slightlyhozy

[slightlyhozy]

“Through the Cold, I’ll Find my Way Back to You”

Chapter 3 - “I Have Never Known Peace Like the Damp Grass That Yields to Me”

Characters: Púca! Andrew Hoziee-Byrne x Original Female Character (Maisie Quinn)

Summary - Maisie Quinn, after inheriting a home in Ireland from her late grandmother, slowly learns a dark past about the land in which it was built on.

Word Count - 3,181

Warnings - None except violence against Andy :( and always mentions of dead animals

A/N - I wanted to focus on Andrew a bit here

Sorry I died… Mental health and work stuff ruin you.

PLEASE leave thoughts!

“Maisie, hi!” I hear Lydia, Elsie’s wife’s voice, over the phone. “Sorry, Elsie’s showering…is something up?”

A small smile arises on my face hearing her voice, wishing I called her instead. “Lydia! Hi! Everything’s alright…just calling to say hi.”

“Isn’t it a bit…late? The other woman laughed on the other line.

“Yeah, almost 3 am…” Considering how late the fox had been coming, it was interfering with my sleep schedule. Tonight, I was specifically struggling to sleep.

Hearing her chuckle over the line, I prepared for the scrutiny. “May, you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

“I know…” I paused, looking out into the moonlight outside my window. “Is it too late to say I’m still adjusting?”

“I think you’ll be adjusting for a while…I mean, that’s a really big move…Don’t feel like you need to justify anything to me.”

“I guess I just really miss you two and everyone else; I haven’t really made any friends yet.”

“Take your time, you’ll meet people quicker than you think. Bad advice, but... really put yourself out there.”

“Thanks, Lydia. What’s the situation with you two coming up…?” All I wanted was for them to come over, to remind me what it was like to be around people my own age. I thought back to Andrew, no, absolutely not. He must be some kind of hermit with how awkward he was.

I knew the answer already, depending on the client, I usually had lots of free time other than my more traditionally employed friends.

“I..I don’t think so, Elsie might be taking on a big case, and I don’t think I can get someone to cover sessions for me.” I nodded, holding my phone tighter. “Elsie did mention we’re planning to come over for our anniversary, right?”

“She did.”

“I know that’s farther away, but, at least it will be a little less cold during the summer.”

“I guess.” Pausing, I feel the urge to bring up my paranoia. “Can I tell you about something?” I figured the best person to reach out to would be a psychiatrist.

“Of course, what’s up?”

“I mean, the house, is wonderful, no issues in general, but outside my home, something doesn’t feel right.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know…Every time I go outside, I just feel watched, and then, the animals are weird too…They keep leaving dead animals around my property…”

“What animals?

“Foxes…and shrikes…?”

“Predators?”

Oh. I hadn’t even thought of that. “…Yeah..”

“Maisie, I’m not trying to dismiss your feelings, I promise, but, you’re in a tough situation, obviously you’re going to be a bit wary, and considering your anxiety, on edge. Have you gotten out recently? Into the city?”

“Not really,” I wanted to push, tell her about how the bodies weren’t eaten, the states they were in. “I’m having some people come over later this week to take a look at my flooring.”

“Perfect! You should try and put yourself out there, which I know isn’t easy…but there’s apps for that. When I first moved to Seattle, it wasn’t easy, but just that first friend is what led to other friends and then meeting my wife…You never know what’ll happen.”

——————————————————

1623

The chirps of crickets would be heard throughout the area, marram grass swayed gently in the wind as the ocean sang. Within the grass, a creature lay, undisturbed. It had remained undisturbed for a while, hidden within the rural areas of eastern Ireland.

It was morbid-looking, with pointy black ears, thin, brown curly hairs along its bony body. It’s eyes glowed a bright green, and its teeth were sharp and white. Claws grew from the paws connected to its scrawny, long arms and legs. A thick, bushy tail grew from its behind, everything about it was revolting, nothing of its likeness existed.

Its existence was simple, days spent of hunting prey and eating blackberries from bushes, its skin resistant to its thorns. There was no need for fear or protection, no wolf, fox, or badger would dare challenge it.

As it slept, it had no worries, just a deep, unwakeable slumber. Its warm body is cushioned by the ground. Bathing in the moonlight, it stayed unaware of the horrors approaching, the horrors happening throughout the land.

In late January, all Roman Catholics had been ordered to leave Ireland. A family decides to hide instead.

Near the shore, there are no inhabitants, only land, it’s isolated and beautiful. The family consists of four members, a father, mother and two sons. One cart, two horses, and their arms. The land was perfect to settle in, enough space to build a house and grow crops. The area was surrounded with lush forests and streams, water to bathe and cook with, trees for lumber in order to build the home, and firewood.

As weeks passed, the father and sons worked hard to build the home, and as time passed, the creature observed the work.

It wasn’t bothered, it shared the space it occupied with hundreds of living things, things that built nests, burrows, and dens across the landscape. It was just what happened, learning to coexist.

Progress was made fast, the effort put in was impressive, as time passed, the mother began to grow a round stomach, pregnant with a third child. It’s walls were clay with a thatched roof. It was small and cozy, hidden away.

The family lived happily on their own, the sons and father would hunt as the mother would stay home. The creature never saw them as a threat, they only took what was needed to live, although it had no clue of why they settled in its home, it had no intentions or pushing them out.

Time passed, and although there had been trees cut and many animals killed, the creature still stayed peaceful, yet curious. Hundreds of animals killed hundreds of other animals, but there was still a balance, Trees fell, but they also grew back. It seemed like they were becoming a disruption.

The family had even started to farm, creating small areas to plow and grow food and vegetables of their own. The more they progressed, the more it began to feel more like it was the family's land than all of the other living things. The creature felt more and more pushed out of the forest.

It was wary of humans, it didn’t have a specific hatred towards them, but it knew that they had more resources, more ways to cause harm. But as the months went by, it became increasingly harder to avoid them, the sons were getting older, more adventurous.

It had been successful, not interacting with them, but it wasn’t lasting as the forced proximity became smaller and smaller. Sometimes, it would wait around the home, feeling the warmth of the fire inside, the family was happy, free where they were. It would hear them laugh together, sing together inside. It had never heard music before, but as it did, its ears twitched. It’s head would turn, invested in the sounds that it had never come across before, the plucking of the harp, the sweet sounds of the mother’s voice. It wasn’t sure of the song, nor the words, but the lack of awareness of the knowledge did not stop it from being moved by the emotion of the way she sang, the way she articulated the words so sweetly.

Every now or so, it would sneak close to the cottage in hopes it could hear her sing again, sometimes it would try and follow along, it only coming out as a moan or grumble, a monstrous sound that would alert the family, causing them to stop. The creature chose to sing along a bit more quietly after that.

It was only hunting, searching for mice. Chasing one across the forest ground, it scurried towards the home. Hungry, the creature ran after it still, following it.

It was early in the morning, they were unawake to the world as the sun began to rise over the horizon, the warmth of the orb coloring the earth a deep orange. Follwing it’s scent and the small squeaks it produced, the creature chased it along side the home. There was a small garden, protected by wire.

Slipping under, the small rodent was able to make its way into the gaurded area. Frustrated, the creature paced around the gate, occasionally stopping to jump up, clawing at the material. After a few minutes, it looked down to the small holes that other, smaller animals would make to crawl under.

Digging at the ground, it tried to dig something large enough it could fit under. Eventually, pleased with its work, it tried to fit its body below the wire, underestimating its size, the wire dug into its body, the iron material burning it. Letting out a loud, painful shreak, its hind legs kicked a the ground, trying to push its body through as the metal sizzled and scorched its skin.

Alerting the mother, she awoke. Startled by the screaming outside, the pregnant woman made her way to the backdoor of the home. Slowly opening it, she let out a scream of her own, staring at the wilted creature, panting and growling, trying to smell for the mouse, which was hidden away amongst the vegetation.

Catching her eyes, it stared at her, though it would not harm her, its ugly appearance and injuries made it all the more intimidating. Unsure what to do, the woman looked around, aware of what the creature was. “Tá sé a púca!” She exclaimed, rushing back inside.

Unsure what to do, the creature stayed still, it didn’t speak the language, it didn’t speak any language. Coming back, the woman had equipped a fire fork. Still yelling at it in a language it couldn’t grasp, it ran off, afraid of being burned again. It barely reacted to the agonizing pain of the wire as it slipped back out, scurrying into the forest.

Confused, it retreated, it hadn’t harmed the crops, the woman, or her baby, it almost felt guilty scaring her. It didn’t come back to listen to the music that night, or any nights after.

It stayed deep in the forest, away from any life other than what it originally knew, it continued its life normally. Naturally, it was more weary, afraid of how humans would act if it was found. Would they run? Attack? It wasn’t sure. It didn’t want to know.

Time continued to pass, though the family had grown, the sons were almost adults, the baby was born, and the creature stayed the same.

Searching for a meal, it scoured the forest. Meals were becoming harder to find, small prey were targeted by more predators as deer were slang for meat, and mice would choose to live near the home where food grew and was easy to access. It had become thin and weak. Most of the time, it took the form of a fox so it could hide from the sons when they would hunt.

As it chased a rabbit, it heard the sharp cries of a girl. Looking back in its own fear, a small child stood behind a boy, who was in shock as well. As if it were to assure them it wasn’t going to harm them, the creature let out a low gurgle of some kind. The boy’s face contorted with fear. The message wasn’t received, but it had no other way to try.

Reaching into his back pocket, he held out a spur as if it were a crucifix being held to a demon. Cowering, the creature steps back, its body letting out a low, wanring grumble. It could feel what the iron was capable of just by staring at it. The boy gripped it tighter, his eyes dark and mean as the girl clutched his trouser leg.

Not retaliating, they stared at each other. As the creature moved again, the boy struck it with the spur, the sharp spike puncturing, burning its thin skin. Screeching, it tried to escape, but the boy continued to whip its back with the object until it could finally get away, eyes watering from the blistering pain of its injuries.

Transforming into a small, brown fox, the wounds stayed, but it knew from that moment, it wasn't as safe as it was. Humans were scared of it, but are now away from it. They wanted to kill it. But, the creature didn’t want to die, didn’t want to be isolated. It needed to adapt.

Primarily choosing to be the fox, slowly, it’s original form changed, it’s body became more man than what it was. It grew genitals, thicker, white skin, a fatter body. He was forced to become one of them, it took decades to look human enough to start to walk amongst them, he even had to fight and kill a drunken man for clothing. But once it had to learn their language, it was surprising to find they no longer spoke the language he knew them to speak.

Taking notice of a name in the Bible, a tool he used to learn. He decided to call himself Andrew.

——————————————————

I bundled my coat to me as I walked down the cozy street, hot coffee in hand. The men who were supposed to help change the floorboards were taking a look at my house, so I decided to make a day out of it.

Dublin was beautiful, I was mesmerized with all of the old buildings, historical sites, I was a bit jealous that people were born here and I wasn’t. Catching my attention, I look to a building with clear windows in the front, I could see people walking inside looking at paintings. Happy to discover it was a local art exhibit, I look around myself.

Stopping, I admire a piece of a field of flowers labeled just Tuscany. My eyes trail over the intricate paint strokes along the yellow petals as a voice takes me out of my trance.

"Oh, that’s mine!” Turning around, I see a woman standing behind me. She had dark ebony skin and beautifully braided hair that was black and a gentle lilac.

I smile to her, finally happy to speak to someone within my age range. “Really? It’s gorgeous…” Looking back to the painting, I admire it again, the width the flowers spread out, the hills in the back. I wonder how a human was capable of this. “Did you visit Tuscany then?”

“I lived there for a bit, it’s probably one of the most magnificent places I’ve been.” I nod in agreement.

“Yeah, I mean, Italy is just so uniquely itself.” Pausing, I reach to shake her hand. “Sorry, hi, I’m Maisie!”

“Katie, it’s nice to meet you. Have you been in Ireland long?”

I was about to question her, but then I remembered my strikingly American accent. “Oh, yes, I moved here just a bit ago, still settling in.”

“Aye, settling in well then?”

“No, I mean, yes, I love it here!” I was a bit awkward, not knowing how to ask for a friend without being absolutely desperate. “I just haven’t…made many connections yet.”

Her mouth tightened, obviously feeling bad. “I get it, I’ve been a bit all over the continent. Say…I was going to get lunch soon anyway, want to come with me?”

I tried to stifle how absolutely excited I was to be asked that. “Really? Of course! I would love to.”

——————————————————

Over lunch, we both realize how much we have in common, both being artists. It was so nice, so human, to have someone who really gets what it’s like to be you right in front of you. It was a bit like exposure therapy, having to get to know someone new.

“Honestly though, my home is so weird! The whole area is!” I explain while chuckling as I discuss my floors.

“How?” Katie raised her brow, sipping her drink.

I shrug, poking my salad. “I don’t know how to explain, it’s just odd. There’s like an abundance of dead animals around my property…but they aren’t eaten, just killed. And it’s like every night or whenever they get placed there. And there’s also a fox who just won’t leave me alone! I mean… I feed it, but when I don’t, it just won’t go, and it would stress my dog out! And..god, I am about to sound insane…”

“Go on…”

“There’s this like…myth? Legend? Of this monster called a Púca, and they’re shapeshifting monsters who like to play tricks on humans and stuff….”

Her face clearly is unmoved but affectionate. “And who told you about this…’Púca’?”

“An older woman who knew my grandma…why?”

“I think they’re just trying to scare you, Maisie, I once walked into a faerie ring by accident, and well, I’m still here!”

I was a little embarrassed about how much I cared about the whole situation, I knew it was all my brain, but I was still anxious about it.

After paying our separate checks, we exchanged numbers and a promise that she would introduce me to people.

——————————————————

Staring at the wooden ceiling of the home he had attempted to build for himself, Andrew laid on the bed he would change every few decades with the small amounts of money he had. All he needed was the bed; he had a whole world he could freely use the restroom and hunt in as a fox.

He thought back to her. Her…Ma…May? …Maze?…Maisie….Maisie. He wasn’t sure. She seemed friendly to him in either form, but he couldn’t shake it, this family wouldn’t leave him alone.

He had nothing against Ireland, he couldn't blame them at all for escaping prosecution, but the treatment he faced lives on within him.

It seemed like for the past centuries, they just had to make sure that home stayed private property. It was a bit petty of him to hold on so long to it, but he didn’t have much in life except making people uncomfortable. That’s what he wanted to do—perhaps be the weird neighbor, scare her back to wherever she came from.

It was obvious he wouldn’t be able to ever make her feel welcome as a human, well, the most human he could be. He just didn’t care to socialize enough to know how. It was apart of him at this point.

He missed those months of bliss where he was alone, able to just play guitar on the steps of the house that no one lived in. The house that he hoped no one would ever live in again, not after this.

——————————————————————

I sigh, scooping food that Mary had brought for me into a bowl. While I appreciated the gesture, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that roast was not very vegetarian.

Humming to myself, I brought it back to the waiting fox, who sat politely at my door, it’s green eyes flashing again.

As it begins to eat, I sigh, Lenny lying down at my side. I knew it was wrong to feed it, that it would never leave, but it was pretty cute. As its neck was bent down, I frowned a bit at the scars along the back of the fox, burnt skin showing where fur once was. I wondered what type of sicko would hurt something this tame. Maybe it was hurt?

Either way, I’ve been looking forward to seeing it every night.

NOTE- SO EXCITED FOR THIS!! I will try to be consistent and write interesting chapters, we will get a real introduction to Andrew in the next chapter, I just wanted to introduce Maisie first and the setting. Please leave thoughts!

If you don’t know, a púca is a monster across European mythology that tends to be a shapeshifter, commonly taking form as a horse, goat, dog, cat, ect. They also take forms of humans which tend to have animalistic traits. They are known to play tricks on humans but never truly harm them. There’s a lot on them, so if you’re interested, I recommend looking into it. I am pretty consistent with the traditional idea of them but I will add my own elements as well. I will also explain any important information or facts if I feel is needed, feel free to ask as well! I am also not a historian or expert on Irish history so please correct me on anything, also there will be a consistent theme of anti-colonization but were all hozier fans here so that shouldn’t matter.

Tag list- @wolfe-houler @soft-dark-vintage-blog @no-one-anon @celery-grac @pinklunarprincess @l1nd3n

(ask to be added)

[slightlyhozy]

Kinktober is tempting me….

I don’t know if I have the power to do all the days but it looks like fun

[slightlyhozy]

Update on Púca Andy fic:

I am so sorry im taking so long 😢😢 i AM writing the next chapter, there is progress made, life is just hectic, If it isn’t out by monday/tuesday, yell at me. And, if anyone wants to be tagged when chapters come out, let me know !!

[slightlyhozy]

“Through the Cold, I’ll Find my Way Back to You.”

Chapter 2: “All my love and terror, balanced there between those eyes.”

Characters: Púca! Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Original Female Character

Summary: Maisie Quinn, after inheriting a home in Ireland from her late grandmother, slowly learns a dark past about the land in which it was built on.

Word Count - 2,098

Warnings - None except for animal death and descriptions of their bodies

A/N - I’m still learning how to write longer chapters, I will get better!

That day, I had looked into whatever the hell this Púca was. Seeing that it wasn’t necessarily a danger in any stories made my anxiety ease, which was a bit embarrassing since I didn’t even believe that it existed.

Closing my laptop, I looked around my new bedroom, the wooden floors were effortlessly dusty and cracked. Grunting, I opened my laptop again, in pursuit of finding someone in the area to install new flooring in certain rooms.

Settling was getting easier despite the fact Mary was the only person I really knew, On a good note, I already had a form in for a commission out in Dublin; they wanted me to paint a mural in the lobby of their office building. I figured the best way to go about living in a new country was to make connections anyway.

——————————————————————

That night, I lay with Lenny in my arms, surrounded by blankets, as some movie played. I pressed a kiss on his head as we cuddled. My mind kept drifting back to the monster, my mind constantly justifying why it wasn’t real; I knew it wasn’t real. I thought about the property and area surrounding it; there were never any bad vibes; it always seemed normal.

While thoughts scurried around my head, a familiar scratch caught me off guard, making me jump. The fox.

My head turned to the door, sighing, I was tempted to go and feed the fox. Thinking back to my conversation with Elsie, interfering with wildlife really wasn’t a good idea. I had just moved here, I should at least put the effort into making a good impression, if not to anyone in particular.

As my dog growled, his attention turned to the door, and I began to pet him in an attempt to calm him down. I understood he tended to be protective of me but never like this, over an animal. “Lenny, shhh.” Scratching behind his ears, he whimpered towards the door, moving to lay back beside me.

Trying to focus on the movie, I could hear the creature outside screaming for attention, it was borderline eerie. I continued to sit, it wasn’t my place to feed it, that was the fox’s job.

After ten minutes, I couldn't handle it anymore. Turning off the TV, I stood up and walked to the stairs, going up to my bedroom for the night.

——————————————————————

I grumbled, pulling weeds from the gravel of the garden. I had been at it for hours now, only joined by the sound of Van Morrison singing in my ears and the chirps of birds in the trees. Other than the labor, it was therapeutic.

Sitting back, I took a swig of water, looking around the garden. The weather had been nice, it was early September, so the weather had started getting colder than it was before. The sky was white, and the trees were less vibrant. As I pulled out the invasive plants, my eyebrows raised as my eyes fell on a small mouse.

The furry rodent in question was undoubtedly dead, but the only injury was a bloody wound on its side. As I continued to pull weeds, 3 more bodies were found. Initially, I believed that there was a cat that lurked in my garden, but then also the lack of injury or puncture to the bodies made no sense. I felt as though I was turning into a skeptic or just feeling the effects of my disorder. Before I could spiral, I was brought back to life by a bird call.

Looking up into the tree, I immediately recognized the black stripe along its eyes, much like a bandit’s mask. Oh. It was a shrike, I wasn’t even aware they had those in Ireland. Internally, I thanked myself for having a bird phase, otherwise, I would be sent into a phase of paranoia over dead mice. Still, I was puzzled around the fact that the mice weren’t eaten, simply impaled, then dropped.

I wasn’t too sure what could be wrong with the animals in the area, perhaps there’s a disease spreading amongst species. I wasn’t informed enough to really have a clue, but it was almost creepy.

While I pondered, another bird flew next to perch beside the shrike. After a moment, the two began to squawk and fight with eachother, their beaks clashing. Not being interested in watching what could happen to the smaller bird picking a fight with a brutal predator, I collected my garden tools and water bottle, making my way back to the house.

Lenny was sniffing around the yard as I cleared out the mouse corpses, like I had the other animal on my porch. The sun was slowly setting, and all I could think about was getting a proper drink and starting on a personal art project, the subject of which is still a mystery to me.

——————————————————————

Over the next few nights, the fox seemed to only get more aggressive. I frowned as I stared at my front door, this time, a dead rabbit was left. Did it think that I ran out of food? The rabbit itself would be unedible if I even wanted to eat it, it was completely squished, presumably roadkill. The wood along the door had been scratched, deep. A shiver ran up my spine as my finger reached out to trace the marks, the light inner wood going about half an inch deep. I wasn’t even sure how it was possible, but I also knew that I would now have to invest in new flooring and a door.

I was a bit worried that it would attack me if I didn’t feed it; with no evidence to back this up, any creak or sound outside would make me jump. When I slept, I dreamt of it attacking me or Lenny. So now, after three nights of ignoring the animal, I decided to give in.

It was almost one in the morning, finally, my couch had been installed, freeing me from the pain of having to haul my long limbs off the ground. With a small tub of ice cream in my hand, I was binge-watching Breaking Bad. The sound of Walter White monologing went through one ear, out the other as I anxiously awaited the arrival of the fox. I was almost worried it wouldn’t come. Why was I worried? Why wouldn’t I want it gone?

As if it were summoned, a familiar squaking woke me from my thoughts, immediately sending me to pause my show and put my ice cream somewhere Lenny couldn’t reach. I shushed him with my finger to my lips. As I went to look through the window. To my expectations, the small animal stood on the top of the steps, its green eyes gleaming under the poarch light.

Afraid of any chances of Lenny putting himself in danger, I led the dog to the study, shutting him inside, the door muffling his barks and growls.

In the kitchen, I worked to fix a wet bowl of dog food and a scoop of pumpkin purée on top. Opening the door, the fox stood expectantly. I set the bowl down, quickly moving to shut the glass door so I could see it eat. Again, it’s eyes stalked me as it ate eagerly, as if I had starved it. Perhaps it couldn’t hunt, wouldn’t…? If it couldn’t, where were these dead animals coming from?

——————————————————————

Fresh air. Fresh air was what I needed, space, was what I needed.

The morning after the encounter with the fox, I decided to go to the beach with Lenny. Throwing on a grey knit sweater, black jeans, boots, and a beanie, I clip on Lenny’s leash, his tail wagging faster than it had in a long time. As I go outside, I make sure to clean up the brutalized hedgehog left on my porch, the guts splattered across my porch. As I cleaned up the insides, visibly unhappy, I simultaneously fought Lenny back from eating it.

Smelling the sea was a specific kind of nostalgia, the beach itself wasn’t too different than some back in Washington. The air kisses my cheeks as I fight it, the clashing waves soothing my ears. I clutched the leash, hoping he wouldn’t try and run along the beach.

I felt grateful that there was no one in the morning, just me, my coffee, and my dog. I wonder if I was becoming a loner, back home, I seemed to be going out every day, with friends and making them as well. Now, all I had available was Mary. As much as I enjoyed some alone time, I wondered how long it would take until it became too lonely for me, I wondered how long it would be until I found a routine with my work, more clients, and when I would meet local artists.

Taking in the scent again, I closed my eyes, the cool wind making me feel more grounded and alive than I had in a year. Keeping them closed, I continued to walk into what seemed to be a never-ending path, curving around the water.

As if enjoying my solitude was too much, my eyes scrunched up as my shoulder was bumped. My eyes shot open as I helplessly watched my coffee cup fall against the sand, the contents leaking into the grains. Lenny immediately went to investigate, sniffing and licking the spill.

After picking up the cup, I look up the figure that disrupted my walk. He was tall. Around 9 inches taller than me, his nose and cheeks were a dusty pink from the cold, the coloration obvious from the cold weather.

His beard was nicely groomed, but his hair was messy and greasy.  Above his pronounced cheekbone, there was a small, healing cut across the skin. His eyes were cold and endless, not kind but not uninviting. Where the hell did he even come from?

“Sorry… Uh, I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t too sure why I was apologizing, according to my therapist, it was one of my weakest traits. The stranger stepped back, sizing me up.

He didn’t reply, I could hear Lenny by my side, growling lowly. “Really, sorry, he’s just protective... I promise he’s a good dog.”

“It’s alright.” His voice was deep, rich, and smooth like honey, he was hansome in general, just unsettling. He brushed a gloved hand through his brown curls, his green eyes following me.

I wasn’t sure what to do, I was pretty desperate for interactions, and he only seemed 10 years older than me at most. “Nice weather?” I cringed at my terrible use of small talk.

“Alright. Cold.”

“I mean, it usually is... cold.” Awkwardly, I itched at my neck, unsure what to do. “I’m Maisie.” I held my hand out, his eyes just darting to stare at it, not accepting it.

“Andrew. Are you American?”

I swallowed nervously, I didn’t want to come off as an uneducated, arrogant American prick. “Uh, well, yes, I just moved in... I live over..east..” My arm extended to point towards my home.

“I know.” My face immediately grew concerned, he knew? How?

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t reply.

“Andrew… Do you live around here? Or do you like, drive down here for walks.” His brows furrow, as if I were asking something invasive.

“I live near here, I like water.” His hand reaches up to scratch at the scab forming on his face, I notice how one of his glove fingers has the tip torn off.

I nod along awkwardly, maybe he didn’t get out much? “Yeah, me too... It’s nice to live this close to the ocean.” He doesn't answer again. “I lived in Seattle, so I was really far away from the ocean, sometimes, we’d go visit family on the coast.”

His brows furrow. “Where’s that?”

“Washington? Uh, it’s in the Pacific Northwest of America; Kurt Cobain was born there.” He seemed clueless. “Oh…” My face furrows with concern as I see blood, almost black, start to drip down his face. “You…your scab… It’s kind of..” I try to point it out casually, not trying to be rude.

Moving his hand away, Andrew moves to lick his finger, his brows raising. “Oh,” He doesn’t seem too concerned with the color of his blood as he observes it. “Habit.”

“Right,” As I am about to speak more, my phone rings—the flooring installers I had been talking to. “Oh, sorry, I need to take this.” I whisper to him as I back up, pressing my phone to my ear. He just gives me a weak wave as I turn away, waiting for my turn in the cue.

As I turned back around not even a minute later to say goodbye, he was gone. Andrew. The weirdest and one of the rudest men I had ever met.

A/N: ANDREW DOESNT STAY LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TIME I PROMISE HE ISNT BORING

[slightlyhozy]

“Through the Cold, I’ll Find my Way Back to You” || Chapter One - “Honey, Don’t Feed it, it Will Come Back.”

Characters - Púca! Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Original Female Character

Summary - Maisie Quinn, after inheriting a home in Ireland from her late grandmother, slowly learns a dark past about the land in which it was built on.

Word Count - 2,184

Warnings - Nothing for this chapter other than light animal death!

A/N - SO EXCITED FOR THIS!! I will try to be consistent and write interesting chapters, we will get a real introduction to Andrew in the next chapter, I just wanted to introduce Maisie first and the setting. Please leave thoughts!

If you don’t know, a púca is a monster across European mythology that tends to be a shapeshifter, commonly taking form as a horse, goat, dog, cat, ect. They also take forms of humans which tend to have animalistic traits. They are known to play tricks on humans but never truly harm them. There’s a lot on them, so if you’re interested, I recommend looking into it. I am pretty consistent with the traditional idea of them but I will add my own elements as well. I will also explain any important information or facts if I feel is needed, feel free to ask as well!

“What’re you doing now?” I can hear Elsie snacking on carrots through the phone.

I sigh, hauling another box off of another, using my earbuds, we had been able to call all day despite the time difference. “Right now,” I grunt, setting the box on the ground, moving to search for my box cutter. “I am unpacking everything for the studio…” The room in question was a beautiful conservatory with beautiful glass windows curving upward. Outside, bushes with thorns and small berries could be seen, desperately in need of a trim.

“How different is it over there? I mean, you must’ve noticed something by now.”

“Well,” I huff, stepping back to appreciate the natural light coming into the room. “I live 40 minutes from Wicklow, which is nice…But I do miss the city already; it feels all so stretched out now.” It was terribly ironic of me to complain about Europe being big in comparison to America, but after being raised in downtown Seattle all my life, to be thrown into a village where I have to drive to get my groceries was different.

“We miss you.” Elsie pouted. “Who’s going to bring disgusting vegan dishes to every game night?”

I let out a laugh straight from my chest. “Sorry, babe, you just need to find another pretentious vegetarian then.”

Carefully, I pulled out my easels and canvases I hadn’t used yet. The room was mostly boxes, with only two work benches being built and a random spinny chair thrown out. Making this house look like the ones on Pinterest was going to be a process.

“Say, are you and Lydia going to be able to make up here for Christmas?" I ask, fighting the wooden easel to unfold.

I can hear her hiss, disappointment sinking in. “I… I don’t know, May…It’s just…busy right now. You know, if we can’t this time, we just will come up for our anniversary! We’ve always wanted to go to Ireland.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” My voice came out a bit more upset than I hoped, and I could feel the burning in my eyes, a small sniffle escaping me.

“Maisie..” Elsie said sweetly, making me butt in immediately.

“No! No, it’s ok. I get it. You two are working…married, busy, have all your friends there, it’s fine.” I hated how I reacted—so reminiscent of a child, I didn’t even notice the tears on my face.

“Maisie, I…” She paused, seemingly looking for the right words. “It’s going to be hard for a while, ok? But you’ll make lots of friends! And we will still talk every day, ok? Don't feel bad because you’re upset; it’s okay to be upset.”

“I know, thank you.”

I had moved from Seattle to New Castle, County Wicklow, a few weeks ago. A year before that, my grandma had died, who, other than Elsie, had been my best friend. The loss still hurt, but hopefully something good was coming out of it. In her will, I was left to this beautiful property near Greystones. The house itself was pretty humble but charming and well kept. The garden was very large yet outgrown. After living in the hustle and bustle of a city like Seattle, I needed this, something different, it was like she knew.

My grandma inherited the house from her grandmother, who’s grandmother owned the home before the "famine." My Irish family had left Ireland some time in the 1840s to New York, where we eventually found ourselves in Washington. Thinking back on how hard it had to have been to just be Irish in either country made me a bit proud to find myself back at this house, just like how the women before me wanted.

While modest, the home was well built and was a good distance from the beach, which I had been utilizing for walking Lenny. Since the 80s, our richer part of the family had used it for a vacation home, but as my grandmother got older, the only thing she made sure of the home was keeping it clean, despite the fact it was empty now.

——————————————————————

A while later, still unpacking, now in the kitchen, Lenny began doing circles around the kitchen, licking at my leg. “Shit, you’re out of dog food.” I whispered to myself, leaning down to pat his head. Now that I had actual utensils, pots, and dishes, I could finally move on from adapting to their version of Chinese takeout and cook myself a proper meal.

At the grocery store, I spent a lengthy time deciding which shape of pasta was the most appealing.

In my pasta-induced haze, a voice broke me out of it. “Gosh, you look just like her, all grown up.” I turn my head to see an older woman, around 70 or so, smiling up at me.

“Oh, did you…”

“Know Evelyn? Of course, I met you when you were just a wain.” Heat rose to my cheeks, It was always embarrassing to meet someone who knew you from your family in public. All I could think about was getting out of it. “I saw your…pictures on Facebook, and I mean, it was identical until…”

My hand instinctively went up to my head. “Oh? My hair? Yeah, uh, I mean, at least it’s going to a good place.” A few months ago, I had completely cut off the long hair I had growing down near my waist into a pixie cut; liking how it’s growing out, I plan to keep it.

“Such a shame what happened.” The older woman shook her head. “She was a good woman, ye grandmother.”

Awkwardly, I nodded along.

“Nice to see the property put to use, I hope the stories don’t get to you though.” That caught my attention.

“Stories?”

“Oh? You don’t know? There’s a saying that hundreds of years ago, when your family bought the land, it belonged to a monster…called a púca…Something about it torments the humans who lived on the land in an attempt to scare them off.” A small giggle escaped me; I was no stranger to legends and myths.

“It’s all coincidences though; lots of dead animals are found near the property; I’ve never heard of any real trouble happening.” She smiled sweetly. “God is on your side.” Obviously, being a devote atheist for over 10 years, I had no real fear of any monsters.

“Oh!” The woman beamed, reaching into her purse for a pen and notepad. “Here’s my number if you need anything, love, just a call away.” I watched as her shaky hands scribbled down her home phone, pressing it into my hands. Mary.

“Thank you, Mary; I’ll be sure to get in touch.” I smile as we part, my mind drifting back to the word. Púca… It sounded like puta. I stifled back a laugh.

——————————————————————

Later that night, while Lenny was eating out of his dog bowl in the kitchen, I guarded my large bowl of pasta on the makeshift pillow-blanket couch I had crafted for myself. I sighed softly, checking my phone every minute in case someone wanted to ask me how I was or send me a funny video. Instead, I sat alone in the room, rewatching episodes of Gilmore Girls until there was nothing left in my bowl.

As I washed out my bowl, laying it on the rack, Lenny ran around my legs with a toy, eagerly waiting for me to throw it across the house for him. I smiled fondly down at my boy, the only thing keeping me from losing my mind. “Hey boy, want me to throw it?” I cooed at him, kneeling down to his level, excited by my tone. He wagged his tail and did circles, coming back to me with the small rope. Taking it, I tossed it across the floor, enjoying his nails scraping the tiles as he ran towards it, prompting returning it.

After a few rounds of this, a scratch on the door caught my attention, causing my brow to raise and my anxiety to heighten. It’s fine. I thought to myself, tossing the toy again, watching him retrieve it. It could be anything. Anything? Like a…no. Stop. Wiping my face, I waited for Lenny to come back. As he trotted to me, the scratching was louder, more aggressive.

Setting him off, the small retriever began to bark at the door, his little body jumping back each time. Shushing him, I walked to the window, looking out; there was nothing I could see. Púca. I scoffed, shaking my head; it was just my brain. I took a deep breath, opening the door slowly, unreasonably anxious about what I might see.

As I did, my leg instinctively went to barricade the door, Lenny barking at the small creature in front of me. I didn’t know how to react to the fox in front of me; it stepped back slowly, looking at me, making sad chirp-like sounds. My brows furrowed at the sight. “Ok…” I drifted off; my initial thought was that the animal was hurt, but the way it walked around my patio indicated otherwise. Perhaps whoever took care of the house before fed it, but it hadn’t come before.

Being a natural animal lover and suck up, I close only the glass door, letting me see him still. The fox pranced around still before sitting down in front of the door, clearly with no intention of leaving. Lenny stood, his tail high on alert. “Lenny!” I called out disapprovingly as I heard his familiar low growls. In a small bowl, I scooped some of his food with a few pieces of left-over pasta on top.

Laying the bowl down, I went back inside; even if it wasn’t aggressive, I didn’t want to invade its space, even if I was guilty of interfering with nature in the first place. My eyes drifted over the animal’s fur; it was a warm brown all around, and the ears and feet were black. Under the jaw and belly of the fox, the fur was white, as was the tip of its tail. Mostly, I was looking for signs of mange—anything to indicate it was sick. On cue, it looked up; the way its green eyes flashed at me caused my face to stiffen as I saw the reflection of light in it’s eyes. I looked back; there was no light to cause the eye to shine, and as I looked back, it was gone. The house was silent except for the low growling of my dog and the crunching of the fox’s feast.

——————————————————————

“It was so weird!” I complained to Elsie over the phone, clutching my colorful robe, tea in the other hand.

“Maisie, usually you make amazing choices, but this was dumb.” She said it matter-of-factly.

I shake my head, pacing around the cold floor. “How? It was hungry, Elsie; what was I supposed to do? Let it starve.”

“No, you’re supposed to call the Irish Animal Control, obviously. It could have had rabies.”

“Rabies? I don’t think so.” I chuckled, so sure of myself. “It wasn’t like…foaming at the mouth or aggressive.”

“Maisie, when animals have like…early rabies or something, they act oddly tolerant to humans, was there mange? Was it dehydrated or anything?”

“No… It looked really healthy, actually. It just wanted food; no one got bit, no one got hurt. Elsie, It isn’t that big of a deal; it’s a one-time thing.”

I heard a deep, disappointed sigh escape her. “Maybe you should’ve been raised in the mountains…Look, when you feed animals, they expect that you will give them food; they’ll come back. When I was little, growing in Bend, I accidentally fed a raccoon once, and she brought generations of baby raccoons for years.”

Walking to my porch, wanting to enjoy my tea with the cool air, I open the door. “If it comes back, I just won’t feed it; I learned my lesson, ok.” My eyes immediately drifted down in front of me.

“Maisie?”

“Uh, sorry…” Carefully, I set my tea on the railing. On the concrete, I stared at a small rodent in front of me, absolutely gutted. “There is a mutilated mouse on my porch.” I said breathlessly, always hurt by any dead animals.

“Oh, see! Now it’s rewarding you!” She complained over the phone as I stayed silent.

“Do you think they’re like cats? Like, they’ll bring you dead stuff because they think you stink at hunting or something…” I wasn’t too sure what to do with the body.

“I don’t know,” Elsie said flatly. “What I do know is that you should stop feeding it; just for your and Lenny’s sake, I don’t want you calling me at 3 am because you have to get rabie shots in your ass, ok?” On my side of the phone, I nodded, immediately looking for a reason to hang up. “Oh shit, it’s already so late, ok, Maisie, I love you; I’ll call you later, ok?” Thank god. Is all I could think.

After using a poop bag to toss the animal into the outside bins, I went to pull out my laptop, pulling up my laptop and searching: What is a Púca?

[slightlyhozy]

Púca Andy??

If I attempted at a story where Andrew was a Púca that lived in a forest, and the main character was a woman that recently moved into the rural countryside of Ireland, would people be into that? I know there’s a gross thing around making him out to be a fairy creature/fae/forest god but I’m not trying to do that 😭 I like the idea of shapeshifting andy as a fox…also, this mainly comes from it will come back since he basically sings of being an animal that is fed once, so he returns to be fed again. So, do we want some feral andy with a touch of Irish mythology

I PROMISE I HAVE A FIC IN THE WORKS RN!!

[slightlyhozy]

Does anyone have any Hozier smut suggestions, I know asked for them before but I’m being fr this time cause although it doesnt do anything for me in that area, it helps me destress and think of something else for once

[slightlyhozy]

“Smooth Operator…” (18+)

Characters - Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Female! Reader (No use of y/n)

Summary - Andrew and you try something new! Based off the ominous room picture on his story

Word Count - 910

Warnings/tags - SMUT, just smut. Subby Andy, mentioned dom Andy, vibrators, scent kink? kinda? femdom, overstimulation? teasing, aftercare, safe words, CONSENT IS KEY!! literally no plot, nothing at all

A/N - if youre a man and anything is wrong, let me know !! i hope you guys enjoy this, i havent written in years. had a lot of fun writing it ngl. This is fiction…fortunately, I do not know AHB irl or else id never be able to look him in the eyes

(Me skedaddling in shame ↓)

Her hand trailed down his chest, fingers brushing the curls along his broad chest. A sharp gasp escaped him. "Fuck," Andrew murmured, his eyes fluttering open to meet hers; his eyes were hazy. The taller tended to be more dominant in the bedroom, always setting the pace, making her feel good.

“So pretty…” Her voice was soft, her legs straddling his hips. Recently, he had suggested that they try something new after she accidentally came across a familiar device in his possession. He was humiliated, but she couldn’t deny how it turned her on, imaging him using it thinking of her. It was a simple plug-in Hitachi wand; her initial reaction was that he was seeing someone else, but the look in his eyes when she confronted him said otherwise.

Continuing her ministrations, her lips pressed against one of the small buds of his chest, her other hand reaching for the turned-off device on the side of the bed. The coolness of the plastic sent a shiver down his spine as she wrapped her fingers around it. A wet tongue began to swirl around his nipple, gently nipping and sucking as she turned on the vibrator to the lowest setting. “Oh…” Andrew gasped out as she trailed the bulb along his soft stomach. Detaching from his chest, the woman pressed her nose into his chest hair, taking in his musky, familiar scent as she moved the wand down his abdomen.

The anticipation was thick in the air, and Andrew’s body quivered with need. She knew exactly how to work him up and clearly loved the effect she had on him. His eyes followed her hand as it approached the junction of his thighs, his cock standing at full attention through his boxers, begging for her touch. The vibrations grew stronger, and she brought the tip of the wand closer to where he needed it, watching muscles tighten with every pulse. Moving up a setting, his breath hitched as she traced it along his thighs, causing his legs to open.

Clicking her tongue, she smirked. “So needy, Andy... I haven’t touched you, and you’re hard as shit.” Setting down the wand, the other helped him out of his boxers; his cock was long, red, and throbbing with need.

“You’re teasing me.” He argued, trying not to squirm as her hands rubbed along his smooth, pale thighs.

A laugh escaped her mouth as she moved up to kiss him on his lips. “Now you get how I feel.” The kiss grew deeper, her tongue running along his to his teeth, tracing along the underside of his upper lip, gently biting it, eliciting a soft groan from her lover.

Picking the wand back up, she turned it back to the lowest setting. Tracing along his hip bones, pelvis, and inner thighs, she sucked hickeys to his ribs and stomach, her other hand rubbing along his side. She continued this until a grumble of desperation interrupted her. Slowly, he took his poor cock into her hand, warm and heavy.

With the device, she rubbed it along the underside of his cock, causing him to gasp. “Oh, fuck!” His hands gripped the sheets as a shaky breath escaped him, the sensation more overwhelming than he thought it would be.

“Color?” The woman asked cautiously, moving away the Hitachi, only making the tall man cry in need.

His face was flushed as his chest rose and fell. “Green,” Andrew said desperately. “Don’t stop…please…” 

A smirk returned to her face as she continued her actions, rubbing closer to his leaking tip, which made him cry. “Not going to lie, Andrew,” She chuckled softly as he writhed beneath her. “I kind of like you this way, all needy for me.” It was entertaining to see how he felt the same way he made her feel, like cumming was the only thing that mattered. 

As the setting went up, so did the intensity. Tears pricked his eyes as she drew the bulb near his balls. His knuckles were white from how hard he gripped the blankets, trying not to intervene. “Please…” The Irishman begged, now reduced to a mess of cries and pleas of mercy.

“Please, what?” She played dumb, moving back near his tip. From how stiff he was, she knew he was close; no matter how much she liked how needy he was, she would feel cruel to edge him for too long, at least for now.

He groaned in frustration, readjusting, trying to make the angle better. “Please? Please, can I cum? Please let me cum, baby.” Obeying his wishes, her hand gripped his length, stroking him as she kept the device on the tip of his cock.

After a few more moments, his body completely became tense, his moans growing louder as he pressed his red face into the pillow, sobbing out with pleasure as white ropes of cum shot out of his abused length. Setting down the vibrator, she stroked him through his orgasm, savoring every sound and every breath. 

She gave him a moment to recover, leaving to the bathroom to grab a wet towel to wipe him down. “I think that was one of the sexiest things I have ever seen.” She chuckled, wiping sweat from his forehead before moving to wipe the seed off his belly and chest.

With a sleepy nod, Andrew met her with a dopey smile. “Agreed, we are definitely doing that again.” He chuckled, kissing her sweetly.

[slightlyhozy]

After this story incident, I am tempted to write Andrew having a vibrator used on him/him using one on himself 🤨 thoughts? prayers?

[slightlyhozy]

I want to write Hozier fics but I’m lacking prompts 😞 Please leave ideas or fantasies you really wanna see for me and I’ll try!

nsfw, fluff, angst, anything really is alright, if I am uncomfortable with it, I just won’t engage so shoot your shot with whatever