#little nightmares ii fix-it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purple-babygirl · 3 months

Text

don't call me daddy II

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader Word count: 3,160 Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails. Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, manipulation, crying, mentions of the s-word, mention of the r-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares. A/N: I'm sorry I breathe pain but I love you:"💜x(also if you have any suggestions for these two just let me know). please enjoy💜 ~ Before Mrs. Morrison arrived, Bucky had made sure to make her a proper breakfast for the first time since she's been at his house. She couldn't need for anything today.

Showered: check Fed: check Properly dressed: check

“And then what?” He asked, closing the peanut butter jar. “Then we pour the warm milk,” she instructed with a soft smile, helping Bucky prepare her meal. “I thought you were supposed to make this with cold milk.” “That’s just what the box says, but we’re not gonna listen,” she whispered as if scared to hurt the cereal box’s feelings. Bucky chuckled despite himself and finally, unintentionally allowed her a glimpse of something other than a frown. “You’re pretty,” she told him with a dreamy smile, already blushing at the fact that she made him smile. “Hey!” Bucky glared again as if he's just been insulted. “Sorry,” she huffed, looking at her breakfast being stirred. “You better be.” Bucky didn’t know why he acted so defensive or why he wanted her to be sorry. It was like there was something inside of him repelling anything nice or sweet that could be thrown his way as if it was a contagious virus. “Eat your breakfast so we can fix that hair of yours. Can’t believe you managed to mess it up again,” Bucky told her, walking away from the kitchen. “Bucky not gonna eat?” She tilted her head in question. “Mind your own business,” Bucky threw rudely, still avoiding her attempts at caring for him. She huffed again as she watched him sit before the TV, pretending to be focused on anything but her presence in his apartment. She had to take matters into her own hands. Ever so slowly, she rounded the kitchen counter and slightly opened the same cabinet Bucky had opened to get her a bowl out of. Thankfully, she found one other bowl. Twisting her hand side-ways, she pulled it out of the small opening she made in the cabinet door in slow motion in order not to alarm Bucky. And while he drowned in his own thoughts, she started preparing him a similar corn flakes bowl so he could have breakfast too. On the other side of the room, Bucky’s mind was attacking him with thoughts. What was he going to do during those three months? He’d already had his face flushed and his heart beat going a million per second when he had to give her a shower yesterday. He couldn’t believe the first time he got to see a naked lady after 70 years, it had to be her. A lady who wasn’t really a lady. He felt dirty. Like he shouldn’t have been doing that. She sounded so young but looked old enough and it messed with his head. How many more times was he supposed to do this again during those three months? “Here, Bucky,” she cut off his thoughts, carefully bringing forth a bowl of corn flakes in warm milk with honey. “Why didn’t you eat?” Bucky rolled his eyes, thinking she probably wanted him to feed her now. It was probably her chance while he was doing everything she wanted so that she wouldn’t rat him out to Mrs. Morrison. “It’s for Bucky,” she explained, setting the bowl before him on the floor. “Who said I wanted to eat that goo?” Bucky glared at her for acting like she knew what he needed. “It’s delicious, I promise. Give it a try.” She held a half full spoon up to him. Bucky was still as a statue, looking at her with a frown. He was too angry to even blink. “I. Don’t. Need. Your. Help.” He seethed through his teeth. “I know. But I wanted to share.” Her shoulders slumped, as she put the spoon back in the bowl. Bucky felt a tiny bit remorseful. No one’s made him food since his mom and internally, he was kind of grateful. But of course, he wouldn’t let it show. “Fine, gimme that,” he snapped, taking the bowl off the floor and shoving a spoon in his mouth. It was actually good, homely and soft enough to chew but not too saggy. Something about the taste of corn and the honeyed milk made Bucky warm inside. As Bucky chewed on his food, she ran back to the kitchen counter, picking up her bowl too and coming back to sit next to Bucky on the floor. “Do you like it?” She asked before slipping her spoon in her mouth. “I don’t hate it.” He shrugged, refusing to give her the pleasure of being right.

If only he knew she never cared about being right. “I’m happy you like it.” She beamed. “I didn’t say that.” “Fine.” She pouted, swirling her spoon around without eating. Bucky felt weird, almost like he felt bad. After all, she’d warned him about the visit and practically saved his butt from Sam and most importantly, his therapist. “Why didn’t you put peanut butter in mine?” Bucky nudged her with a question, refusing to utter a clear apology for his harshness. “Bucky doesn’t like peanut butter on cornflakes,” she whispered, still facing down and moving her spoon around the bowl. “And how did you know that?” Bucky raised his eyebrows because really, how did she know that? Do they give her a file too? “You said “ugh” while adding peanut butter to my cornflakes,” she explained simply. Huh. So she was observant and kind of… smart. “Eat your food,” Bucky said, holding the tip of her spoon to stop her from twirling it. He thought he used a gentler tone but apparently that wasn’t the case because she still looked melancholic. He didn’t have patience for this, for fuck’s sake! Bad word, his mind replied. So she was inside of his head now too?! “Ugh, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, not sure why he did. Because he didn’t care.

He didn’t. “Why do you hate me?” Her small voice asked, sounding sadder than he’d ever heard her sound before. Her question surprised him and he stopped chewing. Bucky frankly had no idea why or if he hated her. He’d told himself he hated her on her first night here, but that was just because she invaded his space and overwhelmed him by doing everything he wasn’t used to. But now that he had to think about it, did he actually hate her? The answer was no and Bucky knew it. “I don’t hate you,” Bucky murmured, setting his bowl down and picking up hers. “You just confuse me very much.” Bucky held her spoon up to her lips. She looked at him and the spoon with so much hope that Bucky felt absolutely shitty for pretending to be nicer to her for the sake of today’s visit.

On the other hand, she couldn’t believe Bucky was offering her the spoon, feeding her. But Bucky didn’t care. He just needed this to go well, and he wasn’t about to let her ruin it because she wanted to have a long face today. “Confuse Bucky? Why? Doll never lies,” she said, her tone sincere and eyes begging Bucky to believe and trust her. Yeah, Bucky felt terrible. He decided that if he kept answering her with the truth that might take some of the guilt he was feeling away. “It’s not about lies,” Bucky replied, nearing the spoon to her lips more so she could eat. She complied and took the spoon into her mouth, wanting to hear more. “It’s that this is all new to me. This kind of stuff never existed in the 40s.” Bucky shrugged, getting another spoon ready. She ate the cereal obediently, chewing quickly so she can ask a question. “But Bucky doesn’t hate me?” She looked at him like her life depended on his answer. “No, Bucky doesn’t hate you,” Bucky chuckled at how cute she looked talking with food in her mouth, but quickly controlled himself. “Bucky just needs time to get used to everything.” She realized out loud, making Bucky swallow apologetically. Has he just been understood for the first time in years by someone other than Steve? It was the truth. Bucky needed time to get used to this and her. The only lies were that his actions weren’t because he really cared and that he didn’t want to get used to this or her. He tried hard to ignore the feeling the mere action of feeding her gave him, too. Taking care of someone like that? It felt good for some odd, unknown reason. Bucky nodded in reply, continuing to feed her, “yeah, I need time.” “I promise I’ll give you time, Bucky. I won’t annoy you no more.” Her eyes were genuine as humanly possible when she cradled his metal hand as it held her bowl and Bucky felt a pang in his chest. How could anyone be so patient and pure, especially these days? He couldn’t believe she still had it in her to consider how he felt in spite of the way he’s treated her. She must know nothing about him or his past. A knock on the door pulled Bucky out of his head and he swallowed nervously, putting the bowl down and standing up to answer the door. She took her bowl and his and quickly moved to sit on the couch, knowing it would look better that way. She was going to do her best to make everything easier on and for Bucky from now on and for the rest of her time with him. ~ After Mrs. Morrison has greeted them both and privately talked to Bucky in the kitchen, she took Doll to the bedless bedroom, wanting to make sure she really was okay. “Listen, doll, don’t feel like you have to do this. If Bucky is unwelcoming, you can come with me right now,” she reassured the girl, never wanting her to go through an unpleasant experience. “I’m okay, Mrs. Morrison, I promise.” She smiled. “Are you sure? Because I know he’s not the nicest I’ve ever met,” Mrs. Morrison joked, making the younger girl laugh. Of course, she had no idea that with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he could hear them. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure. Bucky is not evil, he’s just misunderstood,” she told her, her tone sure. Now that had Bucky intentionally eavesdropping. What did she just say about him? “Is he now?” Mrs. Morrison smiled. “Yes, I swear! Even by himself.” She defended. “And how is that?” the woman was genuinely interested in making sure her girl wasn’t being abused.

“Big me read about him in the library before. He’s not a bad man. He’s a hero, Mrs. Morrison, but he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t think he deserves nice things but he does. He deserves all the nice things!” Bucky was wordless at her speech. Was that how she really thought of him? “But is he good to you, doll?” Mrs. Morrison asked. This was supposed to be the question he worried most about being answered, but Bucky was still frozen, trying to recover from the way her previous words hit him. “Yes, he’s good to me. Even got me a new stuffie!” She told the older woman excitedly without even taking a second to think about her answer, completely omitting the fact that she practically begged him to get her that stuffed animal. “Oh, really? I didn’t see it!” Mrs. Morrison was starting to feel good about this, thinking that maybe she’d misjudged Bucky. “I keep it in my bag when I wake up because I don’t wanna lose it. It’s a white wolf, just like Bucky!” “Just like Bucky?” the woman frowned in confusion. “It’s the name Bucky was given in Wakanda,” she explained. Bucky felt warmth spread throughout his chest for the first time in decades. She knew all that? “You’ve really done your homework huh?” Mrs. Morrison teased, getting up from the floor with Doll. “Big me likes history and research… and cute guys,” she giggled with a shy shrug, making Bucky huff half a chuckle. “Alright then, I will leave you with this cute guy and I’ll come back next month, okay? But until then, I want you to promise to take care of yourself, doll.” “I will, Mrs. Morrison,” she promised politely, giving the woman a tight hug, “thank you for coming.” Bucky closed the door behind the older lady, relieved that the visit went well. He let out a breath he was holding and stood with his back to her, unsure about what he should do. “Bucky,” she called out. “What’s wrong now?” Bucky huffed as he turned around. He felt bad when he saw her soft smile reaching her eyes at the sight of him just looking at her, but he couldn’t let it get to him.

He did what he had to do to save his ass.

She said a lot of nice things about him, but that didn’t mean he was going to yield to this unwelcomed, unwanted situation that Sam’s gotten him in. He didn’t need this. He wasn’t the one to start all this. “Do you wanna draw together?” She played with her fingers nervously. “I don’t know how to do that. You draw, okay?” Bucky said, showing no interest as he started putting his shoes on. “Bucky leaving?” Her voice was chocked with held up tears. “Yes.” He grabbed his keys, trying his best not to look at her dejected face. “But—” “You didn’t seriously think I would magically start wanting to spend time with you, did you?” She involuntarily let out a tiny gasp, hurt at the fact that he just manipulated her for the one reason that is Mrs. Morrison’s visit. “You gonna start crying again?” He made fun of her as he pulled his gloves on, not in the mood for the public stares. “Bucky!” she whispered, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Don’t wait up if you wanna fall asleep.” With that, Bucky slammed the door behind him, locking it and leaving her alone. She just fell on the couch, sobbing as her fists grabbed at her own knees.

How stupid was she? He’s already told her he never wanted her. Why would he suddenly want to spend time with her? Just because he fed her a couple of spoons? Stupid. Maybe she should’ve acted exactly the way he’d expected her to from the beginning. Maybe Bucky was right, there was nothing she could do to help. She wasn’t here to fix anything. Her presence was just a thing Bucky had to put up with, nothing more. ~ As Bucky walked down the street, he wanted to bang his forehead on the nearest wall. Why didn’t he just tell her he was going to get them food like he actually was? Why did he have to be mean and rude? He didn’t want to get her hopes up, he knew that. But that certainly wasn’t the best way to let her know. He could’ve talked to her and she would’ve understood. She was smart and far from a ‘retard’ like he’d so unfairly called her before. But no, he couldn’t get too close. He wouldn’t let her involve him in whatever she was doing. Whatever. Bucky didn’t want to think about her or her feelings. Or about the way her eyebrows knot when she’s about to cry... Or the tremble of her lower lip before the very first tear falls out… Damn it, he fucked up. Bad word, she would say… Bucky chuckled, shaking his head in defeat as he walked towards the nearest grocery store he knew of. ~ I'm sorry. I’m. Sorry. I am sorry Bucky quietly practiced before his closed door as if it was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He needed to make this right. It really wasn’t her fault that they were making him do those things. She was nothing but sweet to him despite everything he’s done to and with her. When he was ready enough to open the door, however, her eyes weren’t on him like he’d expected and wanted them to be. In fact, they weren’t on anything because she was asleep. Bucky sighed as he dumbly waved the pizza box above her sleeping body. She didn’t have lunch because she was spending time with Mrs. Morrison and now she was asleep without dinner either because of him and his stupidity. “Hey,” Bucky called softly, well, softer than he’s ever talked to her. She didn’t answer, pretending to be fast asleep with her face buried in the corner of Bucky’s couch. He couldn’t see anything but her stuffed ducky looking back at him as if in blame. Oh. She was back to hugging her old stuffed animal. Not the white wolf Bucky’s gotten her. Bucky understood now that he’d messed up big time. She clearly didn’t angelically forgive him without an apology this time. He carelessly threw the unopened pizza on the kitchen counter, taking his jacket off and his place on the floor. He had no appetite now. He turned on the TV on silent and turned the lights off before letting out one long sigh.

She felt so bad because Bucky hasn’t eaten anything all day either, but she was too sad with him to do anything about it. Bucky didn’t want her to care for him, so she was going to finally listen to his wishes. When Bucky woke up from his nightmares that night, she had to continue pretending like it didn’t wake her up too. She squeezed her eyes shut and continued to bury her face in the cushion despite herself. No lullabies were sung and no water or tissues were offered. It was just Bucky lying alone on his floor again, sweaty, traumatized and regretful as one could be. She heard him moving around and apparently he was dressing because a minute later he left the apartment. When she peeked through the blinds, Bucky was jogging down the street. It was 4 am and she knew she couldn’t pretend to be asleep forever, but she’ll continue trying for now. ~ When Bucky came back from his 3-hour run, he had finally calmed down and he had a solid apology ready on the tip of his tongue this time. He was going to make this right and he was going to do it now. “Bucky.” He heard her panicked voice call his name and instantly fell into a protective mode he didn't know existed within his system. “I had an accident.” Bucky followed her tearful eyes down and when he looked at her bloodied PJ pants, Bucky was panicked too. He's seen a lot of blood, shed a lot of blood, but the sight of blood on her clothes freaked him out more than anything he has ever seen before. “What happened?!”

part III

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway

@pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting

569 notes · View notes

shamelessfaceless · 2 months

Text

Love, Pain, Death, Repeat II

Navigation | Marvel Masterlist | Part I

Pairings: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader, Billy and Tommy Maximoff x Mom!Reader, Agatha Harkness x F!Reader (platonic)

Summary: Why can't you understand? You were hers, and you will always be hers. You are her solemate. What you don’t understand?

Warnings: Dark!Wanda, mention of cheating, mention of death and suicide, stockholm syndrome (not sure about this one)

Wc: 1550

A/n: Im looking for beta reader (i dont have friends for this😔).

Btw If you saw other post i published before this.. NO YOU DIDNT. It was a dream, and lets keep it that way <333

“Boys, go downstairs, I think mommy doesn't feel very well and I need to take care of her today.” Her voice is soft, opposite of what you heard last time you saw her.

Your kids, you assumed, get off you. One in a green shirt whispered something to the other one, and they started running. They looked like a perfect mix of you and your ex. Something you really wanted to have. Even as you were younger you always wanted to have your prince charming, and few kids. After a few years, the only thing that changed was prince to princess.

“Why I am here? Is this hell?” After learning that Wanda cheated on you, you started feeling like you don’t deserve love or even kids.

“Aren’t you happy? We can have everything we want here! No Natasha, no Vision, no other people we know.” You looked at her disgusted. She made you believe that you’re not enough, and now she wants to build a dream, more like a nightmare to you, about you and her and your kids.

“Why me? Why not him?!” In a second she was next to you, her hand on your mouth.

“Keep that mouth of yours quieter. We Don't want boys to be suspicious, right?” Her green eyes always made you melt, and she kept her hand on your face. You wanted to give in, but decided to push her away. “Behave” She mumbled sitting next to you.

“Tell me, why me? He truly loved you, as much as a bunch of wires could love someone.” She started stroking your hair.

“It was all just about mind stone, it was all that made me interested in him. I needed to understand this, you are my true love.” Tears falling from her eyes. You couldn’t decide if they were real, or she only wanted to make you forgive her.

You faced the wall not wanting to look at her any longer. She left without saying anything more, after a while she came back and left breakfast on the bed. You were scared to eat it. Who knows if she didn't poisoned it. After a few days of staying in the room and only going to the toilet you decided to finally go to the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat and come back to the bedroom. You started learning her routine, most of the day she wasn’t at home. Taking boys to the school, and going straight after that to work. Boys.. Tommy and Billy, you learned their names yesterday, are coming back from school by foot. Wanda always comes back in the evenings. You need to share bed with her. Feeling her hands on your body makes you feel disgusted and at the same time safe.

“Mommy! Do you feel better now?” Little boy asked. You feel teats building in your eyes, as you looked in his own, almost the same color as yours. Every look at boys is tearing down your walls. Every look at them makes you question what you protect yourself from?

“Yeah Tommy, Mommy feels better now. Do you and your brother want something to eat?”

“Mom was giving us money to buy food at and after school.” He confessed. “But.. Today I bought something else.

“ Tom…”

“But wait!” He runned to his room and came back as fast as he could. Holding something behind his back he looked at you with puppy eyes. “Please don’t be mad, I just… I wanted to buy you this! “He gave you a few flowers. Your favorite flowers. “I wanted to make you feel better, and mom told me you love these!”

You wanted to cry really hard. Feeling a knot in your throat you decided to kiss his forehead and take flowers. You put them in the first vase you saw and started searching for things for pancakes.

When Wanda came back home, the first thing that hitted her was the smell, and just a while later boys came running to her, mouths full of food, and telling her you made them pancakes. She smiled nodding at their words. Everything she could think of was you, and how close she must be to finally break you.

Day after day, you were getting closer to the boys. To Wanda you were closer to breaking point. You even started making dinners for boys. For them you even started learning how to cook. After a few weeks of making dinner only for them you also started leaving something to eat for Wanda. You could not talk to her, but you didn't want her to make herself food after a long day of work, and the voice inside your head wanted her to tell you how good your dishes are, how proud of you she is. Today you decided to bake pizza. Boys wanted to help you but it ended up in flour fight.

“And how will I clean it?” You asked looking at Tommy who has all his hair white, and Billy who has his face in white powder.

“Well, mom can help!” Said Billy.

“Well, maybe I can.” Her voice made you shiver. You looked at the clock, she was home earlier. “Boys, go clean yourself before you eat, maybe we can even watch something together.” They hugged her and speeded to the bathroom.

You wanted to call for them to come back. Staying with Wanda in one room was the last thing you wanted to do right now. After the conversation on the first day you woke up here, you never talked. You didn’t want to hear her voice, you were scared. Not only things she could say, but you could actually brake and fall in her arms.

“What do you say sweet girl, want my help?” She gets closer to you. “Or you maybe want to help you also with something else?” You felt her knee between your legs. Oh how long you weren’t touched down there. Knocking on the door saved you from answering. Wanda only huffed and went to see who disturbed her.

“Hey sweetie! I just wanted to ask if you have some sugar. You know, it's late, and all the shops are closed.” After a while an older woman came into the kitchen.

“Love, why don’t you give our neighbor some sugar.” Wanda said. You only nodded. After a few seconds you were handing a stranger a cup of sugar.

“Thanks honey, oh, i forgot to introduce myself, Im Agatha” She said sweetly. You felt hope, maybe she also knows this world is fake. Maybe if you and her get to know each other you could stop Wanda. You saw a spark of hope and didn’t want to give up not now. But Wanda answered faster than you could think about anything you could say.

“And that's Y/N, she's not very talkative, selective mutism.” She lied without stuttering. You hated her almost the same as you loved her. You couldn't fully hate her, everyone but not her.

You looked into the woman's eyes with a pleading look. You didn’t care Wanda could see that, you only hoped Agatha would understand you. Soon the dark haired woman left and Wanda was again next to you. Her face is millimeters of yours.

“What would you say If I give you another child, hm? You weren’t here when boys were small. “Her lips are almost touching yours.”

“Ew! Moms!”

You were glad Billy finally came back. Thanks to your luck for saving you from Wanda twice. Rest of the evening went nice. You fell asleep while watching a movie. Every night you hoped that she would spare you, she would finally give up and let you be free. Oh how wrong you were. Wanda had plans for you, she needed her pretty girl, and no one could change her plans.

Agatha came a few times when Wanda wasn’t at home. You talked to her trying to see if she also knows if this whole world is fake. When you weren’t sure and asked her about this, she said she knew very well about what Wanda did, she wanted to save you. And she tried. You had everything planned, everything seemed so easy. But one day Agatha disappeared. She no longer came to your house, she wasn’t at home. After a few weeks new neighbors moved in.

And the day when you couldn't take it anymore came earlier than you expected. When Agatha wasn't there anymore you lost your last hope. No one could help you. There was no one else knowing about what Maximoff did. When you opened your eyes and saw the mother of your childs getting ready to work you had decided. Slowly going behind her you hugged her.

“Thank you for what you did for us Wands”

#Spotify #marvel #wanda maximoff #lgbtq #lesbian #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff angst #dark wanda maximoff #dark wanda x reader

333 notes · View notes

hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ We Made It, Huh?

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic warning: fluffy af with minor mentions of nightmares, cuteness overload, painfully non-canon but also like i make canon myself yall stfu author's note: okay okay im a sucker for a soft family. could be seen as a part ii to coloring pages and baby fever and that's how im gonna put it on the masterlist, but honestly could be read as a stand alone. also, i need to know if you guys like the name i picked for sweet babygirl and if you don't do NOT say anything i will cry okay gg bye bye

many years later, after prophecies were fulfilled and many quests were completed, a pile of camp half-blood shirts lay dormant in the back of a closet, only to be brought out every now and then to reminisce but nothing more. y/n would have fulfilled her duty of the great prophecy on her twentieth birthday. two years later, she became an editor for a surfing magazine. leo would lay his life down to complete the prophecy of seven, though he came back a few months later to y/n a complete mess, which he made sure to fix. four years after that, he got a masters degree in engineering and opened his own firm. in the midst of those years, leo would propose and y/n would obviously say ‘yes.’ they would move out of camp half-blood into a house of their own - y/n shared a soul-crushing goodbye with chiron, someone she’s known and been raised by since she was seven. and, they’d have a little girl, amara esperanza valdez. which is why leo was currently standing outside a ballet studio, twisting and contorting a piece of metal into a little flower without even looking. the doors swung open and leo brought his attention to it, a smile settling over his lips at the little girl that ran towards him. he kneeled down, holding his arms open before scooping her up into them, her giggles contagious.

“daddy!” the girl giggled into his shoulder, clinging onto him. leo held onto her tightly, pulling back to fully take her in. she was still in her little tutu and leotard, her wild curls that she got from him slicked back into a bun that y/n had done earlier in the day.

“hey, princesa,” leo mused back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before blowing a raspberry against her cheek. the girl squealed, trying to get out of his grasp.

“ah! daddy!” she screamed, wiggling in his arms. leo stopped, partially because he was concerned she was gonna fall and also because they had to start heading home.

“okay, okay. come on, girly, we gotta get home to mama,” he cut in, carefully opening the back doors to the truck and beginning to strap her into her car seat, amara all but a passive character in all of this. she was practically buzzing in her seat, something leo and y/n both worried were early signs of adhd. some nights, y/n would be unable to stop crying at the thought of their daughter going through what they did, her chest heaving with sobs. leo always tried his best to comfort her through these episodes, but he’d be lying if he said that the thought didn’t cause his blood to freeze up.

“how was ballet, amara?” asked leo once they were on the road, glancing in the rear view mirror at her before swiftly returning his eyes to the road, his fingers rapping against the wheel like always.

“good. we learned about pointe shoes today. and- and ms. hart brought in her own tutu from when she was a ballerina! it was sooo pink!” the girl squealed excitedly in the backseat, searching for her dad’s eyes in the mirror.

“really, amorito? super cool,” he replied, nodding his head enthusiastically. they were only a few lights away from home now and leo could feel the stress of work and life ease away from his bones at the thought of seeing y/n, like it always did.

“amanda tried to do an advanced move that ms. hart explained and her mommy thinks she sprained her ankle,” amara added, her eyes going to the views out the window, trying to wiggle in her seat to see better. leo frowned slightly at this news and what she was doing.

“amara,” he warned, lightly, as he flicked his directionals on. the girl stopped her movements and slumped into her seat before realizing they were home, at which point she started buzzing again.

“daddy, daddy, daddy! i gotta get out! come on,” the girl whined, fighting against the seatbelts. leo laughed, moving quickly to free her.

“you’ve got time, babygirl, breathe,” he told her as he lifted her out of the seat and set her down on the ground, reaching back into the car for her pink backpack as she bounced up to the front door. amara reached up with her tiny hand and managed to open the door, swinging it wide open. leo managed to jump forwards and save it from smashing against the wall, knowing y/n would not have been happy.

“mommy!” amara shouted as she ran into the house, almost falling as she tugged her shoes off. y/n leaned around the corner that led to the kitchen, a grin covering her face. her hair was pulled back with a braid and she had an apron wrapped around her waist, clearly making dinner.

“my baby!” y/n shouted back, scooping the girl up into her own arms. leo closed the door, feeling his heart melt at the sight of his little family. he felt like he’d earned it; for every single tragedy he lived through, he got his dues with his girls.

“mommy, mommy, amanda sprained her ankle today,” amara told y/n, excitedly laying her hands on her mothers cheeks. leo noted the small panic flare in her eyes.

“What were you guys doing in ballet today?” she asked, holding the girl against her hip as she stirred something in a pot.

“amanda was doing something she wasn’t supposed to,” clarified leo as he made his way into the kitchen, calming his wife’s nerves. he watched her release a small breath at the information before smiling warmly at her husband. she reached up with her free hand, setting it against his cheek and pulling him down for a kiss.

“eww!” amara squealed, wiggling in her mothers grasp as she tried to escape. y/n rolled her eyes as she set the girl down, wrinkling her nose at her daughter.

“one day, you’re not gonna find it so gross,” y/n stated, in a sing-songy voice, bopping the little girl’s nose.

“a day that is very, very, very far away,” leo insisted, nearly growing pale at the thought of his daughter having her first kiss.

“yeah, keep telling yourself that, hot stuff,” y/n mused, turning as she chopped up some carrots. leo came up behind her, setting his hands flat against her stomach like he used to when they were teenagers, his lips finding home on her neck.

“how was your day, y/n?” he asked, swaying them back and forth to an unknown rhythm.

“perfectly bland,” she smiled at him, the kind of day they grew to appreciate after their teens, “jason called. Wants to stop by sometime this week. he’s traveling about to see everyone right now since the airlines are giving him a pretty long vacation.”

“hmm. i’ll call him back later, pick a day,” leo replied, smiling at the thought of one of his best friends.

“uncle jace is coming over?” amara questioned, peeking her head into the kitchen. y/n hummed in response, giving her daughter a warm smile.

“you need a bath before dinner, little girl,” y/n added, pointing a wooden point at amara, who squealed and ran out of the kitchen. leo pressed his lips to her cheek before patting her hips.

“i can finish dinner. go rangle the beast,” he told her, tilting his head with a bright smile.

“just like old days, huh?” y/n mused with a smile, walking backwards. leo rolled his eyes, pointing the spoon at her now.

“don’t even start with me. you would have ran out of shields and swords years ago had it not been for me. how’d you win then, bubble brain?” he mocked back and y/n laughed, waving him off before managing to grab amara as she tried to run past.

“What’s daddy talking about?” amara managed to get out between her squeals. y/n shared a small look with leo before pressing her lips to amara’s head.

“dumb grown up stuff, babygirl. i’ll tell you when you’re older,” y/n hummed, swinging the girl around in her arms as she made her way up the stairs towards the bathroom. it was hard, keeping so much of their lives secret from amara but she was just too young to understand. she wouldn’t understand why family trees were hard. she wouldn’t understand why her parent’s were littered with scars, both visible and invisible. she wouldn’t understand why all of photos of her parents as teens had weird horses in the background and only orange shirts as far as the eye could see.

leo finished the soup, quite proud of himself for doing so without a recipe. he was on the phone with jason, leaning back against the counter as he portioned out the correct stuff onto amara’s sectioned plate. her bowl of soup was in the fridge, cooling down. as much as leo insisted amara had some kinda heat resistance, y/n was always too scared to test anything yet.

“i’m telling you, she’s growing like a weed. you’re gonna see her and not recognize her,” leo spoke into the phone, a wide smile on his face as jason laughed.

“i doubt that. those curls are hard to miss,” jason replied and leo could just hear the smirk on his face.

“hey! she got those from her daddy i’ll have you know!”

“yeah, she’s definitely your kid, no mistaking that,” jason laughed on his end, before there was a minor pause, leo having a feeling he knew where this was going.

“did you…did you hear about travis?” jason whispered into the phone, gently. this type of conversation is becoming more common these days. leo sighed, leaning back and looking to make sure y/n was still occupied with amara.

“yeah. connor called me. i haven’t told y/n yet,” he muttered back, running a hand through his hair. connor called him earlier in the day, telling him travis had been nearly killed by a couple of fury’s that caught him off guard at his job.

“i just- i thought we were done with this shit, you know what i mean?” leo continued with a huff.

“i’m just worried that one day, i’m gonna get that call from you and y/n, or piper, or reyna, or percy and annabeth,” jason replied, his voice heavy, and leo could feel his tension through the phone.

“i know, trust me, i know. the amount of sleep y/n and i have lost over guardianship of amara is crazy. she’s in danger with every person that we love,” leo breathed out and jason hummed on the other end.

“i’d take her in a heartbeat,” jason joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“percy’d kill you for her,” leo laughed.

“he’s got his hands full with their kids. i’ve got the high ground here!” jason argued his case and leo just laughed harder. amara then came running into the kitchen, her curls free from the bun and bouncing and lightly dripping water.

“daddy, daddy, daddy, is it uncle jase?” amara excitedly asked, tugging on his pant leg and looking up at him with excitement.

“uncle jase? no, no, this is just the weather man i know,” leo mused into the phone a flabbergasted noise coming from jason as leo put the phone on speaker.

“don’t listen to him, mara!” jason called, causing amara to squeal excitedly and made grabby hands for the phone.

“be careful, baby, i’m serious,” leo told her before handing his phone off, excitedly blubbering to jason as she walked towards the living room. y/n walked into the kitchen with a different shirt on and some suds on her face still. leo laughed lightly as he raised his hand, softly rubbing the bubbles away.

“is she on the phone with jason?” y/n questioned, peeking into the living room. leo hummed in response, pouring her a bowl of soup. y/n took it from him with a kiss before setting it on the dining table, something she was adamant about. leo followed, also setting up amara’s seat as y/n grabbed the little girl and phone.

“say goodbye to uncle jase, baby, you gotta have dinner so you grow big and strong like him,” y/n mused into the phone, earning a chuckle from jason, before amara cried her goodbyes. jason called back similarly before y/n took him off speaker and held the phone up to her ear.

“did leo pick a day for you to come over?” she asked as she moved around the kitchen, pouring drinks and grabbing the little girl a napkin.

“yeah. thursday. he said something about amara having the day off,” jason replied.

“perfect! We love having you over, jason, you know that,” stated y/n, smiling widely.

“i love being over. Well, i’ll leave you guys to your night,” he added and y/n nodded even though he couldn’t see it.

“yeah, of course. see you soon. love you, sparky.”

“love you too, y/n.”

y/n hung up, passing the phone off to leo before pressing a kiss to his cheek as she took her seat next to him. they ate their dinner, amara excitedly talking about her day. she told leo about how mommy made waves with the water of her bath, causing leo to shoot her a pointed look. y/n was quick to explain it away as ‘mommy magic,’ wiggling her hands at the little girl, who couldn’t stop the giggles from coming out of her mouth. y/n cleaned up dinner as leo took amara to the living room, allowing some kiddy show to play while she curled up on the couch next to him. once she was asleep and drooling all over leo, they gently picked her up and took her into her room. y/n tucked her in, pressing a long kiss to her forehead before getting up, allowing leo to do the same before they left, leaving the door open just a crack. the couple then made their way downstairs, laying back down on the couch, y/n’s legs draped over leo’s lap, her head resting against his arm, which was slung on the back of the couch.

“connor called today,” leo whispered out, easily gaining y/n’s attention, her brows furrowing.

“during my lunch. travis, he- he got hurt pretty bad today,” leo continued, trying to ease into the conversation, rubbing his hand over y/n’s, “While he was at work, a couple of fury’s managed to get the jump on him.”

“oh, gods…is he okay?” y/n breathed out and leo could feel her hands start to shake.

“he’s okay. just a little banged up,” leo instantly soothed, giving her hand a squeeze and giving her a comforting look. y/n instantly moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso as leo replied in a similar fashion.

“...will it ever end?” y/n asked in a small voice, which shook, “haven’t we given enough? i’ve spent my whole entire life on this crap and it still won’t leave us alone.”

“it’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. nothing’s happened yet and if something does happen, we’re prepared,” leo muttered against her shoulder, pressing a kiss there once he was done.

“i know, i know…i just- i worry about her,” replied y/n, both of them knowing exactly who they were talking about.

“she’s a lot like you. she’ll be okay,” leo stated, smiling softly at his wife who rolled her eyes at him.

“please, she’s your mini-me. don’t patronize me,” she joked, shoving him off her as she got up off the couch, subtly wiping away her tears, hoping leo wouldn’t notice. he did, but knew better than to point it out.

“fine. but she looks just like you!” leo argued and y/n gave him a look, causing him to laugh.

“liar! you’re just trying to make me feel better that i carried her inside of me for nine months just for you to steal all of her genetic code,” y/n huffed, locking the front door while leo locked the back door, the pair turning off most of the lights in the house, leaving little ones on for amara if she woke up to get water or use the bathroom.

“no, no, no. she’s got your nose and your hair color! and when she wrinkles her nose, it’s got you written all over it,” leo raved and y/n laughed, shaking her head at him as they moved up the stairs towards their room.

“she may have my hair color but she’s got your curls. and your ears and she’s got your stupidly cute thinking face,” y/n insisted, flipping the light on in their room and heading towards their shared bathroom.

“so, what i’m hearing is that our daughter is a perfect mix of us?” leo questioned with a wide smirk as he followed after her, tugging off his shirt.

“yup. sounds about right to me,” y/n mused, turning around and throwing her arms around his neck as she looked him up and down, a wide smile on her face, “hmm. what were we even arguing about again?”

“can’t seem to remember,” leo added with a laugh, both of them quickly undressing before hopping into the shower together.

it wasn’t anything crazy intimate; at least, not in the sense you're thinking. they talked about their days, adding details they couldn’t exactly say in front of their five year old. y/n liked to wash leo’s hair, always huffing about how he didn’t take care of his curls. though he'd never admit it, he did notice his hair was better once he moved in with y/n and started this ritual. leo did make a comment about trying to make another kid that looks more like y/n while running his hand up her thigh but she gave him a kiss before shoving him off with a light laugh. she reminded him of their agreement to wait until amara was in school, to which leo pouted and cuddled up on y/n with an exaggerated sigh. the two moved under the covers of their bed, cuddling up to each other before losing their fight against trying to stay awake.

“mommy?” y/n heard, instantly forcing her eyes to open and focus as she looked at the edge of her bed, being met with her daughter’s blonde curls and bloodshot eyes. the girl hiccupped a cry and y/n was instantly awake, reaching over and pulling amara into bed with her, setting the girl in her lap. she cupped amara’s tear-stained face, her heartstrings pulling as she continued to cry.

“What’s wrong, baby?” y/n whispered, leo starting to stir awake next to her. he sat up on his elbows, looking over and taking in the scene before waking up more at the sight of his daughter crying. amara just continued to blubber, unable to get words out through her tears.

“baby, princesa, you’ve got to breathe,” leo muttered, reaching over and running a hand over her back, calming her down like he would y/n. amara started to take big breaths, trying to calm herself down.

“good girl. tell mommy what happened, amara,” y/n begged, pushing back the girl’s curls so she could see her face better.

“t-there’s monsters in my room,” amara hiccupped out, y/n’s face falling and her blood running cold. leo just stared, feeling his heart and mind working overtime.

“what?” she gasped out, her normally soft voice she’d use with amara lost.

“i saw- i saw monsters in my room, mommy, they- they- they were out to get me!” amara continued, her breathing turning heavy again. y/n hugged amara to her body, shushing her and trying to calm her breathing again. she looked over at leo, who was already getting up and reaching into his bedside table, pulling out a knife that he quickly hid from amara’s view.

“leo,” y/n begged, shooting a hand forwards to grasp his. he pressed a kiss to her head.

“i’ll be back. stay here, y/n, stay with amara,” he whispered against her head. y/n squeezed her eyes shut and let go, even though everything in her body was telling her not to. she let him leave, waiting with bated breath while she tried to occupy amara and get her to stop crying.

“baby, what did they look like, these monsters?” y/n whispered, rocking the two of them back and forth, the girl snuggly held against her chest.

“like the ones from uncle nico’s books,” she replied and y/n’s heart clenched, partially because now they were running real risks and leo was taking his damn sweet time and because she was going to kill nico for showing her daughter those drawings. finally, the door swung open and leo came back, shaking his head at y/n, who let out a breath and managed to just barely keep her tears at bay.

“i just scared them all off, amorito. no more monsters,” leo told her, pressing a kiss to her head with a shaky breath. amara and y/n both seemed to sag in relief, for two different reasons. leo slid back into bed next to them, wrapping his arms around his little family in hopes of keeping them this safe forever.

“you wanna stay here with daddy and i?” y/n offered, though her tight hold on her daughter indicated that she wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

“yes, please,” amara whimpered, snuggling into the space between the two.

“always, babygirl, always,” leo replied, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking her in. they both stayed up, waiting for amara to fall asleep. she was a lot like percy, a deep sleeper that was constantly drooling all over their pillows. it never failed to bring a smile to y/n’s face, seeing her little brother in her daughter.

“i didn’t see anything out of place. i think it was just a nightmare. though, i have no idea where she got this idea of monsters from,” leo whispered to y/n, running his fingers through amara’s hair.

“apparently, nico showed her some pictures last time he babysat,” y/n muttered back, sniffling as she tried to stop herself from crying.

“i’m gonna kill him,” leo groaned, half tempted to hunt the goth down now.

“i think it was an accident. you know he wouldn’t do that on purpose,” y/n reasoned and leo huffed, glancing over at his wife, realizing the state she was in.

“oh, y/n.”

“i- i honestly thought you’d find something. i don’t want to live like this, leo, constantly scared something is just gonna swoop down and take her away from us,” reasoned y/n, the tears slowly trailing down her face she kept her eyes on her precious daughter.

“I know, honey, me neither. but, we’ll be okay,” hummed leo, reaching over their child and setting a hand against her damp cheek, forcing her eyes to him.

“how can you know that?”

“because i’ve got you. and you have me. nothing will ever be too bad that we can’t face it,” leo insisted, giving her a small tilted smile.

“together?” y/n offered, returning his smile with one of her own

“together,” leo confirmed, nodding his head in a way that couldn’t be argued with.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

248 notes · View notes

gambleofstars · 4 months

Text

Electrician Reader as Vox's Assistant (Pt. I)

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

↳ ❝ [a/n: I actually left an ask of this concept in another writer's blog in here anonymously but I felt enough energy to write it now, so if you see some similar posts, that's why] ¡! ❞

Pt. II

⋆♡* When you arrived in hell, the first thing going through your mind was: man that hurt like a bitch. Dying from electric shock was not the way you wanted to go but eh, fuck it. Not like your life was going anywhere far.

⋆♡* Great news though: you're immune to electricity related risks!

⋆♡* Soon enough, you got the hang of how things were run down here and it wasn't that different from the overworld (isn't that just food for thought) and adapted. You weren't above scheming and using people on earth, so why would you hold back on it in hell? There was a reason you were here, after all.

⋆♡* You did some random jobs: cleaner, courier, the whole nine yards to scrape some money together and move out of the shitty hostel - of which you tricked the owner of to let you stay.

⋆♡* After that, it wasn't long until you got into your groove again with the exact thing that got you killed - Electrical work.

⋆♡* At first, it was just fixing little things, like TVs and phones for much cheaper than their manufacturer would. You knew it would bite you in the ass sooner or later because the big companies in hell (much like on earth) don't play nice when it comes to their money.

⋆♡* And the day arrived one hellish morning when you were promptly dragged to the HQ of Voxtech with not even a coffee in your system.

⋆♡* Didn't take too long until you got a job here. Not any job, mind you; you were now the personal assistant of the most annoying CEO ever - Vox.

⋆♡* You're pretty sure the reason was the fact that when he got into his usual hissy fits, throwing around monitors and overcharging every corner of the room, you had no problems withstanding the voltage.

⋆♡* This manchild will look you straight in the eyes and froth at the mouth of how he hates the radio at least 5 times a day- oh- oh wait....... Make that six now.

⋆♡* (Of course you signed an NDA, don't be ridiculous)

⋆♡* Every day fell into a routine. You were out of the house by 7:00, signing in at the front desk by 7:32, by the coffee machine by 7:45 and standing with a double shot espresso in front of Vox's office by 8:00 sharp.

⋆♡* He didn't shy away to let you know he appreciated the punctuality and if you were late in the future it would be showing accordingly on your next paycheck.

⋆♡* The other Vees find you amusing, if anything. Maybe because you don't get intimidated by your boss' tantrums and stand unfazed, with a, now fizzy, coffee after them

⋆♡* Valentino will pick you up like a ragdoll with all his four limbs and use you as a meat shield when Vox wants to bite his head off because of another PR nightmare he will have to deal with.

⋆♡* (Of course he asked you to perform in one of his... movies, but the only answer he got from you was a dead stare and a loud sip of your coffee) (He did want to tear you apart after that, but you were called to Vox's office)

⋆♡* Velvette, on the other hand, uses you as her personal mannequin whenever you're on your lunch break. Standing wearing the latest fashion items while eating your sesame bagel is a normal occurrence at this point. Don't spill anything though, or she will ask Vox to add after hour work for you (she has done it before).

⋆♡* She does enjoy having someone to listen to her yapping when Vox doesn't want to (or when he's having a monologue of his own) even unwillingly.

⋆♡* Finally, in the after hours, when the otherwise empty office is only illuminated by only your computer, you'll go out on the balcony, in the windy night of the pride ring city, light a cigarette and close your eyes for a bit.

⋆♡* Just for a second, this feels like home.

⋆♡* Better than home.

hihi, first time writing here and hopefully not messing up haha 💋

signing off, gamble

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin vox #hazbin vaggie #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #the vees #hazbin x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

345 notes · View notes

aphrodisiaxcunt · 2 months

Text

Fading echoes II

Keegan x GN!reader

Keegan is still acting distant. When you bring up your worries about your relationship with him, things admittedly go south

Content: Angst, depressive, trauma ig, gn!reader, Keegan sucks!, slow fic, arguing, mild violence, cursing, name calling

Part 1, This is PART 2! Part 3, Finale

If links don't work use masterlist

!Keegans lines are red, reader lines are green

Word count: 1064, Reading time: 5~ minutes

You wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare and notice that Keegan isn't in bed. Confused and agitated, you nearly fly out of bed. Storming into the kitchen, when your legs stop into a halt. He's right there, casually sipping his coffee.

"Where are you going?" you demand an answer. "I ain't goin' anywhere, just having a coffee. Is that allowed?" Feeling slightly embarrassed and even more agitated by his nonchalant response. It's adding to how badly your nerves are acting up, you sit down. The kitchen chair squeaking under your weight quietly. You stay silent for a while, but it's killing you to keep your mouth shut for so long. You finally let out the thought running in your head, begging for his attention, "I just thought you left again because you weren't in bed..."

Looking down, you can't help but feel lonely in this whole situation, the looming feeling that Keegan is pushing you away is horrid. Your heart wrenches and your head drops down to look at your legs. The world going quiet. Vision going blurry and contorting into a pinpoint, you start breathing heavily.

"You hear me?" Keegan's voice snaps you out of the panic. 'Hm..?' you manage to pull out a questioning, quiet hum deep from your throat.

"I asked what you wanted from the store." Oh. He didn't even answer your confession. Your gut drops with your face, staring at your legs. "Nothing, thanks baby.." you mutter, fixing your gaze to the fluffy pajama pants you have on, softly pulling and nipping on the fabric of your pants for comfort. He finishes up his drink, getting up from his chair and heading over to the hallway. While putting his shoes on he clicks his tongue, calling Riley over. Rileys paws softly thudding on the floor as he jumps off the couch and runs to Keegan to have his leash be put on.

After Keegan left to the grocery store with Riley, you were again left alone with the familiarly unbearable silence of your apartment. You've been pacing around for fifteen minutes now. Your feet scrambling for some sort of direction as you walk around the coffee table in the living room for probably fiftieth time by now.

You don't understand. Why is Keegan so unbelievably distant? Should you bring it up? Stopping your mantra of walking around in a circle, you let out a sigh and droop to sit down onto your couch. Sinking into the leather you make up your mind, surely Keegan would want you to bring up issues in the relationship. Leaning your head back over the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling you start to think of what you want to bring up. And especially how you are going to bring it up.

Hearing Keegans keys rattle in the lock makes you lift your head up, eyes searching for the hallway. Riley is the first one you notice, as he runs into the living room and jumping next to you on the couch still panting from his time outside. You hear Keegan rustling the shopping bags in the kitchen and find yourself walking over to him. Gently placing your hand over his back to signal you're behind him, you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Keegan, I'd like to talk to you about something.." Your voice is soft and quiet as you gently rub his back. He puts the rest of the groceries into the fridge and turns to you, a tired look on his face. "Alright, let's talk." His voice is opposite of yours. It's harsh and cold. It makes you feel a little worried about talking to him. What if he's in a bad mood again? It can't be a good time to talk. "I just-" You start your sentence, getting a defensive stance from Keegan as a response "I'm worried about you, about us. I understand you've just gotten home from a mission but you can't ignore me for days, it's unfair.." When the words leave your lips Keegans whole demeanor changes, he crosses his arms and scoffs. Leaning back into the counter he starts talking. "Oh, you think it's unfair? God forbid, that I get a little time, after being away from home for months." He laughs almost in an offended way "God fucking forbid, I don't want your clingy fucking ass on me the second i get back!"

His yelling shocks you to your core, taking a step back from him and staring up at him with an open mouth, you can't help but scoff back at him, you've been understanding of his situation for the whole time you two have been dating. The entire time since day one you've been his rock, given him everything he needs to decompress and feel welcome at home again. "Well I'm so sorry your highness, but I don't know if you've noticed but we're in a relationship! We're supposed to communicate our issues!" You raising your voice at him clearly does not sit well with him, his relaxed position changes and he takes a step towards you. Seriously? Is he really trying to intimidate you right now? Now of all times, he decides to do so. "You have been nothing but a pain in my ass since I came home. You're a selfish, useless and leeching bitch!" That's it, the mocking is stepping over your line and you slap him in the face with an audible smacking sound. Keegans movements are fast. Grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him, forcing a wince out from your lips when you try to pull your arm back. His grip tightening on you.

"You don't fucking slap me. Do you understand? You don't pull shit like that on me, do you understand!?" You look up at him looming over you, your face turns to a mix of anger and disgust from his threatening aura.

"You're just like your mother." You snarl out, his eyes narrowing before you feel an open palm hitting your cheek. It stings, the hypocritical slap to your face makes you go quiet. Feeling his hand loosen on your wrist, taking it as a chance and snatching your arm back to yourself. Tears forming in your eyes you glare up at him and gently pull your own hand up to hold your cheek. "What did I just say..?"

☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆

I managed to get this one finally out! Amazing right, I know. ♡ Sadly I'm starting a new job soon and my posting might slow down, but I will be staying active here! Love you all and thank you for the interest in my work

Go follow my ig @aphrodisiax_tumblr for fic release updates!!

@milkteaarttime I promised to tag you didn't I, love?

#angst #call of duty #cod #keegan cod #gn reader #keegan p russ #cod keegan #call of duty angst #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #keegan x reader #keegan x you #keegan russ x reader

147 notes · View notes

itsplumwriter · 5 months

Text

Worst Nightmare

POV: Bucky has a nightmare he has hurt his entire family, but has no memory of doing so.

A/N: So this was intense... I love that it's a dream but we have y/n's perspective as if it's real. I think this would be Bucky's worst nightmare if he had a family. I can't wait to write a part ii for this! Would you guys like to see that? (:

Warnings: wounds, blood, nightmare, implied children attack

—-

Bucky pulls into the driveway. He can't quite remember the drive home or what he was doing right before he got there, but his mind is fixated on changing out of his dirt-ridden uniform as quickly as possible and eating the spaghetti you promised you’d make him when he came home.

His shoulders relax as he approaches the door, fumbling for his keys.

“I’m home,” he calls out, tossing his keys in the entryway table bowl and dropping his work bag.

The lack of an immediate answer was a little odd. The announcement that he was home usually sent the boys rushing towards him at least.

“Doll?” he calls upstairs. No response.

It was strange, the house being so silent.

Then he hears a strained whimpering from the kitchen. He bolts towards it.

“Honey?!”

When he rounds the corner, his eyes widen.

You were on the floor, clutching your stomach. Blood everywhere.

Bucky rushes to you. “Y/n!! What happened??”

“Bucky... The kids...” you utter, as he eyes the large gash pooling blood on your abdomen.

“Your stomach...” he utters in horror, unable to focus on anything else.

He grabs the kitchen towel, trying to put pressure on your wound.

“James...” you say, grabbing his hands. “Check the boys... Upstairs...”

He stares at you, his eyes now red. He doesn't want to leave you, but he knows you won’t forgive him if he doesn’t put the kids first.

He secures the towel in place. “Keep the pressure on it.”

He runs up the stairs, two at a time.

He bursts into their room. “Boys!?”

Bucky falls to his knees when he sees what happened to them.

---

You’d been sitting on the kitchen floor, breath hitching, barely hanging on, drifting in and out... but you needed to hear what happened to your kids.

You hear Bucky storm down the stairs. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to speak, but you’ll be able to tell from his face the status of your children.

So when he enters the kitchen and he can’t even look you in the eye, you immediately start crying.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears burning through. It feels as though your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, worse than any pain from your injuries.

“It’s gonna be okay...” Bucky says. “You hear me?”

Bucky kneels beside you, gripping your shoulders, trying to ground you. You were inconsolable. You couldn’t even catch a breath.

He inspects your wound, eyes widening when he sees the towel hasn’t done anything, completely soaking in blood.

He looks down, trying to think. “I can fix this.”

You shake your head.

Bucky tries to carry you. “Please let me fix this.”

You push him away. You refuse to let him take you to a hospital. You already know it's no use.

Bucky sits beside you, defeated. He rolls his head back, the tears stinging his eyes. “This can’t be happening. Why did this have to happen?”

He buries his head in your neck, crying softly. "I can't lose you too."

You’re really weak, but you manage to rest your head on his shoulder. As soon as you do, his whole body shakes with sorrow.

The two of you sit on the kitchen floor, accepting the reality of it.

Suddenly, he pulls back his tears and takes a deep breath. He takes your hand and squeezes it tight. “Honey, who did this...”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head.

Bucky takes both your hands and puts them in his. “Honey, please. You need to tell me.”

You press your lips together, burning tears streaming down your face.

Bucky narrows his gaze, confused as to why you won’t tell him. “Honey, just tell me.”

You look him in his watery eyes. You hesitate for as long as you can. You weren’t gonna tell him. You told yourself you weren’t gonna tell him. His pleading blue eyes squeeze it out of you.

“You did.”

--- --- ---

Part ii on my Patreon!: https://www.patreon.com/itsplumwriter

Follow me on insta!: https://www.instagram.com/itsplumwriter

i really hope you guys liked it!! I love u and God bless you, dolls!

120 notes · View notes

elorday · 1 year

Text

— ✦ valerie's march fic recs

thank you so much for all of these writers for making me smiling with a lots of butterflies in my stomach, making my mouth hanging agape, or crying so hard and sweating hot. i really can't thank you enough<3

⟡. THE LAST OF US —

⭒ — JOEL MILLER

matchmaker : @quin-ns

domesticity looks good on you : @girlscull

once again in your arms : @foli-vora

a helping hand : @bubbles-for-all-of-us

she's a gun : @cowgurrrl

your smile! : @starpdfs

⟡. MARAUDERS ERA —

⭒ — REGULUS BLACK

annonated book and sleek hardcovers : @messers-moony

his last letter : @timmys-angel

hidden messages in foreign language : @specialbrewbutterbeer

⭒ — REMUS LUPIN

ivy : @enviedear

too much to drink : @nectarcfthegcds

the girl with a book : @solemnarration

heavy handed : @luveline

⟡. GRISHAVERSE —

⭒ — KAZ BREKKER

call me what you like : @sophierequests

buoy : @yelenasbraid

flowers : @violetrainbow412-blog

⭒ — JESPER FAHEY

not what it looks like : @magpiencrow

i hate you : @heathsbitch

⭒ — NIKOLAI LANTSOV

nightmares and enemies : @corpsebasil

in passing : @ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes

a special occasion : @holden-caulfield

the art of pretension : @fleurspun

⟡. MARVEL —

⭒ — MATT MURDOCK

trial tardiness : @alrighty-matty

the matter of opinion : @courtforshort15

it's really... yellow : @pastafossa

finger crossed : @petertingle-yipyip

in another life : @saintmurd0ck

five years : @darling-i-read-it

⭒ — STEPHEN STRANGE

last name : @parkersbliss

slow down : @dre--scape

⭒ — PETER PARKER

the inevitable : @starktonyx

burnt face and second base : @waitimcomingtoo

the forgotten child : @friendlyneighborhoods-spiderman

⟡. STRANGER THINGS —

⭒ — STEVE HARRINGTON

next best thing happen to an angel : @slashersteve

nine facts, one lie : @stevebabey

don't you forget about me : @starberryes

⟡. HOUSE OF THE DRAGON —

⭒ — AEGON II TARGARYEN

the summer islands : @fairysluna

someone, anyone : @asongofmarvelanddc

good grief : @elliewlums

firstborn : @archiveofthe-dragon

⟡. BRIDGERTON —

⭒ — BENEDICT BRIDGERTON

to be loved and to be in love : @desertno3

it is just tea : @leahsficemporium

⭒ — ANTHONY BRIDGERTON

it's a bad idea, me and you : @genyakosstyk

five senses of love : @libraryofloveletters

⟡. STAR WARS —

⭒ — POE DAMERON

the f-word : @the-little-ewok

one kiss : @starryeyedstories

⭒ — DIN DJARIN

fix you : @roguetonorth

just call my name : @prettypiscesgal

softer : @thatredheadwriter

#✭: valerie's monthly recommendations #joel miller x reader #regulus black x reader #remus lupin x reader #kaz brekker x reader #jesper fahey x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #matt murdock x reader #stephen strange x reader #peter parker x reader #steve harrington x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #poe dameron x reader #din djarin x reader #valerie's recs —

750 notes · View notes

fineghkst · 11 months

Text

Too late (part II)

Once Rhysand invites Eris to the winter solstice, you got all the attention from the heir of the Autumn Court, making a jealous Azriel.

i almost gave up posting this bc idk if it’s good, but here it is 😖

warnings: a little angst and kinda suggestive at the end

if you find any mistakes please let me know!

part I

[masterlist]

No one knew where Azriel was.

He simply disappeared after the disaster during the winter solstice. All his clothes and weapons were left in his room, except the Truth Teller. Eveything was untouchable, exactly where he left it before leaving Velaris.

You could feel Rhysand and Feyre were trying to hide something from you. They told you not to worry, that Azriel would come back soon, but you didn’t believe them. You could sense they weren’t sure if Az would actually come back.

You couldn’t understand why the inner circle was acting so weird, even Cassian seemed to be more careful with his jokes when you were around. Like you could break if something wrong was said.

You two got closer over the years, especially after you started training with him during the mornings. You got used to being woken up by him, calling you lazy for still being in bed. Azriel's calm face became the first thing you saw as soon as you opened your eyes, with the shadows always prowling around him.

But now, as the Spymaster, no one would find him unless he wanted to.

During that week, which seemed to be the longest time of your life, Eris sent a lot of letters and gifts. At that point you received a hole collection of jewelry made from fire stone and an invitation to dinner with him at the Autumn Court. Still, you couldn’t feel excited to see Eris. So you ignored all the letters and left all the gifts abandoned under your bed.

The only thought in your mind my was Azriel.

Sometimes you felt like your heart was being crushed, and it hurt like someone’s pain was being added to yours.

You’re feeling miserable and didn’t understand why Azriel’s suddenly disappearance was affecting you that much. You two were only friends, that was all. Even if you felt a deeper feeling for him, you knew he would never like you that way.

When Eris started to give you attention, you saw a chance to get over Azriel. But even with all your efforts to love the male, your feeling for Az didn’t go away.

At some point, you started to have nightmares. You keep dreaming about Azriel being hurt by someone, Azriel being killed or simply never being found again, leaving you alone in this world forever.

Today you woke up scared, letting a cry of despair escape from your mouth. You still could see the image of your dream in your head, of Azriel’s lifeless body laying in a dark forest.

Panic still spread throughout your mind. The image refused to leave. You wanted to scream, you wish to go back in time and fix everything, to tell Azriel how you felt.

“(Y/n)?” The familiar voice said, making your heart beat faster.

Azriel was standing in front of your door with a worried look on his face. He walked in your direction with caution, like he was scared that you would disappear if any sudden movement was made.

“Az?” You asked, afraid that was just another dreams and you would woke up at any second just to find out he was still missing.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

“I heard you screaming” He asked with a low hoarse voice.

“I’m fine, it was just… a nightmare.”

“I understand.” Azriel looked at you, trying to find the right words to say next “I’m sorry to enter in your room like this, I just… I just thought you could be in danger.”

“It’s okay.” You wanted to get closer to him, to talk everything that was running your mind. “I was worried about you, why did you left like that? What happened at the winter solstice?”

The questions left your mouth before you could stop them.

Azriel’s shadows were dancing around him, slowly approaching your body, as if they were happy to finally see you again.

“I’m sorry for that as well” Azriel let a sigh left his mouth “I left because I’m a selfish bastard. I wish I could say I have a honorable reason for it, but I don’t. The truth is I left because I couldn’t see you near Eris anymore”

You tried to digest his words, finally starting to understand.

“Honestly, at that point I wasn’t giving a shit for Rhysand’s alliance with Eris. And I should, because he’s my friend, my brother and my High Lord.” He finally looked inside your eyes “But I can’t watch my mate with another male, especially him.”

The shock spread throughout your body.

Mate.

That’s what he said. You’re his mate.

“Azriel.” You said, breaking the distance and taking his hands with your own.

He felt a shiver go through his spine. The way you hold his scarred hands without hesitation, your eyes carried with affection. Even if they’ve caused only pain and suffering in the last few centuries for the others.

For the first time, he didn’t felt like a monster, like a villain of someone’s story. He could be the villain to a lot of people, but not to you. Azriel would never be able to hurt you.

“Let me finish first.” Azriel interrupted before you could say anything “I’m back because of you, to fight for you. I don’t want to believe it’s too late for us.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You said “I’m so stupid, if I wasn’t so scared of telling you how I felt, none of that would’ve happened”

“How you felt?” He looked confused. “You have feelings for me?”

“How can the Spymaster be so oblivious of what is infront of your nose?” You said, laughing “Yes, I do have feelings for you, but I never thought you felt the same way. I was so blind that I didn’t even felt the bond.”

But it was there, filling your chest. Uniting your soul to Azriel’s. That’s why you felt so miserable in the last days, you could feel his despair echoing with yours through the bond, almost creating a sad melody.

“(Y/n)… please don’t tell me that I got into the biggest existencial crises of my life just because I was too scared to tell you about the bond. When I could have you long time ago.”

“Don’t feel bad, because I’m afraid we both did the same thing.” You said and he laugh.

Hesitant, he lift one of his hands and slightly caressed your face. His shadows touched your soft skin, moving around your arms, making you feel a tickle.

“You’re my mate, Azriel. And I’m only yours.” You finally said the words and he looked at you with a indecipherable expression. “I’ve always been yours. And you’re right, it’s not too late for us”

“(Y/n)” A groan left his mouth “Since the first time I put my eyes on you, you’ve conquered me in every possible way. I’m yours and you’re mine, and I won’t let anyone get in the middle.”

Azriel moved his hands to your neck and you instantly whimpered in anticipation. His eyes darkened when he heard it, and he finally broke the distance between you two, kissing you deeply. He quickly pushed you to his lap, trying to get you the closer he could, and put his hands into your waist.

“Time to claim what’s mine, love.” Azriel said with a lust in his eyes.

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel

279 notes · View notes

purplelupins · 16 days

Text

Lamb

|Midnight Mass|

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Father Paul Hill/John Pruitt x fem!reader

Word count: 12k

Summery: An entire life of being a good girl was a difficult cross to carry...especially in a tiny town with 127 residents on a good day. You kept the town fed and spirits as high as you could, but when a new face steps off the afternoon Breeze, things around you start to change; you don't even know you're in the eye of the storm.

Warnings: nsfw, reader is religious, religious symbolism, ideology, explanations and general conversations of religion, age gap (like this man is 80 technically and he watched reader grow up, and can remember reader as a little girl so if that’s creepy to you then go no further), stalking, manipulation,angst, murder (hello have you seen the show?), mentions of s*ic*de, drinking of blood, hunting of a person, grief, description of animal death, reader is described as blushing, character death, non consensual help showering, guilt and god maybe more but I think that’s it…this is not really a fix it fic

Notes:

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It took your last bit of energy to tell Father John to leave you alone…that it was his fault. Your vision was fading fast; you had lost enough blood that you were dizzy, but your fear and exhaustion had your brain forcing your body to shut down out of self preservation. As darkness gripped you, you heard the Father shift away from the small door and then your head thumped with his heavy footsteps as he walked away.

Maybe he finally listened to you.

Maybe he would actually leave you there to slip into a comatose state and let you die just to hide his sins.

Your eyes dropped shut as you listened to muffled voices. Angry voices. You smiled a dazed smile, and the last thing you could understand was something about limits. You didn’t care what he said…not then. All you felt was dizzy darkness that was making you float.

It was so calm you didn’t want to give in to that nagging feeling of uneasiness. But that nasty emotion was battered away with a serene humming all around you.

You felt like you were a baby again…you wondered if your body was making you remember being cradled by your father. Was this death? Reliving your entire life in mere minutes before your soul left your body. As you felt yourself being held gently, you relaxed even more when the serene sound of low humming lulled you back into that darkness until you were asleep again.

That was all there was until your senses began to return to you one by one. You were somewhere soft and warm. It smelled familiar but not familial. You ached…and your tongue felt heavy. Breathing felt as if your body was operating manually; difficult and jaded.

Your eyes cracked open, and you slowly took in your surroundings as your consciousness sharpened. It had been a few times now that you had awoken in that bedroom, and each time it became more and more unwelcome. You pushed yourself to sit up and winced when you tried to inspect yourself; your neck and shoulder and jaw hurt something terrible. All at once, you were bombarded with memories of the bite. The panic you had felt in that moment as that man’s teeth had sunk into you returned as you went ridged in the bed. Did you die? Had you been turned?

Your eyes flicked around the room anxiously to ensure you were alone. It all felt akin to waking up as a child from a horrible nightmare, and even though you knew you were safe in bed, you anticipated monsters and ghouls to crawl out to capture you. But after a few moments of staring at every shadow and and corner, you decided that you were indeed alone.

You pushed yourself out of the bed, and timidly padded over to the small table by the window where you saw a pair of scissors among discarded gauze. At one time you might have thought things through a little more, but you were on your last nerve, in pain, and cornered, and you were beyond thinking. You crossed the small room to the cracked door, and pushed it open the rest of the way as quietly as you could.

You saw the back of Father Pruitt’s black halo of hair where he sat on the small couch.

He greeted you- that low timbre of his voice resonating inside your ears far more comfortably than it should have. Without another thought, you threw the scissors straight at him. It missed the back of his head, but you saw the stripe of red that was left on his ear after it ripped through his lobe.

John barely flinched. Pain had become something he was used to, and feeling your wrath was something he had to do.

“I apologize for the…” He said as he turned to you and stood, “The suddenness of everything. I hope it didn’t startle you too much.” John gestured to you.

Your mouth opened with some prepared reply, but then when he looked at you, you snapped your mouth shut. Your brow pinched in confusion, and you looked down at yourself. There was nothing that stood out to you, but then you noticed the change in your attire. You didn’t wear pants and a t-shirt to bed typically. And you particularly remembered being disappointed about how your nightie had been soiled by the blood.

And you were clean.

Oh…

Oh god.

Your heart began to thud in your chest.

Why were you clean why were you changed why-

As you came to each realization, you returned your gaze to the Father, and he saw every ounce of shock and contempt there, “You- what did-“ you started, trying to find the right thing to portray your feeling of violation, “You- you took off…You washed me? You washed me.”

John shuffled a step and reached his hand out slightly to you, “I’m sorry…this thing is, you were quite a mess after your attack and you needed the rest…your clothes were soaked in blood and I just-“ he began to ramble.

“Wanted to help.” You finished for him.

Just like he always said.

The good Father nodded, but didn’t move any closer. It was as if John could sense a shift in you then. How your rage seemed to almost boil over as you stood there in his clothes, smelling like him, in his home. It was all too much after what had happened. What he had done. The life he took from you. The people he took from you.

You clenched and unclenched your hand.

Impulse took over, and you lunged towards the fridge, swiped a magnet off of it and threw it right at the imposing man before you. It bounced off his chest.

John sighed. He knew you needed to work through this.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you-“ he started again.

You threw a cup from the counter at him. It hit his head and toppled to the couch. Father Pruitt flinched slightly at the knock, but continued nonetheless.

“- I know you likely will decline, but …I think it would be best if you stayed here unt-“

The spoon you threw at him hit his arm, so you threw a knife too- it cut his cheek. You found a pot lid and threw that too.

It missed.

“-until you heal fully and I hold a town meeting with everyone.” John finished and closed his eyes as he found his patience for you.

He knew you heard him. Especially when you started throwing objects in rapid succession.

And the Father let you.

He could see the tears starting to pool in your eyes; he could practically taste them. Your suppressed emotions surged to the surface of your heart and exploded out of you in pandemonium. Everything you had wanted to do since Easter came out of you.

After several minutes, you slowed your attack. You stood only a few feet from him now after making your way along the kitchen counter to launch various debris at him, and his immobility only made you angrier. If angry was the right word…unsettled, frustrated, scared…it was all muddled together with guilt and grief and you found you didn’t know what you felt anymore.

When the older man didn’t move or even try to reason with you, you pushed away from the sink behind you and walked to him and slapped him square across the face.

Silence rang in your ears.

Your hand stung.

Did he even feel anymore?

The action seemed to stun both of you; you a little longer than he. John nodded as he blew some air out through his nose as if he finally understood something.

You needed to hurt him. And to John, he felt a great sense of peace in that.

“Go ahead.” He murmured to you.

You stood there, head craning up to look at him. For a moment you thought he might be patronizing you. then it was like every bit of restraint left in you ebbed away. Your hands balled up and began beating on him anywhere you could reach. You hit him and hit him and he waited. John watched you patiently, taking even breaths as you shoved at him and beat his body that wouldn’t bruise.

Your hands hurt. They likely sustained worse injury than he did from your hits.

Then all of a sudden, you stopped.

Father Pruitt watched as you sunk your head down, leaned your forehead against his chest, and sniffled. Wet patches began to dampen his shirt, and Father John had to suppress a sound of surprise. When you didn’t continue, and didn’t move away, he raised his arms from his sides, and wrapped you in them. His hands clasped together around your back like a bow keeping you tied. To the Father’s surprise, you nestled deeper into his embrace. Long, shuttering breaths wracked your chest against his that would catch in your soft throat every so often.

John was terrified he might do something or accidentally say something and break you out of your moment of submission. He closed his eyes and breathed in the calm. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had let him hold them so intimately.

Even when he and Millie reuinited after Easter…they never embraced for long. Over the decades, the closest he had come to embracing anyone would have seen when he consoled someone as they grieved. Perhaps it had been when you had let him dance in your living room…yes that must have been it.

John knew that the last time he had sat privately with Mildred when they were young they hadn’t embraced…it had felt like more of a meeting than an ending of a…whatever relationship they had had. Sneaking around when the island went to sleep. Hiding away during the storms…little touches when they passed eachother. Best friends in another life.

Now here you were…this sweet little young woman with hands holier than his; a man who had sworn a life dedicated to God.

He felt envy…among other things.

Yet another sin, but he couldn’t help it.

John knew that he had a tendency to ramble or fill space with words- an attribute he had learned over the years of being a priest. So he decided not to push anything in such a precious moment. He eased a hand up to your head and drew you closer into his chest, and softly shushed you. He hoped he resembled more of a man trying to comfort a young woman, but somehow he knew that his arms encircling you and that low hum of his voice soothing you was more akin to a hunter about to snap it’s prey’s precious neck.

The older man pushed that ill acknowledgment to the back of his mind.

“You’re not alone…you never will be.” he whispered into the crown of your hair after a long ten minutes of embracing you.

You sucked in a steadying breath.

“I don’t know if that’s comforting or terrifying, Father…” you replied, a small tremor in your hands as your temper settled under his touch.

He shrugged a little, though not condescendingly.

“It’s entirely up to you.” John sighed, “Only you can decide if loneliness is a blessing or a damnation…”

He was with you. There with you.

A long silence stretched on, then you sighed softly into his chest, and the warmth from your breath blossomed across his chilled skin under his clothes. The sensation made John’s hair stand on end with delight. You were trusting him.

It took two more minutes of contemplation on your part before you said anything. That question that had been on your mind since you woke up close to an hour ago. The question you should have asked him first. Now it prickled up the back of your neck begging to be asked.

“Am I…” you tried, but it was so quiet, “Did I…?” You couldn’t get the words out. You sighed and your shoulders sagged.

“Father am I a…?” You prompted him and looked up for any confirmation or denial.

John searched your eyes for just a second then he realized what you were asking.

“Wha- No!” He whispered almost relieved, “No you didn’t get-…you…you’re fine.” His hands squeezed you tighter as if to reassure you. Maybe himself, too.

You nodded and slowly pulled away from him; your arms hung limp at your sides. You stared up at his brown eyes that looked darker now than they used to.

You jumped when you felt his thumb wipe a few tears that fell. You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying again.

“My dear girl…You’re going to be fine…you’re alright.” He murmured to you.

And for the first time since Easter, you believed him.

And you wanted to.

Father Pruitt sighed and swallowed on the thickness in his throat.

“This…this is my fault- my fault and I-I see that now. It was always about God but it…it all went wrong, so wrong…” he whispered reverently as he remembered how long ago you truly had been okay. John’s eyes held yours as his voice broke.

“It did.” You agreed in a lofty murmur in an attempt to keep any more tears at bay.

He twitched a smile, but forced it away. He didn’t deserve to smile.

You looked down a little, then ventured a glance up as you spoke. “You…I think…I think it would just be best if you maybe revised the descriptions of angels in any of the holy books before jumping to conclusions next time, Father.” Your mouth twitched just as his had. You pursed your lips to hide the bitter amusement that pulled.

Father John breathed out some air he had been subduing.

“I think that would be best.” He nodded, and felt his heart soar at the sight of you accepting him a little. A fragile little bit. Precious.

The two of you stood silently in each other's space as you both seemed to bask in your current truce.

It was you who spoke first.

"I...I'll go home." You said, yet somehow it sounded forced. Rehearsed. You were so used to saying it and needing to get away that asking him if you could stay felt wrong.

It took him off guard, and he deflated a little. But he understood. He didn’t like it.

“You know you’re welcome here, sweetheart…” he reiterated, and offered you a small tight smile that he hoped hid how badly he wanted to beg you to stay.

You nodded, and fiddled with the edge of your- his- shirt. “I know…”

Another moment pulled on, and John was near to sinking to the floor for an answer.

“Can I make you coffee? I still have some I think.” He asked gently. Would you agree? If you did agree was it a sign that you would stay?

You wanted to shake your head, not wanting to ingest anything that wasn’t yours, but a fresh cup of coffee did sound like a godsend right then. And while you were still a little weary of him…you were willing to give him a chance. One.

“Okay.” You said.

John tilted his head to look at you a little better as he was flooded with joy.

“Yes? Good…good.” He hugged you again, but released you almost immediately. He was growing a little greedy with touch.

You fidgeted with your hands and stared down at how clean your nails were. Had he done that too? The skin on the soles of your feet almost itched and made you shift from the amount of attention you were receiving. Months of isolation could do that to a person.

“How do you take your coffee?” Father John asked as he pried himself away from your air. You shifted a little on your feet and told him how you took it, and he grinned- pleased that you accepted his offer.

Have faith…

That was what he told himself then as he watched you from the corner of his eye. He needed to have faith in you, and you in him. He needed to nurture the little faith you had left in you. Help you to thrive.

John knew he had to work slowly and steadily with you. He needed to remind you that he did have good in him, and that he too had once been a lamb just like you. Just another soul looking for salvation. Sadly he had thought he’d found it in a cave. He hoped you might find some semblance of salvation in him.

The anxiety you had felt upon waking still sat at the base of your skull and made your hair stand on end. That little voice of scepticism tickled your ear and made you shutter; you inched your way as little closer behind him as he filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. Watching.

John knew you were staring. You might have been the sweetest lamb in his flock but you hadn’t always been the best at being discreet. With your excitement, and your distain, your curiosity and boredom. At least not with the Monsignor. Evidently even now it was a force of habit that you let yourself be a little more honest around him.

When you saw him cross his arms as he waited, you stepped away and began picking up the various things you had thrown his way. The scissors, knife, spoon, recipe book, pot lid, among others. When you came to a mug you had hurled at him, you picked it up and meekly handed it to the man. He took it with a small smile.

The kettle boiled and steam made your cheeks flush from your spot beside the good Father while he poured the scalding water. John looked up at your watchful eyes, and his nose twitched in regretful humour. He wordlessly took his hands away from the small coffee press and began rolling his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, then showed you his empty, innocent hands.

“Nothing but a morning brew I assure you.” The older man said calmly.

The reassurance he offered you did little to cub your hesitation. You sucked in a breath and sighed. “Do you blame me?”

You had gotten so used to being weary around him that you were half expecting him to slip some blood into the strong drink.

He blinked and with missing a beat he said, “No.”

It seemed the two of you had some sort of unspoken understanding then. He wouldn’t hurt you and you would let him take care of you. You nodded your head, and turned away to pad over to the far wall to busy yourself with what books he had on his shelf. There were a few new ones you noticed.

Then your eyes slowly travelled over to the window, then to the newspaper clipping on the wall. You walked to it and stared at the grainy, youthful face that stared back at you. The same man who was behind you making you coffee.

You nearly hit the ceiling when the glass caught the reflection of the same face right behind you. You spun; startled at his proximity just a couple feet away.

“Sorry.” He said with a quick and slightly awkward smile as he offered you the cup. Those sharpened, white peaks poked out when his lips pulled back, and you were forced to remember that night again; the sounds still clear in your ears as islanders unleashed hell on one another.

You took the cup slowly, and gazed back at him for a moment before finally taking a sip. There was no metallic aftertaste. You sighed and closed your eyes. You needed that.

“Thank you.” You murmured to him, which he returned with a nod.

Tension kept you rooted to the spot, but you eventually managed to take a couple steps away, and gingerly moved past him to sat down on the small couch.

John didn’t want to crowd you too fast, and so stuck to picking up any remaining objects from earlier and washing a few dishes that had laid in the sink.

It was so quiet. While you were used to silence, you were not used to silence between people. You had been begging for an opportunity to talk to someone and here you were with exactly that, yet as fate would have it you couldn’t think of a word to say.

So you said the first thing you could manage.

“You swapped the cassock for jeans, hm?” You asked. It was stupid, but it had been something that made you shake your head with bemusement for months.

The jab at him made Father Pruitt’s brow jump and the lines beside his eyes deepen. Your humour had always been a welcomed companion even when you were little.

“Defiantly more inconspicuous.” He said, pausing to look back at you.

He missed you.

“Sure had everyone fooled…” You murmured. But he heard you…of course he heard you.

John pursed his lips and sighed quietly.

There was so much resentment and hostility inside you, and John knew that he put every bit of it there himself. You wouldn’t trust him on your own; you needed that guiding hand like he always had offered you. This time, he supposed, he faced the possibility of being nipped.

Father Pruitt was aware that you didn’t know every series of events following the vigil. You had run so fast and so far…so determined to stay alive. A crying lamb scattering away from the sharp blade that marked its fate with a red line.

The older man smiled bitterly, then moved slowly towards you.

“Can I sit, young lady?” He asked, coming around the edge of the small couch.

You watched him for a moment, then nodded and tucked yourself into one end of the couch to put space between you.

But then when John finally looked at you, he didnt know where to start.

You waited for a minute. When he still hadn’t spoken, you stared down at your coffee and blurted out another statement that had no rhyme or reason.

"Quite the cult following you have." You said.

Oh well done.

Months of loneliness truly had disintegrated your social skills.

But John’s head snapped up, and he laughed at the suddenness, "For a little while, yes...I did…I…the thing is, I thought it was their ability to hear God through me but…turned out they were more interested in what I had to say rather than God himself. They...they don't consider me much better than Judas now though and admittely I don’t blame them." He weaved his hands together in his lap and looked up at the ceiling.

You were surprised at the admission, "What do you mean?”

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “There is no short version of this for me to tell. But I’d like to tell you…” He said, leaning forward onto his knees, “Properly.”

You shifted a little at the seriousness in his voice, but supposed every story had a few sides to it, “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” He said genuinely, “I’d like to start…I’d like to start from the beginning…”then he paused and thought, “No, no that’s not right. I’d like to start by saying that…you have every reason to resent my actions, and me. But I think it’s only right that you know everything.” He nodded to himself.

You looked down at the coffee in your hands as he spoke, but once he stopped, you slowly looked up at him. He was staring at you intently, as if gauging where to start. There was so much he needed to tell you and so much he wanted to tell you. He needed to tell you how utterly devastated he was by his selfish actions. He needed to tell you that he had been a coward for most of his life. He wanted to tell you that he missed you. He wanted to tell you that you were what kept him alive.

He supposed there was time for everything.

“When I was young…” he started quietly, “I was in love with a woman who I could not have…not that I’m supposed to have any- well, she was married. She was very devout to the church…a regular just like you were. Her husband was in the war and…she was alone…so alone…we…we let our feelings grow…I gave in and -…She had a daughter by me…Sarah…she had my eyes-“

“Doctor Gunning?” You blurted out, then your eyes widened,“You and Mild-“

“Yes.” He said absolutely, “Our lives were spent staring at eachother from across the church while I watched our daughter grow and I couldn’t even have the courage to come down and tell her…not until it was too late. Sarah…” he sucked in a breath as his throat tightened, “Sarah was shot…She died that night…Millie she…she was distraught in every sense. I tried to give her this gift of life so we could try together and it went all so wrong and it was only me to blame.” You watched him speak, and watched tears well in his eyes. You didn’t know he could make tears being what he was…but here you were with the man who had baptised you, weeping.

He swallowed and gathered himself, “Beverly she…she spun everything out of control. I meant what I said when I first came here, you know? That I’m-“

“-only here to help.” You echoed him.

He looked at you a little relieved that you were there with him.

“Yes. Yes exactly- I meant that. I told lies, but that was not one of them.” He assured you, “All I wanted was to help. To fix the mortality that keeps us from living every chance we desire…take something off of God’s hands but even saying that now out loud it’s foolish. I was foolish because God does not need help He is above help and only needs us to follow his will and somehow I thought I knew better. As a priest, I am supposed to let God speak through me, but at that time I was speaking for Him. Creating my own message…so clouded by this gift given to me that I couldn’t listen…and He was telling me to stop. But I didn’t.”

You didn’t say a word, and he continued.

“Then Bev she…I thought she was doing good and helping spread this gift and spreading the good word…but she…no she was even more clouded than I was. She spun everything until it was all so so wrong…she unleashed a living hell onto the rest of the island. Screams…God help me so many screams that night…”

“I know.” You choked out as you both shared the memory.

“And then it was quiet. So, so quiet. She wanted me to chose who lived and who died. She said it was always going to be me who chose and I realised then that she was no better than the pagans worshipping idols and false prophets…she had put me in ranks with our Lord’s messengers and sought to give me power that no man should be trusted with. As the sun rose, the island hid inside the rec centre and St. Patrick’s…but when the people needed aid and guidance, she made an enemy of herself. It wasn’t a week before the people turned on her and locked her out as the sun rose…now they govern themselves. I- I believe they resent me. We still hold Mass, but it’s so fascinating to witness the shift of a persons perception of you even if it is negative. It…it is…different. I pray that in time they will see that my intentions were only good. That I was merely lost.” Father Pruitt trailed off, and clasped his hands together- squeezing them as guilt gripped him.

“You…” you sat up, coffee gone cold ages ago as you tried to process everything he had told you. “You wanted to give yourself another chance with her…you just…wanted…to help.” You said, mostly to yourself, but John nodded.

“I did. I still do. Only now I truly mean it when I say I am merely a servant of God…to God. My guilt follows me everyday until I am ready to meet my fate…decide it is my last day and I feel the sun for the last time.” His voice broke and he stared at his loosely clasped hands, “Until I am…set free.”

You placed your cup down and settled back onto the couch. You knew this could all be an elaborate lie to manipulate you. You weren’t stupid. But when you finally looked over at him, there was such a startling vulnerability there staring back at you. Like he was baring his soul to you.

“She was your best friend, wasn’t she?” You asked slowly, shifting your gaze to a crack in the floor. “Mrs. Gunning.”

A smile twitched at his mouth, “A lifetime ago…”

You weighed his words, and thought.

There had been so many times now where he had failed to lend his help; that cumulated with his ability to twist words and situations to his betterment did not provide him with the most wonderful track record.

“You’ve lied to me.” You whispered.

“I did, yes.” He replied. Honesty. Have faith.

“You…you manipulated me,” You swallowed, “When I trusted you.”

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse with regret. He wanted so badly to tilt your head to look at him.

“You regret it.” You stated.

“I do. Every day.” He shifted a little closer to you. So minutely. Just a little bit.

“Can you help me?” You asked quietly.

At that, his head perked up, and he finally caught your eye. “Anything.” He meant it.

You were everything now. Perhaps you had been everything all along.

You considered your request carefully.

“Can you stop them?” You were meek and didn’t expect much. Honestly you were expecting him to give you an answer that would make you want to ask more questions.

As you stared back at him, you felt as if he was taking you in for the first time. Like he was memorizing every ounce of you that he could see, and you felt suddenly very aware of your skin and your hair and the teeth in your mouth.

John considered what might happen if he stood up for your absolute safety from the rest of the community. Many of them had become domesticated and had settled into their existence, but many were still resentful, vicious creatures of his own making. And in their eyes, you were their forbidden fruit. Perhaps you would become even more enticing to them with his authority over you. Regardless of the steady supply of blood to the island, he knew they craved the warmth of a live body to suckle. He was beyond well aware of the craving because, admittedly, he too coveted your tender flesh. John so wished he was far above such vulgarity, but he still found himself having to remind himself that you were sacred. Untouchable. That he was not to pin you down under his weight and expose your neck and bite into your fragile skin…

It would be a lie if he said that there weren’t nights where he was particularly hungry and he didn’t find himself imagining smelling your hair as he drank from you…he had gotten lightheaded by the thought alone and prayed for the remainder of the night.

But John had control.

“I can. Yes I can help you.” He nodded, “I’ll need your faith though.”

You stared at him. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and it pained him. John took your hands in his, and knelt down in front of you as he spoke.

“One more time. I promise…just one more time.” He assured you.

You pursed your lips, and vaguely looked out the window.

“I can’t keep doing this…I’m…I’m so exhausted.” You half laughed out of spite.

Father Pruitt nodded.

“I know…I’m so sorry I know you are.” There was that break in his voice again. Like he was on the verge of tears. “You are on such a higher level than I am in God’s eyes. He sees you and He is testing you. And you…you are doing so well.”

“I don’t feel like I am, Father.” You weren’t sure why you were being so honest. There was something magnetic in the man that pulled your heart from you so carefully that you didn’t even feel it.

“Tell me what you feel.” He squeezed your hands. You twitched at the contact, having not touched anyone for so long. His hands were soft…so soft.

You were nervous to open up to him completely.

John could almost feel your apprehension.

“Please, I am the one who put you here in this situation, in this…life. Please make me know your pain.” He whispered.

You looked down at your joined hands, and bit the inside of your lip to keep from crying.

“Tell me what is happening to you.” He urged you one more time in a whisper. And you felt a single tear fall from your eye and onto his thumb. He wished he could encapsulate that tear and keep it- precious.

Your last bit of restraint crumbled under his desire to help you.

“I…I feel washed out from the shore,” you choked out, “Like…like no matter how hard I try, I get dragged back out by a squall that just wont stop. It doesn’t matter how many times I gather my strength…I can’t get back. I feel like I’m in some foreign land and no one is there. And all it’s going to take is one wave that’s a little too big and a little too strong that I won’t be able to get over…and I’ll be gone. Lost under the surface.” Another tear fell onto your hands.

Father Pruitt stared at you, barely blinking as he regarded you.

“Giving in sounds so much easier than whatever it is I have to do everyday.” You shook your head; you hadn’t said any of these thought out loud, and now hearing them made your heart ache even more.

It would be a lie if John said he didn’t know how you felt. There had been many a time where he considered giving in…burning. But each time he would remember you, and how cowardly he would feel if he abandoned you there. He would see that photograph that sat in your hallway of you on Easter as a child in his mind and manage to make it through another day.

“I remember your baptism…” John said after a moment, “You hated it…” he laughed a little, “But when I gave you back to your mother you were fine…resilient and glowing. I have faith that you will weather this. The waters may be stronger, but you’re still that same soul.”

You felt your tears fall, “This time you can’t hand me back to my mom though.” You laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it.

He sighed and looked around the small house for a moment then moved and sat down beside you, and opened his arms to you. You eyed him wearily, but he only waited. He had done the same gesture to you many times over the years. Helped you when you had slipped and scraped your knee, or when your father lost his temper when you got ice cream on your dress on Easter…when you got sick and missed Mass. Always gentle and paternal, but not nearly as intimate as this. Your soul was bared to him now. It was no mere injury or heart ache.

You were grieving.

And he would guide you through it.

You took a deep breath, and scooted closer to him. You felt one of his arms wrap around your shoulders, and draw you into his chest. Your shoulders were ridged for a moment, then as your anxiety waned, and he drew small circles on your back with his thumbs, you relented. You timidly brought your arms around his shoulders and what was meant to be a hug turned into you clinging to him.

“I hate you.” You mumbled. It wasn’t a lie. Not a whole truth either but it was the only thing you could get out.

The Monsignor sighed out an amused breath. You could truly be so curt when you wanted to.

“Hate is such a strong word…used to express how despicable and irredeemable a person is…and I understand. I’ll admit I’m not my biggest fan either.” He agreed.

You laughed.

It was pained, but you laughed.

You sunk into his embrace a little more, minding your neck and shoulder to not disturb the injury too much. He nosed your hair, and settled into the cushions with you in tow.

Your heart clenched when you tried to recall the last time you had been embraced by someone for so long and unrushed. You only grew sadder when you truly could not remember.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep. What you did know was that you were opening your heavy eyes, and your body was warm and relaxed. You slowly took in where you were, and found that you were still in Father Pruitt’s arms.

There was a rumble against your ear, and you noted that it was him sighing. Your hand was gripping his shirt like a lifeline, and he still held you to his chest. And oddly enough, you felt safe. Wrapped in the embrace of the person who terrified you. Friends closer and enemies closer you supposed.

You slowly pulled away from him, and looked up at his face and he stared down at you. Your noses brushed for a moment, and you felt your breath hitch. He didn’t dare move- like a hunter about to shoot his beloved doe.

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered, warm air wisping against his lips.

He knew it then just as you knew it.

You were lost without him. And not in a way that made you reliant on him for your saving, but instead made him responsible for your healing.

“I won’t.” He murmured earnestly. He would always be a part of you; he had single-handedly etched himself into your life, and even if you left him right in that moment…he would somehow still be with you.

You pursed your lips, and fought the sting in your eyes as tears threatened to spill over again.

Then just as you started to pull from him and stand, John spoke. “Stay…” he said almost pleadingly.

You paused and looked at him as he rose to stand with you.

“Please, just…just for a day or two, you’re not fully healed.” He added, shifting a little as he stumbled over his words, “ I need…I need to speak with the town too…I may not look it anymore but I’m still their elder and they will hear me.”

You paused.

Redemption. You were letting him redeem himself in someway. His offer, while likely coming with good intentions, still made you nervous. You knew what they were like when they were hungry. And Father Pruitt was turned for longer than them, so either he had better control than the rest or he was even hungrier-

“You will not be harmed here, I swear.” He said, “I want to help you.”

You stared up at him, still thinking. You wanted to be helped…at this point you needed it. You were losing yourself completely to solitude.

He whispered your name.

“I need- need to help you. You’re lost…you said it yourself- how hard everyday is for you…and I have to take most of that blame. The thing is, I gave you so much security and assurance when I returned that now you cannot move on from this traumatic point in your life without my help. Let me help you…I know the horror you feel there in your heart- I- I saw it all too. Felt it. No one else could do that for you. Let me help you.” He whispered, hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he spoke, “Please…I need to.”

You bit at the side of your tongue, but found yourself growing weaker in resolve; you weren’t sure if it was from the wound still closing on your shoulder or from the way his dark eyes entranced yours as he spoke to you like you were the most important thing in the world in that moment. But the desperation in his voice ensnared you.

“…Okay.” You whispered back.

John nodded, a rush of air spilling from his lungs.

“Thank you…” he whispered back, and pulled you close, one hand on the back of your head, and the other around your ribs; careful to not disturb your wound, “I’m…I’m going to take care of you.”

Those words alone had your nose tingling as tears began to rise to your eyes, but you sniffled and fought them back.

The remaining hours of the winter daylight were only a few, and you spent them wrapped in a blanket that smelled of the man sat at his desk.

A respectful distance away from you.

Old fashioned.

You laughed a little to yourself when you looked at him so concentrated in his grey jeans and sweater. You wondered if he was more vibrant when he was young. Or was he always an old soul at heart?

“Old man…” you breathed out absentmindedly into a cup of broth he had made you.

“Deprecation is not in good manners, young lady.” He murmured back to you, and you nearly choked.

You forgot that he could hear the tiniest of whispers.

“S-sorry…it just…funny to see Monsignor Pruitt in jeans.” You said, cheeks warming.

John grinned.

“Ah…yes well…I can’t say I’ve worn them since I was a young boy…always saw the young parishioners wearing them by the 80’s and I always wondered what drew people to wear them so often…I won’t lie they are a little stiff at first.” He said in good humour, looking up from his writing.

You held his gaze for a minute, then nodded, “They suit you, Father.”

Your comment caught him off guard, and you chose to let him sit in that slight discomfort. So instead of saying another word you just smiled a little then turned away from him and nestled into your blanket a little more.

A half hour passed before either of your spoke again. This time it was he who approached you.

You were nodding off when you heard him walk over to the couch and crouch in front of you.

“We gotta change your dressing.” He whispered gently, patting your knee. His eyes flickered over your face as he tried to discern how you were feeling. What you were feeling.

You drew your heavy eyelids up and curled in on yourself, “Can we do it later?” You mumbled- already half asleep and so comfortable that you finally knew what those cinnamon rolls you used to make felt like.

“I know…I know…c’mon, hold onto me.” He slipped his hand under your blanketed legs and hoisted you up to walk you to the bathroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and buried your face there.

“There we go…good girl, just sit there for me and I’ll be right back.” He sat you down on the small counter, and retrieved the gauze from the bedroom before returning to you. You peeled your eyes open to watch him work. He snipped the fabric to have it ready quickly, then took a deep breath before gently removing the medical tape that kept your old dressing in place.

“Father it hurts…”You hissed a little at the sting and ache of the wound and how some of the gauze was stuck to the edge of the wound and pulled.

“Shh…shh…there you go,” he cooed to you. You then heard him swallow as the bite was exposed.

“That bad?” You asked.

The good Father blinked and took a steadying breath, “No- no not at all. Healing well actually…just…uh- just it- well…it’s- you’re doing good.” He stumbled over his words as he cleaned around the skin.

You looked up at him now, and he seemed to catch your sobered expression.

“I’m fine.” He said reassuringly.

And you nodded.

“I’m going to take care of you.” He repeated, then tossed the bloodied wipe into the bin and began bandaging you up.

“There you go…good as new.” John didn’t smile; he was almost looking for your approval. Still uncertain. He was almost waiting for you to say that you had enough and that you’d leave. But it didn’t come.

You nodded and let him help you into bed, and he felt a little reassured.

But then as he went to go after bringing your blanket up to your neck, he felt your hand grab his sleeve, and he paused and knelt beside you. Your eyes were closed and your breathing was already slowing.

“Thank you John…” you whispered.

The older man felt tears well in his eyes, but he swallowed and leaned his forehead to your hand.

“I will make this right…” Father Pruitt said quietly to himself. He watched you fade away, and found himself tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear before leaving you to rest.

You slept well into the evening, long past sunset.

When you awoke, the room was dark aside from the sliver of light from the cracked door. You blinked slowly, willing your weariness to go away as you slipped from the bed and to the floor; the cold wood sobered you a little as you padded to the door.

“You must be hungry.”

You jumped at the soft voice from the kitchen.

You pushed the door open and meekly looked out into the main room- your eyes adjusting to the light.

John was stood over a small pot that he stirred occasionally on the stove. It was only then that you smelled that he was making, and your stomach growled in recognition of food.

John hid his grin well when he heard your hunger.

“My mother used to make this all the time when we needed some healing…physical or mental…tell me if it needs anything I…I can’t really taste it.” He said gently, raising his bowed head to look at you. John stood with a spoon full of the soup as he waited for you to decide, and he felt a swell of pride in him when you slowly started to walk to him.

You tried to hide the fact that your stomach was doing flips at his gesture. You couldn’t recall the last time someone had made you food.

“Open…” He breathed out, and you parted your lips; his eyes caught your pink tongue just inside your mouth as you accepted the spoon. A detail he didn’t know what to do with.

You let the taste fill your mouth.

It was good.

Really good.

You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you…it’s really nice. Just a little more salt, please.” You wrung your hands as you spoke.

The older man nodded, and watched you turn away to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk. A shiver ran through you then, and you sighed as you begrudgingly went to stand to retrieve a blanket.

John turned to bring you a bowl of soup, and quickened his steps when he saw you getting up. “What do you need?” He asked.

“I’m just a bit cold.” You said, and went to move past him but his large hand caught your arm.

“Sit, I’ll get you something.” John sat you back down and placed to soup in front of you while murmuring something about the liquid being hot. You watched him disappear into his bedroom then reappear just a moment later with a pair of thick socks, and a blanket.

“Oh thank yo- …Father what-…” you went to take the socks from him but he knelt in front of you and tucked the blanket around your hips and thighs, then began putting the socks on your feet like it was the most normal thing in the world.

John’s eyes caught your surprised stare, and blinked up at you, “Eat up, sweetheart or it’ll get cold.” He hummed.

You felt your ears grow warm, but you didn’t dare open your mouth to protest and tell him you could take care of yourself. You also decided to ignore the warmed that gathered behind your navel. So without another word, you turned and began to eat what he gave you. You sighed as it went down your throat; you didn’t know how you had managed to make it this long without some kind of human connection.

“I have Mass tonight.” John said and he stood and sat behind his desk- sorting through his papers.

You looked up from your bowl and nodded. Your anxiety rose slightly at the prospect of being alone after what had happened.

Evidently he heard your heart rate spike, and his focus broke from the papers and jumped to you instantly.

“You will not be harmed. It will only be a couple hours. I have the only key to the rectory after Bev- after she…passed. I’ll be speaking with the island tonight…I put in a word for all to attend tonight.” The priest spoke earnestly.

You peered up at his direct gaze, and sighed then nodded. “Okay.”

He returned the gesture, “Okay.” He whispered.

You watched him gather his things, and found yourself surprised by how your eyes followed him around the modest house as he readied himself. You startled yourself with the realization of how attached you were becoming to his presence, and you quickly looked away from him.

John sighed and grabbed his notebook then came to crouch down in front of you. “If anyone knocks, go into the cellar…if anything happens, open the back window and you come to me.” He said firmly.

Your eyes flickered between his, “Okay.”

He grinned a little and patted your cheek lightly, “There’s a good girl…eat, and have more water.” He pointed to the kitchen and you watched him leave. The lock clicked into place.

You felt alone again.

Although this solitude was not altogether uncomfortable. Just quiet.

You could hear voices approach the church and wander nearby. Unease churned in your guts as they drew close, and you chose to relocate to the bedroom. You filled another bowl of soup and shuffled to the back of the house where you cocooned yourself on Father Pruitt’s bed. A wince escaped you when you laid down wrong, and you rolled your shoulder to try to ease the pain. It was more of a dull ache now that throbbed every so often.

You downed the soup, and curled in on yourself. You wanted so badly to shower…to brush your hair and feel more like yourself. You felt far more exhausted than you should have; you wondered if the bite had come with some sort of poison that your body was fighting off.

Sleep took you before you could stop it. It wasnt until you felt a large palm against your cheek that you started to wake up. You nestled into the hand and burrowed yourself deeper into the pillows below your head.

Then you could hear your name being said softly.

After several minutes, you cracked your eyes open. When you did, you were given a bit of a fright.

John was leaned over you just a foot away as he tried to rouse you from your sleep. What startled you however was how the light from the living room caught his eyes and made them glint in the darkness like the cats that used to populate Crockett.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and backed off a touch, “It’s been a few hours…just need to check your dressing.”

You sighed and while you truly did not wish to move from your spot, you did not want an infection in the middle of winter.

“‘S okay…”you mumbled as you got up.

Father Pruitt gingerly pulled your shirt’s neck down and removed the bandage. You were healing, slowly.

“Father?”

John blinked and looked at you, “Yes?”

“Could I take a shower?” You asked. It had been almost two days, and you could feel yourself growing itchy.

The older man ground his teeth for a moment at his lack of care for you.

“Of- of course. The uh…the bite is healed enough that you can wash up under warm water.” He began looking anywhere but at you as he was reminded of how he had cleaned you.

You nodded and slipped past him into the small bathroom, “Um…do you have some clean clothes?” You asked timidly. You hated that you had to keep asking him for help; John on the other hand was elated.

“Y-yes just let me…um…” he began searching through his clothes and found you some pants and a shirt that would likely be warmer than what you had currently. The pants you would likely have to roll up.

You found a little amusement in how he seemed to be so uncomfortable; it wasn’t that it was sweet or gentlemanly, it was that you had been so distressed for so long because of him, and you enjoyed seeing him in the same position.

“Thank you.” You said, and left him there to wash yourself.

John released a breath that relieved a little of the pressure on his chest when you closed the door. He needed to do more than his best for you, and you seemed to be very aware of that. Knowing that you needed him to be better made him unable to relax. John knew he could be cowardly, and selfish, and very wrong, but he was going to do his damnedest to be more than his mistakes and sins. Even if it was the last thing he did.

When you returned to the living room, you found Father Pruitt standing with the rectory telephone pressed to his ear as he looked out one of the windows. You felt your stomach sink at the thought of him telling anyone you were there. But then again, they likely already knew.

“Yes…yes it seemed to go well…blunt or not, they needed the line drawn. No, just wait. I wou-…y/n, it’s okay, sweetheart, you can come out.” He called to you as he paused his conversation.

You timidly shuffled out the door and peeked over at him. He held his hand out to beckon you over as he hummed and mumbled a few things over the phone. You padded over to him, and he kept his gaze trained on you once you came within reach.

John reached up and tucked a few hairs behind your ear and touched your chin gently, “Good…and they understand?…good,” he said, “Yes…she’s strong. Alright. Take care.” He extended his arm to place the phone back on the receiver, and sighed, “Annie.” He said.

Your heart squeezed, but didn’t say anything.

“She’s worried about you,” John hummed, “I spoke to the island last night. Instilled the fear of their god into them lest they touch you again.” His voice lacked any malice or anger, in fact it was very calm, but there was no hiding how tight his jaw was.

You nodded, and tugged at the blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders.

“Father?” You asked him.

“Hm?” He hummed.

“I want to take a walk.” You said.

John stopped looking at your bandage and focused on you, “I don’t-“

“And I want you to come with me.” You finished.

That surprised him, but pleased him greatly.

“Lead the way, young lady.” He cracked a small grin.

You nodded, and disappeared back into the bedroom to find the socks he had given you and a sweater. When you returned, you frozen in your place when you saw him shrugging on that long black coat that was older than you.

“You kept it…” you mumbled.

Father Pruitt paused and looked down at himself, “Ah…yes well I suppose we all have things we grow attached to.”

You pursed your lips, and pulled the sweater you had taken a little tighter before you walked to your shoes and slipped them on. They were clean now, no longer muddy and full of grass.

John joined you by the door, and you looked up at his as he opened the door. He seemed to feel your pause, and turned his attention to you.

“You’re safe.” He whispered earnestly.

There was a calm that came over you then. You didn’t necessarily want to trust him, but you had told yourself that you would let him try to redeem himself. Trusting him was the first step.

You nodded, and stepped outside into the early morning air. The winter temperature made you shiver, but the crisp air was refreshing. You took a slow step out onto the grass, and looked back at Father Pruitt who stood at your shoulder like a guard.

A guardian angel.

You almost laughed at the thought.

He nodded, and placed a gentle hand on your back to encourage you. You truly hoped he was being sincere and wasn’t guiding you into the hungry mouths of the islanders. That this hadn’t all been an elaborate lie.

The frosty dirt and gravel under your feet crunched far too loudly. You could only imagine how loud it was for the man beside you. He chose not to comment.

John couldn’t have cared less about the sound of the road you walked on; he was far more occupied with listening for any islanders nearby, or that winged monster. He didn’t know who had done it, but whoever had cut holes into its wings had done Gods work. Forever contained to Crockett.

The two of you made it almost into town without incident. As you passed the marina, there were several old fhishermen maintaining their boats. Men you used to feed and laugh with. It look mere seconds for them to smell you and hear your heart. One by one their heads snapped up.

You could feel your natural instinct to run, but you felt that hand on your should and farm around your back that steadied you as you and the father stared back at the men.

You sucked in a breath, and turned to the older man, “I’m okay.” You said quietly.

John turned his attention to you, and his clenched jaw loosened.

The two of you moved on through the town. Left and right, heads poked out from windows and people stopped to stare at the pristine lamb walking through their den. Neither of you said a word as you passed the general store, and your old shop.

“Y/n?”

You stopped in your tracks. That voice broke your heart with just your name. You looked over past Father Pruitt, and saw Ali just several feet from you with Warren.

You couldn’t breathe all of a sudden as the memory of burying his father flooded you after so long of you praying to forget it.

“Ali.” You whispered.

The boy took a few tentative steps towards you, then almost ran to you and held you tight. You knew he wasn’t the most affectionate teenager, but as he gripped you, you could almost feel his own sorrow. You pushed the pain of the wound away even as his arm pressed on it.

“Thank you…” his voice came from your uninjured shoulder.

You embraced him and rubbed his back gently, “He loved you, Ali…he still does.” Your voice broke, but tears wouldn’t fall.

He sniffled, and tightened his grip, then slowly pulled away. You noticed how he wouldn’t look at the men beside you. In fact many didn’t. Perhaps he had told the truth about being ostracized.

“I’m sorry…I’m- I should have listened to you I’m sorry-“ he started to ramble.

You shook your head, “Ali…Ali it’s done,” you whispered, then remembered something his father had told you, “Inshallah God will have mercy on you. If I meet him before you, I’ll put in a good word.” You smiled a little, and he stared at you like you had given him the best possible news.

“Thank you…thank you.” He hugged you one more time, before you let him go, and began walking again.

John watched you from the corner of his eye every so often as you made your way through town. He was pleased that he only had to ward off a couple islanders who got a little too curious, and he noticed how you could subconsciously lean into his side when he did.

You house was always a no-go zone for anyone. Especially after your attack. That night when he addressed the islanders, John hadn’t been that angry since Easter…hadn’t yelled so venomously in so long. Now your home sat peaceful and empty.

He watched you gather the things you wanted and needed and stuffed them into a duffle. Photos and books and things that held memories or that you held dear to you. Things that could make anywhere feel like home. Clothes and shoes and snacks. You muttered occasionally to yourself, and gazed longingly at your stand mixer sitting on your counter as you passed it. You missed being you. You missed…living.

You might have stayed and reminisced a little longer, but the sun wouldn’t stay down forever. With just a few more things placed into the bag, you pulled it over your shoulder and walked back to the door where a Father Pruitt stood waiting.

He extended his hand out to you, and you stared at it a little confused, then he nodded to your bag, “I’ve given you enough of a burden to carry in this life.” John didn’t wait for you to hand it to him- he slipped it off your shoulder and onto his like it weighed nothing, then opened the door for you. You grabbed a coat off the pegs by the door, and slipped it on over your borrowed clothes.

Your fingers ached from the cold as you walked back across the island. You buried them into your pockets, and kept your gaze ahead as you went. Just as before, several heads turned as you went by. Your stomach hurt when you saw Annie standing with Ed in their doorway as you passed by. It had been almost 10 months since you saw them, and now you almost felt estranged.

You had begun to notice that whether you wanted to acknowledge it or not. But you truly didn’t belong anymore.

As your journey passed by that gap in the brush by the shore, you paused and began towards it to visit the halo of stones. You crouched down onto the cold earth, and placed your hand over the now-framed photo of Hassan and Ali on his grave.

You sighed, and looked up at the dark sky, “Put in a good word for me, too.”

John swallowed any words that tried to worm their way out. He didn’t deserve to comment. Instead, he stood by and watched you wipe off your knees as you straightened up, and continued on.

The two of you began to come up to the rectory, but then just as you went to turn down the path, you stopped again. You thought for a moment, then turned to the Father.

“Can I take you one more place?” You asked.

“Of course.” He said, and quickly placed your bag inside before joining you again. This time, you continued on past the church and towards the other side of the island.

You slowly led him out to the Uppards, and you walked him over to a patch in the grass that you now knew well. You sat, and patted the spot beside you, “Sit.” You said.

John took the place next to you, and stared out at the water.

“This was where I sat that night.” You said into the wind, “Waiting…”

John watched you, pain clinging to his chest. He had wondered where you had run. What shelter you had made for yourself.

“I tried to keep Leeza and Warren safe, I really did but…it just wasn’t enough,” your broken whisper came out in puffs of vapour. You could feel those emotions you had been certain were guarded start to rear their heads.

John so badly wanted to comfort you…to offer something. But your heart was racing and your breathing was heavy. You needed to say more and he wasn’t going to deprive you.

“He-…” you tried, “He was a good man, Father. Hassan just…he just…wanted some place quiet and safe for Ali…he died being hated but he deserved so much more. Ali deserves so much more and you took that.” Your cheeks warms as that rage began to seep into you.

“I did,” He said finally, voice hoarse, “I did take that and I’m so…so sorry and I wish I could give it all back…” he shook his head and looked over at you as he spoke. You met his gaze and pursed your lips, “There are no words that I could say now or in a hundred years that could express my sorrow to you.” He spoke earnestly.

You sighed, and stared at him, “And what about me?” You whispered.

His breath caught.

“What about me, Father?” You asked.

He thought for only a moment, “I took so much from you…I think the only thing I didn’t take was your faith. I told you…that night…to have faith. The thing is, you do have it. Your ability to believe in good and better is…astounding. You are…so good. And I hurt that. I cannot tell you how guilty I am. I was greedy.” John said honestly, “With so much, but especially with you, I was greedy. They say God mends wounds in time- physical, mental and emotional…but I would place no blame on you if you didn’t heal from what I put you through. You were so bright…so loved…just…Lord so beautiful. So beautiful inside and out and I was a coward for much of my life trying to hide that ugliness and I envied you. I am…so, so sorry.”

The older man looked away from you to stare out at the dark water. You felt a stray tear fall down your cheek at his words. He had hurt you, but you hadn’t expected it to be more than skin deep.

“I hurt something because I found it sublime and I wanted it to last forever. I was…cruel. I was cruel. I didn’t notice the destruction that came with it. And I’m sorry.” John looked back at you, and you noticed the glassiness in his eyes. A few tears fell.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. It might have been an hour that passed before you slowly reached over to him and grasped his hand. He was almost instantaneous in holding it in return.

“What’s it like, Father?” You asked, and looked over at him.

He returned his attention to you, “What’s what like, little one?”

You stared back at him and took in his handsome face. His dark hair that fell a little over his forehead, his dark eyes and full brows. It took a moment of your staring for him to realize you were asking about the… “gift”.

He paused and sucked in a breath before shaking his head, “Well you…you see things you’ve never seen and heard things you never thought you would be able to…smell things you didn’t know could be smelled. I could hear the flowers blooming when I stood close enough…the world breathes. Sings…glows brighter…magnificent.” John thought aloud, looking around him until he came back to you, “But too much of a good thing is bad.” He smiled bitterly.

You blinked, and nodded.

Father Pruitt squeezed your hand, and sighed, “I may not feel the cold but you do. C’mon sweetheart, let’s get you back.” He stood, and pulled you up with him.

You didn’t protest, and let him guide you out of the brush and onto the path. He took you through the marshy woods and along the stone road until you neared the rectory. You noticed then how it was starting to get lighter out. You slowed your steps as you came to the grass, and stopped completely.

John felt you stop moving and looked back at you. His brows pitched up in confusion, “Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He asked, fearing your wound had opened up or you had gotten ill.

But you just stared up at him and waited. A beat passed between you where he looked around and inspected you, trying to figure out why you wouldn’t move, then it dawned on him. John stopped looking around, and tilted his head down to gaze back at you. Seconds ticked by and the world around you grew brighter and brighter.

And you waited.

But the Father wouldn’t move. You saw his eye twitch when the warm glow started to break through the trees.

That was enough.

You took his hand and tugged him along where he scooped up your bag that had been resting on the stoop and entered the rectory just as the sun rose. Neither of you commented on what had just happened, not that you needed to. You wanted to see if he had been truthful; did he honestly want to change and stop being a coward? Would he die for you if that was your wish…as someone who he had taken everything from and manipulated.

You felt yourself soften towards him after that night.

For once, he told you the truth.

You let him take your jacket off and watched his hands unzip it. You took your bag and placed it in his room, where you opened it up and slowly took everything out. You felt silly grabbing so many things that you didn’t need…but not having them felt stranger.

You pulled out a fresh pair of your own clothes and didn’t think twice before you lifted up your borrowed shirt.

John Pruitt, ever the gentleman and holy man, froze when he caught sight of you through the open door. He might have chastised you for being so careless if it was anyone else, but he couldn’t get the words out. He saw the curve of your back and swell of-

Turn around John.

He spun on his heel and grabbed a book off his shelf and sat on his couch, facing the very opposite of where you were. It took a few more minutes of you shuffling through your things before you padded back out to him. You passed the couch and placed a pair of your shoes by the door. John could smell your scent again now that it wasn’t muddled with his clothes.

Then you came back and plopped yourself down beside him and leaned over to his shoulder to see what he was reading. “What’s this, Monsignor?” You asked softly.

The title gave him pause and he looked up from the pages.

“It um…it’s a collection of German fairytales.” He mumbled, only now realizing what he was reading.

You leaned closer, and laughed quietly, “Didn’t know you were German.”

“Oh I’m not- it was a gift…many years ago. Decades…Christmas I think. People seem to have the idea that priests lack any fear and don’t like a nice ending for stories. I’ll be honest, y/n this book always scared me a little.” John turned the page and grimaced at one of the illustrations.

“Be not afraid…” you whispered quietly. Those words made his heart ache; words meant to help and comfort were now tainted by his own doings.

You both quietly sat there, not saying a word. As you slowly let you guard down, you could feel yourself starting to recover after months of running on nerves and willpower. Your head grew heavy on his shoulder, and John realised after a minute that you had fallen asleep. He remained where he was and shifted you so your legs were across his lap and your face was in his chest. The last thing you needed was an aching back.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@ellies-dad-jokes @littleredwritingcat @zaunite-leo @f4er1e-g1rl @purplemotif @vampyre-kin @hamishlinklaters @spacechupss @pansexualpamandabear @ebiemidnightlibrarian @erialuna @nilla-bear @vintageglassheart02 @ethanhoewke @dancingisdangerouss @cherrysugarx @daisychainsinknots @thesoundresoundsecho

#midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #flanaverse #hamish linklater #father paul hill #father paul #father john pruitt #father paul x reader #father John Pruitt x reader

79 notes · View notes

zephyrine-gale · 9 months

Note

I recently got into Honkai Star Rail through you art and I was wondering what made you ship Blade and Dan Heng? Hope you have a great day ❤️

they had sprinklings of lore throughout the game and I love that! also the very first dan heng nightmare pv was 👀 that was the first thing that made me curious about their dynamic I'm also a sucker for dynamics that are a little unhinged and plague each other's dreams, gotta have a healthy balance of feral so the more intimate moments hit harder ajfjgkgh it's that friends to lovers to tragedy to enemies pipeline

it's that unrequited connection from someone forced to live because of past consequences, and someone who bears the weight of those sins but desperately wants to disconnect from the past. they're currently at their lowest rn but that just means they can only go up from here, and I'm really interested to see how they interact once they learn more about their past

their backstories are very much intertwined, alongside the high cloud quintet. I'll put some stuff that stands out to me below the cut!

Nowhere to Run lightcone

This isn't the first time he's seen this man. This man had become his own inseparable shadow. No matter how many times he runs this man through with his spear, the man always comes back. He can neither lose to this man, nor truly win. Though he wants to run away, there is nowhere to run.

Dan Heng's char story II

Very sus of u blade to chase after another man through countless planets and still recognize him after he's changed his appearance

Blade's char story II

The black-haired young man shivered violently all over, but still clutched onto the spear in his hands. He had no dragon horns, and his reaction was slightly less mature than he remembered... But he would never forget this spear, these eyes, and how cruelty burst out from beneath the mirror-like emerald calmness. His wounds began to heal. His irises flickered and fixed their gaze at the boy once more. Without hesitation, the boy made another flourish with the spear... "That's it." The one who showed no mercy to enemies - was you. The one who single-handedly buried the beloved - was you. The one who almost led the place called home to its destruction - was also you. He fell down again. The teen pressed his hand against his own wounds and retreated, until he was no longer in the man's sight. "Before I witness your death in person, we will meet again, ███."

the beloved = blade the blacked out name = dan feng/imbibitor lunae it implies they knew each other in the past, but DH doesn't remember. Blade doesn't remember much about his past either, only that his mara strikes are triggered by seeing his xianzhou friends of the past (he most likely doesn't remember them as friends)

They share a pair of bracers!

the entire Passerby of Wandering Cloud set is Blade lore! he's such a tragic character, he's been through quite a lot, you should give it a read if you have the time :'>

this one is the backstory for the dragon bracer:

It seems that pairs of objects have telepathic connections with each other. Though the unnamed only had one bracer in his possession, his fingertips could still faintly feel the temperature from the other. He closed his eyes, trying his best to extract any information about the other bracer from the tenuous connection, be it its location or master. A slender yet strong hand once wore the other bracer. That owner, whose sharp spear glinted with a cold light and flourished like shooting stars, once sparred with the unnamed. That owner also once shared company and drinks with the unnamed, the two of them simply gazing at the moon with no words exchanged. However, in the end, it was also this person who stubbornly adhered to their plans with the unnamed, turned the beloved into a monstrosity, and pushed all into an abyss of eternal hatred and remorse. Pairs of objects are destined for an eventual reunion. The long years of grudges and hatred between them should be savored, like ice-cold aged liquor, one slow sip after another until the bottle of resentment is finally empty. Would the wearer of the other bracer feel the same? The unnamed didn't want to know.

the unnamed = Blade = Yingxing

drinking under the moon together -> in cn this is very ceremonial bond/close relationship-coded. Yingxing and Dan Feng were close

Yingxing, a short life species craftsman

Yingxing has the bracer on his right arm and Dan Feng has the other pair on his left

They also share jade pendants (they look like they'd slot together, forming the head and mouthpiece of a cn lion)

This is a line from a vidyadhara egg, but I find the implications very fitting for them :'>

Yingxing created DH's Cloud-Piercer (as well as the other weapons for the High Cloud Quintet)

Blade's char story IV

He remembered that, decades ago, he came to the Xianzhou with a merchant vessel and was impressed by the superb craftsmanship of this place. The young man was obsessed to the point of forgetting to eat or drink, and spent his inspiration like he was running out of time. He forged hundreds of marvels, four of which were the most famous. ... The black-haired man with dragon horns used his water manipulation abilities to rejuvenate his allies, and in the next moment he bound the water upon his spear and used it to ran his enemies through.

Blade's iris shape is similar to IL's lotus motif. lotuses symbolize resilience and rebirth--fitting for both of them, though one came back wrong :'>

Blade | About Dan Heng:

It's been heavily implied that Dan Feng and Yingxing did something that caused catastrophe and resulted in DF being forced to molting rebirth + banishment, and Blade being cursed with immortality and banished.

Dan Feng trusted Yingxing enough to sneak him into the Scalegorge Waterscape and let him do research--into what? we're not sure yet, but since Yingxing is a craftsman, he's probably creating something from the ambrosial arbor?? or from something relating to the vidyadharas. Perhaps he got cursed with Shuhu's gift here?? or DF somehow gave YX immortality, who knows...

I think their plan may be related to what we learn from Imbibitor Lunae's companion quest

SPOILERS FOR IMBIBITOR LUNAE'S COMPANION QUEST

There's a big focus on vidyadhara's immortality through molting but inability to reproduce, so any casualties in their numbers results in a permanent decrease in their numbers. Dan Feng's sin may be related to changing that (and failing, creating a dragon abomination that they had to fight against instead. although a whole separate vidyadhara was born from the catastrophe--Bailu).

END OF SPOILERS

Big hc delulu hrs now

Maybe being around the High Cloud Quintet made Dan Feng realize he didn't have a legacy to leave behind, unlike them. Every high elder becomes like the former, they lose their own sense of identity. I'd imagine being around a group of friends with their own agency, who also saw DF as a normal person, made him realize he also wanted to break free from the high elder cycle.

Yingxing may have been DF's biggest wake up call just bc he's a short life species who has done so much, who achieved more than anyone could imagine in a fraction of a lifetime of those in the Xianzhou. DF saw a star shine bright and couldn't help but follow and maybe wish he'd never lose sight of it as well.

Maybe it was for the selfish reason that he didn't want to lose these memories of the people who truly cared for him--of the people he truly came to care for--that he committed such a grave sin

He was dehumanized by everyone around him, I wouldn't put it past him to just. Snap one day, break his cold and calm poise, cry of desperation and fear of losing something dear to him

This kinda became a DF thing but personally, while DH himself may want to distance himself from DF, they're still the same person with shared memories (that DH can't remember)

It's similar to how Blade distances himself from Yingxing because he can't fathom his former self becoming the monstrous thing he is now

I'm really looking forward to when they can both reconcile and put their past to rest

#honkai star rail #dan heng #blade #renheng #theres sm about them that's interesting I probably missed stuff #they plague my mind they eat at my brain cells i just keep thinking about them #back to my animatic i need to finish it ajdkkjg #they click smth in my brain cell that a normal fluffy all happy dynamic wouldn't click #vidyadharas are known for their tragedies after all #long post

276 notes · View notes

writing-fanics · 1 year

Text

⁂ starry eyed ⁂

✦ Hunter X Collector!Reader ✦

[Chapter One: It Takes Time] part ii

previous chapter > next chapter

word count: 4,970 or 11 pages.

“Hoot hoot! Practice every day, or I'll appear in your nightmares.” the bird said in the tablet, “Oh, okay. Well, I'm going to pick Luz up from school. Pop quiz. ¿Como se dice eso en español?” She asked, looking at the kids. (How do you say that in Spanish?)

Hunter stands up, “Oh, oh! Uh..” He inhales, and tries to speak spanish but fails. “.Voy a recoger a Luz de la escuela. (I am going to pick up Luz from school.)” Vee says, looking at Camila.

“Muy bueno! Keep it up.” Camila says, and then turns to leave the shack, and sighs, “I never expected to be a mother of six.” She says, walking off to pick up Luz.

Hunter sits down to to Gus as everyone resumes learning spanish, from the tablet. Flapjack is still pecking on the floor.

“Taxi.”

Taxi!

“El gato gordo.”

“El gato gordo!”

Amity sighs, “Maybe we should take a break.” She says, and Willow smiles, “A siesta.” Willow says, and Gus repeats what she says, “Siesta!” He says, and Amity looks at him, “We've been here for months, and we've made no progress on the portal door. We can't expect Camila to take care of us forever.” Amity says, and the others look at him.

“In the meantime, we could pull more weight around the kitchen. My mustard ravioli did bring tears to her eyes.” Gus says, smiling, and Vee looks at him. “Those weren't the kind of tears you're thinking of.” Vee says, looking at him. Hunter then appears holding a jacket he made, with multiple patches with exposed stitching, “I can help fixed damaged clothes!” Hunter says, smiling. Willow holding up a plant mosnter, “I can spruce up the garden!” Willow says, and the plant mosnter growls at Vee.

“Maybe we need to look elsewhere. There's an entire Human Realm to search.” Amity says, she flinches when Willow takes a picture of her. “But Luz has school most of the week.” Willow says, looking at him, and Amity looks at him, “So? Let's explore the town ourselves. After all, Luz went into the Boiling Isles on her own.” Amity says, looking at the others.

“If Eda came here before, maybe there were others. Maybe they left something behind we can use.” Gus said, and Amity looked towards him, “Yes! That's the spirit! Together, there is no challenge that can hold us back.” She says, looking at him and Amity then trips in a hole Flapjack pecks and faceplants.

“Ow.” Amity groans, and Gus shouts, “It's a sign! We're doomed!” He says. Amity sits up and looks at Flapjack, “Come on Flapjack, this isn't funny anymore.” She says, looking at him and once she gets her foot free, she sees something in the hole. She gasps, “There's something in here.” She says, and holds up a hexagonal box, opens it and takes out a scroll, and unrolls it and all gasp.

“Hmm. Looks like a map?” [Y/n] says, tilting her head as she looks at it, “Or a secret code?” Willow says, and Flapjack twitters and lands on Hunter’s shoulder, “Flapjack, is this what you've been looking for? What does it lead to?” He asked, looking at his palisman.

“That eye, it kinda looks like the old portal door.” Amity says, and Gus and Willow gasps and look at each other, “The portal door! Portal door! Portal door! Portal door!” Willow and Gus, chant.

“Let's tell Luz.” Vee says, and Amity looks at her, “What if it's just another dead end? She already feels responsible for our other failed attempts.” She says, and Willow looks at her, “Then, let's not tell her until we can figure it out. Using our buff brains!” Willow says, and everyone says the same thing.

Next Day

“All right. Luz is at her mom's vet clinic putting tiny little bandages on "hedgehogs." So today, we're going into town to solve this code.” Amity says, looking at the others, “Ears.” Gus said, covering up his ears, “Routes.” Vee says.

[Y/n] then uses her magic to get a side of the purple side of her face, “Snacks, check.” Willow says, holding her bag of snacks. “Human disguise, check. Eh?” Hunter says, wearing what was basically a costume, [Y/n] chuckled softly.

“Oh, that is a look.” She says, using the polaroid and taking a picture of Hunter, Hunter walks between Gus and Vees, the former looking amazed, “According to Cosmic Frontier, this is what the modern human male wears.” He says, and Vee looks at the book, “This was written in the '90s about the year 2008.” Vee said, looking at him. “Yeah. Can't wait for that New Year's party.” He said, Gus looked at him, “And did you get to the last chapter?” Gus asked, looking at him, “O'Bailey is still hiding the fact that he's a Duplicant in

hyper disguise. But Captain Avery is figuring it out.” Hunter says, “I think he already knows but-” Gus says but is interrupted by Hunter.

“Ah, bup-bup-bup! No, no, no, no, no spoilers!” Hunter says, looking at him, “Hunter, I don't think the world is ready for the brave fashion choices of the year 2008. Please change.” Amity says, and Willow gags Amity, “Don't listen to her!” Willow says, looking at Hunter.

Vee taking her human form, “Aw, geez, we're gonna miss the bus.” Vee says, and Hunter looks at them, “Oh, it's okay! I'll catch up. There's a transport worm every half hour.” He says, and the girls nods, and leave, Ghost meowing as she joins Amity, [Y/n] turns back and closes the door.

"I'm gonna borrow that book when you're done with it." [Y/n] says, looking at him making a finger gun and winks. As she closes the door, Hunter sports a happy blush as he removes his headphones. Flapjack twitters.

"You know, maybe you're right, Flap." Hunter says, as he looks at himself in the mirror, "Even if I'm not who I'm supposed to be... I like who I am right now." He says, and then he notices something on the table and touches it, then he sees Belos in the mirror reflection. He gasps.

Amity, Gus, Y/n, Vee, and Willow aere exploring Gravesfield. “First stop, The Magic Circle.” Amity says, as they enter the shop: Gus and Willow look around while Amity and Vee question the cashier. [Y/n] looks around curiously, but nothing is catching her eye. Until she notices, a star shaped necklace with a crescent moon her eyes look at it in wonder and she takes it.

“Hey!” the cashier shouted, Gus knocks over a barrel as Willow in devil costume, pokes a customer with a pitchfork. The kids are chasing out, but Willow returns to pay for the costume and the necklace she noticed [Y/n] had picked up, with two snails then leaves again.

They cut through a park, and Willow, Gus, and [Y/n} stood at two familiar-looking statues. The kids all go to the library next, where Amity sees a card catalog. She expected it to be living and greets it and bows, and gives it candy which falls to the ground. A child then opens one drawer, and Amity shouts. Embarrassed, she tries to run away and trips on the candy and falls. Then they head to the giraffe exhibit at the zoo. Gus bows to it, with no response. They all leave cautiously, but Willow takes a photo that scares the giraffe which opens its mouth to reveal a monstrous inside.

They all scream and run off, “I don't blame our ancestors for banishing those guys. Yeesh.” Gus says, and sadly looks towards a child. “Dad, can we go to the bird hall?” A child asks, looking up at their father. “In a minute. How about we eat first?” The dad says.

Vee sighs, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but... I think I know where to go next.” She says, and then they arrive at the Gravesfield Historical Society, “

.the others head inside the building but Vee stands outside, Willow turns to look at her, “You can wait here if it's too scary. Luz told me about that creepy witch-hunter wannabe.” She said, looking at her.

“It's okay. We just faced down a giraffe. I can do this!” Vee says, and then Vee walks up and kicks down the door fists raised and screaming. “Huh?” She says, looking around and realizing Jacob is no longer here. But instead her Masha from camp, “You're not Jacob.” She says, walking up towards the counter, “We can all thank Goddess for that. He got fired after he started making edits to the exhibits.” Masha says, looking at her.

They point to a cardboard cutout of Jacob in his armor with a sign that says ‘Local Hero- Humanitys Last and Most Handsome Hope’ the cutout collapses forward. “I work part-time now. Say, have we met?” They asked, and looks closer at Veem “Something about you seems familiar.” They say, looking at her and Vee, nervously chuckles.

“Uh, no. I'm new in town. I just have one of those faces. J-but just the one. The normal amount of face.” Vee says, nervously lookig at them. Masha laughs in response, “What a coincidence, me too. If you ever need a tour guide, hit me up.” They say, looking at her, and they hand a pamphlet to Vee and she takes it, awestruck a blush showing on her cheeks.

Amity steps out from behind Vee and presents the puzzle, “We're actually here to ask about this old puzzle. Do you know how to decode it?” She asks, “Ooh, a rebus. They dug up a bunch of these in Old Gravesfield.” Masha says, looking at it.

“This is a rebus?” Gus asks, looking closer at it, “Yeah. It's like a riddle where pictures and symbols make up a word. Like- Come here. What do you think they were trying to say?” They asks, looking at him.

“Chop off an ear!” He says, holding down his beanie.

“No. See the H that comes first? Then combine that with the ear and maybe it means "hear" like, to listen. Or, "here" as in a place. Maybe something is waiting somewhere.” They says, and then their phone rings. “I'll be right back.” They says going into the back.

Amity looks down at it, “If this is a portal door then what about these? A-a ribbon, and tanning a hide?” She asks, and the others look down at it trying to decode the riddle. “That ribbon is tied together.” Willow says, looking down at it. “Next to that hand with a cut.” [Y/n] says, looking at it.

“You don't think…” Willow says, looking over at Amity, “This is leading us to…” Gus says, “Tie tan's... blood?” Amity says.

[Y/n} was in the living room with the others, searching through a box of halloween costumes, “Hey, we're back!” Hunter says, and chuckles, “And we bought some, uh, cars.” He says, and Luz elbows him.

“Luz! We're designing our costumes for the Haunted Hayride.” Amity says, looking at Her, “Guess what I've got planned? I'm gonna be Captain Avery and you're…” Gus says, Hunter then gasps, “Chief Engineer O'Bailey?” He says, and Camila gulps, “How do you know about Cosmic Frontier?” She asks, nervously.

“All the books in your basement.” Hunter says, looking at her, “Oh! Funny how things just show up in basements, right? Without you hiding or putting them there. Life sure is full of surprises.

“Cool! Humans freak out just like us.” Gus says laughing. “It'll be fun. We want to experience your weird human traditions.” Willow says, and she puts on vampire teeth and laughs.

[Y/n] smiles, finding a pair of wolf ear hair clips and putting them on with a curious smile. "I'm going as a wolf." She said, looking into the and seeing the wolf tail."And I thought you and I could take inspiration from...Good Witch Azura The Movie 2: The Betrayanning!" Amity says, pointing the remote at the television. And pressing the button, playing the movie.

"Hecate! I'll protect you!" Azura says, holding an unconscious Hecate in her arms, "Give her over, Azura. It's for your own good." Villounious Lucy, said looking down at the witch.

"Never!" Azura shouted, looking at the villain.

I could be the Hecate to your Azura. What do you think?" Amity asks, holding up a drawing and walking towards Luz. "Oh, wow. Yeah, let's do it!" Luz says, happy as she pulls Amity into a hug.

"How could you do it, Villainous Lucy? How could you betray your friends? Now everyone is gone!" Azura shouted, looking at Lucy.

"It was for the greater good." Lucy says, looking at her.

"We'll never forgive you. Never!" Azura shouted.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Later that night, [Y/n] lay fast asleep on the mattress on the ground in Luz and Vee's room, stars floating around her head as she slept peacefully. Snoring softly, she nuzzled her head into the blanket. Amity shooed away some of the stars as they floated around her face, groaning and turning over to her side.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Next DAy

Camila dropping everybody off. Amity, Y/n, Gus, and Hunter, true to their word are dressed as Hecate, Wolf, Captian Avery, and Chief Engineer O'Bailey. While Willow's wearing the devil costume she bought. After walking forward and pocketing their palismen, Luz gets out, her Azura costume. "Make sure to help Vee with the trick-or-treaters. You know, they can be... demanding." Luz says, looking at her mom.

"Luz, are you okay? You don't look so well." Camila asks, looking at her daughter.

“I was just so excited for this, I couldn't sleep.” Luz says, nervously.

“All right. We'll keep the puzzle a secret 'till the time is right. And then we'll tell her about the Titan Blood!” Amity says, to the others. Belos laughing in the distance, and Hunter turns to look towards the woods, “Did you hear that?” He asks, looking at Flapjack, who chirps in response.

“Hey, it's okay. It's probably just in my head again. Nestle down, Flapjack.” He says, and he chirps.”We're gonna have the best night, and we might even have a surprise for you.” Amity says, to Luz, and the others start walking towards a stage.

“Yeah, me too.” Luz says, sadly.

“I hath seen the Mrs. Smith consorting with spirits unpure.” Actor 1 says, acting out the scene of a witch trial, “ Is this true, Mrs. Smith?” actor 2 asked.

“Nay, 'tis a fool lie! Inquisitor Jones is tarring me a demon's varlet so as to take mine fields!” Mrs. Smith says, and the actor 1 points at her, “Demon lies!” Shouts.

“Your honor, I do object! It is Inquisitor Jones who's in league with the dark forces!Gus says, going on stage, and the actor 1 looks at the kid, “Kid, come on, this is my spotlight.” the actor says, and then Gus uses his illusion magic. And the crow cheers.

“Why are you clapping? These children are demon spawns. And they want your teeth! Look! Look at his ears! He's from Mars!” Jacob shouts, as he runs on stage and grabs Gus.

“Hey, lay off the costume, man.” He says,and the two guards tackle Jacob to the ground. They walk towards the haunted hayride, and sit down, “I hope you're all prepared for a truly scary ride.” Masha says, to them. “Make us cry! Make us cry!” Willow and Gus chant, and Masha looks at them,

“Because there's nothing scarier than knowledge.” Masha says, and Gus looks at them, “Boo, just lie to me!” Gus says.

"Let me tell you the eeriest unsolved mystery of Gravesfield. The Tale of the Brothers Wittebane." Masha says, and the group becomes intrigued. Amity looks at Luz and Hunter, "Wittebane? Isn't that Belos?" She asks, looking at them.

"The year is 1613. Two orphaned brothers arrive in Gravesfield. Their names. Phillip and Caleb." Masha says, and Hunter looks at them nervously, "Oh, no." He said nervously.

As Masha narrates the story, cardboard cutouts depicting events that happened to Phillip and Caleb play out in the background as the gang watches.

"Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother. They tried to fit in with this town, and its unsavory practices." Masha said, narrating each part of the story.

" They became witch-hunters! Local lore suggests that the Brothers Wittebane met a real witch from another world! Her name was Evelyn."

"And the older brother was spirited away. She dazzled him with magic and visions of a strange yet beautiful place. They used a secret code to travel between worlds."

"Philip set off to save his brother and bring the witch to justice. But neither were ever seen again! Maybe Philip saved Caleb, and they went on to lead peaceful lives. Or maybe" They said, turning on the flashlight on their face. "he's still chasing his brother, caught in a cycle of horror and strife!" They said, and the group gasps

Masha turns off the flashlight, "Sounds like big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and little bro got upset. But that's just me." They say, and the hayride ends and the gang gets out of the tractor. Nearby Hunter hears Belos laughing, which terrifies him.

Hunter gasps, "Luz." He grabs Luz and takes her behind a tractor. Luz yelps, "What's going on?" She asks, looking at him, "It's him. He's here! I saw him this time. And it wasn't in my head after all. You believe me, right?" He asks, looking at her.

"Well, how can you be sure? What would he be doing here?" She asks, looking at him and he hesitates for a moment, "Titan Blood. I'm not supposed to tell. But the secret code that guide mentioned? It's a puzzle, a rebus we found in the shack. Amity thinks it leads to Titan Blood!" He says, to her.

"Titan Blood? Puzzles? Amity? Why didn't anyone say anything?" She asks, in shock looking at him, "You and your mom do so much for us. We wanted to do something for you, and she's gonna surprise you with it tonight." He says, looking at her, and she looks at him uncertainly, "That is so sweet." She says.

"Hey, where's Luz and Hunter?" Amity says, looking around. Hunter and Luz look at each other, "We need to find the Titan Blood first. Just to make sure. I don't wanna freak anyone out yet." Luz says, looking at him.

Hunter frowns annoyed and angry, "You don't believe me yet, do you? Fine. I'll prove he's here." He says, and looks down at Flapjack, "Flapjack!" He whispers shouts and Flapjack chirps, "Can you get the rebus?" He asks, and Flapjack chirps.

"I'll say that again." His voice, distorted with Belo's voice, "Get the rebus!" He shouts, and Flapjack chirps flying off and getting the rebus out of Amity's pocket.

“Hey! What the heck?” Luz says, looking at Hunter in shock. He looks at her shakingly, “Sorry. I don't know what came over me.” He says, looking at her and Flapjack places the rebus on his lap.

“Good work.” He says, and Hunter and Luz run toward the woods. Hunter is getting further and further away from Luz, and he looks down at the bandage from his finger, noticing the green goo.”What the…” He says and sees an image of Belos in the woods. Luz not far behind him, “There!” He shouts and runs off panting.

“Hunter!” Luz shouted, panting as she ran after him, but stopped for a moment to catch her breath. “Hunter! Think. Think. Hunter is following the rebus to Titan's Blood. But how can I find the blood without him? Come on. You can do this.” She says, and gasps.

“Glyphs are powered by the magic of the isles, by the Titan itself! The closer I am to the Titan Blood, the stronger the glyphs become.” She says, as she draws light glyphs and uses them as a guide to get closer to the Titans’ blood.

“Luz? Hunter?” [Y/n] calls out, looking around for her friends. “Did you find them?” Amity asks, and [Y/n] and the others shake their heads. “Calm down. They probably just went to buy some more cars.” Gus says, trying to calm Amity down, “Yeah. Yeah. You're right. I just- I wanted to show Luz the rebus. Wait. Where did it go?” She said, in shock realizing that it was missing.

Everyone gasps, and Camila pulls up in her car along with Vee, and both get out. “Kids! Have you seen Luz? And has she, um, said anything weird?” Camila asks, looking at the kids, and Vee pulls out her phone.

“Boom! Find a phone.” Vee says, and the phone starts beeping.

Luz arrives at an old graveyard and sees Hunter standing on top a hill in the middle. She uses, her magic making an ice bridge to get across, “Hunter, are you okay? Did you see Belos?” She asked, looking at him, and Hunter kept his back towards her, not making eye contact.

“Oh, no. Just my imagination playing tricks again. Why don't you find the Titan Blood while I find my palisman? Little guy got spooked off.” He says, and Luz looks around for the Titans Blood.

“Good idea. All this Belos talk has me on edge. But I hate to ruin Amity's surprise. I really appreciate that everyone wanted to do this. You guys are great friends.” She says, walking around, “Have you found the blood yet?” He asks, and she looks toward him.

“I'm on it. I just have to-” She says, kneeling down and her eyes widened seeing, Flapjack hiding behind a gravestone, trembling. “Flapjack? Why do you look so scared?” She asks, looking at him, “Didn't you use an ice glyph to get here? Your magic is working.” ‘Hunter’ said, his voice distorted sounding like Belos.

“Luz? I think she's this way.” Amity said, across the river and walking down the path and getting closer, to where she was. “Mija?” Camila shouted, “Hunter?” [Y/n} shouted, in the distance, everyone searching for their friends. Luz looked towards, ‘Hunter’, “Guys, where are you?” Gus shouted, in the distance their voices getting louder and louder.

‘Hunter’ looked down at Luz, “I saw you. Glyphs do work here.” He said, his voice distorted, “You. You survived.” She said, in shock looking up at him, “I did. Thanks again for all the help, Luz. But I don't need you anymore.” He said and outstretched his arm to attack Luz, but she dodge. Falling to the ground. Her hat falling off.

Flapjack landed beside her, “Flapjack!” She said, holding him, and placing him on her shoulder. They watched as ‘Hunter’, shoved his hand into the ground pulling out the Titan’s blood, lifting it up above him, and smiling, “Ah. There you are.” ‘Hunter’ said, smiling, and the vial is then knocked out of his hand by an ice spike. Luz launches more glyphs at him but all of her attacks miss.

“You're not even trying right now. What? Afraid you'll hurt him?” He asked, looking at her, and finally, everyone arrives and sees what had been happening before them, “Is that Hunter?” She asks, in shock seeing him.

“Something's wrong.” [Y/n] said, seeing what had happened to Hunter, 'Hunter' smiled “See, this is why you're so useful, Luz. You're so desperate to help people, you even helped me meet the Collector.” He said, looking at her and Amity looked up in shock, “What?” Amity said, and Luz looked at him. “I didn't mean to. I thought I was doing something good!” Luz said, looking at him.

'Hunter' smiled at her evily, "You did do something good. I thought this one was another lost cause." He said, as he looked down at his hands. Then back up at Luz, "Because of you, we can finish our work as witch-hunters, starting with them!" He shouted, as he reaches for the witches, but Amity summons her palisman to swat away his hand. Gus and Willow also summon their palismen to fly and attack, 'Hunter'. But he manages to swat away one of Gus' illusions.

'Hunter' laughs, "Hey, Belos. Remember me?" Gus said, and Helos tried once again to grab Gus, only to grab another illusion, as Willow grabs one of his stretched arms and slams it down. Vee leaps over the stretched-out arm, landing on her feet, "Hang tight, Hunter!" Vee said, as she starts draining his magic with her powers.

"Vee, watch out!" Amity shouted, flying towards her and tackling her out of the way, Gus grunts, as they all land on the opposite side of the lake. St

[Y/n] looks down at everyone then back over at 'Hunter' across the lake. First, he lied and now he had the gull to posse Hunter? He had another thing coming. She balled her hands up into fists, and she started levitating, her teeth were clenched and she had an angry look on her face. She flew towards him swiftly, she was about to attack.

'Hunter' grabbed her by the neck, "Y/n!" Everyone shouted, and she struggled, gasping for air as he tightened his grip, "Surprised to see you here." He said, and she groaned as she placed both her hands on his wrist, and they glowed.

"I know you can hear me, Hunter. Fight him off!" [Y/n] said, looking at him, struggling. "You know, your really starting to get on my nerves." He said, lifting her high up from the ground. She then aims the palm of her hand at his face, and a tiny explosion emits from her palm. Stunning and dazing, him causing him to let go.

She falls to the ground coughing, and her entire body shakes for a moment. 'Hunter' groans, and his gaze immediately shifted back towards her, "Why you littl-" He shouted, she didn't have any time to react, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Her eyes widened, as one of his

outstretched arms came towards her this time. Grabbing her forcefully by the face, his claws digging into her flesh.

She screamed in pain, and all 'Hunter' could do was let out a small chuckle, and she was flung her towards the almost portal-like arch way. "Y/n?!" Everyone shouted, as her body landed on the ground like a rag doll. A groan escaped her lips, as she struggled to stand back up but collapsed.

Flapjack starts chirping and pecking at 'Hunter's' antlers, but the latter immediately catches him. "That's right. You wouldn't want me harming your precious palisman, would you?" He said, holding the palisman in his hand. the others look at him in shock.

"Oh, but then again, I don't care what you want. Goodbye, Evelyn." He says, squeezing Flapjack, causing him to crack and starts to absorb his essence, but lets him go as Hunter comes back. and starts fighting over the control of his body.

Flapjack then weakly flies into Luz' palm while leaking palisman essence from the cracks in his body, he let out tinly gaps and groans, as he looked up at Luz weakly. Luz had tears in her eyes as she looked down at him, "Flapjack! Flapjack, you'll be okay." She said, crying.

Hunter groaned, as he punched himself in the face as he fought for the control over his body back. Falling to the groaned, as sweat ran down the side of his forehead as he started panting. "You know what I'd like, Belos?" He said, standing to his feet and letting out another groan, as Belos fought for control over Hunter's body. Hunter placed his right arm over his left, holding it down.

"I'd like to leave the Emperor's Coven and never step foot in that throne room again. I'd like to study wild magic, and learn how to carve palismen." He said, as he walked down towards the lake, the other's watching.

"I'd like to attend Hexside as a regular student and play flyer derby with my friends. I'd like to stargaze with Y/n. But most of all, I'd like to make sure you never hurt anyone again!" He shouted, grunting as he throws the vial of Titan's blood into the river.

"No!" Belos shouted, still inside Hunter's body, and jumps into the water, managing to catch the vial but falling unconscious. [Y/n] who laid across the stream unconscious, a single tear rolled down her cheek as she laid on the ground.

"Oh, no! No!" Luz shouted, worriedly, "Move." Camila said, she jumps into the water to save him and manages to rescue him and host Hunter into the surface. "Be careful with him!" Willow says, and Belso finally leaves Hunter's body as he takes the monstrous form he previously had.

"Caleb! You would stab me in the back?!" He shouted, and Luz stares at him angrily, "You did it to him first." She says, looking at him.

Belos, outraged, smashes the vial of Titans' blood into the archway, opening a portal to the Demon Realm. a soft groan escaped [Y/n]'s lips, and he turned to look at her and lunged toward her, taking control of her body.

'[Y/n]' stood to her feet and turned to look towards the others, for a split second her eyes faded from blue back there her normal eye color. "Hunter?" She whispered, in her normal voice her heartbreaking seeing him lying lifeless in Willow's arms. "You promised." She whimpered tears in her eyes.

She groaned in pain before Belos took control over her body again, an evil smile formed on her face as she tilted her head to look at the others. "This is for the good of your souls. You'll thank me later." Belos said, as he slowly backed up into the portal taking [Y/n] with him. Everyone was left speechless.

taglist

@supernerdycookietrashblr

[a/n: this took me so long to get done cause I realized I pasted parts into the wrong place so i had to fix it in docs. omg next chapter will be shorter]

#collector!reader #hunter x collector!reader #hunter toh x you #hunter toh x reader #hunter toh x y/n #hunter toh #the owl house x reader #the owl house x you #the owl house x y/n #hunter wittebane x reader #hunter wittebane x you #hunter wittebane x y/n

212 notes · View notes

thetarttfuldickhead · 1 year

Text

Locker Room Conversations II

In which there’s hurt and comfort and a bunch of awkward silences, and the writer satisfies her need for Jamie to be called up for England and for Roy to maybe say something nice to him once in a while.

“And I’ll se y’all after the break, yeah? Make sure you have some fun. And to Sam, Dani, Colin, Van Damme and Jamie – best of luck out there. Win or lose, I know you’ll make your countries and more importantly yourselves just as proud as we all already are of you.”

It’s a nice little speech, staying remarkably on tangent. Woops and applause follow, and that’s that for the last practice before a week of international break and world cup qualifiers.

“I’m so excited,” Dani exclaims, as if that wasn’t his natural state. “This is your first time too, right, Jamie?”

Jamie’s sprawled on the bench by his locker, too busy showing Cockburn something on his phone to bother getting changed. “Uh, yeah. Did the U-20 when I was nineteen, but nothing after that.”

“How come? I mean, you’re such a great player, you would think they would have called you up sooner!”

There’s a slight hush at that, starting hesitant and quickly edging closer to awkward. Dani’s smiles fades into faint bewilderment as his eyes wander from Jamie to the other players, none of which return his look.

The silence drags on for another moment, and then Roy turns from the board where he’s been writing down instructions (don’t forget cardio, don’t be an idiot, stick to your sleep schedule) for the players having a week off rather than going away to play for their countries.

“He wasn’t called up earlier because he was blacklisted for being a huge fucking prick.”

“… oh.” Dani doesn’t sound too surprised; more than anything he sounds downcast, as if reminded of an unfortunate fact he’d been happy to forget.

Perhaps it’s that rather than Roy’s pronouncement that has Jamie sit up straight on the bench. “Yeah, I wonder what trusted old England player they got that from.” He’s clearly trying for casual, unbothered, and he’s not entirely succesful.

Roy crosses his arms. Stares right back at Jamie without blinking. “Not going to fucking apologize for telling people who asked me that you were an absolute fucking nightmare to play with back when you fucking were.”

Jamie’s not good at hiding his emotions, and the full spectrum of them is there to be read on his face now: hurt warring with anger warring with resignation warring with embarrassment. He wants to bite back but struggles not to; knows that there’s truth to Roy’s once-assessment but still wants to defend himself or press for an admission that it isn’t true anymore. His mouth open, closes; he doesn’t speak but his face speaks volumes.

The room is quiet. Ted looks from Jamie to Roy to Jamie and back to Roy again. When Roy remains silent, remains unmoving, he shakes his head:

“You’re really not gonna tell him how you’ve spent weeks calling up all those same people to make sure they know how great he is now, huh?”

An exhalation at that, travelling through the room as tensions ease and shoulders drop.

Roy turns his head slowly to fix Ted with his coldest glare. “No. I wasn’t.”

Ted is unflinching. Too used to the Roy Kent Special Stare to be cowed by it now. “Well, you know, sometimes these things are better said out loud.”

Roy’s growl suggests that he absolutely does not fucking agree. He very pointedly does not meet Jaime’s eyes, studiously avoids seeing the grin slowly growing on the younger man’s face.

There’s only a hint of triumph there; mostly there’s just pleasure tinged with shyness. “Thanks, Coach.”

“Don’t fucking mention it.” As Jamie opens his mouth, Roy quickly raises his hand. “I mean it. Don’t mention it.”

And he stalks towards the door – but then he relents, pausing right next to Jamie, not looking at him as he offers in a voice suggesting he’s about to rip someone’s head off:

“I wouldn’t still be spending fucking hours of my free time every day training you if I didn’t think it was worth the fucking effort. Of course you should fucking play for England. They’d be idiots not to have you, and you’ll do fucking great.”

And he is gone.

The hush is easier this time, lighter.

“It’s interesting,” Jan Maas ventures eventually. “Even when he’s paying you a compliment, it sounds like he’s insulting you.”

“Yeah, well, if he had to say it and sound like he meant it, the grumpy old bastard would probably turn to stone or something.”

Jamie’s smile is a thing far too stunned and far too soft for it to seem like he means what he’s saying either.

#jamie tartt #roy kent #dani rojas #ted lasso #roy's continual struggle with expressing anything but rage #the point is that he keeps trying though!#also do not fact check the football stuff #just roll with it #locker room conversations #ficlet #my stuff

168 notes · View notes

codename-adler · 6 months

Text

first snowstorm of the winter here in Montréal, Canada so…

Foxes vs. the great white shitstorm

Kevin: PTSD from the-skiing-accident-that-never-was bc that’s how far his trauma goes BUT will brave the snow if accompanied bc Exy is an interior sport thank u mom for that one. chances are he also probably bunkered down at the Foxhole court beforehand so he wouldn’t have to witness a single snowflake nor be separated from his one true love. bunker supplies include a shit ton of OJ bc the man is fighting away the flus and the colds like it’s The Plague Part II: 1347.

Matt: has to be stopped by Dan, once again, from buying a snow plow to fix in front of his truck. like every place where winter = snow, the PSU campus is severely unprepared for the onslaught, it’s like they’ve never seen this shit before and if I could just help out the community that way it would be a win-win for everybody Dan don’t you get it? it’s still a no, so Matt proceeds with unleashing his energy outside, alone, grumbling and building snowmen (and snowphalluses once Nicky joins in)

Nicky: DECKS THE HALLS EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE, FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA. it’s tradition for him to wait until the first snowfall before decorating for Christmas, as a compromise (if it truly were up to him, 1st of November would be Christmas Tree Day, but he made a deal with the twins who, despite despising their birthday, would absolutely not have Jingle Bells and and holly on November 4th). the thing with Nicky is, he exhausts himself very, very fast and loses focus/productivity in the blink of an eye, so all you see is a path of garlands and pine needles leading to a zoned out Nicky munching on frootloops in a beanbag. the Foxes will have to finish what he started.

Allison: during daytime? fab as ever, hyped to get out her winter outfits and order another 3k of winter gear, boots, scarves, gloves etc. for herself. then she shops some more for the Foxes, some genuine bougie shit, some wtf shit to make fun of this season's chosen victims (see: Kevin always, a little bit Neil to chase away the nightmare of the past year, and this year's winners: Dan and Aaron). but once nighttime hits? it's war time. it's UGLY time. thermo one-piece suit, the old 3XL PSU Foxes men's sweatshirt Seth bought himself in his first year, tight braid shoved under a tight camo sports balaclava, spy goggles slapped on her naked-bar-fake-lashes face, heavy duty boots, and snowballs. yes, snowballs. starting this year, she's initiating the Yearly Foxes Snowball War. she's got her Santa bag ready and full of compact snowballs as she goes down the hall, breaking and entering every Fox dorm and obliterating them unprovoked. queen behavior. conquering among the squeals of Matt Aaron Kevin the vanquished!

Renee: hater mode activated. it's only for the first snow, it's only for one day, but it's brutal. her smile is tight, her socks are fucking wet by noon and she's had it. the little gremlin dives under a pile yay-high of blankets, destroying one or two of her advent calendars and eating 25-50 pieces of chocolate to sate her ire. she's the only one safe from Allison's assault, she's only asked if she'd like to join in the snowball fight instead, which is a hard no from Renee. next year, though, Allison's provided her with the same tech-gear and she's ready to unleash her anger on her unsuspecting teammates. but only after the chocolates.

Dan: nope. nope nope nope. she's so cold. so cold. she's craving warmth wherever she can, making the Foxes jump when she shoves her iced hands or feet into them. she's bundled up in layers upon layers of clothes. she's drinking coffee and tea by the gallon. she's scrambling for every lip balm she can get her hands on. she's making soup, and soup, and more soup. spicy ramen, three beans, lipton, chicken cream, veggie mix. she's got 2 thermos at all times, one hot drink, one hot soup. soup mama.

Aaron: first victim of cold season. if there's a snowflake, Aaron's got snot. no amount of ginger shots, garlic nostrils, citrus slices or soup can prevent the inevitable. man down by sunset, congested af, broody and pitiful. everybody makes fun of him, most of all Neil. look at the hot shot doctor bested by a lil cough-cough. the one year he didn't get sick so early, he had to get the new flu shot bc he's premed. needless to say, man down again.

Neil: ultimate x-games galore, here he comes! for the first time in his life, he's allowed to indulge, and try out every winter sport under the sun. Exy's still his wife, but man is snowboard up there with snowshoes-running and ice-skating and sledding. he's monstrously good at hockey, to Kevin's great disappointment. he thinks he'd have quite liked being a hockey player hadn't it been for Exy. and the mafia. anyways, he's unstoppable, he's exhausting, he's everything. he's Barbie.

Andrew: tiny emo beef man is fucking-A-ready. winter tires ON, tire chains ON, windshield cover ON, broom and shovels ACQUIRED, hot chocolate cupboard FULL, cleated boots SHARPENED, hotshots warmers STACKED. and then he just- doesn't move. not one iota. absolute pillow princess without any fucking involved. that man is not getting out there, despite the Foxes' wailings of needing a ride, needing groceries, needing a hand. he is ready, doesn't mean he's involved. c'mon, the dude's got multiple plans for a zombie apocalypse, you think a little snow's gonna stop him? yes, actually.

and that's all folks... for now. fuck /yeah/ snow!

#*plucking a flowers petals* i love snow i hate snow i love snow i hate snow #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds

57 notes · View notes

lilap20 · 5 months

Text

Chapter II: The festivities of the Stranger

@koobratzy

@beebeechaos

New chapter released, hope you like it

The festivities in honor of the upcoming male heir continue Princess Nymeria must despite herself attend the joust organized by the King It is said that during this entire joust if Princess Rhaenyra did not take her eyes off her uncle Prince Daemon and the young landless knight Ser Criston Cole, Princess Nymeria never stopped staring at the future Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark.

PRINCESS POV

Caraxes' growl warns me that I won't be able to win it today. I made up my mind when the Red Worm took off and left me there without doing anything. Uncle Daemon was distraught and delighted, laughing with euphoria as I tried everything with Nightmares to come back. But nothing, although the pace slowed down I couldn't catch up.

When my dragon lands with a crash I can sense that he is tired and frustrated at his loss, I am too.

-We are not facing Rhae today. I whisper to him while stroking his scales

He responds by blowing hot air and moving his long head. I laugh lightly as I place my head on his and then let him go into his cave. As I descend the rocks, holding on tight, I see my uncle below waiting for me.

-I thought he ate you. Daemon mocks

-Because we lost? I respond with a playful smile

I jump two feet from my perch and lose my balance slightly when I fall to the firm ground. Daemon comes to help me but I push him away, dusting off my riding clothes.

-You must not be a bad loser, my little adventurer. He said taking me by the shoulders -I'm not, and then one day I'll beat you. -I would like to see that! My uncle exclaims with laughter as he lets go of me

If Rhae seems to have a very playful and quite unusual relationship with Daemon, for me he is like the father I don't have. Viserys doesn't spend a lot of time with us, especially me, I think he sees in me a kind of disappointment sometimes.

-I'm going to have to go prepare for the game, I hope to see you there? » asks Daemon while petting his horse.

I groan in frustration as I tighten my arms around myself, he immediately raises an eyebrow.

-Unfortunately, I have no choice. I respond with a sigh

Daemon places his hand on my head and hugs me briefly before letting go of me and straddling his black stallion.

-It is your duty, even if it frustrates you, you are a Princess, Nymeria.

I huff, giving him a disappointed look as he holds out his hand. I finally catch him and climb behind him while the stallion advances a little below us. I cling to him, tighten my arms around his waist, and we rush towards the palace.

Feeling the wind in my hair, the feeling of freedom and adventure before entering these big walls. Seeing the landscape pass at lightning speed before my eyes and feeling the force of the wind constantly hitting my face.

We arrive at the stables and Daemon gets off first, insisting on helping me get off, I fall with both feet in the mud giving him a smile and a grimace, the mix makes me laugh.

-You may be a beauty but you're really not afraid of anything. He swears when he sees the state of my boots

I don't have time to respond as the sounds of horses alert me, I turn around and move quickly when I see the riders coming quickly towards us. My gaze remains fixed on one of the riders, he is in front of everyone, and stops after having let his companions pass in front of him. When he finally descends my whole body is seized with a slight tremor, Cregan Stark.

He too is not afraid of the mud and jumps in with both feet, gently stroking his horse's hair. He laughs with his friends and when the men notice my uncle and me, they all turn around stunned.

Cregan's gaze paralyzes me, it is not dark it is minnow, one light blue eye and one light brown eye. The color hits me and I can't take my eyes off his. Daemon nudges me and I jump, looking at him disconcerted by his smirk, completely amused by my behavior.

-Princess Nymeria. Greet Cregan with a bow -Lord Cregan Stark. I also greet by bowing my head -Prince Daemon, it is an honor to meet you. Said Cregan with a little smile

Daemon approaches to shake his hand and by the Seven when I see his smile I almost faint. Cregan Stark glances at me with that same smile and my heart speeds up at an unimaginable speed.

-The rumors about your beauty are false Princess I fear. He said while kissing my hand

I immediately raise an eyebrow, intrigued by what he says, while trying to repel the rush of heat he gives me with his kiss on my hand.

-How are they false? I ask, gently squeezing the one he kissed behind my back with my other hand. Her lips are so soft, it should be forbidden.

-You are even more beautiful Princess. Compliment the man

I feel my body heating up and blushing and my eyes lock on to his in a rush of well-being. The future Lord of Winterfell walks away, not without turning twice to look at me, and I don't move, letting him walk away, forgetting everything he said to my uncle after complimenting me.

-My dear niece, you will see your face. Make fun of my uncle Daemon

He takes off his gloves before running his hand through my unkempt hair.

-I will do without a comment, uncle. I scold him -Oh but I have so many. Taunts Daemon mercilessly

Jousting, this game filled with violence that all men and women enjoy, this game which highlights the most courageous as well as the weakest. Seeing his men from noble houses paraded before the eyes of the Crown with the simple aim of impressing and defeating the enemy does not enchant me more than that, especially at this moment when my older sister is still not at my side. sides.

Alicent seems to look for her while my eyes stare at the horny crowd. Talyssa is next to me, her long red hair flowing down her back with a braid holding it. My hair, on the other hand, is gathered in a magnificent updo and a beautiful blue dress in the colors of my mother's house, the Arryns.

-Your sister's absence will be noticed. Tells me Talyssa -I know that, but acting like it worries me will only make the situation worse. I respond without ever looking at her

I glance at Alicent who is constantly looking for Rhaenyra, she comes across him and calmly stops her search, focusing on what is happening further down. Being alarmed because the Princess is not there is not the right solution, you must remain dignified and wait.

My gaze moves across the assembly and stops abruptly on the corner occupied by the Starks. Next to the Lord of Winterfell, the young wolf Cregan Stark looks at the crowd with his frozen gaze. I can't look away, captivated by her beauty, which for some is not very refined like us Targaryens, but has its charm. Her hard features, this rather rustic beauty, her beauty represents the North well.

Suddenly as if he felt my gaze, the young Stark turns around, his mischievous gaze diving into mine, I am surprised that he does not look away, my cheeks heat up as he looks at me without restraint. The sound of cheers stops, the laughter of the Royal family or even Talyssa's words, everything stops, it's just him and me, his eyes on mine. A warmth takes hold of me, my breathing…

-I am really sorry.

My sister's hand disconnects me from Cregan and I turn to her, almost outraged.

-Where were you ? I ask, voice hoarse with emotion as she turns to smile at Alicent

-I was just late, she replies, rolling her eyes, but you Nymeria, you should stop looking at the Nordiens like that.

By the Seven! My cheeks turn as red as my sister's dress.

-But what are you talking about!? I almost exclaimed, I wasn't looking at them.

Beside me Talyssa giggles with a hand over her mouth, I turn to her asking for an explanation but she just shrugs her shoulders. Embarrassed, I look down, which makes my sister laugh.

But our laughter stops when the crowd falls silent when they see the King stand up. My father, King Viserys, speaks with firmness but also with great joy.

-On this day of jousting, I have the honor to announce that Queen Aemma has begun childbirth. May the Seven guide us all on this festive day.

At this announcement, the whole crowd exclaims, clapping and shouting for the Queen. Even though the fear of losing my mother freezes my muscles, my hands move on their own and I applaud with them and with the Court. My eyes no longer know where to rest, and I end up looking down at the arena so as not to meet anyone's gaze.

Arriving in the arena, my uncle Demon looks mechanically towards us, and my sister's hand which rests on my thigh tenses, a smile stretches the wicked lips of my uncle who in a turn of grace mounts his black stallion.

-You were with Daemon? I ask in High Valyrian -I went to encourage him. She answer me in the same language

I couldn't help but give her a sideways glance, showing that I knew very well what she was talking about. Rhaenyra gave me the same look, making us laugh afterwards. “Encourage,” right?

The joust is going rather well, the Baratheon Lords have all been deposed, a certain Criston Cole attracts the attention of my elder, and Uncle Daemon has disarmed Otto Hightower's elder, giving us all a mocking grin.

But even if the joust was beautiful, my gaze did not linger there too much, I could not take my eyes off the Stark clan, especially Cregan Stark, our little meeting this morning remains engraved in my head and is keeps replaying. My gaze is not left blank, the young wolf returns them to me, heating my cheeks even more.

-Princess ?

I turn around as Ser Erryck calls me, letting him approach and crouch down to whisper something in my ear.

-Your shared glances with young Lord Cregan Stark did not go unnoticed. Lord Hand Hightower is watching you.

Alerted, I turn discreetly looking at the Hand of the King who has his eyes fixed on the Starks.

-Thank you very much Ser, I will be more discreet in the future.

With a nod, Ser Erryck stands up, clasping his hands in front of him.

The joust continues and I look towards the Nordiens, I almost jump when I see that Cregan Stark is not there.

-Have you lost your little Lord? Rhae scoffs. -I… -Don't panic, he's downstairs.

Cregan Stark taking part in the joust? I see him getting on a black horse, the same beast as this morning, putting on his helmet and his shield, he then takes his spear. Automatically I shake hands with Talyssa who laughs a little, the idea of him riding doesn't enchant me.

-Ser Erryck?

Once again my knight places one knee on the ground to listen to me.

-Who is Lord Cregan Stark going against? -Against Harwin Strong your highness.

My whole body tenses up hearing his opponent, Harwin Strong is known to be a strong man, I have never seen Cregan fight.

The two move forward then start their horses, I am much more attentive to everything that is happening and scream when Harwin's first blow hits Cregan, the second all starts and my heart is beating as fast as the horses running.

Except this time, Cregan hits a strategic point on Harwin and he falls like a mass to the ground, we all cheer, me first, almost standing up.

My father clears his throat a little to get my attention, and I immediately pull myself together under the laughing gaze of my family.

-A Targaryen encouraging a Stark. Pointed out my uncle Corlys Velaryon

After taking a walk, Cregan approaches the royal cage, he comes to ask for her favor, Rhaenyra has not yet given hers, Alicent on the other hand gave it to Daemon and Rhaenys to her cousin. The only ones missing are my sister and me.

My heart palpitates as he approaches and respectfully extends his pole.

-It would be an honor to continue this joust with your favor Princess Nymeria.

His mischievous gaze gazes into mine and my hands become sweaty and trembling as I take the flower crown. Breathing deeply I get up from my place, straighten my dress, and approach the balcony.

His gaze is intense, he doesn't let me go, and my cheeks heat up when I slide the flower crown onto his spear.

-I wish you good luck my Lord.

He smiles at me, and if my heart were racing it suddenly stops, he is beautiful, it is often said that the beauty of the Targaryens resembles that of the Gods, but I find that his beauty is more incredible than ours.

I smiled back at him, returning to my seat.

Although the continuing tournament of change took place in the royal cage, Otto Hightower and my father stood up, followed by Princess Rhaenys and her husband. She calls her children, and almost all of them leave the balcony, gently, Rhaenyra takes my hand and intertwines our fingers.

I bite my lip so hard it bleeds, tears want to fall but I know I shouldn't, something is going on with our mother. Her and the baby may be in danger.

Finally after a few minutes, Ser Erryck and Ser Harrold call out to Rhaenyra and me, I stand up following my eldest, my gaze turning one last time towards Cregan who is looking at us, I look away and go towards my family.

By the end of the day my mother was dead, Baelon followed a few hours later. Male heir lost, the Lords are panicking, my father is devastated. Rhaenyra cried, I cried, the Kingdom cries again.

Something is hollowing out in my chest, a pain and an emptiness, my mother is gone because of the ambition of men. This desire to have a male heir was killing her from the inside and taking over her. The Seven, the Old Gods of Valyria, took him to rest far from them.

I get up from my bed, gently placing Rhaenyra on one of the multiple cushions that populate my bed, she groans before falling back to sleep.

I have to leave the Palace, between its walls it is far too suffocating. I grab a book, put on my boots and escape through an exit behind my bed. King Maegor's secret passages are drawn in a specific book, few people know them, I have not met anyone within its walls.

When I push the big door, I come across one of the many gardens of the palace, there is no one there so I enter without much fear. The Heart tree welcomes me with its large branches and red leaves. I approach him almost solemnly, tenderly stroking the trunk of the tree.

-Would you like me to sleep under your branches? I ask, walking away from him.

I lie down among the roots opening my book on the North, reading to dry out my pain. Wherever my sister and I walked, condolences and looks of pity greeted us everywhere. Sitting alone in the Heart Tree I feel almost safe, far from the court and its vultures.

I don't see the time spent, immersed in these drawings and writings about the North. The beginnings of the Wall, the Children of the Forest, the Long Night, the mystical worlds that attract my attention, the North is like a detached corner of Westeros hiding secrets and mythology.

Footsteps approach and I jump when I hear voices coming towards me, I don't want to be found here. By the Seven!

I try to hold the book close to me and climb into the branches of the big tree. I don't know how but I manage to do it, pulling myself with my right hand, one foot on a branch to push myself. Once seated, I scratch myself on a branch, my cheek stinging.

-Seven Hells! I swear and the book falls

I don't have time to go back and get my book, so I climb a little higher, lodging myself on a branch in the red leaves. The footsteps and voices get closer, I try to look under my robes, and see with amazement that young Stark is speaking with a lady, both dressed in black. She leaves after a greeting, and I move a little to hide better in the leaves, some fall and I bite my lip so as not to hear my breathing.

-It’s a good choice of reading, are you interested in the North my Lady?

I close my eyes so that it will save me and he won't notice me.

-I can see you in the branches of the tree, can you come down so I can give you your book? Cregan asks in a slightly amused tone.

Sighing and cursing the Seven, I drop down ready to take some damage, but arms support me and stabilize me.

-Princess Nymeria. Said Cregan surprised -Thanks for catching up with me. I thank you relieved

I don't want to leave his arms, much too comfortable in them. But the protocol does not allow me to linger, so I slowly detach myself, savoring the last touches of his skin on my arm and my covered hips.

-I didn't expect to see you, Princess. Bows quickly Cregan -I don't think anyone would expect it, I like to hide in the roots of the tree. -To read ? Cregan asks while looking at the book. -Yes. -The evening ?

We look at each other, his gaze more intense than ever searching my eyes making my cheeks heat up, I look away a little, turning towards the trunk of the tree.

-There is no one in the garden in the evening, I am at peace, I was looking for peace.

With silence Cregan attracts my attention by handing me the book he whispers:

-My condolences Princess, the Queen was good and loving.

The emotions inside me twisted my guts, Cregan's sentence triggered a sob in my throat. Cregan notices this and gently caresses my hands as the book is held between us.

-Thank you Lor… -Cregan, called me Cregan.

I raise my wet gaze to him, my heart pounding and racing in my chest.

-Thank you, thank you, Cregan.

#cregan x you #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #cregan fanfiction #daemon x rhaenyra #original female character #cregan stark #fanfiction house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #cregan smut #cregan x reader #hbo #imagine cregan stark #romance #fanfiction fire and blood #original female character house of the dragon

40 notes · View notes