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#lily rabe x reader
sawyerconfort · 10 months
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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 · 1 year
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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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lotties-ashwagandha · 2 years
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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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braidlottie · 2 years
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request your favorite fics that you would like me to put on ao3 bc i’m gonna archive all of my posts soon :)
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Mary Eunice Masterlist
none yet!
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betchiwilleatyou · 2 years
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hello here is 15k words of emma smut 🤭🤭
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kaiscumsock · 1 year
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evan peters airport aesthetic
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ofc-fics · 5 months
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Our Tribe (Misty Day)
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You were 21 when you first died. You had the ability to help plants grow and, when your parents found out, they tied you up and left you in the woods. That night, you were scared to death, somehow scared off all the animals, thank God. But the low temperature sunk into your skin. You were dead but fully intact. That's how she found you. 
You woke up warm and naked and in a bed with Stevie Nicks playing somewhere behind you. Slowly sitting up, you held the blanket to conceal your modesty. You looked around the very small cottage. How could you tell it was small from a single room? Well, because everything was in this room and there were two doors to outside. You searched for any semblance of your clothes, but no luck. With no other choice, you stood with only a duvet as cover. You made for the dresser you could see, but a blonde stepped into the shack. 
She was very pretty with long, blonde curly hair and very loose clothes. "Ooh!" she huffed once seeing you up and moving. "You shouldn't be outta bed," she tried to scold. Rushing to you, the young woman took your biceps. "You only died a few hours ago. Let your body catch up. It's been through a lot."
You weren't the obedient sort, especially, around strangers. But the hippie in a short dress was stubborn too, and strong, you noted as she brought you back to the bed. You weren't entirely uncooperative, mostly out of it. 
"Good girl," the hippie cooed, grabbing your ankles to prop you all the way up. "Hope you don't mind sharin'. It's my bed, after all." She smiled at you, all heart and kinda kooky like her. "I'm Misty." She held out a hand.
You were hesitant, but you shook her hand and gave your name. 
"Pretty name for a pretty girl. I was shocked to see such a prize all alone. You were frozen solid which is weird cuz it doesn't get that cold in one night, certainly not in Louisiana."
You swallowed, and thought. Why would you need to swallow if you didn't know? Did you do something bad? "I was... tired. Of hiding. Of fighting. I wanted to be done."
Misty's face wrinkled. She hated that for you. Taking your hands, the hippie vowed, "You never have to be done again. We can look out for each other. I died too. I never bothered to hide so they all saw how I was different. How different I am. They tied me up and set me on fire."
You stared, aghast any would dare to harm a young woman so innocent and kind. You wondered if the Salem Witch trials worked the same way. 
"And, well. You don't have anywhere to go. You could stay."
You stared before a faint smile spread across your features. "Thank you," you bade. 
Misty gave you a relieved smile. "Oh!" she squeaked, unable to express her many feelings in words. She was glad of the solution to her loneliness. More than that, Misty could tell you were a kindred spirit. "Good. But you have to sleep now."
You just about pouted, trying to drag the blankets back, but the blonde was strong and she glared at you with the same ferocity with which she held the covers over you 
"Stop that now," Misty commanded sternly. 
The pained discomfort didn't leave your face. Rather, you turned away from your rescuer. If this was the result, you'd rather not be resurrected. You didn't like helplessness or needing help. You didn't want to stay still or lie down. 
The blonde pulled a sympathetic stare and climbed into the bed - her bed - to lay beside you. Taking you into her arms, the kind woman empathized. "Oh, darlin'. It's not for long. Just until you're well again. It shouldn't be any time at all. You know, when I was healing you, I could feel you fightin' to come back. You're just as strong as me." While Misty didn't consider her resurrection her strength, she knew it made her stand out. She didn't know it yet but you stood out too and your strength wasn't the only thing you shared. 
*
She was right. You hardly needed more than a day before you were back to full strength. You overestimated yourself when Misty had gone who knew where. She wasn't around and you had to pee. You tried to lug yourself to the toilet, but the weakness won and next came the humiliation. Misty gave you a bath, ignored your tears, comforting you once you'd allow her to. She apologized for being gone when you needed her and you fell asleep, looking at one another as you shared a bed. 
Now, you sat on the wood planks enclosing her garden, plucking only what could be consumed. The blonde witch was so busy with her radio, she failed to notice the rest of her garden entering full bloom. It was only when she went to start watering that she paused. You noticed none of this, eyes glued to the Nicks impersonator. "Hey, now. How did this happen?"
You didn't have an answer, not one that you understood. Not 20 minutes later, you were traversing the lawn, returning to the shack and Misty saw her answer. As you walked, blades of grass and flowers sprouted 6 inches from where your foot planted. She didn't say anything as she didn't know if you knew. But if anyone knew about mysterious abilities, it was her. And she knew better than most experienced witches how not understanding your power can make it so much better. Over the weeks of your co-habitation, Misty saw how none of the plants died in her garden, any picked grew back that same day, and really everything in the area was more pure. Misty felt so complete with you, like pieces of a puzzle. 
You came to a very similar conclusion. There was very little to do in the swamp besides talking to one another, hunting herbs or hunters, and caring for the grounds. You slept in the same bed each night, chasing away the chill and the nightmares. Each morning, you woke, ate, then went to the garden. You two had much more you could do since there was so much less time between harvests. You enjoyed the variety of plants, as well as experimenting for what they did. 
You stopped in the middle of weeding when you saw a particular design on petals. "Where did you get those?" you asked Misty of the purple flower. 
The curly blonde leveled out the pitcher she used to water the garden. With her broad hat shielding her face, Misty turned to face you. "Out in the swamp."
It seemed like a simple answer, but you knew that species only grew in dry climates. Ironic that it clots blood really well. You didn't say anything else, for what did you really know? Misty could resurrect the dead and you could restore a clipped herb, grow vines from nothing. 
Someone else knew. This girl knew all about Misty and her power. Resurgence she called it. She didn't have a word for yours, but she said that just meant you had flown under the coven's radar. But she had needs and desires and favors to ask. Misty fixed her boyfriend the night she first kissed you. You walked together to help and treat all illnesses not strictly fatal. 
Your herbs and combined medical knowledge made you a force to be reckoned with. And your emotions made your bond unbreakable. You often spoke your secret truths in bed but Kyle was using it so you refused to. Misty didn't see the problem at first. When she better understood men and their basic natures, she rejoined you. You slept under the stars with the promise of a clear night. Wrapped in each others' arms, you only had to whisper. "Ever heard of Conservation of Energy?" you asked against her collarbone. 
Misty silently shook her head. 
"Says nothing's truly gone and nothing comes from nothing." You yawned. "Been thinkin'." That statement gave your girlfriend chills, but you kept going, easing those insecurities without even trying. "That girl... She said you bring the dead back . It sounds impossible, but too simple. You can't just put someone back where nothing is. And the plants. You don't bring them back, but they change, evolve. They're developing new capabilities each generation. That's not me. So I think you just... change things. You keep them going you know?"
She didn't. Not really. Your philosophical babblings always confused the blonde, but she was happy to listen. "Are you gonna change?"
You smiled despite your shut eyes. Your face smushed against nature's pillow, slowly melting into her beneath you. "Everyone changes. Even you. It's evolution. But love stays love." You index tiredly tapped her chest. 
It warmed Mist's heart and excited her. You said the 'L' word. She'd truly found her tribe. In a quick move, she ducked down and pressed her lips to your limp ones. Your eyes fought to open and you met her surprised gaze, puckering back. 
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hausbabylon · 7 months
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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akillerbeforeyou · 24 days
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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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sunflowerharrington · 2 years
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Dress.
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i am so nervous to post this one 🫣 please don’t call the feds! i am so so sorry if i haven’t represented male to female girlies properly but i tried. not one story is the same, and so this is just what i think kyle would do and how she would go about finding herself :)
pairing(s): madison x kyle friendship, kyle x reader relationship
words: 1395
summary: madison and kyle have a little talk. also, these asks;
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notes: kyle uses they/them pronouns in the beginning, and then they switch to she/they.
i am not transgender. and i’m genuinely so sorry if this is really bad representation, but i wanted to make anon happy. i really hope i haven’t fucked up again and i understand if you send me hate because of this. i just want to make people happy, not sad 😭
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Kyle was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, with you curled up in a ball against them, your hand on their chest. They blinked once, and then again, and again; it was the only sound in the quiet room other than your soft breathing as you drifted in and out of your slumber.
They were ready.
Kyle lifted the covers off of themself, making sure not to make you cold with their movements, replacing their body with a pillow, which you immediately curled against.
“My p- p…retty, … Pretty Girl,” Kyle cooed, pressing a soft, sloppy kiss to your temple, and you smiled in your sleep, making their heart swell.
Kyle found themself walking over to your mirror, looking themself up and down, in their black sweater and matching black pants. They made a face of disgust at themself, until a thought flashed in their mind. Madison. Her pretty, shiny heels. Her blue dress. Her long, blonde hair. And her pretty makeup.
“Girl… Pretty girl,” Kyle said, slowly, quietly so as to not wake you up.
Their routine went pretty similar to this every Sunday evening; looking at themself in the mirror until they cried. They just didn’t feel… right. Nothing felt right to them. Their body, their mindset, their everything.
It had been going on for a while now, approximately five months, and you just thought it was your partner doing what partners do; stealing their girlfriend’s clothes as a memory. But it was so much more, so much more complex than that. To Kyle anyways.
They didn’t know how to handle their feelings, or how when they looked down at themself, they didn’t feel right, or beautiful. Even your countless reassurances couldn’t stop Kyle from feeling like they were… In the wrong body, to put it bluntly.
And so they found themself rooting through your drawers as you slept, finally working up enough courage to hold clothes which were supposedly meant for girls only in their hands, grinning at the garments.
They held the dress up to their body in the mirror, before stripping down as quietly and fast as they could, pulling the dress on in the way they saw you wearing it. Or the way they remembered. Kyle gazed in awe at the silver sparkles glittering on the sheer dress from the overhead light in your shared bedroom, and it made them feel powerful. Beautiful. A surge of serotonin shot through them, and they beamed, twirling once around in the mirror, watching the patterns on the wall move as they moved, the sequins bouncing light onto the walls.
“Pretty… girl. N- not… a… boy…”
Kyle couldn’t contain the smile growing on their face, and they slipped their own clothes back on over your dress, wanting to wear it for the rest of the day. Wanting to feel beautiful, just like their pretty girl.
A knock on the door startled them, though they breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that it was Cordelia. They fixed the collar of their shirt, hiding the sparkles beneath it, gulping unintentionally loudly as she came towards them. And they tried to act like nothing was wrong.
In their mind what they were doing was wrong.
“Is Y/N asleep?” Cordelia asked softly, pointing over to your resting body, and Kyle frantically nodded, their heart beating wildly in their chest.
“S- Sleeping,” they said, and thankfully Cordelia left shortly after that, giving Kyle a perfect smile as she departed.
Kyle resumed twirling around in the mirror, the way they saw Misty doing it the other night, looking at the shiny patterns the sequins on your dress made on the wall as they moved, after they had opened their shirt again.
From downstairs they could hear that Madison and Nan had arrived back from ‘terrorizing’ the Karen next door with the cute son, Luke, or something. Kyle never caught his name properly, and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t remember.
“There are clothes everywhere in here, Y/N!” Madison scoffed as she entered the room, stopping to look at Kyle, who had frozen in place. “Silver is not your colour, Barbie doll. Try blue, …it’ll bring out your eyes.”
Kyle’s mouth fell open in shock; she wasn’t at all mad that Kyle was wearing one of her dresses? Her most prized possessions? Madison wasn’t mad that they were wearing so-called “girl’s” clothes?
“M- M- Madison?”
Madison sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned around. “What, Kyle?”
“Y- you’re… not mad… at… me?” The words barely came out, almost mouthing the words to her, and Madison smiled. It was one of the first times Kyle saw Madison smile.
“I’m mad that you’d have the nerve to wear a silver dress and orange converse together. And I’m mad that you didn’t just ask me, let’s go shopping for some new clothes for you later? I'm sure Fiona won’t mind if I snatch her credit card for a while.”
Kyle was shell shocked, gobsmacked that Madison wasn’t angry at them. Kyle finally closed their mouth, and followed Madison over to where she was sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Ugh, why is she always sleeping? Y/N, wake up!”
“N-no,” Kyle said, moving to cover Madison’s mouth with her hand. “Y-Y-Y/N… not know… Thinks I’m… Boy.”
Madison nodded, whispering a quiet “sorry” to her, before getting up and leaving the room.
She came back a minute later with a small black vanity bag, filled with some items Kyle recognized from when she was sleeping in Madison’s room at first. Makeup.
“Come here, let me do something for you.”
She opened her bag and sat down opposite Kyle, brushing glittery colours of eyeshadow on the girl’s eyelids, expertly drawing on some black eyeliner and adding fake lashes and mascara. Kyle scrunched up her nose, the brush tickling her skin, though she looked up at Madison with wide eyes, watching the witch in amazement.
Madison’s lips pulled up into a smirk as she pulled away from Kyle, finishing off Kyle’s makeup with some red tinted lip gloss. Madison tucked a strand of Kyle’s blonde hair behind her ear, holding up a mirror to her. Seeing herself with makeup on was weird, but exciting at the same time, and she couldn’t help letting out the loudest squeal of surprise and happiness.
“Pretty…”
In an instant Madison got to her feet and pulled Kyle up with her, closing her shirt buttons. Then she pulled Kyle out of the room and down the hall to where Zoe, Nan and Queenie were arguing about something.
Some Supreme shit, or whatever.
“Move, losers. We’re doing a fashion show!” Madison yelled, pushing past the three girls, leading a still shocked Kyle to her room.
Madison went through her wardrobe, flinging clothes and shoes all around the room, searching for something perfect for Kyle. And then she found it; the blue dress from the party. She pushed back all of the terrible, horrible memories from that night and handed the dress to Kyle. “Try this.”
Kyle nodded, stripping out of her clothes, pulling the stretchy blue fabric up her legs and torso. Madison leaned against the wall, watching the blonde beauty from afar, who was twirling around in a circle again, looking at her body from all angles in the vibrant blue dress.
“I saw it from the first moment I looked at you after Wednesday Addams brought you back to life… And I saw it when we went shopping not too long ago… You were looking at that one beautiful necklace, and those red sparkly shoes you couldn’t take your eyes off, even when we were leaving the store,” Madison said as she walked over to Kyle to zip up the back of the dress, running her hands down Kyle’s chest, smiling up at her. She chuckled before adding, “and Zoe and I had to practically drag you out.”
Madison laughed, as did Kyle, and the two girls turned to look at themselves in Madison’s mirror. Kyle smiled at herself, blinking, the tips of her false eyelashes tickling her skin. And she felt pretty, for once in her life. Even all through college she never felt like herself, and she could never embrace her feminine side with all of the frat boy assholes around her. But now she could. And she was happier than she had ever been before.
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taglist: @quickiesgirl @sympathyforher @unlivingdreams @xxlangdon @langdon-cumslut
want to be added? let me know x
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sawyerconfort · 8 months
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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 · 1 year
Text
— 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.
taglist: @loverofallthingssarah @goodeday2u @lanawinters-ily @strawberryshorttcakkee @sapphicforsarahh @ahsfan05 @stayevildarling @isle-of-earle @cordithatgurl @mistysswampmud @billiedeansbitch @billiedeanspearls @cigaretteology @favoriteredhead @lovingsarah @cordeliass @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog
message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!
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braidlottie · 2 years
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gamer!emma’s setup
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sra-santiago-luuz · 1 year
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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.
0 notes
healingagoddess · 7 months
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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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