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sawyerconfort · 1 year ago
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songbird | misty day x reader
 Well, here I am, writing and opening the imagines for American Horror Story: Coven over here.
I was dying to write something to post here again and this one came to mind because firstly I love Misty and she deserves all the love in this world and secondly because I love this song, I love Fleetwood Mac and I love Christine McVie forever.
I hope you like it anyway.
There are open requests and a list of prompts if you want, just click here!
Enjoy!
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Prompt: You go through the same problem as your older brother: the fact that you fell in love with a witch. But Misty is different, and will show you that love is not wrong, even with tragic fates awaiting you.
* * *
Fate couldn't be crueler to you.
It was hard to look at her and know that the two of you would possibly have little time to enjoy each other's company, or that you would have to kill her soon, or that it would hurt her. And mostly it was even harder to admit to yourself that you loved her and that you didn't want to lose her.
It hurt to look at Misty and know you would have to do this. You would have to end it without asking permission or changing the fate of the thing. Either way, she'd come back to life, and you'd need to stay far enough away that you never cross paths with her again, avoiding the guilt and pain that would come later.
It was an easier task for Hank, that was for sure. Your brother was the husband of a witch - Cordelia Goode, the daughter of the Supreme - and he seemed to be fine with the fact that one day he would have to watch her bleed. But he was older, had more experience, and had stronger blood than you.
Every night, you found yourself dreaming of the ultimate moment. You'd barely close your eyes and wake up sweating with flashes of a dagger being plunged into Misty's chest, or a silver bullet going through her chest. And she woke up when she saw you having nightmares, and you had to hide your discomfort, leave the cabin in the swamp and drink water far away so as not to prolong the conversation.
That would kill you first then her.
And the worst part is that your girlfriend didn't suspect anything.
* * *
There you were, training, devising new strategies so you wouldn't have to suffer in completing your mission, internally fighting your desire to end it all and the desire to burst into tears, knowing your father would never forgive you for it.
“Hey, cutie...”
You heard Misty's voice and, in fright, you hit one of the professional darts in the target, causing a hole bigger than it should have been. You turned to her and gulped as your dream passed like a gust of wind in front of you and brought the painful sight of her clutching her chest to her eyes.
“Are you all right? You're a little pale... Haven't you had your morning sun today, my love?”, she asked, showing the concern that took over when she was near you, and that left your heart completely melted.
“I'm fine,” you insisted. “What do you need, Misty?”
Cover-up. Don't feel. She can't guess. Her powers aren't that great yet.
“Oh yes, I came because… I found something out there and I wanted you to explain it to me,” she said, taking you by surprise. In her hand was a dagger, your dagger, and you swallowed harder. “You haven't been killing animals to eat the meat, have you? You know I don't like that..."
"No, I..."
You realized that your vision was getting blurred, that you were about to pass out and you sat down - or rather threw yourself - on the ground. Misty knelt next, those eyes you loved that were north of you staring at you with all the love in the world.
“You can trust me, (Y\NN), I swear, I won't judge you,” she whispered.
"I'm... I..."
“You're one of them, right? One of the hunters that occasionally shows up here to kill witches and the others...”, she replied, her voice low, deciphering everything. “Yeah, I knew it. From the beginning, I was just waiting for you to tell me.”
You looked at her in disbelief and her eyes lit up because she was smiling and you were crying. Misty didn't seem mad or disappointed in you at all. You couldn't decipher what that look and that smile meant.
"Did you knew? How did you knew?"
“Your dreams,” she said. "You didn't know it, but you talk in your sleep, and without meaning to, I end up hearing you calling my name and begging me to forgive you, or screaming... It's not on purpose, I swear, it's just... inevitable."
You were speechless. Looking at your girlfriend and getting that beautiful, generous look in return, you'd wonder how you managed to get so lucky. There was nothing that could change the fact that you loved Misty one way or another, not even your family.
“But hey, can you listen to me for a minute, honey?” she continued whispering, sitting down next to you and using her hand to hold yours. “It's okay, you don't have to feel guilty about this, okay?”
You did not answer. You couldn't find the words to say.
“I suppose the size of your pain, I imagine how difficult it must have been for you to deal with all of this, I can understand, even though I don't feel it. But you must know that nothing, nothing, and no one in this world will be able to change what I feel for you. The love, the care, the affection, the desire I feel for you...”, she smiled. “And you know, deep inside you, that you don't want to do that. And that you won't do it.”
She slowly ran her fingers through yours and smiled sadly.
“I love you, (Y\NN), and I just need you to know that, no matter what happens between us,” she kept saying. “I promise with all my heart that I will make an effort and I will do my best to be by your side and help you get through this whole idea. You are not a failure just for having feelings and not being able to do what your family does, you know that, right?”
You looked at her. “Misty...”
“I promise, with all my heart, my love. I promise that starting with today, you won't have to go through this anymore if you don't want to. And it won't be wrong, ever, because I'll be here by your side, and I'll love you until the last beat of my heart. If need be, I'll give you the world, to make up for the weight of all this burden. But you're not alone and you never will be, do you hear me?"
She brought your faces close and kissed you tenderly, brushing a strand of hair from your face and cupping your cheek reflexively, resting her hand there.
“I forgive you, my love. I forgive you because you are different from them”, she whispered. “You would never hurt me, I know that. And I won't let anyone hurt you either, not even me. You deserve all the love in the world, all the support, and all the validation, and I'm here to give you that and more.”
You smiled and kissed her once more, sniffling. Misty wiped away some of your tears and smiled the same smile as always, biting her lip and squeezing the hand that was still holding yours.
“Thank you, Misty. I promise I won't try anything against you. I promise from the heart.”
She laughed. “Okay, okay, cutie, I believe you, is that okay?”, you nodded and kissed her again. As you pulled away, Misty looked at you and away. “But now, please let me get rid of that awful pallor of yours, babe. Let's get some morning sun and take the opportunity to visit my garden halfway through. We have some beauties to water and ressurrect.”
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dreamypqulson · 2 years ago
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— small steps but i’m still moving
requested by @lanawinters-ily: Delia misses her greenhouse but it's too dangerous, so reader takes her in as a surprise date! all the sensory of the plants, Fleetwood Mac vinyls (maybe ft misty???) & making natural remedies together!!
pairing: blind!cordelia x reader (featured misty)
word count: 1800
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It was no secret that Cordelia had been having a rough time lately. The isolation in her room, the increased temper, and the long night sobs. You were there for her, you held her, but you could not spend another night watching her fall apart. You needed to fix this, needed to glue every shattered piece of her back together.
She needed something in her life to look forward to again. She had you, and she could argue that that was enough for her, but she needed something that she could get lost in for hours even with her vision gone.
Once she lost that, she lost her greenhouse too. It was far too dangerous when she couldn't even see. So much glass, fragile things, chemicals. You were afraid of her getting hurt, and she was afraid that one little wrong thing in her perfect greenhouse would absolutely break her.
But you knew that the greenhouse was one of the only things she had. She was upper class yet she didn't have too much to her name. Not a mother or father who loves her, not too many friends, and not even a child that she could conceive. It was heartbreaking to watch. You needed to bring Cordelia to life again in the only way you knew how.
It was a late afternoon when you found Cordelia laying in bed, cuddling close to your pillow. You had been out picking things up for the academy at the store, leaving Cordelia alone here. You offered for her to come along, but no matter what you said, she wouldn't budge. She was too ashamed to go out in public feeling like an absolute mess. You knew she wasn't one.
Even with the door open and it being the room you shared, you knocked against the white wooden door. You didn't want to frighten her with your sudden presence.
She rolled over to face you in bed, even if she couldn't see, she did it as a sign of respect. "It's me, baby. I'm home," you said softly and walked towards the bed. You sat on the edge and pushed golden blonde hair out of her face. She trusted you so much, even at her most vulnerable.
"What's got you looking all down, Delia?" You leaned down and bumped your nose against her, kissing her on her lips right after.
She huffed when you pulled away, but you grabbed her hand and held it so she could still feel you. "I hate wasting away in bed all day." You could hear it in her voice that she wanted to cry, but she didn't. She made sure to only let the annoyance show.
"Well lucky you, sweet love, i'm taking you somewhere special." You leaned down again and kissed her forehead, and then her nose that she scrunched up. You yearned to lend her your vision so that she could see how pretty she is.
She threw her head back further into her pillow and a groan elicited from her lips. "Y/n, you know I don't want to be in public right now."
"It's not in public, darling. It's in the backyard. Don't worry your pretty little head." You smiled, and you knew that she could sense it because she mimicked your expression. Her cheeks turned an awfully bright shade of red at the term of endearment.
She still wasn't too satisfied with this idea just yet, but she let you guide her up out of bed anyways. She stood there while you helped her into a light sweater. She was still so independent even after her incident, but you were slowly teaching her how to let go. And she didn't mind it too much, not when it was you that was taking care of her.
You held on to her hand and your other arm was around her waist. She could obviously walk herself, but you wanted her to feel every ounce of love and safety from you that she could. You wanted to make her inner child happy: that child who just wanted to be loved and cared for.
The journey down the stairs was not too difficult. She was adapting to this lifestyle fairly well. Better than most people would.
A cool breeze blew your hair and light clothes in every direction. New Orleans was warm for the most part but never failed to cool you down with an evening breeze. You led her towards the way back and finally let go of her to dig through your pocket for the key.
She could hear a lock rattling and it had given her a strong inkling of where you were taking her. She could not contain the delicate grin on her face. You went to unlock the door only to find out that it was already unlocked. You knew who must be inside and so you opened the door and guided your lovely girlfriend through.
A soft melody of Fleetwood Mac and soft humming echoed against the four walls. Blonde curly hair was the first you were to see until the woman turned around with a bright smile on her face.
Misty was a new student at Robichaux. She was a sweet woman and an amazing witch. She meshed with you and Cordelia just perfectly. You two were very found of the swamp witch. She was different than the other witches.
Nevertheless, Cordelia gripped on tightly to your shirt. She was still unaware of her surroundings despite the obvious clues. You couldn't blame her for being so anxious after being cooped up in her room and not being able to see on top of that.
"Hey, darlin's. Long time no see," Misty finally spoke. She walked over to the record player and lowered the music.
Cordelia finally loosened up at the voice. She was safe here. "The greenhouse?" The soft older blonde whispered. It wasn't a question; she knew where she was. She wanted to simply recognize your thoughtfulness of bringing her out here.
"I know you love it in here, honey. I wanted to bring you out here to cheer you up." Despite the smile on her face, her bottom lip trembled; a tell tale sign that she was becoming emotional. "...I'm guessing that means you're happy?"
She airily giggled at you. Her hands came up to your face, feeling around until she found your lips to lean in and kiss. "Thank you. I love you." She whispered against your lips for only you to hear.
"I love you, baby. To the moon and to saturn." Her smile only got bigger, and you stared lovingly at her to cherish the moment until you eventually turned back over to Misty.
With your hand still in Cordelia's, you walked over to the cajun at the work table with her. You watched as Misty went to work crafting some sort of potion. "What are you up to, Miss Day?"
She adverting her blue eyes to you and smirked. You and Cordelia had became very close and comfortable with Misty and you were so pleased to know that the feelings were completely reciprocated. "Just workin' on some sleeping potions."
She looked back down to grind chamomile in the mortar. You gently nudged Cordelia's arm, and if she could see, you would've winked at her too. She had been having trouble sleeping as of lately with high emotions and lots of anxiety.
Cordelia nudged you right back but she had a playful grin on her face. You took her hand and brought her over to flowers that were in need of water. To most, it would feel like a chore to water them, but Cordelia found serenity in it. "Here, baby, want to water some of these?"
She knew the greenhouse off the back of her hand and so she knew what she was looking at without actually seeing anything. Nevertheless, she refused to take the watering-can that you handed her. "I'm just going to spill water everywhere like a fool," she whined and crossed her arms to her chest. She didn't have much confidence in herself.
"Nu-uh, none of that. I'll help you. We'll do it together, alright?" She sighed but still took the can from you. You stood behind her and wrapped your arms around her body, holding your hands atop of hers that gripped onto the watering can.
You both guided the can over the flowers and tilted it so the water would pour out. You saw a soft smile grace her lips and so you kissed her cheek after every group of flowers that got a drink of water. You were so proud of her for even trying in the first place.
You took the can of water and put it back in it's spot. Cordelia's senses were on high alert due to her inability to see. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of daisies that were very strong to her.
Cordelia took a seat on one of the wooden benches. You, on the other hand, walked over to her roses that she had been growing. She never truly liked roses until she met you. They resembled love and romance; something she never truly had until you.
You plucked one out and patted back over to your lover. You sat beside her and placed another kiss on her cheek because you just couldn't get enough of her. She turned her head just in time for you to miss and kiss her lips instead. You both giggled at the mishap.
"This is for you, my love." She took the single rose from you. Although she couldn't see it, she still trusted that you wouldn't hand her anything dangerous. "I'm so proud of you for coming out here today. You're the most strongest woman in the world, you know that, Delia?"
She scooted closer to you and relaxed her head on your shoulder. She had to admit that the fresh air in here was much more soothing than the stuffy bedroom. "Mm not all the time but you make me feel strong. I'm so lucky to have you otherwise i'm sure I would wallow away in bed. Thank you for this."
"Anything for my gorgeous girl."
It was a small step, but she was still moving forward. You knew the next step would be to go out in public, even for a simple walk in the park. She could do it, you knew she could, and she knew that too. It was like learning to walk again; as long as you were holding her hand, she would stay on her feet.
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bluerthanvelvet444 · 8 months ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚𝙿𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Frat boy Kyle Spencer x fem!reader
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tags: slight angst, fluffy smut!
warnings: swearing, public sex, mentions of Kyle's abuse (poor baby), handjob, p in v.
summary: frat boy kyle being a sweetheart. that's all i have to say.
character count: 11k.
full fic under the cut ↓
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“I'm not going.” You replied, your voice firm and your eyes fixated on the math book that sat on the library's desk, trying to avoid the gaze-that you knew you couldn't resist-of the boy sitting in front of you. You heard him sigh as his doe eyes desperately tried to meet yours.
“But everyone is going…you can't miss it.” Kyle replied with his soft voice.
“I've never gone to any of those parties…why do you want me to go to this one so badly?” You spoke, with a noticeable hint of frustration in your voice.
“Because it's the end of the semester…something to celebrate. Plus, it's gonna be epic.” He said with a toothy smile plastered on his face.
“No, thanks. You know I don't roll with those frat boys.” You rolled your eyes, your words coming out harsh and spiteful.
“I'm a frat boy.” He said, raising an eyebrow, clearly confused by your statement.
“Yea- but you're…different.” You sighed.
It was true. He was indeed different from the frat boys he was friends with. You and Kyle met in Junior year of high school. You were paired up by your physics teacher, who suggested you could tutor Kyle, that at the time had terrible grades. You two clicked instantly, he was fun and outgoing, and you enjoyed spending time with him. Kyle had grown to be incredibly thankful for your help, in fact, he insisted that you were the one who made him passionate about physics, the subject that he used to despise and that now was his main department in college. Although he could seem like the usual asshole frat boy, Kyle was sweet and caring. You knew it, and no one could’ve made you change your mind on that. He was simply a sweetheart.
“Listen, I know my mates may seem rude or not well-behaved…but trust me, as a leader, I established some rules for them. They won’t act crazy, I promise.” His kind voice brought you back from your thoughts. You sighed, thinking about it.
“Brennan’s hosting the party in his summer mansion…it’s next to the beach- it’s so cool, I swear. I-I’ll take you there! I can pick you up and take you home…” He added, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Please?” He said in an adorable voice, his puppy eyes looking hopeful into yours.
You sighed, you didn’t wanna go, but it was utterly impossible to say no to him.
“Fine.”
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You were touching up your makeup. You were ready for the “big night” Kyle was so excited about. You decided to wear something a bit more revealing, a black minidress, because-okay, you didn’t wanna go- but you couldn’t be annoyed and unfashionable all at once.
While taking a final look in the mirror, you heard a knock on your door. You grabbed your bag and opened the door to see Kyle-in his usual frat sweater-smiling at you. He looked at you up and down, scaring you slightly. What if he didn’t like the dress or how it looked on you?
Fortunately, all your concerns faded once you saw his smile widening.
“Woah…you look beautiful. Seriously…you’re stunning.” He said, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, he wasn’t used to seeing you like this.
You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliments.
“Thank you…” You gave him an awkward smile and bit your lip.
“Shall we get going?” You suggested, to which he nodded. He took your hand and helped you step down the porch. Kyle led you to his car, and opened the door for you with a cute grin.
The ride was calm, you chit-chatted here and there about random stuff, and you swore you saw him staring at your body a few times. After 15 minutes or so, you eventually arrived at the party. Kyle was right, the mansion was beautiful and it faced the sea. You could see lights and music blasting out of the house. He gave you an excited grin and helped you out of the car, walking with you inside the house. It was overflowing with people laughing, playing games and having fun. As much as it seems hard to believe, you didn’t know anyone of those many people. They had familiar faces, sure, but you couldn’t consider them your actual friends. You sighed and nervously looked at Kyle who, on the other side, was flashing smiles to all his fellow frat brothers and friends. You noticed how comfortable he was in his habitat, and how you envied him for that. He introduced you to many people-whom you couldn’t even remember the names of-that obviously didn’t care much about getting to know you, since they even could’ve sworn you did not go to that college. You were invisible even when the attention was on you, and Kyle clearly didn’t catch that. So when he was dragged by his mates to some kind of game, he told you with a chuckle and a rushed tone
“I-I’ll be right back! Chat with the girls, they’re fun!”
Fun. Right. You didn't mean to sound like an antisocial bitch, but they were everything but fun. You saw them from afar just taking pictures of each other-to show on Instagram how much fun they were pretending to have having-or teasing each other about their crushes. You felt bored, so you sat on a chair, sipping a cup of-what you hoped was-punch and waited for Kyle. Time passed, and he didn’t show up, so you got up and started searching for him. It didn’t take you much to find him. Kyle was on the karaoke stage, singing “Rosanna” by Toto.
“Meetcha all the way! Nananaaaaah…” He “singed” while laughing with his mates.
You were conflicted on what to do now. You didn’t want to be a bummer by clinging to him all night, but you were truly bored and felt lonely. So, you did what you believed was best for everyone, you grabbed your stuff and left. The moment you stepped outside, you were met by an unfamiliar feeling of peace, the view surprising you for its beauty and for being so…empty. It was quiet, the only sound that could be heard were the waves splashing against the sand, no people around. You smiled and made your way to the pier nearby. You sat on it and took your shoes off, allowing your feet to sink in the water.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you were brought back to reality when you felt Kyle's voice behind you.
“Here you are! I searched for you everywhere!” He was breathing fast, you believed he had been running while seeking for you.
“I thought I left you a message?” You tilted your head.
“Oh… Sorry. I can’t find my phone. Why are you all alone here? The whole fun is inside!” He replied with a giant boyish smile.
“I like it better here. It’s boring inside.” You turned your face to look at the sea again.
“What? How can you call it boring? There are plenty of games! And people inside-” you cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“Kyle, I hate to break it to you, but I’m not popular like you. The people inside couldn’t care less about me. I feel less lonely here than in that crowded house.”
He looked at you confused.
“Aw, c’mon…don’t be like this. They’re nice people, you just have to make an effort to try to meet them, and I’m sure you’ll have fun.” You didn’t know why those words started a fire in you.
“They’re not my friends, Kyle. I can’t stand those people, I don’t get along with them. And trust me, I’ve tried to be social and friendly, but you may have to consider the idea that not everyone is like you. You’re easygoing and social, you're a freaking frat boy for fuck’s sake. It’s easy for you to say those things.”
He looked at you, mouth agape at your sudden outburst.
“…why didn’t you just tell me?” He looked at you like a sad puppy for bringing you somewhere that made you uncomfortable.
“And be more of a bummer? No, thanks. They already hate me, I don't wanna be a party pooper as well.” You crossed your arms.
He sat next to you on the pier and his fingers gently grazed your jaw to make you look at him.
“You’re not a bummer to me…a-and I’m sorry about that… I shouldn’t have left you alone. Sorry.”
You wanted to be mad at him, truly, but those cute brown eyes melted your heart in every way possible. You bit your lip as you admired him lovingly. He was so caring and sweet, how did you manage to get this lucky?
“I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, I- that’s the last thing I’d ever want. You know I care about you… I can’t stand you being mad at me. Please, forgive me?”
You felt your heart tighten at those words. You gave him a slight nod as your eyes travelled down his lips. You wanted to kiss him so badly, and he probably caught onto that, since he slowly leaned in to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away slightly, mumbling against your lips.
“Was that okay?” You nodded, and he leaned in again, kissing you once more. This time he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slip in your mouth and softly swirling it around yours. You let out a breath at how right that felt and how sweet he was being. You pulled him slightly closer and moved your hand to rest on his neck and caress the skin of it. After a bit, you moved your lips to peck his jaw a few times before trailing them down on his neck. Your lips worked sweetly on his skin at first, earning a few sighs from him. As the tension grew, you started sucking his neck, leaving red marks. He groaned and grabbed your waist, you subtly moved your hand down to massage the bulge from his pants. He let out a tiny gasp, and you felt him stiffen, not in a good way. You looked up at him with a confused expression.
“I-I’m sorry…please keep going…” He said with a nervous smile.
“What’s wrong? Did you not like that? It’s okay if you don’t want to…” You gave him a comprehensive look.
“No! I like that… I swear. Just…bad memories.”
“Do you wanna talk about it…?”
“No, I just wanna feel good now.”
You nodded and gave him a gentle peck on his lips before gently undoing his zipper. You ran your fingers over the visible shape of his dick through his underwear, earning a groan from him. You looked at him for consent before gently pulling his boxers down. You blushed as you saw him so vulnerable for the first time. Your fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking him slowly. He let out a breathy moan.
“G-god…don’t stop…”
You smiled and started progressively speeding up. After a few minutes, you heard his moans grow louder, and you felt his strong hand gripping your wrist.
“I…wanna do it. Is that okay?”
You nodded, and he sat up to gently remove your dress and everything underneath. He was stunned by your body, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He helped you lay down, with a massive gentleness, as if you were capable of breaking if handled too roughly. He hovered on top of you, caressing your face as he lined up your entrance with his dick.
“This okay?” He muttered under his breath, to which you answered with a nod. He gently pushed into you, allowing you to adjust to the new feeling. He groaned when he pushed himself all the way in. He held your hand sweetly.
“Can I start moving?”
“Mhm…”
He slowly started thrusting in you, earning moans from you both. He gripped your hand tighter as he felt how your walls clenched around him. When he felt like you were ready, he started going faster, gripping your hand tightly and kissing you repeatedly through the whole thing. You could've sworn you were seeing stars when he started hitting your G-spot with his tip. Soon enough, your moans got louder and you felt yourself coming on his dick. He tried his best to contain his moans and as soon as you finished he pulled out to come on your tummy. He collapsed onto you, pecking your face repeatedly.
“I love you…” He mumbled.
After some time had passed, he got up and cleaned you with the salty water, giggling like a teen boy receiving his first kiss. When he helped you gain your-and his-decency again, he got up, throwing an arm around you and walking happily towards his car.
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a/n: I love Kyle he's so babygirllll. also look at the cute picture i found on pinterest (the one under the title) that boy looks so much like kyle. got me screaming when I saw it. Anywaysssssss. I might post a part 2 of this with frankenkyle, but I gotta finish Peter fics first (spoiler). Let me know if you like it💕💕
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evvyyypeters-fics · 1 month ago
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“She’s got a way. She got away”
Misty Day x f!reader
Warnings! Angst, maybe cringe writing idk, short, not proofread rlly, hopefully not ooc
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Been obsessed w/ Subway by Chappell Roan (needs to be released ASAP PLS CHAPPELL PLS) so I decided to write Misty angst. This is probably gonna flop like my other angst but it’s ok
Misty Day fic also requested by @urlittlelisb0ngirl sorry
Required listening (I’m not responsible for your tears)
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Lily of the Valley. Was that it? Or maybe it was Jasmine. That scent that always lingered on you.
I think I smelled it again, on a girl with your hair that walked past me today.
It’s like a sign, because I swear I could smell you on her. A reminder that there will be a fragment of you in my mind. The memories of us on the pier are fading, just like the ones of us eating ice cream on the ferris wheel–the first time you had ever been to an amusement park. It was also our first date. Do you still remember it?
I don’t.
The look on your face is blurred. Were you smiling? Did you even look at me? Did you drip ice cream on your blouse? Were we laughing? What time of day was it?
It’s all a blur to me now. I guess that’s a blessing and a curse, because as the memories fade, so does the pain. But as the pain fades, so do the feelings I had for you. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to let go, but at this rate it’s inevitable. Are you ready to move on? Is that what you really wanted?
I think about you a lot, and I can keep holding onto the memories as long as I want, but I still watch them as they slip past my fingers. I wonder the most–if you still think about me? Do you regret it? Have you found someone else? Where was it that you ran away to again? Saskatchewan? You really were always a country girl at heart, weren’t you? If only I knew your new address, maybe I’d show up on your doorstep with a charming bouquet of flowers, maybe a boombox over my head and playing your favorite Stevie Nicks song.
I still have your jar of swamp mud you gifted me for my birthday, you told me it didn’t mean anything, that it was “just good wishes”. But I know how much it really means to you, and I can still remember the faint feeling of a burning in my chest from the way you gazed at me, and the way your fingers whispered over mine as you placed the jar between them.
If you asked me if this is what I wanted too, I don’t think I’d have an answer. I’d say “It’s complicated” and either way, it’d end the same as it always does. Sometimes I think I see you, when I’m in large crowds. Usually by the subway. I’ll see a blurry image of your face, maybe a familiar feeling of a smile on someone else, or the sound of your voice walking by. But of course, it never is. It almost drives me mad how your shadow follows me, even in the dark of the night. As if the stars are the twinkle of your eyes. I can’t escape your gaze, even when I can’t remember it.
The warmth and radiance of your presence haunts me. There was something about the way you carried yourself everyday, a true angel. I guess that’s why you were so unreachable. You were made from heaven, and I was born in hell.
On that fateful day, when the it came down to the last page in our story, you said to me:
“I don’t think this is where I’m meant to be. I’m not ready. I’m not ready for whatever this is.”
Well, I don’t think this is where I’m meant to be either. I’m not ready to give up on what we had yet, and it’s the worst torture to experience. At least I still remember the feeling that was loving you. But as the image of you in the corner of my eye becomes dark and darker, I’m starting to think this was how it was always meant to be.
Misty Day, you truly have a way. If only you didn’t get away.
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scarletcomalies · 1 year ago
Note
I have been obsessed with Sister Mary Eunice lately maybe you could write about reader and Sister Mary Eunice being childhood friends and then they met again and she is already practicing being a nun or sum'n. Forbidden love of sort?
rise of devotion
Sister Mary Eunice x Reader
Word count: 7,565
A/N: AAAHHH! Thank you for your request! I have always looked forward to write something related to my beloved Lily Rabe 💘 Sorry it took so long.
A/N II: I would like to clarify that I wrote this based 100% on the approach given to the concept of the "Devil" in AHS: Asylum. Therefore, my interpretations are purely for fictional purposes. Personally, I don't believe in a "devil" or a "God," but I do believe in the existence of various positive and negative forces that affect our world in mysterious ways, so I also wanted to offer that possibility in the story.
Warnings: Irreverence, mention of caning, devil possession, humiliation, exorcism, happy ending though!
Upon an unexpected reencounter, you and Sister Mary Eunice develop a forbidden connection.
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By choosing to study psychiatry, you embarked on a path that definitely contradicted long-standing religious doctrines. People who used to greet you cheerfully and welcome you into their homes for a cup of tea now whispered and gave you disapproving looks, for your choice to delve into the complexities of the human mind through scientific standpoint was seen as a direct challenge to their faith-based understanding of mental health.
And above all, even your own family wondered why did you turn your back on God and defy the plans they had for you? You were supposed to find a good husband, get married and devote yourself to being the best housewife you could be... or else become a nun to serve God for the rest of your days.
In spite of everything, the town of Framingham was your home. You couldn't deny that it had its charm, such as Mr. and Mrs. Bowery's coffee shop, where you were served multiple cups of chocolate while the couple watched you spend countless hours at the same table, reading exaggeratedly thick books. Or, visiting the home of the few friends you counted on, those friends who also swam against the current and somehow it seemed like it was them and you against the world.
You always believed that the only opposition you were willing to put up with, would come from your own family. You assumed that when it came to matters of the heart, you would naturally be drawn to someone who shared your ideals, if not surpassed them. Little did you know that one day, you would reencounter a person who was your polar opposite.
As you sat in the coffee shop's tables, you submerged yourself in the pages of the DSM-I. If it wasn't because you took a pause to take another sip of your chocolate, you wouldn't have noticed someone's intense gaze fixed upon you. It was as if the weight of their stare could pierce through your very being. Initially, you dismissed it and continued reading, attempting to brush off the discomfort that grew within you.
But then, the line was crossed when the person who had been observing you boldly decided to approach you.
"We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ. 2 Corinthians 10:5," her raspy voice came through.
"So nice that your faith provides solace and guidance for you," you replied, without even looking up.
"The Lord undertakes to save all those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18 says so," she insisted.
"I'm of the idea that science doesn't always have to fight with religion, but if you consider my field a threat to your unsubstantiated beliefs, I suggest you keep it to yourself, and don't bother me," you countered, and without being able to prevent it, you could notice yourself adopting a tone of irritation.
"You're neglecting the power of prayer and the healing it can bring to troubled souls. God's love is boundless, and it can provide true salvation," she replied.
The persistence of the woman who kept on imposing her religious views started to wear thin on your patience, so you closed your book and looked up in her direction, intending to firmly demand her to leave you alone.
Your eyes were first drawn to her attire, the unmistakable indication that she was a nun. It pretty much explained her intrusion. However, when your eyes locked with hers, your breath seemed to be caught in your chest.
Never before had you encountered eyes so captivatingly blue, and the perfect contrast of her golden hair, slightly peeking out from beneath her habit, and those lips, full and adorned with a delicate shade of pink. In that fleeting moment, your frustration and impatience were momentarily forgotten, overpowered by the undeniable attraction that she had awakened.
"You always reproached your parents for taking you to church, and you were never satisfied with God-related explanations in the face of certain phenomena," she commented, this time with a smile adorning her face. "I should have known you would end up like this, (Y/N)."
You frowned for a moment, but then, your eyes widened as you realized who was standing in front of you.
"Mary Eunice!" You exclaimed, nostalgia and disbelief evident in your tone.
Her smile grew wider as she heard you call out her name in recognition. The memories of your childhood friendship replayed back in your mind.
"It's been such a long time," she breathed out. "The last I heard, you had left town, and it's been..."
"Eight long years," you interjected, a proud smile forming on your lips. "I returned just a week ago. The welcoming nature from people was quite interesting, to say the least. But yours wins the first place," you added, subtly alluding to the judgment you were a victim of ever since you arrived, including hers.
"Well, I had to surprise you in a way," she shrugged.
"A 'hello' would have worked. That's the traditional way to approach someone," you replied, and gestured for her to sit in the chair across from you.
"Look who's talking about tradition," she laughed, sitting down across from you.
You raised your arms, letting her know she had caught you there, "Guilty."
She let out a laugh, and you found yourself immersed in appreciating how her nose wrinkled and lovely dimples formed in her cheeks. Old feelings were rising from within your heart, as if time had never passed for neither of you.
You immediately recalled a time where you were still a child, and innocently seeking guidance, you turned to your parents, questioning why you couldn't marry your best friend Mary Eunice when you both grew up.
Their response, explaining that marriage was based on mutual attraction and love between a man and a woman, only increased your confusion, which was eventually clarified during your teenage and adult years, filled with discovery and a long journey of acceptance.
To your young heart, the idea of loving someone simply due to a deep connection and admiration seemed perfectly natural. The limitations imposed on love perplexed you then, and even as an adult, the question lingered in your mind. Why should societal expectations dictate who you can and cannot love?
"I came to this place with the intention of finding you," she confessed, after going over in her mind how to tell you. "It took asking a few people, and they all said there was a high probability you were here."
As much as you wanted to avoid it, a blush formed on your cheeks, extremely flattered at the idea that Mary Eunice intended to meet you again.
"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Bowery really know how to make a place cozy," you agreed, laughing lightly. "Any particular reason?"
She shook her head, "My father passed away a few months ago. When I went to visit my home, my mother and I looked through old pictures, and there were several ones of me and you. It made me realize how much our friendship meant to me back then," she continued, taking a deep breath as she looked at me with her blue eyes filled with nostalgia. "When I heard you returned and opened your practice here, I felt... like it was a sign from our Lord."
You were transported back to the early years of your childhood. Mary Eunice, the girl who moved into the house across the street when you were only five years old. Your parents visited her family's new home, and she eagerly invited you to show you her enchanting dollhouse. As simple as that, a friendship blossomed for six years.
Sooner or later, life would lead you down different ways, as Mary Eunice's family relocated to the other end of town, and in consequence, the distance between you grew both geographically and emotionally, for her parents decided you were not a good influence on her, therefore you were forbidden to visit her.
The once-unbreakable bond began to fade into a distant memory, until she decided to tease you with Bible verses in a coffee shop when you were all grown up with very different chosen life paths.
"I'm glad you sought me out," you admitted sincerely. "I'm sorry for your loss. If you ever need to share your feelings, I'll be more than happy to offer you a shoulder to cry on."
"Thank you. Your kindness means more to me than words can express. I have found strength in prayer during these difficult times, and God has listened to me," a smile softly graced her lips, as her eyes brightened in appreciation.
Even if you didn't share the same strong beliefs as Mary Eunice, you always respected the power of faith and how it could provide comfort in certain individuals during times of hardship. If her faith in God gave her strength and helped her cope better with the unavoidable adversities of life, then you were glad she had that refuge.
You placed your hand over hers and you offered a reassuring squeeze, a silent gesture of understanding and support.
As your conversation continued, one piece at a time, you and Mary Eunice shared every detail of your lives, starting at age eleven, when circumstances forced you apart. You listened closely to her describe her journey as a nun, as it was the aspect of her life that made her the most proud.
"I felt a calling deep within my heart, urging me to dedicate my life to serving others and living a life of devotion. I knew becoming a nun was my path to fulfill that calling," she took a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. "After much contemplation and prayer, I joined the order and then, the path led me to Briarcliff Manor, where I believed I could offer hope and healing to those in need."
"It's truly remarkable," you found yourself saying, your admiration towards her palpable in every syllable. "To have such a deep calling and to summon the courage to follow it through. It takes a lot of strength."
***
"Science cannot explain the evil that resides in this patient's soul. You're chasing shadows and ignoring the true path to salvation," Sister Jude retorted, throwing the patient's files at you in a dismissive manner.
It would have taken much less than that for you to grab your things and leave, except that Mary Eunice gave you a look that completely melted you. A look that denoted all the hope she had for you.
Two months had passed since your reunion with Mary Eunice. From time to time, you both would meet in the park or take walks around town. It wasn't until a week ago that she asked you to visit Briarcliff Manor to examine a patient who was clearly showing signs of schizophrenia.
There were many people with various conditions, of course, but this one, specifically, had to be put in solitary confinement after assaulting a guard.
"Um, excuse me, Sister Jude, but Dr. (Y/L/N) has, uh, dedicated to the study of the human mind," Mary Eunice interjected. "We may have different perspectives, but we share the commitment to helping others."
Both you and Sister Jude made no effort to hide your puzzlement. Mary Eunice was not the type to contradict others, much less someone as imposing as Jude Martin. You could only hope she didn't get caning after that.
Because you knew, no matter how much your dear friend wanted to hide it.
"Sister Mary, don't be fooled by this world of sin and deception," Jude responded as soon as she recomposed herself. "Your duty is to God, and so is mine. We must protect this institution from outside influences," she gave you another contemptuous glance, which caused you to roll your eyes.
"I understand, Sister Jude, but I also believe that God works in mysterious ways," Mary Eunice said, as if she had expected Jude’s response and had rehearsed her answer beforehand. "Perhaps Dr. (Y/L/N) was brought here for, uh, a reason. Let us not dismiss the possibility of divine guidance."
Sister Jude's expression softened, for the very first time ever, and she sighed.
"Remember, Dr. (Y/L/N), don't let your scientific pursuits lead you astray from the path of righteousness," she established, and headed to leave the room.
You smiled in amazement, and Mary Eunice mimicked your action, then let out a satisfied laugh. That allowed you to appreciate her beautiful dimples that added even more charm to her smile.
"What was that, Mary Eunice?!" you exclaimed, and walked over to her with your chair to sit next to her.
"I don't know," she said, looking just as surprised as you and Sister Jude. "I know how brilliant you are and... I just couldn't let her discredit you like that."
"I'm proud of you, but more than that, I'm grateful," you replied, taking her hands in yours. Her hands felt warm as always, and on her sleeves, you could notice traces of flour, an indicator that she may have been baking bread before this meeting.
"It's nothing," she shrugged, and looked into your eyes. You watched her blue orbs for a moment, and suddenly, you were in another world in just a second.
"It's everything," was all you could say. "It was for me."
She smiled slightly, and looked down. That caused you to grab her chin and cause her to look up at you.
"Thank you," you spoke again.
She nodded, "Sure, it was my pleasure, I mean..." she chuckled. "I have faith in these patients, and I couldn't imagine a better person for this task with Allan, not even the Monsignor."
You opened your eyes in surprise and let out a gasp.
"You don't know how much your words mean to me," you replied. "I promise I will give him the best of treatment."
"I know you will," she replied, rising from her seat. "I have to... go check on that bread I left baking, and I guess you have to get home."
You nodded slowly.
"Yes, I do," you sighed, rising from your chair as well.
"I'll see you around then, partner," she teased.
Mary Eunice never hesitated to give you a heartwarming hug whenever she bid you farewell.
You loved her hugs, because she was a tall woman, and with the heels she wore, she was even taller, so you always ended up being wrapped in her arms and could easily lay your head on her shoulder.
And this occasion specifically, you couldn't forget it. That memory would follow you into the grave, you knew.
When she reluctantly pulled apart, your faces unintentionally remained mere inches apart. You stared at her lips, believing that would be the only thing you could afford to do.
However, she was the first to make a move, it seemed that today she decided to take risks, and do everything that, perhaps, deep down, she wanted to do and never had the courage to do it.
You lips responded to the tender pressure, and her fingers were trembling as they touched your cheek before she drew back. The kiss lasted about five seconds, but in that moment, you corroborated the relativity of time, because for you, they were the most beautiful and eternal five seconds you ever experienced.
"Are you free tonight?" She whispered against your lips. You nodded in response. "Good, meet me at 10 p.m., at the secret spot I talked to you about, you remember?"
You nodded again.
A tender and forbidden connection blossomed between Sister Mary Eunice and you that day, something that you thought would only happened in your wildest dreams, was taking place. There were stolen moments that ignited a fire in your hearts, and they became a routine.
If Mary Eunice snuck out from Briarcliff to go to your apartment, she made sure to return extremely early, and if questioned, she always made sure to buy something at the market or bakery, and explained to Sister Jude that she got up early to go get the item in question.
And when you snuck into Briarcliff through the secret entrance that Mary knew about, you had to watch yourself as you left her room and slipped through the corridors so as not to be seen.
"I didn't see you come in," Sister Jude once remarked, maintaining that suspicious and accusatory demeanor you were so used to that you were not intimidated even if you were now actually committing illicit acts of some sort. "You're too early."
"Yes, I am indeed early," one thing you loved about being a psychiatrist, was that you had an uncanny ability to lie if you wanted to. They taught it to you so you learned how to detect it, not how to employ it, but well... "It's just, they're repairing water leaks in my building, so my washing machine isn't working. I was wondering if I could wash my clothes here."
You showed her the small bag of clothes in your hands, which contained the nightgown you used during the previous night inside the place.
Every time you snuck into Briarcliff, you brought a change of clothes to change into the next day, because you foresaw that eventually Sister Jude would discover you prowling the halls, and if she saw you in a nightgown, that would ruin everything.
She snatched said bag from you, and arched an eyebrow. "Just a nightgown?" She questioned.
You shrugged. "I didn't want to risk carrying a bag full of clothes, in case you refuse," you explained. "This is the only nightgown I need, in case they take a the whole day to fix the leak."
She nodded, and took the bag with her.
"No way! And did she really wash your nightgown?" Mary exclaimed, laughing, letting you see those dimples you were so crazy about.
You just laughed, which confirmed her question.
The evening of that same day, Mary was at your apartment. You were lying on her chest, and you could hear her heart beating, while her long fingers were massaging your scalp in circular motions.
"Do you know how much I love that intelligence of yours?" She asked, and took your chin delicately so you would look up at her. "Maybe it's wrong that I found it extremely attractive that you were so good at lying," she added, as she let out a giggle. You giggled alongside her.
Her fingers traced the contours of your face, and her mood seemed to change slightly. "And you know what else is wrong?" She whispered. "How much I want to kiss you right now."
You eagerly closed the distance between you both. Your lips met in a very passionate kiss, and you didn’t know how, but every single one that you shared managed to be better than the last one, and it never failed.
"Am I good at it?" She spoke when she pulled apart.
You frowned.
"Good at what?"
"Kissing. I just... I wonder if I'm any good at it. I've never had the chance to... practice," she avoided your gaze when she asked.
Your heart swelled with a tenderness that only she could evoke.
"Aww, my love," you exclaimed, pouting. "Your kisses are the best, not just because they’re so addictive, but also because they come from you," you said, as you booped the tip of her nose with your index finger. She wrinkled her nose as she smiled.
Life felt like a dream whenever you and Mary were immersed in the little world you created. Part of you wished you could display your affection like other couples, stealing kisses at the movies, holding hands while taking a walk in the moonlit streets, or taking those pictures in a photo booth, but you cherished your encounters with her, no matter if the places where you could have them was limited to two.
Three months have passed since that first kiss you shared. Until one day, you dressed up carefully, wearing what Mary had said was her favorite dress. You chose a new pair of shoes to add a different touch to the outfit that you hoped she would like.
She entered the office you occupied whenever you visited the place. She seemed to notice every single detail of what you were wearing as you rose from your seat.
But just as your lips were mere inches apart from hers, she spoke, "This is wrong," she stammered, her voice trembling.
"What's wrong?" You asked gently.
"I've been thinking... about us. About what we're doing," she murmured, avoiding your gaze at all times. "It's not... appropriate," she confessed, her words filled with guilt and sadness. "I've been thinking about my role as a nun, about my commitment to God and the vows I've taken. What we're doing... it goes against that. I'm betraying my faith."
And it felt like reality hit you for the very first time, and you realized that it was naive to think that this thing you had with Mary would last forever. It couldn’t, it simply couldn’t.
You reached out and gently cupped Mary's cheek, looking into her eyes with understanding.
"Mary, listen to me," you urged, you were desperate for her not to regret the precious moment you shared. "You know I respect your beliefs, but they are subduing and suffocating you," you harshly snapped, and she denied with her head quickly, as tears formed in her eyes. "Yes, Mary, The Bible can be interpreted in many ways. Love is a beautiful thing, and it's not something to be punished for."
"But it's a mental illness," she whispered, her voice heavy with guilt. "We're both wrong, according to our respective paths."
You shook your head gently, a reassuring smile on your lips. "Darling, you trust my experience, right? It might be considered so, but it's not. Love is a natural emotion, and it's not something to be ashamed of."
Mary cried even more, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"But it's forbidden," she choked out. "This desire is my burden to bear."
"You're not alone in this struggle," you replied, sadly. "We can… rewrite our own destinies, be pioneers of our own love story. Please, Mary, don’t regret this,” you pleaded, as you surrounded her waist with your arms. You really wouldn’t be able to bear the pain if she ever punished herself for what she had done.
But she pulled you away, and she shook her head, signaling you that she indeed would hate herself for something so innocent as the kisses you shared.
She stepped out of the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click. You were left standing there, your heart heavy with several what if’s crossing your mind. What if, instead of staring at her lips, you simply pulled away from the hug like you always did? What if you didn’t hug her in the first place that day?
Because if only one of those options had happened, Mary Eunice would not have turned away from you. And the worry gnawed at you.
Likewise, every time you visited the institution in order to follow up with your assigned patient, you stayed a little longer and slipped through the corridors in the hope of running into her. Little did you know, however, that she intentionally locked in her room so as not to see you.
Days and weeks passed, until one day, she was shamelessly walking around with her head held high. She seemed to have had enough of hiding, and her demeanor somehow urged you to be the one to hide instead.
"Mary," you said, unable to help your smile.
It is well said that sometimes, by letting go of something you desire, you are bringing it closer to its arrival. Because, you stopped looking for her desperately as before about three weeks ago, and almost miraculously, she was right in front of you.
"Doctor," she said, with an arrogant air that you could detect with just one word.
You walked besides her in silence, waiting for her to say something, but not a single word came out. She even seemed to be walking alone and you simply followed her like a puppy. Somehow, you discovered that she was very aware of that fact, and it amused her.
You confirmed it when she indeed gave you a quick glance and scoffed mockingly.
"Uhm... how have you been?" you couldn't think of anything else to get the conversation flowing. It was almost pathetic.
"Wonderful," she said with a smile. Finally, you ended up at the door to her room.
You gave her a questioning look, asking her in a roundabout way if she wanted you to come in with her, or if she wanted you get the hell out.
You opted for the first option, and she didn't object at all. In fact, you would have preferred her to at least kick you out or insult you, something... just something that didn't show the cold disdain with which she was treating you.
"Mary, I... I understand that you might consider me a bad influence, for having somehow 'tempted' you to kiss you..." you paused, not knowing how to concretize the sentence you spent so much time going over for when you had her in front of you.
You put yourself in her shoes, maybe she considered you some sort of temptation and she hated herself for succumbing to it.
A sly smile curled upon her lips, as she responded, "Bad influence? Temptation?" She laughed, her tone filled with a mockery that was starting to make you feel irritated. "You do think I regret that?" She moved closer, her body language becoming subtly more alluring as she leaned in. "Regrets are a human quality, everyone has them. And as you can see," she gestured to herself with a sweep of her hand, "I'm far beyond such trivial concerns now."
You felt a tight knot forming in your throat, as you felt an unbearable regret take over your mind with every word spilled from the woman’s mouth. This was not the Mary you knew, the one whose innocence and kindness defined her character. What have you done? Had you participated in whatever event had led to this.
You had no time to answer, or even to organize your thoughts, when she led you to her bed and gently pushed you to sit down.
"Mary..." you tried to formulate.
"Shhhhh..." she put a finger over your lips. "I'm sick, sick of being me."
She began to remove the habit covering her head, revealing her silky blond hair. It seemed that was enough to stop your thoughts for a moment, so you could appreciate how beautiful she looked with her loose hair flying down in waves to just below her shoulders.
She seemed to notice, because the expression of victory on her face seemed to say more than a thousand words. It seemed that the power she had over you gave her strength to go through with whatever her plans with you were.
"Mary, I understand that you are tired of all the abuse you have experienced here and I am glad that you do not regret our… affair. In fact, I commend you for putting an end to it," you began, looking up. The fact that you were sitting and she was standing did not help your situation at all, as she towered over you, almost as if you were somehow assuring her that she was superior to you. Immediately you realized that and stood up, which made you feel slightly better, although the height difference was always considerable. "But you don’t have to go the other extreme. This, is not you."
She clenched her jaw together, making you sit down again.
"How adorable that you think you can understand me, that you believe you can see through to the heart of the matter," her fingers trailed lightly over the edge of your jawline, her presence being incredibly intoxicating. As much as you tried to remain strong, you unavoidably melted at her touch. "What's happening here goes far beyond your textbooks and analysis."
"I just know you hit rock bottom," you whispered, as soon as your faces were only inches apart, just like that one time. "And this is you rebelling yourself. Like a teenager."
Her blue eyes redirected to your lips, and ascended again to your eyes. The latter indicated that she decided not to lean in and kiss you just as she did weeks ago, but the reason was quite different.
“But it's hopeless, don't you think? You, a rational psychiatrist, and me, a devoted servant of God. Such a love story is laughable," she replied.
There you realized, she wanted you to beg for it, convince her that you were meant to be together despite the circumstances that seemed incredibly inconvenient for both of you.
"I know, and I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I never expected to feel this way about…" you started.
"Oh, spare me the cheap excuses," she interrupted you. "Don't try and justify what you desire, what we both desire. It's only natural.”
You didn't know why, but that answer didn't give you any peace of mind. Yes, Mary may have decided to accept the fact that she was attracted to you, which would have thrilled you. But something didn't seem right. Something wasn't right.
And you confirmed it when, at your lack of response, she began to shed the rest of her attire, slowly revealing a red baby doll she was wearing underneath.
Your pulse quickened, and your eyes widened in such a way that you felt like they were going to shoot out of your skull.
It all happened so fast, or maybe it seemed that way since you were so immersed in a mental battle where you were searching for how to cope with this situation.
"Mary, don’t," you exclaimed, grabbing the top of her tunic, which was resting on her elbows. "I understand that you're feeling some sort of adrenaline rush right now, but when this expires, you'll realize what crazy things you're doing," you said, as you tried and placed the tunic back on its place.
"Don't be a prude now," she spat, grabbing your wrists to stop you from touching her. The force with which she did so made you protest in pain. "I'm finally giving you a chance to fulfill those fantasies of yours, or what? Are you going to deny to me what you’ve done? You're a dirty whore," she screamed the last part. "Whenever we saw each other, the first thing you did after when you were alone again was go and pleasure yourself, imagining it was me fucking you hard right there. You're a sick woman, doctor. Maybe I should lock you in this place too."
You had no idea what to say. It was true what she said, but how did she know? Was she watching you? Or was it all just mere deduction?
The only thing you were sure of, was that you felt attacked, accused, pointed out, so it was only a matter of seconds before the palm of your hand hit hard against her cheek. It was with such force and rage, that your hand burned and began to tingle.
The next thing, left you completely shocked.
For a brief second, her gaze softened, subsequently showed puzzlement. Lastly, she started breathing heavily, almost having a panic attack.
"(Y/N)! I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to tell you all that! I just..." but she didn't continue, instead, she took a deep breath, and her gaze hardened again. "Ah, actually, I did want to, but as usual, I'm too weak of character to tell people their truths."
Not willing to waste any more time, you immediately retreated from the place as quickly as you could, and the last thing you heard was a loud mocking laugh from Mary.
Although you were drowning in nerves, and many things you could not explain, you were relieved, for that last incident made you conclude that Mary was suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder. It was more than obvious.
However, you couldn't explain how Mary seemed to be aware of what she was doing. Generally, the individual tends not to remember their actions during the dissociative state. You also couldn't explain how she knew what you were doing after seeing her, when there was no way for her to discover you.
The most logical thing was that perhaps this was a case of partial amnesia, and as for the latter, perhaps a person overheard you on one occasion and it happened to reach your friend's ears. Your neighbors were not the most discreet and the walls of the building you lived in were not the thickest ones either.
This led you to a mission, which was to understand her traumatic history and uncover the root causes of the disorder.
***
"Can I talk to Mary, please? Who am I talking to right now?"
It has been about one week ever since you last stepped into Briarcliff, and now you had a new case to address.
Sister Jude swore this was demonic possession, but you did nothing but laugh in her face and dismiss her foolish hypothesis. But you understood why she believed it, for the answer Mary gave you could give rise to such interpretations.
"You can call me whatever you like. Some call me the devil, others call me Satan," she replied, with that same tone of vanity that you had to face the last time you saw her.
"I see," you nodded, looking directly into her eyes. "And according to what I recall, you do what Mary doesn't have the courage to do, in order to protect her."
"Oh, Doctor, you misunderstand. I'm not here to protect Mary," she countered. "I'm here to embrace the darkness within her, to unleash the desires she represses, and to revel in the power I bring. I'm not a protector, I am the one who will vanish her.”
You were taken aback by that statement. This was indeed a strange case, and perhaps Mary hated herself a little too much more than you thought.
"Oh, and what desires could they be, that she's repressing?" You tried your best not to show any sign of surprise. But something deep down within you was alert, something that warned you that she could sense any feeling anyway, no matter how hard you tried to hide it.
"The longing she feels for you, the desire to be close to you, to hold you, to kiss you," she explained, as if what you asked was the simplest question to answer. "The desire to take revenge on her 'friends' for humiliating her in the swimming pool that day, or that desire she has to beat Sister Jude to death with the same canes with which she punishes her," she continued. "No matter how much she has gone to confess her sins, or how many Our Fathers she has recited, she knows very well that all that will not leave her mind."
Mary was a noble soul, too noble that it was almost infuriating when it came to certain things like letting others take advantage of it… so this all made more and more sense to you.
"Oh, I... I understand," you sighed. "Well, I would like to talk to Mary. I want her to tell me how she feels," I insisted. "I can help her understand those feelings."
"I’m afraid she slumbers now, resting peacefully while I take the reins," she refused. "But, I bet you know, Doctor."
"I know," you affirmed. "From school to her everyday life in Briarcliff, she has faced such hostility and mistreatment. No wonder she developed these dissociative identities as a way to cope."
"I like to feed on those who are weak in spirit," she replied. "Even if she refuses to accept it, I am a shield against the pain and shame she couldn't bear to face. But it seems you're starting to understand her struggles, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," you answered simply. "Thanks for everything… Satan," you scoffed in amusement a little when calling her by that name.
Normally, with your other patients, you observed at least a slight process after a few weeks, but Mary Eunice's case, which at first seemed so easy to understand, was now the one that frustrated you the most.
You asked Mary's acquaintances, she never presented dissociations, nor behavioral changes, nor any symptoms of Multiple Personality Disorder. Not in her childhood, not in her adolescence, and certainly not in adulthood.
No matter what method or technique you used, you always left the room feeling humiliated and you could even say like a failure.
You never backed down from a challenge, and no matter how complex they were, you were confident in your abilities and understood that you were a human being, not some sort of all-powerful being who solved everything with a magic wand. However, seeing how the Mary you knew was fading more and more, made you hate yourself for not being one.
You reached a point of despair, where you never thought you would find yourself. You began to consider the —previously ridiculous— statements of Sister Jude and the Monsignor.
And this only gave rise to more questions.
If he was the devil, why did he allow me to question him as if he were really a personality invented by Mary? Why didn't he bother to prove to me the veracity of his existence, if he knew full well of my skepticism.
"That's what he wants," the Monsignor assured me. "He wants you not to believe he exists, so you give up, to doubt yourself and weaken your spirit."
You said it yourself. Religion did not have to fight with science.
There were certain phenomena that you couldn't explain to yourself, like that gut feeling that knew before you what was happening. You felt exposed even when you swore it was nothing more than a personality Mary had created... there was always something that made you feel this was something more.
And so, you were inside Mary’s dimly lit room. You never thought your presence would be approved for a ritual such as an exorcism, but the Monsignor said you were maybe the closest thing to a loved one Mary had. How could you ever refuse, if that was the case? You were more than moved.
You stood on the one side of the bed, listening to the Priest’s strong prayers, as you held a small crucifix in one hand and a vial of blessed water in the other. The demon that had taken hold of her seemed to mockingly glance through her eyes.
At the Priest’s signal, you took a deep breath, and addressed her, your voice firm yet filled with tenderness. "Mary, I want you to remember the moments we shared when we were kids. Remember when we went to the Bowerys’ bakery and they let us help them with the morning bread to sell? We were covered in flour," you chuckled softly, your voice occasionally trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. "We can share more of these memories together, if you keep fighting. I promise you won’t have to step into Briarcliff ever again, in fact, Lana Winters just got out of here, she will expose this place, burn it to the ground. I want us to celebrate that victory, Mary, please," you were pleading at this point. It was evident there was a desperate longing to break through her sorrow and reach the true Mary Eunice buried deep inside.
“I’m tired of fighting," you finally heard her voice, and you opened your eyes that were previously shut down as you sobbed. She was also sobbing desperately. "I want to rest."
"You are not your thoughts," you continued, speaking as firmly as you could. "You are not your hurtful experiences. You are not the sum of the pain they've caused."
Mary let out a small gasp, and a hint of a glimmer appeared in her eyes as a few tears escaped.
The Priest continued reciting his prayers, as strongly as he could. You, at the same time, recounted stories of your shared childhood, of the joy and comfort you brought to each other's lives.
While the Priest was in charge of expelling the demon inside her, you were in charge of helping Mary rise from among the darkness.
"Remember when we mowed the neighbors’ lawns? And with the money we earned, we went to the movies, and stuffed ourselves with food?" You continued. "Remember how we had a sugar rush and played Tag, you’re it at the back of my house for three hours straight? Remember how you screamed in the middle of the backyard it was the best day of your life? I do, it was the best day of my life as well," you wiped a few tears with the back of your sleeve, as you watched her scream desperately, and even though it pained you like a million stabs to see her in such a state, you were now sure she refused to give up now.
"Even though we parted ways, I got nothing but well wishes for you," you concluded. "And I’m never leaving again, never without you. It's never too late to come back to my side," you poured your heart into the words.
And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch beyond time itself, you saw it, a flicker of recognition, a spark of the person you knew and loved.
At the Priest’s sign, you raised the crucifix and splashed a few drops of holy water onto Mary Eunice. You repeated several words of encouragement, and the Priest repeated his prayers.
Her body tensed, a guttural sound escaping her lips. The demon's resistance was palpable, but you held your ground, the faith and love in your heart was what predominated every second.
"Mary, you are so close!" You urged. "You are stronger than this. You are one of the bravest, if not the bravest soul in this world!"
Her body arched, with a strangled cry piercing the air. And then, as abruptly as it had started, it was over.
It was over…
Mary’s once yellowish eyes cleared as if a veil had been lifted, bringing the beautiful ocean blue back to her irises.
She looked at you.
"Is that... you?" She whispered, the disbelief was noticeable in her face. But you knew, she was a warrior, and deep down she always knew as well, not for nothing she remained as kind as ever despite her unpleasant experiences.
With tears streaming down your face, you nodded. "Yes, Mary. It's me."
***
In the cozy cottage located on the outskirts of town, tranquility was the main thing that could be breathed in the air.
A year and a half had passed. Away from the now shut down Briarcliff, Mary Eunice decided to resign as a nun and take an indefinite break after the exhaustive event that had been her life. The journey had been one of pure healing, growth, and rediscovery for both of you, specially for your partner. But that was what you were there for, wasn’t it?
The sun generated warm rays across the kitchen where you stood. You were placing candles on a cake you took out from the fridge, which was adorned with frosting flowers. You woke up very early, and baked it yourself, with the help of the Bowerys through the other line of the telephone, of course, and it turned out better than you expected.
With the candles lit over the cake, you made your way to the small dining area, where Mary was taking the last bites of the pancakes you made her. Those were her favorites, you certainly had to make them for her on this special day.
"Happy birthday to you," you started singing. She looked up and her eyes lit with thrill, immediately, a wide grin spread all over her face. "Happy birthday, dear Mary. Happy birthday to you!"
Blowing out the candles, she turned to you with an appreciative expression in her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly.
You leaned in, expecting a gentle kiss, but Mary surprised you by pulling you close, her lips meeting yours with a desire that caught you off guard, and left you breathless.
"Oh wow, is it your birthday or mine?" you teased her playfully.
She laughed, and it always made you feel like you won a contest. "Well, does it matter? Every day feels like a celebration with you, the only difference, today I get a cake!"
You chuckled, and nodded in agreement, as you quickly went back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife to cut the cake you had prepared with too much love for your beloved Mary Eunice.
The simple act of sharing a slice of cake felt insignificant to others, but only you knew how much struggle and resilience it had taken for this simple event to take place. And the awareness of that simple fact, was that made every day as special as this one, as your girlfriend said.
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thecutestnewborn · 3 months ago
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just landed on here. Waddup? wanna be friends? hey!
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coolgal5 · 7 months ago
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You’re the poet in my heart
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Misty Day x Reader
warnings- Suicide attempt ngl, kinda sad but then happy, copious amounts of yearning
Also guys sorry I’m not hyperfixated on the hunger games anymore so I’m having trouble finding the motivation to write for lucky 😭🙏
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You were young when you met her, you remember the days running barefoot through through the woods and the excitement feeling in the pit of your stomach associated with her smile, she was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck inside all day. The days spent in bed with her singing softly to you, occasionally pressing a kiss to your knuckles or stroking your hair. A delightful change as you had always considered yourself rather plain. The smell of her lingering in the air when she wasn’t around, consuming your days.
You had always known she was special, although it never occurred to you to mind. Misty on her own meant so much to you that it wouldn’t bother you. Until members of the local church you both attended picked up on these abilities.
They had dragged her in the middle of the night, kicking and screaming from her bed. You had followed along, shouting and pleading with them not to hurt her, nobody listened. that’s when it hit you. You knew you were going to lose her. And as they strung her up to the wooden podium you screamed. You screamed and cried until all the air was gone from your lungs, you screamed until you couldn’t anymore and someone had to pull you away.
After that you felt empty, you couldn’t eat or sleep for weeks, like a part of you was missing. You sat at your desk, scribbling down letters, despite knowing she’d never read them you continued writing anything you felt. Mountains of paragraphs describing the details of how you missed her. You felt totally hopeless and like there was nothing you could do to feel normal again, not without Misty. You needed to clear your mind.
So you stepped out into the crisp night, feeling the cool breeze dancing along your skin as you walked to the creek bed through the woods. You stood on the bank and looked over. Noticing the water had risen due to the spring showers plaguing your town. Then an idea walked into your head.
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You could jump.
So as you stripped off your cardigan, and peeled off your shoes and stepped off the bank, plunging into the cool heap beneath, the last thing running through your mind was Misty.
———————————————————————
However you awoke, smelling the Louisiana mud in the air, and feeling it deep through your fingers. You moved yourself, attempting to fill your lungs. Peering around, you had noticed you were in a garden of some sort. You didn’t recognize it but there was a tiny cabin near where you were. You attempted to get up however you stumbled a bit before eventually catching your balance. You made your way towards the cabin hearing the familiar sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing from the inside. You felt a sense of nostalgia connected to it, however in your state you found it unable to reach into the depths of your memory and pull out any memory you had associated with the music. You raised your hand and knocked at the door.
You were immediately greeted with a warm presence, wrapping you in her arms, and with the sight of her smile and the smell of her hair in the crook of your neck, the memories came flooding back to you.
Tears began to spill from your eyes onto her. She Leaned away from the embrace and began stroking your face with her cool, ringed fingers.
And you knew, that you had found what you had searched for.
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akillerbeforeyou · 9 months ago
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super hot intro post
amelia, she/they, 19 years old, trapped in the midwest.
used to write on wattpad and decided i wanted to start writing again so here I am! feel free to send in requests and I will get to them as soon as possible (which shouldn't be long considering I have nothing to do)
who i write for:
evans characters: tate, kit, pre and post death!kyle, jimmy, kai, and austin.
others: dandy, sally, misty, lana, possesed!sister mary eunice, the countess
i'm an american horror story writer so ill probably stick to those characters for the most part, but I'm also down to write for other evan peters characters (ex. quicksilver, colin zabel) so go ahead an request!
what i write: usually i only write fem!reader but I'm open to writing gender neutral. i don't do heavy descriptions of what the reader looks like (race, size, etc.) because I don't feel educated enough to. i do both smut and fluff oneshots, I haven't tried my hand an angst but I might in the future.
please let me know if you want to be moots!
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sra-santiago-luuz · 2 years ago
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É difícil ser mãe, mas também é difícil ser filha.
É difícil ser namorada, noiva e esposa.
É difícil ser independente, segura de si, ter amor próprio...
No geral é difícil ser mulher, é difícil ser uma pessoa nesse mundo horrível.
Mas também é difícil viver e por muitas vezes é difícil querer continuar vivendo.
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sawyerconfort · 1 year ago
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hi! saw that ur reqs r open and ur gonna write for mallory! so yay for that!! but i would like to req a fic with misty from your prompts 1 & 3 (bcuz i feel like those r something she would say) thank u! have a good day!<3
YAY! Thank you anon!
Oh my, the cuteness of this request!
Misty deserves all the love!
Let's do it then!
Enjoy!
Requests open (for any fandom i write for)!
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1. “you smell really nice." 3. “i think i’m falling for you.”
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(look at her she's literally a baby ugh)
For days, you waited to speak with her. For weeks. For months. For years. Misty would never come back from the nightmare of losing herself in her personal hell and that was one of the worst things you could ever witness in your entire life.
Then came that boy. That tall, intimidating, powerful blond boy. And he brought her back like magic, like it was nothing. He did something you've been looking to do for many years, and would have done, if you had enough magic and knowledge to find the right way.
As much as you wanted to hug her, touch her, kiss her, you had a high amount of common sense that still spoke louder in your brain, and it made you want to wait for the moment when she was feeling better to approach.
Misty hadn't even returned twenty-four hours from her personal hell when Cordelia appeared at your bedroom door, after a catastrophic episode in which she nearly died, and her eyes looked more loving than ever when they looked into your face.
"(Y\N)?", she called you, affectionately. "Misty wants to talk to you."
"Me?" you frowned, getting up. Cordelia shrugged, and as her expression was calm and light, you thought with relief that it couldn't be anything serious. Cordelia walked you to her room, which is where Misty was, and then stopped in the doorway, waiting for you to come in to leave you alone.
And she was there, sitting, still, with her back to you. When she heard your footsteps, Misty turned her head and smiled, her eyes closed, giving you room on the bed. You smiled back and felt her whole body light up with joy and gratitude for that moment.
"I missed ya", was the first thing she said to you. The thing that looked like it came out of a dream. The thing that made your heart lose control and race wildly.
"Me… me too…", you whispered, still catching your breath. "You can't even imagine how much."
"I think I can figure it out…", she laughed, and then her arms pulled you into a hug so hot and so sweet you never wanted to break, not even in an emergency. "Ya smell really nice, (Y\N)", she said, again, making your heartbeat drop.
"You… you too…", you whispered, laughing, trying not to stutter.
She smiled and seemed not to mind your nervousness. Misty just wanted to be able to, honestly, be with you again. That was definitely the most important part for her. Misty didn't break the embrace, and only made it last longer, smelling you pleasantly for a while longer.
"I don't say just because of the perfume, because… I acquired a new gift of being able to smell people… their soul. And ya soul is good, (Y\N), there's nothing bad inside from ya…"
You laughed, you missed her daydreams, and honestly, you didn't even care about their veracity. Just knowing that Misty was still your Misty was comforting enough.
"But there's one thing… One thing I need to tell ya, and I planned to tell ya before, before the Seven Wonders happened and all that…", she whispered, breaking away from the hug and looking into your eyes. "There's something that haunts and intrigues me, and I think ya need to know…"
"You can tell me anything, whatever it is. You know that, Misty…"
"The thing is, (Y\N)… I think I'm falling for ya."
You were too impressed to say anything, and your heart, which had already calmed down, raced again. You looked at her and frowned in disbelief, but not upset or scared.
"Oh, I mean, uh…" Misty stammered for the first time, feeling like she has messed up with everything. "(Y\N), I…"
"Me too."
It was the only thing you said before kissing Misty with all your love and feeling for her, whether it was on impulse or not. And having her reciprocate was a surprise that warmed your heart. When you pulled away from her, Misty's little eyes were opening and twinkling, and she looked up at you with a warm little smile.
"Ya were saying?" she whispered playfully as you smiled.
"I was just saying that I'm falling for you too," you replied in the same tone, still smiling. "And that… maybe, just maybe, I'd like to kiss you again…"
Misty cupped your face in both hands and nodded.
"I really hope this is my personal heaven," you could hear her whispering to herself as she kissed you again, as the world collapsed around you, too busy to even pay attention.
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dreamypqulson · 2 years ago
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— hold me into the new dawn
requested by anon: Would you be able to write something sad/hurt/comfort with Doris Gardner?
summary: after surviving provincetown, you are left with the night terror’s that comes with it, luckily you have doris to bring you back to safety.
pairing: doris gardner x female reader
word count: 1300
a/n: pretend harry isn’t in this gif🥴
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It was the trembling bed that woke Doris up. Whimpers echoed against the silent four walls but the sound was loudest beside her. She heard her name being called somewhere between the cries and pleads but she could not pin point the rest.
Her eyes fully adjusted to the darkened room. She leaned up onto her elbows, and to the moonlight seeping through the curtains, it illuminated your distressed body.
Your movements only got stronger, harsher, the longer it went on. Doris’s chest was overwhelmed and riddled with anxiety. When you loudly whimpered out her name once more, your body greatly shook and she decided that she could not leave you like this.
“Y/n!” She said but her voice did not pass a mere whisper. She lightly shook you but to no avail. “Y/n, honey!” Her voice grew louder, the hands shaking your body becoming far more hastier.
The torture had finally ended, but she wasn’t sure that it was from her own doing. You shot up in bed, chest heaving and face beat red from the fight you’ve put up without even being conscious.
Your eyes frantically searched the room, looking for Doris everywhere except for the once place you typically knew she would be. Finally, you looked beside you, emotion crashed over you face when you saw the pure concern on her own.
“D— Doris,” you sobbed, and your face completely crumbled into your hands. She immediately took action, wrapping her arms around your body, so fragile in the moment. “I— I thought you died!”
You fell back into her embrace. Her sweet scent of vanilla filled you up. You could feel Doris’s stomach rise and fall as she took each breath but you just refused to believe that the woman’s pulse was still pulsing and that her lungs were still inflating, deflating, with air. The night terror had been so real that you hardly believe that your girlfriend holding you is truly there.
“It was just a bad dream, sweetie,” she whispered in your ear. The blonde woman brushed her fingers through your hair to calm you, gently untangling the knots that your erratic movements had caused. “I’m here. I’m right here with you. It’s over now.”
Doris softly shushed you, whispering the sweetest of nothings in your ear. It hadn’t been the first time this had occurred, but certainly the most terrifying. Ever since you and Doris had moved back home after Provincetown, you had awful night terrors. What you and Doris had went through and saw had scarred you.
You nuzzled your head into Doris’s neck, attempting to protect yourself from the outside. She let her hands drop to your back, sneaking under your shirt to lightly scratch the skin there. She could feel your rapid breaths from beneath her finger tips. It concerned her. “Breathe, honey. Deep breaths, in and out. You’re safe now.”
You picked up a piece of her long, silky hair, twirling it between your fingers to distract yourself while you follow her instructions.
She pulls you back and cups your cheeks with her cold hands, staring into your eyes with a gentle smile and scrunched nose. It’s nearly impossible to not smile back when she gives you that face, she knows it too. You advert your eyes elsewhere to avoid your own blush.
She places her forehead against yours; it causes you to look back at her. Her skin against yours somewhat grounds you. “Ready? Breathe in four.”
You comply, breathing in for four beats with your girlfriend.
“Hold four.” Doris taps her thumb four times on your cheek to counts along with the seconds.
“And out eight.”
You finally release a long breath. Doris keeps her forehead firmly against yours and you keep your eyes down in shame. You woke her up in the middle of the night for this. You felt horrible.
“Tea and some fresh air?” Doris says, rather than asks. She knows you need to breathe your own air. To have something other than this stuffy room to relax and calm you.
The walk downstairs was all too quick. For the majority of it, you kept your eyes shut and head down on Doris’s chest. You were still shaken up, frightened that the pale men would grab you from her reach.
Doris stops when you walk by the kitchen. "I'm gonna make you some tea, sweetheart. Go head out to the front porch."
You whine and grips Doris’s arm even tighter. You feel like a child but you simply do not want to be alone right now. She sighs but completely understands. “Alright. Come on,”
Doris brings you into the kitchen with her. She turns on the light and the brightness has you both squinting at such a late hour. The house is silent besides the tea pouring into the ceramic mug. Your girlfriend listens to your breathing to make sure you’re steady. You listen to Doris’s breathing to make sure that it was truly just a nightmare and she is, in fact, alive and well.
Doris then, with a steamy mug in one hand and your shaky hand in the other, walks out onto the porch. It's foggy out and there's no cars on the road. It feels like a fever dream that neither of you want to wake up from.
You both sit down on two chairs that are right beside the door. She hands you your tea, although worried that you’ll spill it with shaky hands.
You don’t spill it. You don’t drink it either. You simply stare into the mug as if there was a film playing on it. You stare so intently like it's the most interesting thing.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Doris suddenly asks, and for a moment, the silent streets make her sound so loud. Like the entire world can hear. But it’s only the two of you. It has only ever been the two of you.
Your lip trembles and you refuse to look up. A tear drop falls into your tea instead. You want to place the mug down and lunge herself into Doris, but you can't. You’re stuck.
“I— I don’t know. I’m just so scared, I almost lost you back in that hell town. I don’t want that to ever happen again. Doris, I need you in my life. I— I—,” you begin to uncontrollably sob again, so much that you lose your train of thought.
Doris shushes you and she places your mug down on the small table for you too.
"I'll never leave you," She grabs both of your hands, holding them in hers. "Never. Do you hear me, honey? They’re gone. It’s over. And now i’ll be here for the rest of our life. I promise.”
You finally crumble. Doris catches you and she lightly tugs you onto her on her lap. "All that matters..." She puts your hand onto her own chest. "Is this." She guides your fingers along her beating heart. You subconsciously traces a heart onto the soft flesh.
"And this" Doris taps her own free fingers against
your chest. She can feel your heart finally beating slower, at a less concerning rate than it was just a few minutes ago. "And they're both still beating. They'll still be beating for years and years from now, alright?"
You nodded, and then put your ear against Doris’s chest. You contently listened to the thumping sound. The pattern never once faltering. You would listen to it over and over until it put you to sleep just like a lullaby would for a child.
Doris sat there, awake, holding you protectively incase of another scare. But she was certain that wouldn't happen again, because your subconscious could hear the beating of her heart against your ear. This time, she is real, she is alive, she is here with you.
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bluerthanvelvet444 · 8 months ago
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ᯓ★⋆˚🅰🅿🆁🅸🅲🅸🆃🆈⋆。˚ ⁀➷
(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)
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tags: smut with plot and a bit of fluff in the end.
warnings: subby!Peter, restraints, handjob, fingering, riding, p in v, denied orgasm, praise, mentions of abuse, mentions of alcohol, mentions of fight, swearing.
summary: Peter gets captured by the villains. This fic takes place after x-men apocalypse and before x-men dark phoenix.
character count: 19k.
full fic under the cut ↓
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
Memoir. What’s its provenance? What is it?
According to scientists, memories are “formed as a result of connections between neurons in the brain”. The poet Sylvia Plath, instead, “sardonically embraced the most horrific and vulgar fragments from the storehouse of collective memory”. The great philosopher Aristotle believed that “memory is like a writing that remains etched in wax, and whose inscriptions remain more or less durable”.
Although you continually researched and seeked in books for the perfect depiction, you weren’t able to find anything that could comply with your personal belief. You were staunch that memories are, in fact, the mirror of our being. Disgraceful memories, glorious ones…they’re both needed to construct the way we act, the way we think, and the way we are. You had always been involved in memoir personally, because of your quirk. You had the marvelous capacity of intruding into one’s memories. You couldn’t directly change or interact with them, instead, you could see, reproduce, assimilate and mimic them. Phenomenal, isn’t it? You may think it is but, your biggest gift to you was, in fact, your biggest ruin. Your life started its downgrade the exact moment you found out about it. You remembered it all.
You were standing small in front of your mother, who had either fallen asleep or passed out. The bottle of cheap tequila in her hands made both answers valid. You were just a kid but you knew it wasn’t easy. Your father had left when you were just a fetus in your mother’s womb. Since then, she had never been the same. All the bills, the rent, expenses were on her. Her job exhausted her and the little time she had left, she spent drowning her worries in alcohol. She didn’t need any more problems, so you never told her about that awkward energy growing inside of you. That particular day you felt it bigger than ever, the need to find out what it led to even stronger. So you put your tiny fingers on her temples, as the little voice in your head told you to, and you started seeing. All of your mother's life was flashing in front of your eyes quickly. You stopped at one particular memory, you inspected it. Your mother stood pregnant in front of a man that kept yelling at her. You put the pieces of the puzzles together. It was clear, and the new knowledge of the situation triggered something inside of you, inside of your power. You kept replaying and replaying the scene, tears in your eyes, as the man’s words dissolved from the memory and came directly out of your mouth. That woke your mother up, she was holding her head as the same image kept banging in her mind, and as the man’s voice spit those known words harshly from your little mouth. She yelled for you to stop, and you lowkey wish you never did. As soon as you stopped, she grabbed you and threw you inside of-what you playfully called-the dark room, your basement.
“I-I’m sorry…I can’t-you’re him…I-I see him-” Her words came out broken from her mouth, her sobs stopping her mid-sentence as she locked you inside.
That became a habit since then. You grew up in the “dark room”, hardly ever going outside if not to eat and respond to natural calls. Your main activity was watching TV and day-dreaming about the outside world. You knew it was better than what you were living, it had to be. Especially because you found out that you weren’t crazy or evil but that you simply belonged to a different species. They called them mutants.And apparently, there was a school for kids just like you, the interviews of the famous Charles Xavier were the ones you liked watching the most on TV. As the years went by, your urge to run away grew more and more, and so you did. One day in the early 70s, you grabbed all of your things and left, taking advantage of your mom’s blackout. You took different taxis and avoided the questions about your young age, and you were finally standing in front of Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Although, it seemed different from what you saw on TV: it looked abandoned, the plate with the name on it rusty and absentmindedly resting on the ground, and the gates closed. You tried peeking inside, before being startled by an unfamiliar voice behind you.
“Don’t waste your time. They can’t help you anymore, but we can.”
This is how you found yourself with a group of mutants who had the exact same hopes you had, before they were broken by the closure of the school. You were guided by The Captain-that is how he wanted to be called-that was trying to create a new safe place for young mutants. And his plan seemed to work, kid mutants were actually starting to come…before Xavier’s school opened again. At this point, your group desperately found itself in front of the school’s gate again. You were dismissed,though, by a blue beast mutant.
“We’re sorry, the school only accepts young kids between 5 and 17-” He told you before turning his back.
“You can try and talk to Charles though, I’m sure he will find some space for y-'' He stopped seeing you had all left.
This is why The Captain’s plan was ever created in the first place. He believed that Charles Xavier was a man only drawn by his personal needs, and that he only used the young mutants to gain popularity and be idolized by the US government.
“This is why we were rejected. Our powers aren’t conventionally pleasing. No human kid would ever desire our powers. So if he believes our gifts can’t be used for good, we won’t use them for good.” He spoke firmly to you all.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
Your flow of memories was interrupted by The Captain.
“We’ve captured one. You will watch him while we take care of the others. Do your thing on him and find out his weakness.” He spoke with a deep voice.
You nodded and began making your way downstairs before he gripped your wrist.
“Don’t disappoint me, Y/N.” You felt his piercing gaze in your eyes.
“I won’t.” You gulped and quickly left the room.
When you opened the door you scanned your surroundings. The room was all white, with petty furniture. No windows, a table, a chair, a small closet, and a bed which had a figure laying down on it. You inched closer and scanned the boy. His eyes closed, he was probably knocked out, a few bruises on his skin, his hands and legs restrained by the strong collars around them… he looked your age, his hair was silver with some goggles resting on them. He had a pleasant face to look at, if the circumstances had been different you could’ve even admitted that he was pretty attractive. He was wearing a black protective suit, probably X-men’s equipment, you guessed. The more you observed him, the more you were confused. You expected them to capture the great Mystique, the glorious Magneto…not a newbie. You sighed and started walking towards the desk, ramaging in your bag for a sleeping pill so that you could do your magic without being interrupted.
Peter slowly opened his eyes, he could feel his body sore from the previous fight. He started to panic as he didn’t recognize his surroundings. He tilted his head forwards, noticing the person standing in front of the desk.
“H-hey…! Ppsttttt…Lady! Yes! You! Lady!” You heard his desperate calls.
You walked towards him and stopped at the side of the bed.
“Hi! So there’s a bunch of bad people who captured me and probably want to beat my ass-” You stopped him mid-sentence.
“I know.” You replied with a monotone voice.
“You-you know?! Don’t tell me you’re one of ‘em- oh shit! You’re one of ‘em! C’mon you have to be kiddin’ me…you’re too pretty to be mean! Hey! C’mon help me!” He rushed, his hands and legs squirming at high speeds against the restraints. You didn’t budge at his compliment, instead, you were focused on his movements.
“A speedster, huh.” You mumbled.
“A speed…A speedster?! Babe I'm not a speedster- I’m the speedster! Quicksilver! Peter Maximoff! The one and only!” He replied cockily, almost as if he was offended by your lack of knowledge. You raised your eyebrow, clearly having no clue of who he was.
“Aah babe you’ve got to be kiddin’ me! I’m Quicksilver! The one who beated Apocalypse’s ass! I did it all myself heh- I’m basically a hero, everyone loves me. Don’t ya watch TV or what?” Even though you had no idea who this guy was and what he did to be part of the X-men, you could sense the exaggeration in his words.
“I prefer books.” You shrugged before turning your back and making your way to the desk again.
“Hey! Hey! Where ya goin’?! Are ya a mutant too? Hey, yer not gonna hurt me aren’t ya?! What’s your power? C’mon tell me…What’s your power? Whaddaya do?!”
You rolled your eyes as his continuous questions started to annoy you.
“Will you shut up and let me do what I need to do?!” You snapped while holding between your thumb and index the sleeping pill. His pupils dilated.
“Whoa-whoa…let’s chill down a bit, yea? No need to use that, babe. Ya just gotta ask and I'll do whatever you want me to do.” He said with a smirk forming on his face. You sighed.
“Close your eyes and stay still.” You began pressing your fingers against his temples.
“...Will it hurt?” He said with a nervous smile, big brown eyes looking up at you.
“It doesn’t have to.”
Just like that you were thrown into Peter’s memories. You saw his child self, his mom, his sister…his first time using his powers…Magneto…many memories about Magneto, weird. You decided to dig a little deeper. You replayed the memory where he found out that…
“Magneto is your father?!” You exclaimed, visibly surprised.
“Hehe, I guess…so that’s your power?” He said with a tiny chuckle.
You kept thinking about what you just saw. You never saw a direct contact between Peter and Magneto, so you supposed he didn’t know about his son. That could’ve easily been used against him, you had to tell The Captain. You walked towards the table and gathered your bag.
“That’s a cool power…I’ve never heard ‘bout it. Actually, I’ve never heard ‘bout ya either…do ya have a supervillain name? Why didn’t ya fight with the others?” The words fell rapidly out of his lips. You gulped.
“Just Y/N. I don’t fight with the others. My powers weren’t made for physical combat.” That’s true, they hardly ever let you come with them on missions. You were useless for superheroes as much as you were for supervillains.
“Pffffttt…that’s bullshit! Ya can do those cool things with yer mind! Ya totally have to meet Charles, he’s gott-”
“Charles? Charles’s a selfish man who puts his needs first. I don’t want anything from him.” You scoffed.
“Wha-what? Are ya out of yer mind? Have ya ever even met Charles? He’s the coolest. I was literally a loser who lived in his mom’s basement before meeting him. Always been cool though.” His words made your blood boil, hearing that he didn’t hesitate to help him but discarded you immediately. You told Peter your story, how you truly believed Charles was gonna save you but ended up breaking your inner child’s heart. Your eyes started to water as memories flooded in front of your eyes.
“Hey-I-I’m sorry that happened to ya but- hey- if I get outta here alive, I promise I will take you to the school. The professor will help ya, he always does.” You looked at him, a tiny glimmer of hope appearing in your eyes even though you knew that you couldn’t leave.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
You spent all your day talking to him. He was funny, you had to admit. The nicest company you had ever had. He told you about his family, how he joined the X-men, everything. And before you knew it, the night came.
“Oh uhm. You should get some sleep, you’re probably exhausted.” You said while getting up, ready to leave.
“Wait- uhhh…I can’t really sleep with this armor thingy on. It’s uncomfy.” He complained.
“Oh. Right, I can bring you some clothes. But I…can’t untie you. It’s the rules.” You shrugged.
“No need to. I usually sleep naked.” He winked at you.
“...” You contorted your face, not really knowing how to respond.
“HA! Gotcha. Just kidding. I sleep in my boxers.” He said with a proud grin on his lips.
“...I’ll bring you clothes.” You said before being interrupted again.
“No! Seriously, I just need to take my clothes off.”
You raised your eyebrow.
“...Not because I’m a creep. Simply because my speed speeds my body’s functions, and by speeding it highs my temperature so I get hot.” He spoke as if it was obvious.
“...Right.” You sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.
“How does this thing open?”
“W-whoa whoa…you-are you gonn- wait-” He stuttered as his cheeks slightly reddened.
“You said you wanted your clothes off, and I’m not gonna risk getting scolded by The Captain by freeing you.” You sighed. He gulped and pointed where his zipper was.
C’mon Peter…ya can do this, buddy. Ya just need to focus, yea? Don’t let a fine chick undressing ya speed yer speedy hormones, mh? Peter thought to himself. Your hands gripped the zipper and started pulling it down. Stay focused soldier. His broad chest was revealed as you slowly undressed him. You stopped at his abs to hop on the bed and take his shoes off. As you leaned to pull his boots, your arm slightly brushed his crotch. Holy fucking mother of all the fucking mutants, fuck. She barely touched ya and yer already growing hard, Peter? Must be tha speedy genes, yea, has to be. Totally not has nothing to do with ya being a virgin in your 20s. Nuh-uh. Goddamn you, Peter!
You threw his shoes on the floor, and started pulling his suit down again. You let your gaze linger as he was half-naked in front of you. He was wearing boxers with lightning bolts on them, a tiny chuckle escaped your mouth at that.
“Someone’s excited.” You said with a playful grin on your lips as you pointed at the prominent bulge in his boxers.
“Hey! Not my fault ya got all handsy- how did ya expect me to react?” He said with a tiny blush on his cheeks, he was so cute.
“...And it’s the speedster genes, by tha way. They call me Quickie for a reason.” He replied, annoyed because of how embarrassed he got.
“Do you need help?” You suggested. It may have been wrong, since you were “enemies” and you barely knew each other but…when are you gonna have another cute speedster all for you again?
“DoIneedawhat-” He blurted out, not believing what he just heard.
Your lips curled up in a smirk, and before he could process anything, your fingers grazed his crotch through his underwear.
“Oh- fuck- yea…yes-” He moaned, you giggled.
“So eager, mh?” You teased him by pulling his waistband up and then leaving it smack against his skin. He groaned and nodded, he was so worked up by nothing. You undressed him of his boxers too, his shaft springing free against his stomach, leaving him naked on the bed. His hips bucked up in search of friction. You grinned and gently took his dick in your hand, slowly pumping it.
“Aaah…f-f-yes…please…faster…” He whined.
You giggled and leaned in to kiss his lips gently, muffling his pleas. You started speeding your movements, and he deepened the kiss as his moans rolled off his tongue. As you made out, you could hear the sound of his hands desperately squirming against the restraints.
“Please…let me touch you…” He whimpered, big puppy eyes gazing up at you.
“Mh…sorry, can’t do, baby. It’s the rules.” You smirked and leaned in to peck his lips again. You stopped and sat up to pull off your shirt. He groaned at the sight. You took him in your hands again and fasted your pace even more.
“O-oh..f-fuck...gonna…gonna cum babe…c-cant hold it in…ahh..” You giggled and sped up even more, your mouth working hungrily against his, eating up his moans. He came with a loud groan, muffled by your lips. He kept whining after that.
“Pleasepleaseplease…wanna please ya too…lemme…I’m good at it- I promise…I’m basically a human vibrator-long lasting rose toy- please…” You giggled and nodded, pecking his lips. You took off your pants, before untying one of his hands. He groaned and immediately pulled you closer, his hand making its way under your panties. He suppressed a moan by biting his lip as he felt your slick with his fingers. He gently started circling your clit, and after he heard a few moans of confirmation from you, he began buzzing his fingers against it.
“Ooh…f-fuck…just like that, baby, don’t stop…” You moaned, he answered with a cute whine. He looked up at you, his middle finger gently pushing at your entrance, not fully sliding in. You nodded and bit your lip to suppress any more unholy sound coming out of you as his fingers started to fuck you slowly.
“F-fuck…” You threw your head back. He was gazing up at you with parted lips, as if he had never seen something so breathtaking. He kept picking up the pace, until you stopped his wrist and tied it up again.
“Wha-Wait-Why..? Y-you didn’t like it?” He said with his silver brows furrowed, he was lost and scared of what your answer could’ve been.
“Oh, it was fucking awesome, baby. But I wanna use something else to come, yea? Will you let me do that?” You said in a cooing voice, clearly driving his mind crazy.
“Mhm…yesplease…” He nodded, his gaze not daring to leave your body.
You undid your bra, his eyes widening, and straddled his hips. Your entrance just above his cock. He groaned at the sight, his shaft fully hardening again. You smiled and slowly sinked in, until your hips met his.
“Aaah…w-warm…so warm n’tight…mppph…” He moaned loudly.
You grinned and started slowly sliding your hips up and down repeatedly, reaching a stable pace. You moaned as you started speeding up, yet it wasn’t enough to satisfy you fully.
“Mhh…baby…mind helping me a little?” You said looking down at him.
He moaned and nodded. He started superspeeding his hips to meet yours as you bounced on his cock. The new sensation making you moan loudly.
“Ohhh! Fuck! Just like that, baby…such a good boy…” You groaned as you felt yourself closer. He let out a tiny whimper as he heard your praise and kept speeding up, his wrists and legs straining against the collars, forming tiny red lines.
“Fuckfuckfuck…can i cum? P-please-ah…?” He whined.
“Mhhh...not yet- baby…let me finish first…” You smirked.
He groaned and sped up even more, trying desperately to bring you to the edge. He hissed as he felt that knot in his stomach urging to snap. It didn’t take much for you to come undone. You cried out as you were still jumping up and down at lightning speed. As soon as he felt you clenching around him, he moaned loudly, as he was just about to cum. You quickly pulled him out of you and allowed him to spatter his fluid on your body. He panted heavily, droplets of sweat sinking from his forehead to the mattress. You waited a few moments before grabbing a towel and cleaning you both. You laid down on the bed with him, moving his head on your chest as you ran your fingers in his silver locks, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
“You're my apricity.” You said while caressing his hair and pecking his temple. His eyes were closed, and he was clearly drifting off to sleep.
“Mh?” He mumbled, not moving one single part of his body, still restrained.
“Apricity. I read that in a book.” You chuckled.
“In simpler words?” He mumbled.
“The warmth of the sun in winter.”
“In even simpler words?” He muttered, his voice coming muffled by your chest.
“My life is the winter, you are the warmth.” You admitted. He didn't answer to that. You weren't sure if he actually understood the concept or even just your words, but one thing you were a hundred percent sure of.
He fell asleep smiling.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87
a/n: raaaahh!!! I'm honestly so proud of this, the fic came out just like i imagined. Anyways, hope you like it, love you all🤍🤍
join my taglist!!
all rights reserved.
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healingagoddess · 1 year ago
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Thanks for tagging me @oldtvserieslover and @dalhia28 it means a lot to me 😭🖤
Currently reading: I read everything in one day which sucks. But today i spent all day reading a wandaxreader fic called Lost Memories and it changed my life. 🥲
Last song: Bella donna by Stevie Nicks 🛐🛐🛐 that song is pure magic.
Currently watching: Love and death 😵 and it's so good!! Loved seeing Lily Rabe and Elizabeth Olsen working together. 😍😍 Elizabeth has literally been in ahs at this point.
Current fic: I am going to start going through a few masterlists here on tumblr that are wanda x reader and wandanat x reader, but I'm too shy to mention all that kinky stuff. 😳
Next on my watchlist: I have no idea, i still need to finish stranger things. OHHH! The wheel of time just aired and it's a must!! Once i finish love and death that's what I'm watching. 😭😭 Moiraine supremacy 🛐
Current obsession: Elizabeth Olsen 🛐🛐🛐 Salma Hayek 🛐🛐🛐 discovering new music and getting ready for halloween. 🎃
I'm gonna tag @danisnotmyname @fivemillioneyes @genietotherescue and @thenazwife 🥰🖤
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lotties-ashwagandha · 2 years ago
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hello
I heard that you are receiving requests, So, I wanted to see if you could make a Reader x Misty Fanfic.
You know, a reunion between Reader and Misty, after Michael frees her; full of fluff and happy tears, please 🌈
i love this request sooo much misty is one of my fav characters ever <3 asexual autistic goddess
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CRY FOR THE NIGHTBIRD
pairing: misty day x reader
word count: 1004
notes and warnings: idk death? sorry this took forever i literally have no excuses except for executive dysfunction lol we love autism. title from “nightbird” by stevie nicks bc misty deserves some stevie after being in hell lol
taglist (if you’d like to be added or taken off, let me know!): @cordeliass @traumatisedfangirl @devriesgoode
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You woke again in an empty bed. 
Once again, you reached for her, and she was not there. It had been years since she had last been beside you, yet she had carved herself gently into your soul, and her memory would never leave you. 
It would have been easier if you’d gotten stuck instead – maybe you had, for living without Misty was its own hell. 
It was useless to say that if you could take away her pain in a moment, you would, for such a sacrifice would not show even half of the love you had for her. 
 You forced your eyes open, blinded by the light sneaking through the protection of the curtains. You’d almost forgotten what day it was, though as soon as you felt the pain of the brightness stinging your eyes, it came rushing back to you. 
The paralyzing terror, the indescribable rage, all of it came crashing into you. That day Michael Langdon would attempt to execute the Seven Wonders. 
You never wanted to hear any mention of the test ever again – yet there you would be, watching every moment of it unfold, remembering the way you had returned from Hell and Misty had not. 
You could still remember the way she faded in your arms. The weightlessness that took her as ashes overcame her, dissipating into nothingness. 
From that day you had been utterly alone. 
A knock at your door startled you. You looked at the clock on your night table – sure enough, you were late, which was hardly surprising anymore. 
You did not have to open the door to know it was Cordelia waiting for her. She had tried – all of the witches had tried – to fill the absence that Misty’s death had left you with, and you knew they had better intentions than you would ever comprehend, yet all you wished for was solitude. If not Misty, not a soul could reach you. 
Just as you could still see the ashes that were left of her, you could see the peace in her eyes that never left. You could feel her arms around you, the perpetual warmth that carried you through the day left from a single embrace. 
No one could ever compare. 
Her shadow followed you, and you would be cursed with it until your death. 
You could hardly pay attention to any of it. The day was going excessively slow yet at the same time was flying by at the speed of light. You had gotten lost in so many memories that you could hardly tell what was real and what had already happened. 
You could see Misty everywhere, in everyone, in everything. In the look Cordelia would give you that silently asked if you were alright, in the witch who had been humming a Fleetwood Mac song on the way to the warlocks’ academy. 
And when Michael Langdon descended into Hell, everything came back in full force. 
You felt her body dissolve in your arms. You felt her leave you once more. 
Again, you were cursed in the empty bed, reaching for someone you would never feel again. 
Her eyes. The gaze you would never again meet. The love you would never again feel. 
Yet then, something shifted – you could not determine what it was, but something had changed dramatically, as if all of a sudden the planet had begun to spin in the opposite direction and you had been flung into space. The entire course of fate had changed, and the change was irrevocable. 
And there she was. Laying in the center of the room, as if this had always been planned, but a glitch in time had delayed her return for years. 
You hardly processed that you ran to her, that your knees would be bruised for weeks from the impact of throwing yourself to the floor to be at her side. 
You only knew that she was there with you once more. Her touch was real, and she radiated the warm energy of the sun. her eyes met yours, as if for the very first time again, and the memory of her would never compare to how it felt to hold her, to be in her presence. 
“Am I…” she asked, clutching your wrist, glancing around carefully. 
You nodded, choking on your words. Tears obscured your vision, tears of a joy you would never describe. “You’re alive,” you promised, “and you’re safe.” 
You embraced her, and the comfort you found in her arms would stay with you for the rest of your life. The safety you had experienced only in memory for longer than you could remember was finally present once more. 
Every fear you had disappeared in that moment. Nothing could separate the two of you anymore. Death had tried its hardest, yet it had failed, and even if the two of you perished in what was to come, you would perish together, in each other’s arms. 
She wiped your tears away. 
She renewed your existence. 
Such a comfort you had never known before. 
– 
That night, in the safety of the academy’s walls, you sighed contentedly as Misty laid almost on top of you, one of her arms draped over your waist. 
“I never stopped thinking of you,” she whispered abruptly. You had been stroking her hair, yet you froze. Misty’s voice was shaky from crying. “Every moment I was stuck there, all I wished for was to be with you.” 
“I would have given anything for you to be with me,” you promised. “I would have traded places with you.” 
“I know… I’m glad you didn’t, though. If you were there, if you had felt that pain, I never would have been able to live with it.” 
You almost started crying again, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I love you so much.” 
“I love you, too. More than you know. And I’ll never leave you again. I promise.” 
And the weightlessness you felt was no longer a product of death – it was of hope.
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tfw-tajaaa · 3 years ago
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Misty Day headcanons
these are just random things i think you and Misty would do, probably won't make sense but yes.
If you don't listen to the same music she does, please let her excitedly explain to you all her knowledge on Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks. (And if you do, and know a few things, excitedly add on!!)
Omg, the dates you two would have would be so simple but would be so aesthetically pleasing. Like, a charcuterie board on a blanket on a foggy day. You would also have cake in wine glasses, don't fight me on this
Movie dates. Those are also a thing but given the fact she lived in a shack/swamp um, please introduce her to films such as Heathers, Clueless, Scream, The Abduction of Lisa McVey, Funny Games, Gremlins, Stand by Me and movies like that. She would love them, don't ask how i know... i just do.
but please do not let her watch Cujo, Carrie, The Green Mile or Pet Semetary you will both just end in tears. She will be so hurt over the pets and bullying, you'll be hurt watching her cry, and BOOM y'all just in tears and a blubbering mess.
Another thing she'll do is wanna build tents if y'all watch movies, the extra warmth and the experience while y'all build them is so fun. While watching the movie, she'll ask so many questions instead of watching the movie and if it's a movie that you also haven't seen you'll be like "Misty, baby, i haven't watched it either" ...."oh, okay...Do you think she'll make it to the end?"
at Robichaux, she would teach Botancy and you would teach pyrokinetics or (basically any other thing that has to do with elements instead of earth and animals) and the students would call y'all fairies, because that's what you both remind them of.
On break, or when classes are done, you both could be seen in the greenhouse with tea and any kind of pastry chatting up a storm. Either about your day, a strange dream you had, a memory from her past, about one of the girls who is doing exceptionally well, or her calming you down from throwing Madison through a glass window with a flick of your finger and vise versa :D
back to the music thing from earlier, introduce her to your music, she may not be a fan of it at first but i think she'd LOVE Penelope Scott and Olivia Rodrigo. I just know it.
A single thing that flusters her no matter how many times you do it or how nonchalantly you do it is....✨nose kisses✨
the way her nose scrunches as you kiss the tip of her nose and then capture her lips in yours as he face flushes red and she breaks into a smile is like no other feeling in the world. Gosh, it's all so amazing to watch unfold.
Also also also, help her put on her rings. Be cheesy, and get down on one knee and slip on her rings onto any of her fingers🥺
Something you do to help her unwind is head scratches and then brushing her hair while she talks about her day. Afterwards, french braid her hair and then cuddle.
sitting in the greenhouse, eating poptarts and looking at the stars. yes.
Going on a walk and coming across a deceased animal and she automatically gets down to heal and revive it, afterwards you supply her with hand sanitizer and a kiss.
When y'all cuddle you first lay as a starfish, then she lays on you, then you wrap your arms around her and boom, y'all are sleep. The warmth of eachother just takes you right to sleep, she'll follow suit straight after tbh.
𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎
𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐬𝐨, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐜 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 "𝐎𝐌𝐆, 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒"
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klvgers · 4 years ago
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how the lily’s react to you having a nightmare
warnings: none <3
nora montgomery
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nora woke up to the sound of quiet sobs coming from the other side of the bed. she put her hand on your back, making you cry harder. "oh darling, what's the matter?" she turns you over on your back to see you teary red face. she sadly smiled at you and wiped your eyes, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "you left me. please don't ever leave me." you got a tight hold on her shirt. "oh honey, i'm not leaving anytime soon. i love you so much. you're okay." she reassured you, making you start to cry again, but nora calmed you down before you started sobbing. "don't you worry about me leaving sweetheart, i'm right here."
sister mary eunice
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mary felt jolt out of your sleep, instantly going to your need. "hey, hey, hey, shhh, calm down baby." she touched foreheads with you, this was a thing that mary did to help you calm down. "it's not real baby, remember? it's just a nightmare. i won't leave you okay?" you nodded and laid back on the pillows, sniffling a bit. she laid back as well, lifting you up and onto her, you putting your head in the crook of her neck. "i love you, okay. now get some rest. she kissed you on the forehead.
misty day
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misty heard you whimpering in your sleep, so she tried waking you up gently, trying not to startle you even more. "baby, baby wake up." you woke up sweaty and hyperventailating. "hey sugar, it's just me baby. it's okay." she brushed your eyebrows back with her thumbs, trying to bring you back to reality. "can you feel me baby?" you nod, stuffing your face in your girlfriend's soft hair. "i'm right here." "m-mistyy." you whined as the scary images flashed in your head. that was one hell of a nightmare. "shhh, i know honey." she whispered into your hair, before kissing your temple. she spooned from behind and whispered sweet "i love you's" before you drifted off to sleep.
shelby miller
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"y/n? baby, baby wake up." shelby jumped out of her slumber to you unconsiously crying. "y/n, wake up please." she coaxes you out of sleep gently, trying not to scare you more than you already were. "hey, it's all over now. it was just a dream, honey." she moved a strand of hair from your eyes and wiped your tears. "y-y-you died. at roanoke." you sobbed. "you died in the house." shelby teared up, but instantly recovered. she had to be strong for you right now. "but sweetheart, i'm right here, with you in bed. see, you're touching me." your hold around her arm got stronger. "i'm here with you, baby." she pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
rachel stevens
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rachel wouldn't even realize you had startled awake and left the room to get some water until she heard a knock on her office door. when she saw your red and puffy eyes, she’d pull you into the room and sit you down in her chair. "honey, you know i wouldn't let anything hurt you." you nodded and smiled. “now get up outta my chair, i need to finish grading these. but you can sit on my lap.” she offered, and you took it. the sound of her typing and her pen scribbling sent you fast asleep.
sylvia steineitz
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sylvia shakes you awake and makes you some hot chocolate immediately, it always calms her down so she's doing everything she can think of to help you. she thinks about calling grace to see what she would do but decides that she could do this all by herself. no one knew you as well as she did. she gives you your favorite snacks and candy as you try to recall what happened. "don't ever be afraid to tell me what happens in your dreams sweetheart. i'll always listen. i love you, okay?" you nod and she smiles, kissing your forehead.
emma hall
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“emma. please.” you cried, shaking your girlfriend awake. emma isn't a stranger to nightmares. when you wake up and you're panting for breath she doesn't say anything, she just holds you and kisses your neck as you start to relax, smelling the vanilla yet piney scene that you've come to love. “it’s alright little one, i’ve got you.” she takes of her hoodie and puts it on your shivering body. “you’re so pretty.” she whispers before kissing your nose. you blushed at the compliment. she had her arms wrapped around you and she doesn't let go the whole night.
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