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#I have no idea how to write a love letter to be honest
roseghoul26 · 2 days
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Chapter 7: My House of Stone...
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Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: sorry this took so long i got such bad writers block Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List
When Arthur didn’t show up after a few days, you tried to not let it get to you. He was a busy man, no doubt even more busy because of the job involving your husband. You ignored the fact that he proved that he would fight everything to come and see you, consequences be damned. It was almost out of character that he hadn’t come to see you, or had reached out to you in some way.
When a few more days passed with no sign of the outlaw, you found yourself going back over your last encounter, when he had taken you out on Bear. You don’t recall any hesitancy or doubt in his eyes when he was with you, or maybe you were too blind with your own desire to see it. That thought made you reel, panicking that you made him uncomfortable and scared him off. 
But you didn’t let that thought fester for too long. You spent your days doing menial tasks with no real passion, trying to just pass the time. It worked, mostly, but you were getting antsy. How you wished you had an easy way to leave the prison that had become the house. 
Even more days passed, each day becoming more and more anxiety ridden. Instead of worrying that you’d scared him off now, you were worried that he was dead, or in shackles, about to be hung up in the town square. Your nights were becoming restless, images of his dead body haunting you when you closed your eyes. You’d wake with bloodshot eyes, even more tired than you were when you went to bed. 
You eventually stopped counting the days, not wanting to know how long he’d been gone for. You tried to spend more and more time outside of the house, bringing blankets and books from Hans’ office to your garden, waiting to escape the confinement of the walls around you. It helped, for a bit, yet you still found your mind wandering, constantly worrying about Arthur. 
But no matter how hard you tried, you found that you couldn’t hate the man. Upset, sure, angry, definitely, but not hateful. No, your heart wouldn’t allow it. You were still in love with him, and the lack of contact from him was hurting you, both physically and mentally. It was hard to eat, hard to sleep, hard to find it in yourself to take care of your body. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. He had wormed his way into your very being, and left a hole that couldn’t be fixed. You just hoped that he’d return soon and make you feel whole again. 
It was during this time that you decided to draft a letter to your family, hoping that it would alleviate the loneliness that was once removed by Arthur. You sat in Hans’ office, pen shaking in your hand as you stared at the blank piece of paper in front of you, the task proving to be more difficult than you imagined. It had been two years since you’d last spoken to them, and you had no idea what to say. How much was too much? How honest was too honest?
You decided to keep it simple, and you began to write. It took a few tries, but you eventually produced a letter that you were satisfied with. 
My dear family, 
I have missed you all, incredibly so. Words don’t even begin to do it justice. I apologize for not reaching out earlier, but my circumstances wouldn’t allow it. I do so hope to hear back from you, and perhaps have the pleasure of seeing each other in the flesh soon. 
Your daughter,
You finished it with your name, but just your first name. Tucking it into an envelope, you addressed it with the address Arthur had provided you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw Arthur’s handwriting, rereading the note he left you.
Making sure to leave the office as you found it, you made your way downstairs, setting the letter on the kitchen table, ready to grab for whenever you decided to go into town. You spent a few days at home after writing the letter, hoping that one night you’d hear the familiar hoofbeats of Bear, but were left disappointed each night. 
Eventually, though, you needed to leave, if just for a short bit of time. It had been roughly three weeks since you’d last left the house, and if you had to look at the same things again you were going to snap, leaving the house as a pile of ash. So, with a small purse with some cash, you took the letter and yourself and left. 
If it weren't for your current mindset, the walk to the main road would’ve been relaxing, enjoying the noises of animals and the cool breeze against your skin. But everything is annoying you now. The wind was causing your hair to blow in your face, and if you had to hear that birdsong one more time, you were going to lose it. Or maybe you’d already lost it. 
The sun blinded you as you left the shade of the thick forest, stepping out onto the main road. You always hated doing this, but you were desperate. Slowly, you began to walk towards Rhodes, keeping a close ear for any riders. 
It took a few minutes, but you eventually heard someone approaching from behind, and you perked up, putting on your friendliest face as you stopped and turned. It was a carriage, and you began to wave them down, but they ignored you, not even bothering to glance in your direction. Rude.
Still, you kept on, not letting one bad interaction deter you. A few more carriages and wagons passed, with similar responses. Everyone looked grim, you noticed, stone-faced and somber expressions. Now you were starting to feel dejected, and you debated just heading back to the house; you weren’t that far anyway. 
Before you could come to a decision, a single rider passed you, glancing at you even though you didn’t wave him down. Something like recognition flashed across his face, even though you’d never seen this man in your life. He had longer, black-brown hair that was tied into a small ponytail, with a mustache and goatee, and a bowler hat protecting his tanned skin. He had a blue denim jacket on, with a red handkerchief around his neck, and you noted that he was surprisingly well dressed for being an alone traveler on the road. 
“Mrs. Kerrigan?” He asked, almost in disbelief, like you were a creature from folklore, pulling his gray and white horse to a halt beside you. 
You braced yourself, ready to bolt as you stared at the man. “Yes?” You asked, suspicious. It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize who you were, but they’d never acted like they knew you personally. You dove into the deep recess of your brain trying to remember who he was, but drawing a blank; he was a stranger to you.
“What’re you doin’ out here?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned, which was a tad bit off putting from a complete stranger. Still, you couldn't detect any malicious intent in his words.
Sighing, you answered truthfully. “I’m tryin’ to get to Rhodes. You… you don’t happen to be goin’ there, do you?”
“Unfortunately, no,” he answered, truly sounding regretful, but then his face turned thoughtful. 
“Ah. No worries then. Have a good day.” 
You tried to continue moving, but his smooth voice made you halt again. “But it’s close enough. I can only bring you to the outskirts, though.”
“You’d do that?” You smiled when he nodded. “I can pay, too. Thank you, Mr…?”
“Escuella. But you can call me Javier.” He extended a hand to you, helping you on to the back of his horse. You sat sidesaddle, keeping an appropriate amount of distance between your bodies, your hands resting on his sides.
Javier. You remember Arthur telling you about someone with the same name, and although you highly doubted that this was the same Javier, you wished that he had a drawing of him. “Thank you, Javier.”
“Of course, Mrs. Kerrigan.” Javier gestured his horse forward, setting an easygoing pace; not too fast, not too slow. A small pang hit your heart as you remembered the last time you were on a horse, your body pressed up to Arthur’s, his rough voice in your ears, the playful glint in his eye. God, you missed him. 
“I’ll pay you when we get to town,” you repeated after a few minutes of riding, and you felt Javier chuckle. 
“I appreciate it, but I think Arthur would kill me.” Your blood ran cold, and your heart began to race just at the mention of him. So this was Javier, the one Arthur traveled with in the mountains to rescue John. It makes sense then, why he seemed to recognize you.
“Well, it’s nice to put a face to a name,” you commented. 
“He’s talked about me, then?”
“All good things,” you reassured, and he just shook his head, not believing you. You desperately wanted to ask him about Arthur, if he was alive or not, but you weren’t sure if any answer he gave you would hurt less. “Does… does he talk about me?”
Javier snorted. “Yes and no. He’ll talk about you, sometimes so much that we want to kill him, but then refuses to answer any of our questions. Some of us even doubted your existence,” he laughed, “but I’m glad to see that we’re wrong. You’ve made him real happy. I haven’t seen him this… optimistic in a long time.”
You were glad he was facing forward, so he couldn’t see the way those words broke you. Biting back tears, you kept your voice steady. “How is Arthur?”
“He’s fine?” He responded, very clearly confused as to why you didn’t know. “He’s been, well, ‘helping’ your husband.”
Oh. “So the names he got led to somethin’?” 
“Sure did. We were able to track down suppliers, and disrupt his business there. He’s yet to reach out for help, but Dutch doesn’t think it’ll be long now.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” You weren’t lying. “But he’s well?” You couldn’t help but ask about him again. 
“Yes. It’s been a crazy couple of days, but we’re pulling through.”
Only a couple of days. You refrained from asking what he’d gotten up to earlier, not wanting to appear desperate, even if you were. “I’m glad. And don’t make me regret saying this, but if anyone ever needs a place to lie low for a bit, point ‘em towards my house. At least when my husband isn’t there.” Even though you’d barely met any of the members, you couldn’t help but feel protective over the gang because of how deeply Arthur cared about them. If there was anything you could do to help them, you would.
“I’ll be sure to let them know. Thank you.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Arthur was right about you; you’re too kind for this world.”
You murmured a small thanks, and the two of you fell into an easy silence for the rest of the ride. When the familiar outskirts of Rhodes appeared, you felt Javier begin to grow nervous, his head moving back and forth, like he was on the lookout for something. “We can stop here,” you said once you reached a long abandoned house, the yellow paint chipping and peeling. 
Red dust kicked up when your feet hit the ground, and you quickly took out a few bills, handing them to Javier. “Again, I can’t take this,” he held up a hand, a small smile on his face.
“I ain’t payin’ you for the ride, though. I payin’ you to deliver a message to Arthur,” you countered, but he didn’t relent. Sighing, you tucked them into the saddlebags before facing him with your hands on your hips. “Tell him to come see me. Please.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know. Do you have a ride back home?”
“I can arrange something’. Now go; you look uncomfortable just being here.”
He chuckled, not disagreeing with you. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kerrigan.”
“You too, Javier. Stay safe.”
He nodded, smiling kindly at you before turning, taking off back down the road you’d just been on. Turning toward the town, you began to make your way to the center of town, right to the post office in the railroad station.
It was eerily quiet, more like a ghost town than anything. There wasn’t a single soul lingering on the porches or the street, and the shutters of most of the buildings were shut, which was extremely unusual for the middle of the day on a weekday. There weren’t even any animals out; it was just you and the dust. 
After a few tense minutes of walking, you eventually climbed the stairs of the railroad station, the creak of the old wood almost making you jump. It was just as empty on the inside as it was outside, the other person in the building, the person behind the counter, who smiled tensely as you entered. 
“Good afternoon, missus,” he exclaimed, the chip in his voice far too forced. “Say, can’t say I’ve seen you ‘round here before.”
“You’ve probably met my husband, Mr. Kerrigan,” you responded, making your way to the counter, pulling the letter from your bag. 
“Ah yes. Well, how can I help you, Mrs. Kerrigan?”
You slid the letter across to him. “I’d like to send this, please.”
“Not a problem at all. That’ll be five cents.”
Sliding him a nickel from your bag, you looked around as he stamped the letter, putting it in the appropriate mailbox. “Is there anythin’ else I can help you with?”
“Why is it so… dead?” You glanced back at the man, who had visibly paled at your question. 
“Interesting choice of words, ma’am. Let’s just say we had an… incident yesterday. Nothing befitting a proper lady like yourself.” He explained, clearly not wanting to talk about it.
Ominous. Realizing you weren’t going to get far with him, you wished him a good day before leaving. You made your way to the general store; Mr. Banks would let you know. 
The bell chimed as you entered, and you called out for the older gentleman, and you heard the sound of crashing from the back room, clearly scaring the poor man. A disheveled Mr. Banks peeked around the corner, visibly relaxing when he saw it was just you. You opened your mouth to try and apologize, but he cut you off. “You didn't bring that ‘deputy’ with ya, did you?” He asked, growing tense again.
“Arthur? No, he’s not with me.”
“Good. I’ll kill him on sight if he even dares to step foot in Rhodes again. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Physically, no. “Mr. Banks, what in the world-”
“Him and his buddies shot up the town yesterday. Killed the good Leigh Gray, Lord bless his soul,” he shuddered, and you halted in your tracks, your somewhat amused smile at his ramblings falling. 
“What?”
He pointed to a newspaper on the counter, and you cautiously stepped toward it. Bloodthirsty Gang Kills Dozens was the headline, a few paragraphs of text following below it. Your head spun at the new information, blocking out the words of Mr. Banks. You couldn’t gauge what you were feeling; you weren’t disgusted, or revolted, even though you knew you should be. You weren’t surprised; you knew that Arthur had done things, unspeakable things, and would continue to do so. You weren’t angry at what he did, but you were angry at him for putting himself in harm’s way like that. 
“I’ll take the paper,” you cut Mr. Banks off, sliding him a few bills, and he slid the paper to you. You barely mumbled out a ‘good day’ before you left, nose deep in the paper as you headed back to the railroad station, sitting on the bench waiting for the carriage services, and you read as you waited. 
You read all about the way the gang played both families, something you had no idea was happening. You weren’t hurt that he didn’t tell you; you knew that some things had to remain secrets. But you didn’t care much about the detail, eyes scanning for any telling of death or injury to the Van Der Linde gang. You knew that Javier probably didn’t lie to you, but you still needed to be sure. 
Your heart dropped when you saw that there was indeed one confirmed killing of a member of the Van Der Linde gang, but you didn’t recognize the description they provided. The others, it seemed, were still at large, and unhurt. Knowing how deeply Arthur cared about each member of the gang, you knew that this death was probably weighing heavily on him. If only he would come and see you, just so you could help him.
The sound of a carriage approaching had you standing, tucking the paper under your arm. Getting in, you directed the driver to your house, and you quickie got lulled into the rocking rhythm of the vehicle. You ignored the paper under your arm, even though it felt like a million pounds.
The ride felt like forever, but eventually you pulled into the familiar forested area of Ringneck Creek. The driver helped you out, and after you paid him you headed inside, feeling like you were just going through the motions. Despite everything you’d learned, there was one thing that really bothered you. The shootout had only been yesterday; what had stopped him from seeing you during the previous three weeks?
Even though it wasn’t late, you found yourself getting ready for bed anyway, keeping the paper on the table downstairs and grabbing a book from Hans' office before curling beneath the sheets. Your eyes skimmed the words, not processing them, your brain too distracted by today’s events.
You weren’t quite sure how you “read” for, but you must’ve fallen asleep at some point. A loud noise, like a door being slammed, had you bolting upright, pulled out of your uneasy slumber, the book luckily not hitting the ground. When you didn’t hear anything for a few moments, you thought you had just imagined it, and you went to try and go back to bed. 
That was until you heard the sound of heavy footfalls. Shit. Tearing off the covers, you padded lightly across the wooden floor, wishing that Hans wasn’t so opposed to keeping guns in the house. You had nothing to defend yourself with, so kept to the shadows as you left the room. 
Reaching the top of the stairs, you flinched when you saw the shadow of a man making its way toward the stairs. You began to back away, back into the safety of your room, until you recognized the familiar silhouette of the man. Don’t tell me…
Cautiously, you made your way downstairs, barely making a noise. You had to stifle a gasp once you reached the bottom, your suspicions confirmed when you saw Arthur standing in your dining room, back to you, glancing over the newspaper you’d set on the table. His hair was longer, his clothing unkempt, but it was still the same man you had fallen for.
Too many emotions ran through you, from anger to longing to desire to sadness. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face, and so you just stood at the bottom of the stairs, shocked. 
Eventually, Arthur turned, the only sign of him being startled was his eyes widening. Those beautiful blue eyes that had haunted your thoughts, that you longed to see again. You let out a small gasp then, audible only to you. It was really hard to remain still, every fiber of your being craving to be in his arms again, to feel his lips on yours. 
Neither of you knew what to say, just staring at each other. Even in the low light, you could see that Arthur looked exhausted, bags under his eyes and his shoulders sagging. Being on the run would do that to a man. “So Javier wasn’t kiddin’. You’re alive.” You didn’t care that your voice was scathing. 
Javier must’ve said something to him, because Arthur didn’t seem surprised that you mentioned the other man. If you ever met him again, you’d have to thank him for sticking to his word about delivering a message. “I…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’ll leave.” Oh, how you missed his rugged voice. 
Arthur turned to head back out the front door. “Stay. Please.” You called out, making your voice softer, stopping him in his tracks. Don’t leave me again. 
He took a deep breath before turning back around, somethin like guilt on his features. “It’s been three weeks, Arthur.” You sighed out.
“I know, darlin’.” You nearly broke then, his name for you crumbling your resolve. Yet you held, fingers gripping the railing with a death grip. “There was an… incident-”
“The shootout in town,” you cut him off. “Don’t sugarcoat things. I know what you get up to. I know the things you’ve done.”
Arthur didn’t bother to try to disagree, and you were thankful for that. “After the shootout in Rhodes, I couldn’t risk comin’ over to see ya’.”
“I understand, but that was only a few days ago. Arthur, it's been three weeks.” You didn’t bother to hide the pain in your voice. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too.”
“Then where’ve you been?” He didn’t respond, and you laughed bitterly. “I thought you were dead, Arthur. Or you were about to be strung up in the gallows. Or you… I was worried sick, and the only reason I knew you weren’t dead was because Javier told me.”
“I’m sorry-”
“I don’t want your apology, I want an explanation.” You let go of the railing. “Why?” Arthur hung his head, and you began to step towards him. 
“You deserve somethin’ better, darlin’.”
“And you thought the best thing for me was to leave me alone and heartbroken. And who is this ‘someone better’ I deserve? Hans? No, I don’t think so.”
“I ain’t much better! You said it yourself, you know the things I’ve done. I’ve killed people, so many I’ve lost track. Hell, I was the one who killed Sheriff Gray. My whole life I’ve tricked and duped and betrayed people; I ain’t a good man’. You’re too sweet, too kind. You deserve somethin’ better than that, than me.”
“You think I didn’t know that you’ve hurt people, Arthur? You didn’t think when you said you were an outlaw that I wouldn’t, I don’t know, realize you’ve done some unlawful things? I know what kind of man you are, and who you claim to be, yet when I think of you I think of a man that is also good, generous, sweet.” You continued to move towards him, even as he shook his head. 
“A man that would come check up on a sad woman in the woods just ‘cause she asked, that would find her family’s address so she could write to them.” You were close enough to him that you could reach out and touch him.
“A man that’s made my miserable existence feel worthwhile, that has become the best goddamn part of my life.” His hands were shaking, you found when you took one of them in both of yours. Those familiar calloused fingers were oh so comforting, and you brought them close to your heart.
You took a deep breath. “A man that I’ve completely fallen in love with.”
His hands stopped shaking, or maybe yours were. You couldn’t tell. 
Arthur was speechless, but you could tell that he didn’t oppose your confession, because he pulled you closer. His free hand cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “You shouldn’t…”
“Too late now, Arthur.” You breathed out. “I… I love you.”
“You shouldn’t.” He repeated again with more edge, but you could see how conflicted he was. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from it.”
“How can you be so certain?” 
“Because every damn good thing in my life gets ruined. Every person I lo- care ‘bout, I make their lives worse, and they regret ever openin’ their hearts to me. Did ya know I almost married a girl, then I ruined that. I- I had a kid,” his voice grew thick with emotion, “and he’s no longer with us. All because of me, and the life I lead. All because wherever I go, someone’ll be huntin’ down the people I care about, no matter how innocent they are. I couldn’t live with myself if somethin’ happened to you ‘cause of me.”
Oh. You were speechless now, and your heart ached for the man in front of you. “Arthur… I can’t guarantee that somethin’ won’t happen to me, but do you really wanna live your life in fear, pushing away those who care about you?”
“I can’t lose you, darlin’. I can’t.” 
“But you almost did, pushin’ me away like that. What then?”
“I…” he took a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to hold the side of your neck gently. “I don’t know.”
“So don’t push me away. Yes, it’s terrifying, caring about someone like this. You don’t think I worry ‘bout you every time you’re not here? That I don’t worry that we’ll be found out, and this whole thing will come burning down around us? But isn’t it worth it? ”
He sighed, before resting his head against yours, his hat sliding back a bit. “It is.”
“Then mean it. To yourself. To me.” His lips were so close now, and you wanted nothing more than to close the space between them. You let go of his hand, choosing to rest your hands on his chest instead. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your fingers, just as fast as yours was. “I love you, Arthur, and there isn’t a damn thing you can say that’ll change that.”
Arthur exhaled shakily, and even in the dim light you could see a small smile on his lips. “And I’m grateful for your stubbornness.” You chuckled lightly at his words. “I’ve been a fool-”
“None of that. You ain’t a fool, Arthur.”
“Maybe not. But I’m a fool for you.” You rolled your eyes at his cheesy comment, knees growing weak at the now grin on his face. That dazzling, beautiful grin. But his expression sobered, and you temporarily feared the worst. “You should know that I do feel the same, darlin’. I really do. It’s just, I can’t…”
“You can’t say it back,” you refrained from sounding too crestfallen. You could be content with the fact that he agreed he felt the same. For now. He shook his head, looking ashamed, and you forced his gaze back up to yours when he tried to look away. “Then show me. Show me that you love me.”
“I could spend every last minute of my life showin’ you, and it still wouldn’t be enough time,” he chuckled, his thumb brushing just below your bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, and something darkened in them. “But I can certainly try.”
He leaned in, finally closing the distance, and you felt like you could cry with relief. His lips felt even better than you remembered, more desperate than you’d ever felt them. You dropped his hand, arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss you, his hat falling to the ground as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled away far too soon for your liking, the hand still holding your face brushing your cheek. “Darlin’, you’re cryin’,” he murmured, his brow creasing with concern. 
“Good tears,” you laughed, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “I just missed you, so much.”
Another flash of guilt appeared on his face. “You promise?”
“Promise.” He regarded you for a few moments, and you nearly pulled him back down yourself, desperate to feel his lips again. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait too long, because he was kissing you again, weeks of pent up longing, fear, and love being poured into it. It made you dizzy, and your fingers tangled further into his hair, eliciting a groan from the man. 
Arthur’s free hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he kissed you. They gripped even harder when you ran your tongue against his lips, not expecting you to take control of the kiss. He willingly let his lips part, letting you explore him with ease. 
You hadn’t even realized Arthur had moved until you felt your back hit a wall, the back of your head cradled by his hand. It made you groan, breaking away from the kiss, and Arthur wasted no time trialing his lips down your neck. Your head rolled back, letting out pleased sighs and light moans as he littered kisses across your neck, his facial hair ticking the sensitive skin.
“Arthur,” you groaned, hands still in his hair, and you felt him hum in response. 
“My beautiful girl,” you heard him mutter, more to himself than anything, and you were grateful for the stability the wall provided. The hand on your waist moved down, securing under your thigh and lifting it so that your leg wrapped around him. You inadvertently began to rock your hips, eliciting another delicious groan from Arthur.
“God, Arthur, I need you.” You didn’t care if you were pleading. You’d been plenty patient; you were allowed to be greedy. 
“I’m takin’ my time with ya. We’ve got all night.”
Another groan tore from your throat. All night. “You promise?” You asked, echoing his previous words. If he was promising all night, then you could be patient for a little while longer.
You felt him grin against your skin, nipping lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Promise.”
Author's Note: surprise javier appearance bam!
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dead-dove-yandere · 2 months
Text
OC Intro - ╹◡╹
Secret Admirer Yandere
??? ♡ ??? ♡ Human? ♡ Office Worker
TW: Stalking, obsession, delusional behaviour, threats, mention of a blade, implied kidnapping/murder
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♡ - You’re an office worker - it’s not your ideal job, but it pays the bills. You keep your work life strictly separate from the rest of your life, always keeping your head down and focusing on the task at hand rather than talking to any of your colleagues, but not working hard enough to get noticed for a promotion. You don’t plan to stick around in this career after all.
♡ - Any of your coworkers shouldn’t have known much about you at all. To be honest, you didn’t know much about any of them anyway. You were perfectly happy just blending into the background.
♡ - But, one Monday morning, as you near your desk, you notice something unusual. Pasted right on the corner of your computer monitor, sits a post it note. At first you assume someone missed you and wanted to leave a reminder for some kind of memo or meeting, but reading it sends a shiver down your spine.
♡ - “Have a wonderful day at work, honey. ╹◡╹”
♡ - You stare at the message on the yellow post it, written in red biro, trying to fathom who it’s from. You assume someone must have left it on the wrong desk by mistake, and throw the post it away.
♡ - The post its don’t stop though. Everyday you come to your desk and see a new one, all with similar cutesy messages, all signed off with that smiley face.
♡ - “Make sure to drink plenty of water! ╹◡╹”
♡ - “You look amazing today, honey. ╹◡╹”
♡ - “I miss you so much! ╹◡╹”
♡ - On Friday, you get sick of it. You go around, asking all your coworkers if their partners have perhaps got the wrong desk, but no one seems to recognise the handwriting.
♡ - Giving it up as a bad job, you decide to talk to HR about it once Monday rolls around again.
♡ - The weekend comes as a bit of relief, but it doesn’t last long.
♡ - Monday inevitably arrives, and again, there is a post it note on your desk. You do a quick tour of the office, hoping to perhaps catch the culprit, but everyone has yellow post it notes on their desk - there is no way to tell who it is from.
♡ - You go to HR, but there is little they can do for you without any knowledge or proof of who is leaving them. Deflated, you go back to your desk and work, trying to focus but unable to.
♡ - When Friday rolls around again, the note reads differently than usual.
♡ - “You seemed stressed, honey. Let me take you out tonight - my treat. Meet me at 7, at that restaurant we both like. Wear something nice. ╹◡╹”
♡ - You haven’t a clue what restaurant they mean, and even if you did, there is no way in hell you are going with some stranger that seems to have some strange one sided love for you. You crumple the note in frustration and throw it away, as you have with all the other post it notes.
♡ - Monday arrives again, but this time instead of a note, it seems there is a letter.
♡ - it’s written on the standard issue memo paper found anywhere around the office. It seems crumpled and tear stained. Whoever is writing them seems to have switched from a red biro to a red ink pen, but the ink seems oddly dark and brown.
♡ - “Honey. I waited for you all night. You never showed. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? How humiliating it was to be sobbing in the middle of the restaurant? I came back here at the weekend and found all my love notes for you in your bin. Why are you so cruel? Did I do something wrong? Do you not love me anymore? You’re coming home tonight. I let you stay at your own place long enough, I know new couples need time before moving in together but this has gone too far. You haven’t even visited or called or texted once. Come home. We have some serious discussion to do. ╹︵╹”
♡ - You can’t bring yourself to get any work done, you can’t bring yourself to eat, you can’t even bring yourself to try and tell HR again. You stand up and do another lap of the office, carefully examining everyone’s faces, trying to work out who might have sent this damned letter, but you can’t tell. You haven’t even the faintest idea.
♡ - You eye all your coworkers with suspicion, until finally you can’t take it anymore and hide in the toilets. You stay there, frightened to leave, right up until it’s time to clock out, and even then, it takes you a long time to work up the courage to leave.
♡ - When you finally get out, the office is empty. There is no one else there, apart from you. You find the darkened cubicles eerie, yet you breathe a sigh of relief anyway. Surely that must mean the note writer is gone too? You run out into the car park, making a mad dash for it, then stop short just as your car comes into view.
♡ - It’s covered in post it notes of varying colours, each one scrawled in that weird red ink. Some are angry, others plead for your forgiveness or return. Every single one is wet with tear stains.
♡ - You freeze. You have to call the police - you’ve let this go one long enough. You take a step back, ready to run back to the office and hole yourself up until the police arrive, only to stop when you feel a knife against your back and hear a voice you don’t recognise.
♡ - “Oh honey, you aren’t getting away with this that easily…”
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Personality
The most mysterious of all, “Smiley” (╹◡╹) hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that it wouldn’t be obvious to their darling who they are. In their eyes, they’re already with their darling, and their tactics are less trying to get close to their daring and moreso engaging in what they think is cute couple behaviour. When their darling ignores or dismisses their bids for attention? Well, hell hath no fury like a lover scorned. It’s probably too late for their darling by the time they finally see the face of their admirer.
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Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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I HAVE WRITTEN SO MUCH IN MY NOTES IN THE PAST HOUR OH MY of today n then to-do dump n other stuff too 🫣
#🌙.rambles#i write my answers for asks in my notes like i'm writing my first draft for an essay 😭😭 tbf writing long stuff here on tumblr is like#writing letters to me. i love it so so much. i ended up ranting in my to-do list though cries. that said tho.... one thing i wrote here tha#i want to ramble about in tags. thinking abt college since some relatives asked earlier. since i'm aiming to head into top unis here yh#not gna have my close friends to be in school w which makes me a bit sad 🥹 but god i'd love to one day experience studying w friends#at houses or cafes or libraries. one thing i'm excited abt growing up is having more freedom in going out w people#also thinking abt how i love childhood friends to lovers so. i want my own in a way. but ion have ^ that r potential love interests tho so#friends i have in hs are what i'd next ideally like if it were possible. cries that would be my ideal type bcs i love the idea of#growing up together in these somewhat vulnerable stages i think. we're all learning so much n so young. but nah not gna happen most likely#wna reconnect w my old friends to keep contact n widen my circle. more friends. friend groups. i'm not the most social person esp irl but#i think for most of my life i've had inconsistent friendships so it's gotten lonely? closest friends r kinda drifting away as we grow older#n w everything in the present i think i'm afraid of being left behind. i wish i cld open up. be more honest and less hesitant w reaching ou#i know what i want n i'm just afraid to seek it out directly but. anxiety. i don't want to be a bother but i rlly crave#deep and authentic relationships. i'd really seek them out but maybe the inner child in me can't really let that guard down yet ?#deep down i think i'm afraid of being hurt again n left behind. forgotten. (don't leave me behind. please stay with me. tell me it's real)#there's so much i don't want to forget. so much i want to hold unto. so much i want to do. that keeps me going. i want to learn so much#listening to kingdom hearts right now is making me emotional.... now that i'm growing older i want to do so much more#was nearly crying while writing this in my notes because it hurts so much and i think i'm so so afraid#love... whether it be familial or platonic. one day romantic too. goddamn listening to don't think twice reminds me of my young dreamer sel#& love for life as a whole n myself too. i want to keep my childhood. i'll have what i can. do what i can. ffs life's too short so#i'll reach out more. even if i get anxious embarrassed shy / i need to actively challenge that. even if i'm afraid. face my fears#like goddamn i want to open up i want to be honest. i'm not embarrassed by my emotions bcs it's human. but i just can't#i'll do it all. i really will. life goes by far too fast and i don't want to lose all of this. so i need to be stronger. better#but simultaneously i just want to rest n idk be a kid again and stop thinking and worrying so much#adolescence.... holding unto my childhood while also making steps towards adulthood. n i'm so afraid but i know it'll be alright#so long as i trust myself ? i know a lot of pain. i'm certain that i'm capable. but. ffs. tears in my eyes. (i'm afraid. i'm so afraid aren#sorry for the rant i just realized again n. yk i'm human n that's something i need to be constantly reminded of#spending time with people and indulging in my passions give me life but. the former is so fleeting n i'm afraid of being left alone#the latter is so hard when time's going far too fast and it feels like i can't keep up with it all#'don't think twice' : 'if you want to make it happen/ nothing's impossible / all you gotta do is say the word/ the walls will crumble'
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an-idyllic-novelist · 3 months
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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.
Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.
If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)
Reblog to support content creators!
Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.
 Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way. 
So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around. 
Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you. 
You, who believed in Charlie’s work.
You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.
You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it. 
He lost the ability to feel anything years ago. 
Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others. 
You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much. 
In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner.  They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk. 
When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess. 
Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do. 
Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day. 
When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out. 
He saw you cook  finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish  even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands. 
He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War. 
Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit. 
A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day. 
Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it. 
Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake  whiny bitch. 
As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that. 
And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.
It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong. 
One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel. 
Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them. 
Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore. 
Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no. 
That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a  shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle. 
THUD.
Shnk.
THUD.
C-crack.
THUD.
“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!” 
“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other. 
He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army.  When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck. 
He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply. 
Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around  scratching, kicking,  and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.
The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off  him and inhaling deep gulps of  precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands. 
“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting. 
Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right. 
“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?” 
“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed  your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character. 
You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked. 
“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”
“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.
“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.
“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”
“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”
“Yes.”
“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”
“Yes.”
“Food for plants.”
“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones. 
Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin. 
“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?” 
Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?
You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of them, they made quick work with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts. 
You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a  block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too. 
Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass. 
Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it. 
Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards. 
They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.
You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. 
“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone. 
“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest. 
“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.” 
Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right.  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering. 
He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse. 
Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck. 
He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”
Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit. 
You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”
Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw  before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.
“What-”
“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there? 
So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below,  your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.
You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places. 
It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination. 
Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his. 
He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.” 
A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”
You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.
“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”
You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”
“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special. 
You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight. 
“It’s done.”
“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”
You faltered. “But -”
“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.
Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking. 
But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight. 
As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms. 
“Husk?”
“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass. 
“Thank you…for everything.”
His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome." 
He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory? 
And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens. 
What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter. 
Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats
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taking-thyme · 6 months
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The Structure of a Pagan Prayer
When appealing to a deity or making an offering, it’s wise to know how this was traditionally done in the past so you can be as respectful as possible and build a true reciprocity with the gods. This type of prayer structure is found in all manner of pagan religions from Norse paganism, Hellenic (Greek) polytheism, Kemetic (Egyptian) prayer and so on. I got the inspiration and much of the information here from @Ocean Keltoi on Youtube who is a fantastic scholar and Norse heathen who actively stands against prejudice and is all around a wonderful resource. 
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Now, there are three main elements of a pagan prayer, which should be done in this order:
1. The Invocation. This is where you call upon the specific god you’re hoping to connect with. Think of it as writing the name and address on your letter to the Gods - it lets the deity know that this prayer is directed at them, which is important in a polytheistic religion with many gods. To start your invocation, address the deity directly by name, or use an epithet or kenning that they're known by. It's especially wise to choose an epithet that relates to what you're praying for, like using one of Apollo's healer epithets while addressing him in a prayer about a loved one's sickness,  for instance. It’s also a good idea to praise them highly and with a certain air of reverence. These are ancient deities after all. 
2. The Argument. Here you give your reasons for why a deity should fulfill your request and favor you. If you’ve brought offerings, cite them here. You can also include reasons for why you’re reaching out, such as love in a prayer for Aphrodite or matters of justice with the god Tyr. This is where you make your case to them. And if you’re reaching out to a deity you don’t have a working relationship with, which let’s be honest will be the case many more times than we’d like, then you can tell them this here also. A good example might be “Oh Tyr, one-handed war god and son of Odin, though we have not met before I have heard your name and been called to it…”
3. The Request. Finally you ask the gods to look kindly on your request and to grant you their blessing. Again, be as respectful and reverent as possible towards them. 
Prayer Example: “Grey-eyed Athena, daughter of thundering Zeus, if ever I have poured out sweet wine for you, look kindly on me and grant me your wisdom.”
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How to stand when making the prayer
This depends on which God you’re reaching out to and, of course, your own personal comfort. The most common ways of praying are to stand and perform some gesture of reverence, kneel while praying and even prostrate, kneeling fully on the ground with your head down as you appeal to the gods. Some might also choose to wear veils when performing prayers or rituals for deities, though this is naturally up to the individual. 
In Hellenic tradition, if you’re praying to an Ouranic god (deities of the heavens) you would traditionally wear your hair up and stand with your arms raised to the heavens while reciting your prayer. Meanwhile, if you are praying to a Chthonic god (deities of the underworld), you would kneel and face downwards towards the Earth with your hair flowing freely. 
Some Norse sources tell of ancient pagans prostrating before the gods, and yet this is still not entirely necessary. Pray however you see fit and what is most comfortable for you at the moment. 
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^ This is what prostrating looks like
Sources:
Ocean Keltoi's video on pagan prayers
Hearth and Fire Work's blog post on Hellenic prayer structure
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schrodinger-swriter · 3 months
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The main cast of Hazbin hotel on Valentine's day
I know I may be a little late. I had to do some shopping today and hadn't had the motivation or time to get down and write until now! I apologize is some characters are given more writing than others... the truth is that I am bised for some characters or simply have more for them. :C
Regardless I hope you enjoy these, I likely won't do these large posts very often.
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CHARLIE:
I hope you can forgive me for being a little short on Charlie's part, I had stated earlier what she would do for the holiday in an alphabet post! But to recap she makes you a mixtape with songs dedicated to you, songs made by her and songs she knows you like! The case is handmade too, covered in hearts as well as having a hand written note inside further expressing her affections for you. She would also give you some of your favorite candies! Expect to go out and do something fun and romantic too!
VAGGIE:
Much lower compared to her canon partner, Vaggie is not much of an enjoyer of the holiday. She keeps her thoughts to it to herself, though sometimes you might find her grumbling about all the pink and the red. She just doesn't enjoy the aesthetic all that much. However despite that she will still participate if she knows it will make her significant other happy! She would get you something small, like a stuffed animal and some flowers.
ANGEL DUST:
Respectfully stealing this idea from my mutual, but he already gets so many gifts and cards from his crazed horny fans. He hardly has the room for any more! Though.. he probably sells a lot of it for some extra cash, only keeping some of the candies. If you get him something, he probably wouldn't sell it. He's actually touched. In terms of what he does for you, he might treat you to a night full of him... in more ways than one if you're open to it. If you don't feel like going out he's fine with staying inside and watching some movies in his rooms... perhaps it's a deserved break after a rough day during the love season.
ALASTOR:
Similar to Vaggie, Alastor wouldn't do much. He understands the purpose of the holiday, but he simply. Does not care for it all that much. However I do rather enjoy the though of Alastor sending letters to his friends (Mimzy, Rosie, Niffty, ect). He even puts them in fancy envelopes and seals them with wax. How nice is that? If he can, he might even send a box of chocolates. Fingers, in Rosie's case. However, he doesn't do much to celebrate outside of that. That's assuming he sends anything at all, anyway.
SIR PENTIOUS:
He would go all out. He might even make a machine dedicated to you and gift it. He makes a mechanical heart that beats and gives it to you. He gives you all of the candy he can get his hands on, not exactly sure what you prefer. He takes you out for the night, to the nicest restaurant he can go to without getting jumped (because let's be honest... his days of trying to pick fights and climb to power has probably landed him with some enemies...). He's a total gentleman on the date, opening the door for you and pushing in your chair for you. Considering he's a little flustered that he is on a date with you, everything goes smoothly.
HUSKER:
He likes to stay in, but you can count that if you manage to get him to go out it's going to be a to a club or bar. Anywhere with alcohol. He'd much rather prefer a bar, since it's usually... lower in energy. He also isn't much of a Valentine's person, and he does show his disdain. He does tone down on talking negatively about the day around you, so there's that at least. A simple night in with an affirmation of love is enough for Husk.
NIFFTY:
She bakes you something and perhaps sews you something. A red throw pillow in the shape of a heart. Though you may have to tell her that's what you want because otherwise she's going to try something akin to the roach crown.... shivers... The baked goods are actually pretty good, and you'll be snacking on them for the rest of the week due to Niffty getting too excited and making too many. She will stab someone with a needle if they try to take one without asking you first.
LUCIFER:
He also goes all out, it might actually be a little overwhelming! He can conjure nearly anything he can think of, if his song was being literal! He wants to make sure you're loved, and that there's no possible way that you would ever think otherwise. Despite this he might rather stay inside, or maybe alter the home to look more fancy to make a mock dinner. Generally very sweet and you will be drowning in gifts from the second you wake up to the minute you go to sleep. He also makes you breakfast in bed.
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hepbaestus · 3 months
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A letter from Ramon (with description)
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[Start ID: Eight screenshots of a letter from Ramon the egg to Fit, his father on the QSMP
Dear Dad, I struggle a lot writing letters, something about the permanence of letters has always bothered me, I don't know what it is but that's unimportant because I worked hard on writing this one.
2. This day has been in the making for over a month now. A lot of ideas were made and a lot of ideas were scrapped. I wanted the best for you and while this is a lot more extravagant than what we are use to, it seemed fitting to me because I only want the best for you.
3. To be perfectly honest, I don't really know what to write. I want to express how much you mean to me and I want to tell you how being your son has impacted me but I feel like I wouldn't be able to word how big my admiration for you is.
4. I admire you a lot for overcoming every obstacle that has been put into your path. I admire you a lot for overcoming the darkness of a wasteland looming over your shoulders. I admire you a lot for facing danger head on, for surviving that long on an island that wants us dead.
5. I love the dungeons we conquer together, the frequent theft we commit (passa tudo (everything passes) :D). And the way your voice softens when you say my name. I also love how you let me have my tantrums and let me have my fun.
6. I want to express that I love the lullabies every night, even if I've been your son for 10 months now. I want to express that I love every nickname you give me, even if some would probably get me ridiculed (but that's okay because I like them), I want to express that it's an honour to be your son.
7. Thank you, dad, this opportunity to be a part of your life and accepting me as your son. As you have given everything to me, I would give anything to you.
8. te quiero mucho (I love you a lot) dad, happy birthday :D your son, Ramon. /EndID]
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Note
Hey, so your Tanjiro Reader post gave me an idea. And I just wanted to leave it here, and you can write something if you like it.
But I just thought of a Gyutaro Reader, who gets dragged into Twisted Wonderland with her Daki like little brother.
Just the yanderes falling in love with Reader and trying to court her (in their own obsessive ways), but dealing with her bratty little brother who hates the idea of anyone dating his big sister.
This could be due to Reader being deemed ugly in their previous world, Daki is afraid that the yanderes are just leading Reader on with the intention of humiliating her. Or Daki just hating the idea of a boy stealing Reader away from him.
My rant's over now. I hope you have a great day/night! Keep up the amazing work!
Thanks for the support! 🖤🖤🖤
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Gyutaro Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Falling into their world with your little sibling in tow, it’s hard to believe others could look past your demonic self and shortcomings. Your little sibling’s idea of protection garners on who will actually survive their initial purge of people they consider to be faking it. If they do then your sweet sibling makes a point to beat them so close to death they’ll have no choice to be honest:
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Rook Hunt
“(Y/n)’s beauty is unmatched! I wish to serve them everyday!”
“Lies! You’re fast but not fast enough! If you can survive my sash’s capture than maybe I’ll let you have a chance!”
If Rook cheerfully returns to see you with multiple bandages he’ll just say ‘labors of love’
Your sibling is suddenly a lot less critical of the cursive love-letter
“If you do want to date him I guess that’s okay…but if he hurts you we eat him.”
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Kalim Al Asim
“What?! How dare you so openly continue to lie about your affection!? I should tear you to shreds right now!” 
“But I’m not lying. I love (Y/n) with all my heart!”
Call your sibling materialistic but she realizes how quickly he pays for things that you mention you like
Or paying to take you on not-so friendly hangouts
But even without that his beaming smile and honesty make them harder to interrogate
And then there’s Jamil
So they might let their guard down
If only to turn around and snap his neck when his bodyguard’s not there
Too bad he’s oh so diligent
And Kalim is far too persistant
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Dear John || Pt.1
Masters of the Air Fanfiction
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Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.
Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.
It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.
Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.
Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?
Dear A.C.O.R.N.
It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.
There. Said it.
Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.
I am quite drunk, you see.
A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.
A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.
I could write anybody from here. I could write you.
And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.
You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.
Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.
You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.
And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.
But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:
You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.
Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.
Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.
Because we do, ma’am. We do.
And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.
If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.
~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan
P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.
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Masterlist
Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.
Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.
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coxxxmo · 3 months
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𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝
[0] 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿
Masterlist
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Dear Future Husband,
To you who has taken away my solitude through the storms in your eyes, to you who has taken over all of my living dreams,your gaze is a tempest that renders my world beautifully chaotic - I hope this letter finds its way to you dearest one.
Tell me, is there a new envoy in your company? Passing my messages to you? Does the moon whisper to you the musings I’ve shared about you? Has it told you of my deepest desires? In the quiet of the night, lately I have been finding solace in the company of the moon. I’ve been telling it all about you - your beautiful smile that makes my heart stop, your laughter that resonates like a melody in my mind, your eyes that stir something unknown deep within me, your voice that echoes within me and the heaven knows, I just can’t seem to get you out of my head.
Like the faceless man in my dreams, you have been haunting me; You have been haunting me with your whirlpool of existence which is sure to stir up my entire world if I get too close. 
But Isn't it romantic that, beneath the vast expanse of the same sky, we share a celestial connection? As we both look upon the stars that decorate the night sky, the same moon that graces your night sky also bathes mine in its gentle glow, creating a luminous thread that connects both of us. 
I’ll be honest; I’m not exactly sure how this love letter thing works, but all I know is that I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. Archons, I crave you, and I crave your touch. The idea of us kissing feels like a storm inside me, and I can't help but want you close to myself.
When I think about holding your hand and drawing little patterns with our fingers, it feels like magic. There's something pulling me towards you, and it's stronger than anything else. These feelings feel new to me and I'm still figuring them out like getting lost in a maze. Even then my heart always seems to point toward you, and each day, that pull becomes even stronger.
With each word, I'm sharing a part of my heart. As I fold this letter and seal it with a kiss, it holds not just my words but the promise of the future yet you come. Until our paths cross, and until the day I can call you mine. I send this letter off to the unknown, leaving it at the hands of the fates weaving our story.
Yours Lovingly.
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⤷ Synopsis :
In a world dominated by algorithms and measured affections, where love is dissected as a complex equation, Will the pursuit of love transcend the boundaries of logic? Can the heart, guided by a mere letter, lead to a connection that defies reason?
Are you willing to take the journey where the lines between reason and romance blur? Will you be drawn into a completely different world, or will your story continue along its familiar course?
But above all, the burning question remains: whose doorstep will become the final destination for this seemingly innocuous letter?
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Modern!au
⤷ pairing : genshin men x reader
⤷ taglist : @sako-mii @oni-girx @chevcore @moonlybxbe @rachoka @sangoqueenkoko @veekoko
⤷ a/n : AHHHHH IM DONE WRITING THE LETTER AFTER AGES. It was harder than it seemed I'll be honest....BUT now that the story starts It'll be much more fun, trust me. Hoping that the other parts are more regular..
Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡
Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!!
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toppersjeep · 6 months
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Part 2- Where Do We Go Now - Lando Norris X Reader
Masterlist
[tag list: @aundercover @landologg ]
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Your POV
“Y/N I can’t give you the answer that you want to hear” Max said. “Seriously Max” I said. “What to you want me to do lie to you” Max said. “For once in your life just be honest with me” I said getting up off the couch. “Are you seriously gonna fight me over this” Max said.
“You don’t get it I want a future with you I’m asking you if you want the same” I said. His phone then rang. It was Christian calling him. “I gotta answer that babe we can talk after” Max said.
“I won’t be here when you do that” I said. “Seriously your leaving” Max said. “I don’t know Max what’s more important me or Red Bull” I said looking him in the eyes. The phone still rang. He looked at me and at the phone.
“Yeah hello” Max said answering the phone. “Exactly my point” I said. I then went into our room and put some pants on and a hoodie. I grabbed a small bag of stuff. I walked out. He was still on the phone with Christian.
I walked past him grabbing the keys to my car. I then grabbed my purse too and laptop bag.
“Y/N give me a minute okay.. sorry Chris she’s trying to get my attention” Max said. “I’m leaving” I said walking out the door slamming it shut. I then went to my car putting my bags in the trunk. I drove to Landos place. I’d hope he’d let me stay.
If not the next best option was Kika or Lily. But I knew that going to Lando first would be a good idea. I parked my car in his driveway and walked up with my bags.
I knocked on the door. Not realizing what time it was. I’d hopped he’d be awake. He then opened the door rubbing his eyes.
“Y/N … it’s 2 in the morning what’s up” Lando said. “I got into a fight with Max can I stay” I asked. “Of course come in” Lando said I went in to his house. “I should’ve called or something” I said. “No it’s okay” Lando said. “He’s just so” I said.
“Annoying yeah” Lando said. “I don’t know what to do about him anymore” I said. “I’ll set you up in the guest room” Lando said taking my bags. “Thanks” I said following him.
“Well you know where everything is.. so my home is your home I guess” Lando said showing me to the guest room. “Thanks Lan” I said. “Ignore the uhh pictures everywhere of me” Lando said. “Your race wins its cute” I said looking at the pictures on the wall.
“There’s extra towels in the bathroom closet… umm yeah that’s about it” Lando said. “Oh and my room is next door so don’t be loud” Lando said. “Me loud do you still snore” I said. “Guess we find out huh” Lando said.
“Thanks Lan” I said. “Yeah and please take that Red Bull hoodie off” Lando said. “Right sorry” I said. “I’m kidding but uhh there’s ,cool quadrant hoodies in the closet so steal one” Lando said. “Thanks again” I said.
“Yeah no problem good night” Lando said shutting the door.
The next day
I woke up and got ready for the day. Lando was in the kitchen making breakfast. I then saw flowers on the counter.
“Those are for you I guess” Lando said. “From who” I asked. “I’m assuming Max there’s a card on them” Lando said. “He must know he messed up badly” I said. “Yeah probably” Lando said.
I opened up the card. And read it.
It said:
Y/N, I wish you could see yourself in my eyes. I hear how you always doubt yourself and compare yourself to other people. There is nobody in this world quite like you. The way you laugh the way you smile. Every time I look at you I fall more in love with you.
I really love you. And you deserve so much. I just love the way your eyes sparkle when you are happy. But I hate when you are sad. All I want to do is pull you closer to me and tell you how much I love and care for you. So this is my way of showing it. This is one of many gifts you’ll be receiving.
___
“That’s so sweet” I said. “Here’s breakfast” Lando said handing me a plate. “Max must’ve done this” I said smiling. “Did he write you the letter or did he have his assistant do it” Lando said. “Lando it’s definitely handwritten” I said.
“Well I was just curious you I know I don’t seem Max as romantic” Lando said. “That’s because you don’t like love” I said. “It’s not that I don’t like it” Lando said. “You’ll find someone maybe even as sassy as you are Lando” I said.
“I don’t know if I will I mean there was someone” Lando said. “Yeah” I said. “But who am I kidding anyway” Lando said setting his plate in the sink. “You don’t know unless you try” I said. He looked out the window.
“She’s just way out of my league you know I’ve always thought that” Lando said. “That’s now I felt about Max and now look at us” I said. “But this is different Y/N way different” Lando said. “You know you can talk to me about this stuff” I said.
“The problem is that I doubt she’ll ever feel the same way I do” Lando said. “Then show her maybe this girl is blinded Lando” I said. “Maybe she is your right” Lando said.
We made it back to the track for the next race. I walked in with Lando. I then found Max and went over to talk to him.
“Y/N hey” Max said I kissed him. “What was all that for love thought we were fighting” Max said. “The flowers and the note it was so sweet” I said hugging him. “Yeah I felt bad after the fight last night” Max said. “Well thank you I loved it” I said.
“So you’ll come home later” Max said. “Of course I will” I said he kissed me. “Y/N we have meetings let’s go” Lando said. “So yeah I’ll see you later I love you” I said. “Love you too” Max said.
We then went into the McLaren paddock for a meeting. I sat beside Lando.
“So yesterdays qualifying was great but today we gotta do the same” Zak said. “I think Lando performed great we can go for P1” I said. “Yeah he did but still P2 gets us good points” Zak said.
“For once we have a car that can beat Red Bull you saw how fast we were” Lando said. “I did Lando but some laps weren’t as good as the last couple” he added. “So what he’s right we can best RB” I said.
“Y/N you had great strategies yesterday we know that” Zak said. “Are you even listening to her she knows we can beat them so let’s at least try” Lando said. “Zak have some faith in your drivers and me” I said. “I do have faith in you both I do” Zak said.
After the meeting got out Lando and I were both heated. Zak wasn’t even listening to us about how we could beat them.
“He shouldn’t talk to you like that” Lando said. “Uhh thank you for sticking up for me” I said. “Of course I got your back always” Lando said placing a hand oh my shoulder.
“I mean I knew getting into this sport I’d have issues” I said. “You still are way better than half the men and that’s coming from a man” Lando said I laughed. “You are just saying that” I said.
“No I’m serious you are amazing Y/N on the track and off the track..there’s nobody in this world quite like you” Lando said. “That means a lot Lando” I said. “Well it’s true you know” Lando said. “I heard the food is better here” Kika said walking through the door.
“Kika oh my goodness I’m so happy your here” I said hugging her. “I had to come visit my favorite gasly of course” Kika said. “Oh I’m not my brother though Ki” I said she smiled.
“Can I steal her for lunch” Kika said. “Yeah go on have fun” Lando said. “Thank you now come on you have to fill me in” Kika said. “I absolutely will” I said.
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 3)
My brain has gone on with this idea and I love where it is going. Yippee!
TW: Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worshipping
🎥 This has gone on long enough! In just a few weeks since that interview, the letters and pictures have increased tenfold! You keep finding Wally in the oddest of places, like on your desk, in the lounge, or even next to your locker. It constantly feels like eyes are watching you.
🎥 Even the contents of the letters are getting stranger. They were always odd and creepy, but at least before they had lighthearted words in them. Now they're saying things like "You're the air I breathe and all I see. You make my days better or worse. You keep me warm and keep this neighborhood bright! Please, never abandon me!" It's all written in that messy crayon writing, too, which makes an eerie contrast to the words that makes you sick. It seems so childishly unaware of how disturbing the words are when thought about for too long.
🎥 The drawings aren't much better. Nine out of ten times, they include you in some way. From the pictures just including you, including you and the characters from Welcome Home, to - worst of all, in your opinion - you in real life places. You sitting at your desk. You sleeping in the lounge. You getting a cookie at the snack stand during the interview. There's even one of you putting on your coat at the lockers. The drawings may not be the highest quality, but they are detailed enough to both be recognizable places and to alarm you.
🎥 You have an idea of who it might be. It's gotta be Wally's voice actor. They were his puppeteer before their arthritis kicked in. They just couldn't move their hands enough to properly puppet him anymore, always complaining that it hurt, despite the medications they took. But, the producer did decide to keep them as Wally's voice actor, saying that nobody could replicate his distinct laughter, tone of speech, and voice pitch. Despite this, Wally's voice actor was properly ticked and hated the fact they were replaced. They're always acting passive aggressive towards you. It must be them, probably to try to scare you away.
🎥 Today, you have decided to confront them. Marching over to their recording booth, you knock on the door. When they open it, they have that signature glare that would put even Frank's to shame. Before they can even ask what you want, you tell them all about what has been going on and how you know they have been doing it. They have to be behind it. All of these drawings and letters have Wally's signature writing and art style. The only person that knows Wally more than you is his voice actor. It HAS to be them!
🎥 They grow silent, before looking at the pictures and letters. Then, they look up at you and say, in the most matter of fact tone "I haven't been able to draw or write anything in character for a YEAR, (Y/N). What makes you think I would put myself through the pain of trying to replicate it after all this time, with my horrible joints, just to frighten YOU, of all people? You aren't worth my time, much less my comfort. You got any other evidence to accuse me of this... Whatever this is?"
🎥 You grow silent. To be honest, thinking back on it, it really is a stupid idea that they would do all of this to scare you. If they couldn't even muster up the energy to go out of their way to verbally confront you, then it would be shocking for them to put the effort to write and draw things to do so. You still have one more question, though...
🎥"What about the voice I've been hearing? It sounds just like Wally. You are his voice actor. You have gotta know something."
🎥 Their eyes grow wide. Then, they shrug "The one that has been saying things about... well, something. It's always a bit too muffled to hear exactly what it is. I thought you somehow improved your Wally impression and were practicing in order to replace me completely. Your impression may be off enough for the producers to care, but it was always the best one here. You're telling me you aren't the one making that voice?"
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justporo · 12 days
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A Love Letter
"Quite contrary to what you might believe, I have never written a love letter. Quick notes with sweet innocents on them or naughty promises, surely, loads of those. But not like this, never."
When Astarion hears that you never in your life have a received a love letter he takes it upon himself to change that.
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MASTERLIST | AO3
Author's Note: It's been a while hasn't it? I hope to get back into the saddle with writing after I took a bit of a break. And what better thing to come back with than a very cheesy, self-indulgent thing? I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!
Pairing: Astarion/named Tav (Fox/You) Warnings: light mention of past trauma Wordcount: 2,7k
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You had never really been very much into these romantic things. You didn’t have the time for that pretty nonsense. Or maybe it was that you just never had gotten to experience it. And so you made yourself believe that.
So when you mentioned to Astarion that you never once in your life had received a love letter and was imagining how it might be, the vampire felt he had to do something about it. He wasn’t very much into these things either; things that felt just performative.
But after all, he knew with you this wasn’t the case - at all.
So one night, a while after you had mentioned this, and Astarion was out to run errands you found an envelope on the table in your kitchen - and next to it a singular deep red tulip.
On the envelope you saw your name in Astarion’s elegant handwriting written in gold ink - with a few wholly unnecessary but beautiful extra swirls around it.
With a fiendish smile on your lips you opened the letter and were surprised by several pages falling out of it. All of course written in Astarion’s neat hand. You brushed your hair out of your face, feeling that you needed to look presentable for this.
The letter read:
“My darling Fox,
Quite contrary to what you might believe, I have never written a love letter. Quick notes with sweet innocents on them or naughty promises, surely, loads of those. But not like this, never.
This is different, you are different! And you being different means I am now sitting here while you’ve gone to bed already ages ago by dim candle light with several pages of parchment because I know - I know - I will need them to even just scratch the surface. But right now, to be perfectly honest with you, I am a little lost for words as I sit here with a goblet of wine. I’m trying to warm up to this idea of me actually trying to lay bare what I usually don’t share with anyone. Not even with you.
Not because I don’t want to. But because I struggle with letting someone in. But you were so patient with me thus far. I hope you’ll be patient with me for this as well. This is my third attempt to write something that feels right. Something that feels true and not make-believe…
But bear with me as I am working to get the hang of this. Can’t really call myself a consummate lover if I don’t get this one down, can I?
Let’s start over, shall we?
I could tell you about every single little detail I adore about you: like the way your pretty silver eyes light up when you grin at me. Every single freckle you have, which I am sure I know by heart by now - every single one. Or how your smile is so beautiful that it makes even my undead and rotten heart flutter in my chest. How you get these delightful full body blushes when I pull you into my arms, still, no matter how long we���ve been together. How wonderfully sharp your tongue is and how witty you are, my little minx. How you curse worse than a sailor and drink at least as much as one, my little swashbuckling rebel. How you do everything to not be treated by a lady but then swoon when I try it on you anyways.
Or I could tell you how much I adore your kindness. How you worry so deeply about your friends and how loyal you are.
Or how I might roll my eyes every time you stop in the streets to pet one of the stray cats but actually love how you care even for the tiniest and most ragged critters, showering them with your honest affection.
Because isn’t that just like what you’ve done with me?
You looked at me - hells, I held a knife to your delicate neck! - and despite all odds you decided: you liked that one. Despite all the pain, all the suffering, all the trauma, all the patience you needed and all the good will. I couldn’t get rid of you - thankfully.
You kept me, you cared for me. And when I was unable to let you in, you let me in first, taking a leap of faith.
I could see it in your eyes first.
Your beautiful silver eyes and how they always betray just what you think and feel. Maybe not to everyone, but to me. Trust me, I’ve spent quite some time looking at them.
And at some point I looked at you. Your eyes were just so open and I just knew.
You saved me, Fox.
I know I told you before. But I need you to understand that I wouldn’t be here with you if I was without you. You stayed with me through all of this, you helped me every step of the way without really expecting anything in return.
And now I am more than just “still here”, more than just a hollow husk, void of life: I am free - and with you I am even whole.
You radiate so much joy and love and life. You care. Despite your own beatings and betrayals in life, you've never given up on believing that better days are ahead. Not even for a moment.
My stubborn little thing, who couldn't love you when you come barging into people's lives like this. You have your way of just grabbing people by the hand and pulling them with you, saying yes to the good things that happen and fuck off to the bad ones.
And you were right. Better days were, for once, just around the corner.
I feel violently alive when I'm with you.
And it's scary and even hurts sometimes. But it is so incredibly beautiful, joyous and breathtaking that I won't have it any other way.
It's like you pulled me right from that grave into your loving arms. And to my own surprise your embrace and how my name sounds on your lips weighs so much heavier than what has come before.
You haven’t given up on me. For some reason beyond my own comprehension you see something in me. Maybe some day you’ll help me understand too.”
You took a moment to let the words settle with you, your fingertips running over the neat cursive letters. It wasn’t lost on you that there were some specks on the bottom of the page. Like drops had fallen on it. Some had blurred the ink of the final words at the bottom where the handwriting, you realised, had gotten just a tiny bit shaky.
Tears were burning dangerously in your eyes, a knot forming in your throat as your eyes wandered back over the words, not daring yet to move on. And when a teardrop fell from your cheeks onto the paper, mixing in with the others already there you couldn’t help the small laugh escaping you. Knowing exactly the way the writer must have felt bringing these words down onto the parchment.
Then you read on.
“Enough of this sentimental nonsense now, let us move on to more important matters.”
You laughed out loud reading this as the first sentence on the next page. The handwriting as elegant as ever again. And you could quite clearly imagine how the vampire must’ve brushed away his “nonsensical” tears with a pout to regain his composure before he began writing again.
You kept on reading.
“You must’ve realised by now that I am quite a selfish man. I have absolutely no intention of letting you go, my love.
When I told you that you were the first person who I truly cared for, I meant it.
For as long as you will have me by your side and for as long as my immortal life, you will not get rid of me. I hope you thought this rightfully through when you said you wanted to be with me.
For as long as you want me to, I will do everything in my power to keep you as happy and healthy as you are now.
Your light shines so bright, my darling Fox, I don’t ever want to see it dimmed. I always want to see you smile as brightly, laugh as loudly and be as carefree as you are right now.
I want to keep holding you in my arms as you drift off to your dreams with your breaths getting softer and deeper before their soft rhythm lulls me to rest also. And then feel you wake up again in my embrace.
Do you know how incredibly beautiful you are in these moments?
I am not a poet, nor will I ever be one, gods forbid, so I can barely do it justice. But I will try nonetheless.
You are so beautiful and delicate in my arms, completely bare before me, not an inch between us with your limbs all wrapped around me, your hair all messed up. I can feel your comforting warmth. And then this first big breath of you waking up. You always bury your face in my chest as if you’re trying to resist the world of the awake claiming you again. And your arms wrap around me a little tighter while you groan about your fate of having to be awake again. And then you lift your head and blink slowly at me with these beautiful eyes of yours, still sleepy, and red hair all over your face. And your smile grows. You tell me good morning and that you love me with your voice still raspy from sleep and kiss me with your smile growing even broader.
You are everything for me in those moments. Because it feels like every single day you choose to love me again. Aren’t I quite lucky?
 And it’s a gift, every day anew.
And I love you too, Fox, oh how I love you. In those moments and all the others.
I will do everything so I can hold onto these moments with you and create a million more.
Because even though I might have lost the sun, I gained a new source of light. Your warmth makes me want to live again. For you - and for me.”
And then the final lines of the letter were written with a bit more space - and visibly more vigour. The letters tall and proud:
“I love you, Fox, from this moment to the next and for all that are to come.
I love you and I will keep loving you for as long as I live.
I love you.
Forever yours, Astarion”
There weren’t just single tears running over your cheeks and then rolling off your face by the time you finished reading. One hand was clenching the parchment sheets while you simultaneously tried not to ruin them. Your other hand was covering your mouth as you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing.
You had sat down on the bench sometime while reading without even realising it. Now you were thankful for the support while emotions washed over and through you: overflowing love, bittersweet joy and aching yearning - among others.
Surely, when you had told Astarion that you had never received a love letter you didn’t think he would come up with something like this.
Maybe some cheesy little thing where he got to repurpose all of his favourite stupid lines, but not something like this. Not something so heartfelt and true. Not something that, despite his claims, was showing just how much he was letting you in.
You read the whole letter again.
And then a third time. And a fourth.
All the while your tears didn’t stop. They got worse even, to the point where you had to put the sheets down and cover your eyes while sobs shook your body.
Your chest felt like it was slowly coming apart as you felt it swell to the brim with love for your vampire.
That was the moment Astarion found you: still sitting at the wooden table in the kitchen, crying and sobbing and still clutching the letter in your hands, unwilling to let go. He halted a moment in the doorway.
“Was it that terrible, darling?” Astarion teased as he then entered the room. You hadn’t even noticed him before, too preoccupied with how the words of his confession swam before your eyes.
“I think I did quite a good job,” the vampire continued as he slowly sauntered over to you, hands crossed behind his back. With a huge sniffle you lifted your gaze to meet the writer’s eyes.
“I mean considering that I’ve never done this before,” Astarion finished as he took one last step up to you and immediately sank into a crouch beside you. Long, pale fingers reached out to tug one of several stray strands of hair back behind one of your pointy ears.
Your eyes were on Astarion and through your still welling tears you saw the cautious smile dance around his lips. His tone had been joking, his fingers softly brushing tears out of the corner of your eye lovingly. But his hesitation wasn’t lost on you.
So you took the only measure you deemed adequate to assure him that he had done a marvellous job. And since you could barely put into words how deeply his honest, loving words had moved you, you resorted to show rather than tell.
You threw yourself into Astarion’s arms, making him almost topple over in his crouched position. But the vampire kept his balance as you wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you ever had.
Neither of you cared when more tears spilled onto him and you while more sobs shook through you. “I love you,” you pressed out in between sobs and sniffles. “I love you, Astarion,” you repeated.
And again and again until the words made no sense anymore.
Astarion just held you, burying his face in your hair. And you could have sworn you must’ve felt a tear or two wet your already messed up hair that hadn’t been yours.
The two of you stayed in this tangled and messy embrace, both on your knees, for a long while. Your vampire softly swayed you while your sobs slowly subsided and the tears only remained as softly prickling traces on your face.
That kind of blissful exhaustion that only overcomes you after a long and hearty cry threatened to take you over when you had lost all sense of time in your lover’s arms. So you ripped your face from where it had been buried at Astarion’s neck before you became too tired.
With one hand you rubbed sloppily over your eyes and then your nose. And even without looking you knew Astarion’s nose would scrunch up in disgust. The thought almost immediately made you laugh. But when you looked at him again, finally free of blurring tears, you were merely met with a smirk and a soft mocking glint in his eyes, sparking at you from beneath Astarion’s brows.
“I can’t believe out of all moments you could have picked, you chose to call me beautiful with bedhair, you idiot” you blurted out and swatted the vampire’s arms before you immediately broke out with hysterical laughter.
The vampire immediately hissed at you in response. Then he cleared his throat and put on an air of seriousness when you looked up at him again: “But you are, my love. Even with your face covered in tears and snot you are still quite, eh…” He gesticulated dramatically towards you and his nose scrunched up again as he teased you. It only earned him another hit from you. He hissed at you again, letting go of you to rub the spot you had just hit.
“You punch quite hard, you know that?” he barked at you, his tone slightly offended. And you only laughed more.
“Maybe you should have added that to the letter,” you teased back and stuck out your tongue at him.
“You insolent, ungrateful wretch,” Astarion hurled at you while his smirk returned.
“You pretentious, stupid prick,” you gave back.
Then you leaned in, cupped Astarion’s face and kissed him. He met you with a content hum.
“I love you, Astarion,” you whispered as you broke away and pressed your forehead to his.
His eyes glittered and his smile was so broad it made the vampire’s face ache: “Love you too, my sweet little Fox.”
~~~
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back2bluesidex · 9 months
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Rainy Days - KTH
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Pairing: Ex-Taehyung X Fem!reader
Summary: All Taehyung could remember is you, on a rainy day like this.
Wordcount: 872
Theme: Exes au, Angst, a follow-up drabble for Baggage.
Warnings: mentions of infidelity, Tae suffers from guilt, he writes a reply to reader's letter. SFW.
Minors and Karens are not allowed in this blog.
A/N: This idea has been sitting on my head ever since I heard the song. So, it's here as a follow-up drabble for Baggage. and I am really sorry for this poor quality banner.
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Taehyung’s phone goes off with a few rapid notifications again. 
He pauses his task of shoving a spoonful of that honey flavored cereal that you love so much and hurriedly clutches his phone. 
Again, it’s not what he expected. Again, it’s not you. 
Placing his phone upside down, he goes back to what he is doing. 
As he munches on the cereal, which he finds delicious now, he recalls how he lashed out on you once for buying this same thing over and over again. 
“Why do I have to eat what you prefer? Can’t you buy something else for me? Don’t you know I can’t bear the same shit for a long time.” Taehyung semi-screams. 
“I called you for like four times in a row while I was grocery shopping. But you, being you, never answered once. So I chose this, since you initially liked this cereal.” You reply calmly, “and I know you can’t bear the same shit for a long time, like me.”  You whispered, but he heard it loud and clear.
Taehyung doesn’t reply anything. He obviously ignored your calls intentionally and you seem to know it. 
He sighs at the memory. 
How stupid he had been back then. How cruel he must have been to let you down so easily, to let you go as if that’s no big deal. How delusional he must have been to seek warmth in unfamiliar embraces when you were there to give your everything to him. 
Now that he reflects on his wrong doings, he realizes what he has lost. He lost a part of himself, the part that was genuinely happy. 
A lone tear escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek, he sniffles. Looking up at the glass window he finds the sky crying along with him. 
Whenever it rains, he only thinks of you. He thinks of that rainy day and your first date. You two shared an umbrella since two broke college students couldn’t afford more than one 7/11 umbrella. Both of you got soaked and your pretty white trench coat got a big ugly yellow patch. You mentioned it in your letter. That letter, damn. 
Taehyung clutches his phone again, he dials your number and watches as it goes into voicemail. Nothing new. The same thing has been happening ever since he started calling you, ever since your letter arrived. 
He opens the messaging app and types and deletes, types and deletes. He thinks about what to say, how to explain he has been so lost without you, how to apologize for being so cruel. He finds no words, no justification, no expression. Nothing. 
Then finally he decides upon something… 
Running back to his office, he grabs his notepad and a pen. He sits down by the window, in his notoriously butt-shaped chair and starts writing. 
Dear Y/N, Lately I have been thinking about you. Well, to be honest, I have been thinking about you ever since your letter arrived. I won’t say your letter woke me up and made me realize how wrong I was. Because deep down I always knew I was wrong, I was cruel but was too adamant and egoistic to come clean.  But, your letter, your words have definitely punched me hard on my gut, knocked every little bit of air I have been breathing. And I have been breathless ever since. I will not apologize over this letter. If I ever see you again, I will make sure to let you know the amount of guilt and regret that has been burdening me, through my actions. I will. I promise.  I have been calling you a lot lately, even when I don’t know what I should say. It’s good that you don't pick it up. I don’t know if you will be reading my texts or not, so I decided against it too.  Rather I decided to write this letter, so that I can at least be sure about this piece of paper reaching your address. If you still live there you will get it right away and if you don’t, you will be coming to pick up your mail and find it. You will at least see me replying to you even if you choose not to read it. I will be satisfied with that much.  Or will I?  I don’t know, really.  Because what I really want is to go back to the time I shared with you. Time with you was so amazing and I was genuinely at my happiest. That part of me hasn't changed, it’s still the same. I know it’s too late but somehow.. Can we go back to that moment again? I know, I have no right to say this, but let me make up for all the time we lost. We can start again, I will open all the doors I had closed. I promise I will treat you right this time.  I am a mess here. I can feel your touch. I remember your kiss and those hurtful words. And I miss you. I miss you like crazy, Y/N.  I want to go back to you, right into your arms, on rainy days like this.  Always yours, Taehyung.
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel
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mcntsee · 5 months
Text
deer y/n,
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Summary: First part of letters to her. I recommend reading the prologue first.
Warnings: Ooc Kaz Brekker, I think one cuss word, terrible writing.
Note: Here it is! First part of the letters to her series. This is super short, I was struggling to figure out what to write for this letter, but I promise the rest are better. I am also trying a new writing style. Enjoy!
* ੈ✩‧₊˚
“Oh my.”
“What is it?”
Y/n managed to misplace her necklace—yet again—turning what was supposed to be a delightful date into a search mission for the elusive piece of jewelry.
Kaz was grateful she had agreed to getting some food and dining in. The past week had been a whirlwind of meetings with everyone in the forsaken city, leaving him overwhelmed. He'd endured an excessive amount of handshakes, enough to last a year, maybe three.
But Y/n understood. After all, she had been by his side since he could remember, never passing judgment on him for anything.
"Love?" He called out again. Kaz despised the silence. It could only mean two things: something good or something really bad.
“Y/n?” Usually, he was the type to lean towards options that gave him more than a fifty-fifty chance.
“Y/n!”
“Yes! Sorry I just-“
He found her in the dining room. “What is it?” As he approached, he noticed she was holding something in her hand. However, before he even had the chance to ask about it, she turned, fully facing him with her hand extended out.
"This," she said, glancing at what Kaz now recognized as an aged letter, "happens to be the first letter you ever wrote me."
She cleared her throat, preparing to read the letter to him.
“Deer Y/n,”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Kaz remembered that day with as much clarity as he remembered his lunch from a couple of hours ago.
It hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, no. Yet, he remembered it nonetheless.
“What is the matter with you?”
"Deer." He pointed at the word that was meant to be 'dear'. "Are you not reading?"
“I am and I’m well aware of the fact that is says deer. Once again, what’s the matter with you?”
“Can you put it away, it’s embarrassing.”
“Kaz, you were five.”
He had indeed been five, and apparently, not the brightest when it came to spelling. However, he laid the blame on his dad, who assured him it had looked good enough to send.
“How do you even have that still?”
“I could never lose it.”
“It’s just a letter, Y/n.”
“The first letter I ever got from you.” She corrected.
“It’s still just a letter, Y/n.”
“Whatever Kaz. It’s my most priced possession.”
He could tell she intended to keep reading the letter, but as her mouth open to let out the words, he noticed a mischievous glint in her eye.
“That and the drawing, of course.”
“The drawing?”
“The drawing.”
Kaz really had thought that it couldn’t get worse. Of course he hadn’t needed her to read the letter for him, so he had more than enough time to realize just how bad his grammar had once been.
But then, she decided to turn back around to grab the drawning and show him.
“I miss spots.” she said. In truth, he shared that sentiment. Spots had been his first and only pet.
He had entertained the idea of getting another pet with her. Perhaps another feline, or a loyal canine. Maybe even a crow. A replacement for the family he knew he couldn’t provide to her. “He was a great cat.”
“Indeed. He had to put up with you everyday.”
“I-, You know what? Same goes for you.”
That laugh. He was convinced that her laughter was the only force capable of resurrecting him from death. That and her eyes, of course, especially when they sparkled with mischievousness.
“Wait! Look,” Before he had a chance to see what she was pointing at, she covered the letter with her hand, completely defeating the purpose of asking someone to look.
“I am trying.”
"No, wait. Before I show you, you know how you always ask why I always sign: Love, my name, and then an exclamation mark with a heart instead of a dot?"
If he was honest, the question about her peculiar signature had crossed his mind only a couple of times. However, with the letter concealed and her mischievous grin, he wondered if uncovering the reason was a journey worth embarking on. “Mhmm...”
“Look!” She said while pointing at Kaz’s - or, well, five year old kaz’s signature. “Look, look, look, look, look.” Kaz couldn’t help but smile at her excitement, but he still couldn’t fathom why she was making such a fuss over his childhood attempt at penmanship. “Sweetheart, I am looking.”
There it was, his old signature in all its glory, proudly proclaiming, "Love, Kaz!"
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harrywavycurly · 27 days
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Hey Sarah I’m in a mood and I was wondering if you could break my heart (pls put it back together tho) with any of the Eddies or Joes
Hiii lovey!! I will gladly break your heart and I’m gonna be totally honest I had a whole moment where I went “what if…I don’t put it back together?” but don’t worry I will…eventually(I really will fix it I promise) 🙈 but I did this in a conversation formate because that’s how it flowed the best in my mind so I hope you enjoy💖
-I had to create a whole new Eddie for this because I simply couldn’t bring myself to break any of my precious babies hearts😂
A/N: This has a cliff hanger and I’m sorry I feel like it’s necessary and you’ll see why, don’t hate me✨
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“You know staring at it won’t make it magically disappear right?…you’re gonna have to open it eventually.” “Gee thanks Steve…what would I do without your words of wisdom?” “Listen jackass sitting here on your front porch staring at a cardboard box isn’t exactly how I planned on spending my Friday night okay?” “Then why’d you come over?” “Because…you called and sounded all…upset…and you’re like one of my bestfriends so…here I am.” “Thanks…” “So…what’d you do?” “I fucked up.” “I mean yeah…that’s a little obvious…I mean what did you actually do to make her send all your stuff back in a box marked…the asshole’s stuff?” “We got into an argument and she walked out and I didn’t go after her.” “Wait..what?..what do you mean you didn’t go after her?” “I mean exactly what I said Steve…I said some shit…she said some shit and then she left and I just…let her….” “What was this argument about?” “She got a wedding invitation from some girl we went to high school with and it made her all…happy and hopeful for our future and..she started talking about us getting married and I just…I’m not ready for all that shit man I’m only twenty three I can’t be someone’s husband.” “Okay so you just tell her you’re not ready yet…you don’t just throw in the fucking towel Eddie.” “You didn’t see her face when she was talking about our lives together Steve…she’s ready for that like right now and I don’t…I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” “What exactly did you say to her?” “I just told her…if she’s looking for someone to marry she’s looking in the wrong place…and…and she just..called me a selfish asshole and left.” “Well she wasn’t wrong…and that’s when you just let her drive away?” “I didn’t even move from the couch…I sat there the rest of the night because I just assumed she’d come back after she calmed down a bit.” “You’re such an idiot man…but just tell me…is it the idea of being with her forever that you don’t think you’re ready for? Or is just being her husband you can’t wrap your head around?” “I love her…more than anyone and I know she’s it for me but I’m not husband material Steve and that’s not…fare to her.” “Oh fuck off with that…she clearly thinks your husband material or she wouldn’t bring it up so don’t go trying to say you did this as a favor to her okay? You did this because you’re scared.” “I’m not scared.” “Yes you fucking are Eddie…you’re terrified that someone else loves you so much that they literally want to be legally bound to you…that’s some heavy shit man so I get it but that’s why you made her run away…it has nothing to do with this lame ass excuse of you not being husband material.” “I just..I don’t want to fuck it up..I’ve seen enough horrible marriages I don’t need to be apart of one too.” “Sorry to break it to you man but…you kinda already did.” “Yeah…I did didn’t I? She couldn’t even write my name on the box…” “Oh asshole isn’t your first name? I’m shocked.” “Fuck off…” “Sorry…but you wanna go through it now or…wait?” “I don’t need to go through it…I know what’s in it.” “Oh really? What?” “A few mix cds I made her… a teddy bear from a claw machine at the arcade…some letters…a photo of us at the lake one summer and hopefully a few Metallica shirts.” “Letters?” “Yeah? We used to write each other all the time…it was like our way of expressing how we felt sometimes when we couldn’t really…get the words out…why are you looking at me like that?” “Do you want her back?” “What?” “Answer the question man.” “Yes…yes I want her back…” “Just checking…because…I may have an idea…” “Okay…I’m listening…”
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