#x nb reader

271 word document pages

33 chapters

1 book

Edit: SO. Here's some clarification on what changes in the series.

Found Family! The Boys and Teen! Reader

Yandere Platonic! Homelander and Teen! Reader

Chapter Eighteen: Road Trip

Summary: Annie tries to get (Y/N) to safety, even if for just a little bit.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions of abuse, mentioned childhood medical experimentation

            “Hey,” said Annie, walking towards Hughie in the park. She tucked her sunglasses away and hurriedly kept her face away from passing people. “Thanks for coming.”

            “Hey,” said Hughie, standing.

            “Oh my god. You’re so bruised,” said Annie, looking at Hughie. She touched his collar. “That was all me?”

            “It’s cool. Really.” Hughie had been terrified, but he knew why Annie had hit him. She had to do something, otherwise Homelander would know for certain she was working with him. Annie still looked miserable, so Hughie smiled. “I mean, chicks dig bruises. You know, when I was in fifth grade, I took a tetherball to the face. And Amy Burtenshaw, she brought me Jell-O pudding pops for, like, two weeks.” Awkwardly, he paused. “I’m talking too much.”

            “I could’ve killed you,” said Annie abruptly.

            “But you didn’t,” said Hughie. “And Borealis stepped in.”

            Annie fell silent. Hughie furrowed his brow.

            “Are they, um, okay? Their wrist?” said Hughie.

            “Their wrist healed,” said Annie. She let out a long breath. “We need Vought to go down. But we risked our lives to get Compound V out there, and they’re still kicking, so it was for nothing.” (Y/N) was still in danger. So many people were still getting hurt.

            “Yeah, but no, no, no, that’s not true,” said Hughie. “I mean, you know, these things, they take time.”

            “How much time?” said Annie. “Homelander’s just getting worse around them.”

            “I—” Hughie’s phone rang. He grimaced. “Just—” he looked at it and recognized MM’s number. “Sorry, just give me a second.” He answered a few paces away. “Um, hey, MM.” He paused. “Raleigh? Like, the one in North Carolina. Yeah, okay, okay. Jesus, I was just asking. Um, yeah, yeah. Um, just pick me up at, like, 81st and-and Central Park West. Okay, okay. Alright.” He looked at Annie. “I have to go.”

            “What’s going on?” said Annie.

            “Can I call you later?” said Hughie.

            Annie nodded awkwardly, and Hughie started walking. He glanced back and saw Annie wasn’t really moving.

            “Are you…just gonna hang out?” said Hughie. “Here?”

            “Yeah, well. I left (Y/N) near the playground,” said Annie. “I don’t want them in the Tower alone right now.” That was the extent of her fear. She knew what could happen to them, and she wouldn’t leave them to face it on their own.

            “Why? What happened?” said Hughie in alarm.

            Annie let out a shaky breath and shook her head, tears of fear welling up as the memories of just how terrified she’d been for (Y/N) the previous night. “I can’t leave them there. Fuck, Hughie, Homelander hurt them.” She sobbed.

            Hughie’s stomach turned over. They had saved his life, and now Borealis was hurt. Guilt curled up in his chest. “What?”

            “I don’t know. They won’t talk about it. I just know he was pissed that they helped you,” said Annie. “And they were burned and bruised and—” Annie shook her head. “—It was horrible, Hughie.” Her shoulders shook, and Hughie caught her as she started to cry. “They didn’t know what was going on. They were like a child, and they were so scared, Hughie. That’s what he did to them. I can’t—I can’t watch that anymore.”

            Hughie swallowed and held her closer. He knew what he had to do.

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            “Are you fucking insane?” MM stared beyond Hughie at Starlight and Borealis. They were in plainclothes, jeans and sweatshirts, but he knew that would only blend with people. There were other problems. “They can’t come with us, Hughie. They’re chipped.”

            “I have a second cousin who lives around there,” said Starlight. “I could tell Vought that I’m to visit.”

            “And we’d be out of the city, away from the cameras,” said Hughie. “I mean, no one would see us.”

            “No,” said MM. “Even them standing here is dangerous. And we don’t have a story for Borealis.”

            Borealis put their hand out. “Give me a knife and I’ll cut the chip out,” they said.

            “You are not doing that,” said Starlight protectively, unsure about how more injuries would hurt their recovery.

            “I want to,” snapped Borealis.

            “They’ll know you did,” said Starlight. They had to save that for their escape so no one expected it. “Besides, you and I are a team, remember? Vought knows we stick together.” She didn’t have to say anything about how Vought wouldn’t want them in public with their injuries, anyways.

            “Come on, MM,” said Hughie.

            “I’m sorry. It’s a bad idea,” said MM. He faltered slightly when Borealis pulled their arm back and crossed their arms. He could see scorch marks going up to their neck, and they stood stiff as if avoiding strain. He was certain he’d only seen their wrist injured in the storm drains. MM furrowed his brow.

            Starlight let out a long breath. “Okay. You’re probably right. We’ll just…go and visit a friend or something. Or rent a room for a few nights.”

            “Okay,” said Borealis, dark circles under their eyes telling of the lack of sleep.

            Hughie looked at the kid who had bled for him, been tortured because they protected him. He couldn’t leave them with nothing. He looked at MM. “If we’re gonna go knock on some supe’s door, don’t you think it makes a little bit of sense for us to have supes of our own?” He leaned in through the window. “Listen…they’re in rough shape. They got thrown around because they helped me. Please. They need this.”

            “Borealis?” said MM.

            “Yeah,” said Hughie.

            MM was a father. He’d guided many teenagers out of crime and drugs. He had a weak spot, unfortunately, for kids in tough positions. And what was Borealis if not a kid in a tough position? They’d saved him and Frenchie. Then they’d saved Hughie twice.

            MM let out a long breath. Butcher was going to kill him.

            “Get in.”

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            Outside of the random press circuits Vought put them on, (Y/N) had never been outside of New York. They stared out at the states as they rolled by, city becoming suburb becoming rural, like they were entering a whole new world. Even if they were hunting a supe they had never heard of because of a thin, weak clue, they were glad to be there. Annie and MM were in the front seat, and (Y/N) and Hughie sat in the back.

            “Does anyone mind if I put on some music?” asked Annie finally.

            MM shrugged, and Hughie said, “Yeah.”

            Annie put on the radio, and her own voice as Starlight came over the speakers—singing to Translucent. She groaned. “Oh, god.”

            “You have a really good voice,” said Hughie.

            “Check the other channels,” said (Y/N), but every channel Annie flipped to had the same song playing in honor of Translucent.

            Finally, though, they arrived at Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” Annie grinned and started to sing along. In the backseat, Hughie watched her affectionately and joined in. (Y/N) and MM watched in surprise that they knew all the lyrics, and (Y/N) hummed along with them, smiling slightly. They were around multiple people that weren’t threatening them. It was nice. Even if it wouldn’t last.

            They traced their bruises, and they winced. It wouldn’t last at this rate.

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            (Y/N) bit into their waffle. It was the most delicious thing they’d ever eaten. They had gotten their pick of food instead of being handed a plate of nutritious food to keep to Vought standards. (Y/N) would hold onto the memory of that waffle.

            “And in our continuing coverage of the recent revelations over Compound V, protesters all over the Middle East have taken to the streets demanding—”

            “I’ll be right back,” said Hughie, standing from the table while the VNN reporter kept speaking in the background.

            “Alright,” said Annie.

            (Y/N) nodded through a mouthful. MM had a sip of his coffee after a precise three sips. Annie took a bite of her doughnut and groaned.

            “You want a room? You and that doughnut?” said MM.

            Annie chuckled and grinned sheepishly. “It’s just, um, my mom never let me have this stuff. It’s just—Weight gain in our household was a capital crime. But my dad, um, he’d take me to Dunkin’ on the sly.” She smiled fondly. “And he would get me a chocolate cream-filled doughnut, and he’d ask me to tell him about my day. And he’d…he’d listen.”

            (Y/N)’s heart ached for something they had never known to miss.

            “Baskin Robbins,” said MM abruptly after Annie finished. “Every Sunday after church. My pops, he’d always ask for samples. Now, this place had thirty-one flavors, and that man would taste each and every flavor every time we’d go up in there. There’d be a line all the way out the door. People would be mad as hell. Yelling. Cussing.” Annie laughed, and (Y/N) smiled even as the heartache grew. “ ‘Yo, man, get your fucking ice cream and bounce!’ You think that stopped him? Hell, nah. He would stand right there and order another sample. ‘Can I please try the Jamoca Almond Fudge, please?’ ” MM shook his head. “My ass was so embarrassed. I’d be sitting there, wishing the floor would just open up and just swallow me whole. Man.” His smile faded slightly. “Course, now I’d give a year off my life just to be able to see that man going through spoon after spoon just one last time.”

            (Y/N) paused, and they looked down. They knew he was gone.

            “When did he…?” Annie trailed off.

            “Sixteen years ago,” said MM.

            “I’m sorry,” said (Y/N).

            MM just gave a half-shrug. He looked at them. “What about you? Any memories of your father before Vought?” The entire world knew the story of the tragic deaths, how Vought came through to help their employees’ child that turned into one of the best heroes in the world.

            (Y/N) looked at MM. “I never had a father.”

            MM frowned. “You didn’t?”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Vought and its tall tales. Good for marketing, right?”

            MM’s frown deepened, and he glanced at Annie. She grimaced slightly. Clearly, that was the least of their troubles. MM could agree. The bruises on such a supe’s body were far more concerning.

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            MM, Annie, (Y/N), and Hughie exited the diner. Annie wiped her hands with napkins, and MM stared, aghast.

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you dry wiping?” he said.

            “Am I what?” said Annie.

            “Come here,” said MM, gesturing for them to come closer. “Listen, any part of your body, and I mean any part—when you dry wipe, you’re not cleaning anything. You’re just smearing shit all over your skin.” He pulled wet wipes out and handed them to Annie and (Y/N). “Here. Gotta use wet wipes. There you go.”

            “You just carry these around with you?” said Annie.

            “Sanitary,” said (Y/N).

            “Damn right,” said MM.

            Wham! Behind them, a truck plowed into a car attempting to pull into the road. They jumped, and people cried out in fear. People ran to the car in worry, and Annie started.

            “No, no, no, no, no, please!” MM blocked them.

            “They’re hurt!” said Annie. “They need help!”

            “No, please. No, no, no,” said MM. “This is not the time to be a supe. Okay? We’re lowkey, not with us here.”

            Annie looked at (Y/N) desperately.

            “Our powers can’t help them,” said (Y/N), though they were also concerned.

            “There’s a ton of people here,” said Hughie. “Look, there’s a guy calling 911. There’s nothing else we can do.”

            “Come on. Come on, we gotta go,” said MM, ushering them back towards the car.

            (Y/N) squeezed Annie’s hand as they got into the car. Being helpless never felt better, even when you knew you couldn’t do anything.

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            There was a knock at the motel door, and (Y/N) tensed. They took the door handle, but their other hand tensed, energy collecting around it, tiny waves of energy flickering and pulsing. They opened the door.

            “What the—Shit, kid!” snapped MM.

            (Y/N)’s powers went out. “Sorry,” they said, retreating instantly, on edge. “Sorry.”

            MM saw their step back, and he put his hands up. “You’re good. I keep a gun under my pillow. I get it.”

            (Y/N) nodded curtly. “What did you need?”

            “Hughie ain’t in his bed,” said MM. “Wondering if you know where he is.”

            “Annie’s not here, so…” They both knew what that meant.

            “That’s not a good idea,” grumbled MM.

            “They’re living in the moment. They could die.” (Y/N) shrugged. “I’d leave it.”

            MM sighed. “You’re the bad influence on Starlight, aren’t you?”

            “Bad influence?” said (Y/N).

            “The reason she’s helping us and putting her ass on the line,” said MM.

            “Oh. I don’t know,” said (Y/N).

            MM frowned. “Seriously? Hughie says she raves about you. It’s the only reason we let you in on this.”

            (Y/N) blinked and smiled slightly. “Annie’s nice to me. Not many people in Vought are nice.”

            “No. No, they are not,” said MM. He paused. “But you aren’t terrible. And I never said thank you for helping me.”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. I don’t do that enough. I’m trying to do it more.”

            MM glanced at the bruises still healing on their arms, exposed in a t-shirt. “Be careful, kid.”

            “Won’t make a difference. He’ll do what he wants,” said (Y/N). “So I’d rather risk my ass trying to take him and Vought down. That’s the only way to stop him.”

            “Huh. I guess Hughie was right about you,” said MM, tilting his head. Borealis was a…strange kid. Grown up in some ways, a child in others. He could see why Hughie and Starlight liked them, even if he was still growing to know them.

            “About what?” said (Y/N).

            “He said, ‘Borealis is a real hero,’ ” said MM.

            (Y/N) paused. Did they dare— “(Y/N).”

            MM looked at them again.

            “My name is (Y/N),” they said. “Hughie might have mentioned it, but, uh, yeah.” It was an offer of, if not friendship or trust quite yet, comradery.

            MM gave a solemn nod. He understood.

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            MM, Annie, (Y/N), and Hughie walked to the front door of house 667. Hughie knocked on the door, the last known location of “Liberty,” apparently an old Vought supe.

            “Hello?” A woman opened the door, hair in a bandana. It was decidedly not Liberty herself.

            “Uh, hello, um, I’m Hughie,” said Hughie. “Is-is there, by any chance, a woman living here who used to go by the name of, um, Liberty?”

            The woman’s eyes turned fearful. “No.” She closed the door.

            (Y/N) tilted their head. That was the face of someone who knew something they were afraid to admit.

            “Okay, we have the right address, right?” said Hughie in confusion.

            MM handed him the picture and headed to the door. He knocked again.

            “Please leave,” said the woman.

            “Miss, I’m sorry if my friend offended you,” said MM. “But we just want to ask just a couple of questions.”

            “Just leave me alone,” begged the woman. “I took your damn money, I signed your damn papers, and I have kept my mouth shut.”

            It was what (Y/N) had suspected. Another victim of Vought’s. “Ma’am, we’re not with Vought,” they said, trying to keep the same respectful, calming tone that MM had.

            “We just want to learn what we can about Liberty,” said MM. “That’s it.”

            “Then y’all are just some damn fools,” said the woman.

            “It sounds like you know her,” observed MM. “Or knew her.”

            “You’re wasting your time. Okay?” She started to close the door again.

            “Ma’am, please, listen to us. Just—Just listen. We—We understand. We’re in your position,” said (Y/N). The woman paused at the teenager’s words, looking at the child among adults. “So-So if we can talk, you can just listen. You don’t have to say anything. And afterwards, you can tell us to go. And we’ll go.”

            The woman let out a long breath. “Go ahead.”

            MM stepped forward and took over again. “My father was a lawyer. Small-time, very smart. And aggressive. When I was a kid, something happened between my family and Vought, which I’d rather not talk about, but it was bad. Now, see, my dad, he believed in the law and that nobody was above it, not even Vought. So he went to work. He got after their asses. He had one of those…Do you remember those little black typewriters, manual ones with the keys? I’d go to sleep at night to all that noise, my father banging away at that thing. Wake up the next morning, he’d still be hammering away. All night. But see, Vought wasn’t about to let this one black man put his foot on their necks.”

            MM shook his head bitterly. “So they hired a team of lawyers. Paid off judges. But my father never gave up. Till one morning I woke up and…” MM paused as the pain throbbed in his chest again. “I didn’t hear those keys anymore. Just found him hunched over that typewriter, dead at fifty-five.”

            (Y/N) lowered their gaze respectfully.

            “I’m so sorry for your loss,” murmured the woman.

            “I’m not here for your sympathy,” said MM. “But I am gonna tell you that his fight got passed down to me. And I’m gonna make Vought pay for what they did to him and, ma’am, from what I gather, what they’ve done to you, as well.”

            The woman let out a breath. “Come in,” she said. “I’m Valerie Hunter.”

            They entered her home and walked to her living room. She sat, and they sat across from her, waiting respectfully for her to begin her tale.

            “I mean…it’s been forty-eight years,” said Valerie. “What good is dredging all this stuff up now gonna do?”

            “Honestly, we don’t know,” said MM. “But we still need to hear it.”

            Valerie sighed. “I tried to get people to listen.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Lord knows, so many times, I tried. But a little black girl accusing a white superhero of murder in these parts?”

            “Yeah,” said MM in understanding, and (Y/N) nodded grimly.

            Valeri continued, “It was during one of those summer rains that you just knew was coming by the smell in the air. I was eleven years old, asleep in the backseat of my folks’ Ford. My brother Myron, he was driving. We got pulled over. Liberty said our car was involved in a robbery. Myron told her he was innocent. She didn’t believe him. Hit him. He—He asked her why she was doing it. She was supposed to be a hero.” She shook her head. “She said she was a hero because she was killing a black piece of shit like him.” She looked at them with the suppressed, tired anger of a woman who had never been given justice. Tears burned in her eyes. “His face—It was—” She shook her head, unable to put into words the gruesome sight that had been her last memory of her brother.

            “I wanted to go to the police. But my folks, they thought it was pointless. So when that man from Vought, when he showed up and he offered us that money, we just took it,” said Valerie. “Two thousand dollars. That is what my brother’s life was worth. Just two thousand dollars.” She swallowed. “But y’all have got to promise me that you won’t tell anybody that I sat here and I talked to you. Because if that woman finds out that I opened my mouth, she’s gonna kill me.”

            “Ms. Hunter, that woman, Liberty, nobody’s seen her since 1979,” said Hughie. “I mean, she’s probably dead by now.”

            Valerie chuckled bitterly and shook her head frantically. “Oh, no, no. I…” She rifled through newspapers and looked for the latest issue. “Here.” She held up a picture. “That’s her. Right there. That’s Liberty.”

            Stormfront thwarts America’s first Super Terrorist

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            “Valerie was just a little girl, and she said it was raining, so she could be wrong,” said Hughie as they drove back towards New York.

            “She seemed pretty certain,” said Annie.

            “She knows it’s her. And she’s right,” said (Y/N). “Someone involved in something like that—you don’t forget it.”

            “You’re sure?” said Hughie.

            “Yeah. Call it personal experience,” said (Y/N)

            “Yeah, but if Liberty and Stormfront are the same person, then that makes Stormfront, like, what, like seventy years old?” said Hughie. “More?”

            “Compound V could make her age slower,” pointed out (Y/N).

            “This is the same Stormfront that just became America’s favorite two-fisted supe,” said Hughie, realizing how bad that was.

            “Mhm,” Annie grimaced.

            “I told you there was something off about her,” said (Y/N) to Annie.

            “You’re not going to let it go,” said Annie.

            (Y/N) shrugged.

            “And she might’ve popped Raynor’s head,” said MM.

            “Oh, my god,” said Annie.

            “Ew,” said (Y/N). “Can her lightning do that? I thought it would only fry people.”

            “What the fuck is going on?” said Hughie.

            (Y/N) tilted their head. “And what game is Stormfront playing?” She liked Homelander, but she took his spot, his attention. Then again, if she was seventy or older, she clearly had a long-term strategy. Either way, (Y/N) was left with one conviction: they wanted to kick Stormfront’s ass. Someone had to bring justice for all the people she’d hurt.

Taglist:

@kruemelkid

@pain-in-the-ashe

@mxvoid26

@selarus

@ceridwyn3

@neenieweenie

@kyalov

@yummycement

@grippledee-galaxy

@generalgalaxyfury

@katethedilfhunter

@astrologicalwarrior

@slytherinroyalty16

Found Family! Hazbin Hotel and Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor and Teen! Reader

Chapter Nine: Creating a Cult

Summary: Vox puts on a show. (Y/N) isn't a fan.

            “Why isn’t anyone doing anything about Alastor being literally kidnapped?” snapped (Y/N). They paced angrily. Ever since Alastor had been taken, they’d wavered between grief and fury. They chose to hang onto anger. They could do more with that. Grief was paralyzing, drowning them, reminding them of being helpless in life, the way they were irredeemable in death. Anger at least gave action.

            “Whatever he’s up to, it’s his mess, kid,” said Husk. “He can handle himself. He made the deal.”

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow and looked down at their hands. They watched flowers furl and unfurl their petals beneath their fingers. Their chest ached.

            “Don’t even think about it,” said Husk.

            “Think about what?” said Angel Dust, walking down to the bar.

            Husk gestured to (Y/N). “I know damn well you’re going to do something stupid like try to go to that rally and see if you can find Alastor.”

            (Y/N) huffed. “No, I wasn’t.”

            Husk scoffed. “Never play poker, kid.”

            (Y/N) and Alastor both, in some strange way, cared about each other. Alastor had ordered Husk to get them back to the hotel so they’d be safe. And (Y/N) wanted to interfere with whatever hair-brained scheme Alastor had going on because they cared.

            “Seriously, I wasn’t going to see if I could find Alastor,” said (Y/N). “I was going to go to the rally to keep an eye on what the hell is happening.” They gestured wildly as they lied through their teeth. “You know, since Charlie’s too busy obsessing over getting Heaven to listen to her instead of actually facing Vox and his cult head-on.”

            “Vaggie said she was gonna talk to Lucifer,” said Angel Dust. “Think it has to do with that?”

            “Hopefully Lucifer can kick Vox’s ass,” grumbled (Y/N). “Because, otherwise, I want a chance.”

            “Kid, that’s a bad fucking idea,” said Husk.

            (Y/N) sighed. “I know. But I just—No one’s doing anything to fight Vox. Not really.”

            “Charlie will figure it out,” said Angel Dust. “Or, well, at least, Vaggie will.” He smiled. “And, hey, as long as you don’t get stupid and fight Vox, you could go. Keep an eye on him or something until someone can deal with him.”

            “Someone needs to,” said (Y/N) darkly. Vox needed to be handled.

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            “You clean up nice for a TV,” purred Valentino.

            “I know,” said Vox with a smirk. “So you have those dancers ready?”

            “Mm-hmm,” confirmed Valentino.

            “And they’re…?” said Vox.

            “Tens. Plus one eight for ‘diversity,’ ” mocked Valentino.

            “Good man,” said Vox as Valentino strolled off to check a wig.

            Wearing a shit-eating grin, Alastor rolled himself into the corridor. “Are you sure you want to present yourself like this to all of Hell?”

            “Pardon?” Vox gritted his teeth.

            “Flocked by your partners.” Alastor spun himself around. “With their far more impressive contribution to your flashy little clown show.” He rolled nearer to Vox casually. “What really are you contributing besides…noise?”

            Vox scoffed (several times, which came off as desperate to seem casual). “I’m the face. The face of the revolution.” A poll appeared behind him, his ratings through the roof—or, almost. “Where the fuck have you been?”

            “Yes, but still, if that’s all…” Alastor smirked condescendingly.

            “You think they could have pulled this off without me?!” said Vox accusatorily. “It’s me who made this happen. I have the vision.” Just as he did in life, he saw more potential in the world than anyone else. And he took it for himself.

            “I have vision,” said Valentino.

            Vox scoffed. “Sure you do.”

            Valentino narrowed his eyes in irritation. He watched Alastor smirk at Vox, who growled. He gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. “I should go get the dancers camera-ready. See you out there?”

            “Absolutely.” Vox waved a hand dismissively, still intent on glaring at Alastor. He blinked as he realized how rude he had been—and he couldn’t afford to have Valentino pissy at this integral moment—and cleared his throat. He hurried after Valentino. “Actually, Val—” Vox saw Alastor raise a brow and smirk, and Vox made a decision “—how about you and Velvette manage backstage? Can’t have any mistakes in the presentation.”

            Valentino raised an indignant brow. “You don’t want us coming out?”

            “Just not right away,” said Vox. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your moment. Thanks, babe.” He walked away.

            “Sure.” Valentino scoffed sarcastically. “ ‘Babe.’ ” He stalked off.

            “See?” said Vox smugly, looking at Alastor again. “I’m in charge here.”

            “I suppose it’s something,” remarked Alastor. He crossed his legs. “Excuses and lies seem to be your specialty.”

            “I try,” smirked Vox. He grinned. “But I’ll tell you something truthful. I hope your kid shows up to my show. I’ve got big plans for them.” He chuckled darkly as Alastor’s ears twitched and headed out onstage. He knew they were coming. Vox had everything under control.

Teaser One: Playlist

Songs Featured in Nature of the Human Soul (Book 2):

Hazbin Guarantee (Trust Us)

Once We Get Up There

Speedrun to Redemption

Pure as a Lamb by Baby Bugs

Don’t You Forget

Don’t You Forget (Reprise)

Vox Dei

And Eve Was Weak from Carrie

Pitiful Children from Be More Chill

Disease by Lady Gaga

Takedown by HUNTR/X

Hear My Hope

See Yourself Become the Villain Teaser One

MC, "Borealis," Playlist

Huntrix vs Saja boys

X Honmoon!NB oc

Part 1

Part 2

.................💗..................

"For generations demons had always haunted the world, stealing souls

Feeding their king

Giving him strength

Gwi- ma

Till heroes rose to rescue

Born with voices that drive away the darkness , singing songs of courage and hope.

They aren't just hunters

They are performers, who's songs ignite the soul, bringing many together. With such connection

The first hunters weaved and created a shield that protects our world. Grasping the moons light, and the ignited souls light, weaved together in perfect harmony

The hon moon

The hone moon, a divine being created from hope, love, song and passion. But most importantly Life.

For generations a new trio is always picked to fulfill the hunters greatest duty.

The golden hon moon

Hon moon was only at their lower stages in its existence. The golden hon moon would transform it's very being into pure light and keep all humans safe and away from demons.

That is it's divinity greatest destiny. "

Celine smiled as she guided all three newly formed huntresses to a garden.

"so this divine being is like hundreds of years old then" Mira comments. "No duh" Zoey exclaims "ah I heard so much about it, are they pretty as you say they are?" She asked excitedly.

Celine smiled "yes, they are. I met them when I was your age, they are quite the being" the woman said fondly.

Rumi hummed, for years she heard about the Honmoon. This Honmoon was only a concentrated form it decided to take, the Honmoon is actually everywhere all at once, they are probably seeing them right now. She felt nervous to meet them.

"well, can't wait. Kinda nervous aren't you Rumi?" Zoey asked, adding more jump to her step as she hugs Rumis arm.

Rumi blinked rapidly and laughed "I am, I kinda been hearing about them for years now" she explains. "Wow and just now you get to see him? You should sew" Mira smirks.

Celine only chuckles as she turns forward, they nearest a gate, pearly white decorated in gold trim.

The light of the Hon moon grows denser and brighter, its threaded form all pointed to one center that was just behind those gates.

"now then girls, best behavior. One must treat this being with respect, it is our world's greatest protector" Zoey grinned stiffly and widely as she talked. Her posture stiff, Mira and Rumi follow suit.

The gates opened before Celine could even touch the gate. A breeze blue in, gentle and warm.

"oh great Hon moon we thank you for meeting us, sooner then we had anticipated" Celine bowed deeply. Zoey squeals silently, Rumi elbows her making Zoey squeak in quiet and Mira snickers silently before being elbowed by Rumi as well.

As Celine bowed she could hear the horseplay going in behind her. She only rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Celine"

A voice spoke, softly and velvety. One that can sooth anyone.

The girls froze from in their place.

They glowed around them as the Honmoon glowed and from it a silhouette formed.

"what did I say, I told you to call me Honey!" The echoy-ness of the voice fades. The light dims down and all they see is a beautiful being, almost human however to pretty or... handsome? One couldn't tell.

"apologizes Honey" the older woman states.

Honey giggled and floats down from their tree and grinned "are these my new dolboneun salam?"

"yes these are-"

"wait I want to guess" Honey states. The girls quickly fixed themselves up.

Honey walks to them and hummed, thinking

"Zoey" they turn to the black haired girl with the always bubbly happy look on her face.

"Yea!" She states. "It's so nice to meet you, I've waited so long" Honey squealed. They both end up squealing together.

Honey cleared their throat then look to the tall magenta red haired girl. "Mira"

"bingo" Mira throws a hand hand gun.

"bingo bongo" Honey smiled "I love your makeup, shadowy eye make up is pleasing to look at" they smiled. Mira hummed and smiled "damn right"

Honey then turns to The purple haired girl

"and Rumi" they spoke with a small exhale.

Rumi tensed up the most and glanced at Celine. She herself was also nervous. Honey stared into her eyes.

"you look as beautiful as your mother" Honey spoke with a warm smile. They fix Abit of Rumi messy hair.

"I....thank you" Rumi spoke and blushed slightly.

Honey backed up and smiled "I'm excited to be in your care, let your voices carry me to my next stage of Destiny"

Wednesday Addams x Demigod! Reader

Pride Special 2025

            (Y/N) headed towards Jericho with a slight bounce in their step, way more than usual when they went into town. However, the town was having a Pride event, and some Nevermore students were braving the town’s judgmental nature to attend. (Y/N) and Enid were two of them, and, if she was convinced, Wednesday would eventually turn up. Enid was counting on the fact (Y/N) was going to be there with other queer people since it might make Wednesday jealous enough to attend. Honestly, Enid needed them to make a move on each other at this point. It was getting a little ridiculous.

            “What do you think their Pride will be like?” said (Y/N) as they walked.

            “Fun,” said Enid. “Probably less magical than ours. Literally.” The witches had created rainbow fireworks that had danced through the air, which had been impressive and a great addition to the atmosphere.

            “We’ll find out,” said (Y/N) as they entered Jericho.

            The square had a panner reading “Happy Pride,” and people were milling about at local business stalls, eating snacks, getting face paint, or watching a local band play. Some people even danced, and (Y/N) smiled. It was good to see people celebrating being themselves. Now was the test of just how much they were celebrating uniqueness and differences—the Nevermore Academy students were arriving. Some people in Jericho quieted as they entered, and (Y/N) made themself stand a bit taller. Hey, their scythe earrings were rainbow, and their black shirt had a grey rainbow stitched in—that was friendly, right?

            Fortunately, enough of the celebration continued that the Nevermore students could spread out a little without causing an issue with the townsfolk yet. Still, they would have thought a Pride event would have more inclusion. Freaks were a bit much for Jericho still, it appeared, especially after everything that had happened.

            That wasn’t going to stop (Y/N) from having a good time. They and Enid headed to look at the jewelry station, and they looked at some of the handmade earrings, necklaces, and bracelets.

            “I like this,” said (Y/N), holding up a black necklace with simple rainbow gems inlaid.

            “Nice,” said Enid. “Fits your look.” She picked out earrings that looked like mini disco balls, and they both paid. The seller was a bit uncomfortable with the Nevermore students, but (Y/N) and Enid, friendly as ever, put her a bit at ease, so there wasn’t an issue (yet).

            “What are you doing here?”

            (Y/N) recognized the familiar boys that had bothered them, Eugene, and Wednesday before. They really hated Nevermore and thought they were weird. They weren’t wrong, (Y/N) was weird and proud of it, but they weren’t evil.

            “Enjoying Pride,” said (Y/N).

            “What do you have to be proud of? You’re one of the Nevermore weirdos,” said one boy.

            “The weirdos are you for walking up to someone to harass them,” said Enid. They might not be homophobic, but they were still rude.

            “Yeah, well, this is for Jericho. Go and do your own rituals or whatever you do for being proud,” said another boy.

            “We can’t. It requires bigot blood. Are you volunteering?”

            The boys paled and backed away. Wednesday had arrived, and with her, the intense energy that offput many had filled the area.

            (Y/N) laughed as they left. “Nice touch with the blood.”

            “I could do a lot with their blood,” said Wednesday. She hadn’t really been lying.

            “I bet you could!” said (Y/N). “Experiments or spells? Or both?”

            Wednesday straightened at (Y/N)’s interest in her. It caused the familiar poison of affection to course through her. She believed she was becoming something of a masochist since, although she usually liked to be the torturer, she was enjoying the discomfort of feelings for (Y/N).

            “Ew,” said Enid. “Do we have to talk about blood?”

            “Fine, fine,” said (Y/N). “Then I want food!”

            “After talking about using someone’s blood? What are you, a vamp?” said Enid, shaking her head with a grin.

            “They are a reaper. Perhaps it would taste good. We should test it,” said Wednesday.

            “Sorry to disappoint, but I was curious, so I tried it with Yoko once,” said (Y/N). “Didn’t do anything for me.”

            “Pity,” said Wednesday. It would have been interesting.

            Enid wrinkled her nose at the discussion, but when she saw (Y/N) smiling at Wednesday and Wednesday own soft—by her standards—expression, Enid grinned. They were cute. So, she peeled away from them without them noticing, letting them continue speaking together, just the two of them.

            “Thanks for scaring those guys away, by the way,” said (Y/N).

            “Hardly difficult,” said Wednesday. She was capable of being much scarier. However, she wanted to let (Y/N) enjoy themself at the Pride event instead of being kicked out, so she had let it go at a threat.

            “Can’t believe they chose today to be so weird to us,” said (Y/N). “I know this is LGBTQ+ Pride, and I am queer, but they were insulting us being different. And this is Pride.”

            “They’re clueless boys,” said Wednesday. Idiots, through and through. Like most people.

            (Y/N) laughed, and Wednesday looked at their eyes crinkle in a smile. “Right,” they said. “Still, thanks for coming. I know this stuff doesn’t really matter to you. But you came at just the right time.”

            Wednesday did not say she came for them. Instead, she simply said, “I was bored. You’re interesting company.”

            (Y/N)’s chest warmed. “Well, I can say I’m proud to be interesting, then. Or weird. Or a freak. It all fits.” And they were proud of it.

            “Yes,” said Wednesday. She was proud of it, too.