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danpuff-ao3 · 1 year

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💥✨

Hello hello! Thanks for the asks! 😄

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

SEVERUS SNAPE DID NOT DIE, HE DIDN'T, IT'S NOT ALLOWED.

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

Omg how am I meant to choose????? 🥺 I am so blessed to have such kindness directed my way and it all means so much to me! But let's see if I can pick out a few....

For Sunkissed:

Actually your comment on this one got me! 😂 As proof that my Snarry agenda is working!

OMG ARE YOU CONVERTING ME TO SNARRY??? Oh. Shit. Plums and Cocks, serious CMBYN vibes. Melting puddle over here. This was seriously one of the most delicious things I’ve ever read, I loved the melancholy, forbidden indulgence of it. You captured Severus in all his spiteful longing perfectly. Amazing writing, too. Thanks so much for sharing! <3

Truly, I am overjoyed 🤩

And some gems from triplevexed's comments:

this is BEAUTIFUL! your writing is so buttery (flows so so well) and gorgeously prosed. your severus in every iteration lives in my head rent free (the yellow door??? legendary.)

and

BUTTERYYYYYY. and like. luxurious like les pres sales. you have one of the most captivating proses i’ve ever encountered. it’s genuinely hypnotizing. you’ve made me have an even greater affinity for severus 🥺 and the way you handle complex matters with such nuance and beauty in works—-gahhhhh i could go on and on

Beyond flattered. I'm blushing just to copy/paste it here! 🤭

For A Matter of Time, from eldritcher (which....what do you do when one of your writing crushes loves on your work??)

The kaleidoscopic colours as Harry's nearest and dearest worry, and the sharp black-grey of his turmoil, and the crimson of how he was held in love and passion by a man who thought he'd all the time in the world: you've assembled your collage magnificently.

For Teardrop In Your Palm, also from eldritcher!

Oh, how utterly bewitching and unconscionable! You haven't spared a jot of wrongness in crafting this sublime confection of guilt and desire and folly. Your Scorpius is a revelation, what with his chaotic heart and mild pinpricks of morality.

For Contempt:

From BlueSundayCake:

this fic broke my heart in the best kind of way. It is absolutely devastating. I absolutely love your writing style, and I don't know that this story could have been told any other way. I'm still reeling from it and I want to sob and scream and scream again.

From Necromanticnoir:

Gaaaaaaaaaahhhh this is just the absolute essence of SNARRY *perfection* to me!!!

That one goes in with it's loveliness, but the start sums it up nicely and had me a puddle of blushing happy Danni.

From janezy:

This is haunting and devastating and terrible and fantastic all at once.

EXACTLY WHAT I WAS GOING FOR!!

From Ms_SackvilleWest

This was one of the best stories I've read in years. Sometimes when I leave a comment on a work, I find myself littering it with adjectives and praise, but really, there are no words here. Still: your writing is so precise, so clear, so rich with meaning, so much like a dagger straight to the heart. I read this in one go, slowly savouring it, and I am left with a hole in my chest and a heart that clenches painfully. Thank you for a fantastic experience.

From inarticulateimbecile:

God, this is just peak Snarry. I love the turmoil, the uncertainty, the futile smothering of Harry's yearning as he tries to cram himself into that perfect mold of what his future "should" be. The way you wrote those unwanted desires just slipping through the cracks in an almost stream-of-consciousness way is just... so on the nail. It really hits.

From Isabella_Diaz:

This is perfect, genuinely perfect, I can't even comprehend how something so beautiful, something so intense, something so painful that eats me inside could be so perfect. I have read many of your works, but I am not used to commenting in general, but I could not pass this work without writing anything, without explaining to you how you made me feel. I don't know how you manage so that in only 20k words you could represent so faithfully and with such precision how I see the snarry.

Another that goes on in its loveliness and truly makes me cry every time. So so touching for me, regarding the story so dear to my heart.

And sweet Cindle's comment!!!!

My GODDDDDDD!!!! Danni!!!!!!! This was SOOOOOO GOOD!!! It was breathtaking! And stunning! And i audibly gasped at the end, it ended in such a beautiful place! This is everything I’ve ever wanted from an infidelity fic. Your use of language- all the repeated phrases and the recurring imagery and motifs - were so poetically done, and I’ll be definitely rereading this- there were so many layers to your word choice and how you structured sentences, that I’ll definitely want to examine all these stylistic choices and see what i can learn from it to improve my own writing. It’s probably been like 15 or so years since i last read snarry, and I’m so so glad i picked up yours to read to break the spell. I kept seeing your meta about this fic on your tumblr, and of course Viran’s podfic, so i had to give this a try, and it! DID! NOT! DISAPPOINT!! This was so gorgeous, and i loved the Harry POV here with his big Harry heart even as he’s saying ‘i hate you’ to snape, this was such a rich and deep emotional journey, thank you for sharing this lovely work of art!! 💖

Again....I cry 🥺

And the ever lovely Krissy/sugareey:

I'm always so impressed with how smooth and flowy your stories are, Danni! The way Harry and Severus are...actions speak louder than words, and the amount of emotions that are churning in each of them is so apparent and yasssss. This is the dynamic I love about Snarry, because it's raw, complicated, and full of grey. What they have is ambiguous and it just works. That's the besst way I can say it.

Aaaand I cry again 😭

This is already too long but oh well I can't do Contempt and not Devotion.

So...for Devotion:

From lone_amaryllis:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH *be normal about this, be normal* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH (Sorry, I can't be normal, I tried)

Gave me a giggle and so much delight!

Also r0segard3n (who also gave such sweet love to Contempt!):

I knew you were writing severus' pov but i didnt expect it so soon I reread 'the fic' so so frequently that i know some lines by heart and im pretty sure i could recognize your writing anywhere

and

Im so hyperfixated on the original part of this fic and i know its weird but i can for sure say its my favourite piece of literature ever idk

Um, excuse me while I IMPLODE FROM SHEER JOY.

Also some truly touching words from more writer crushes and dear friends 😭

From perverse_idyll:

Okay, this will be short. It's three o'clock in the morning, I have to get up in four and a half hours for work, and I just finished reading Devotion. *deep breath* Jesus Christ. Just - words fail me. This is so brilliant. This is searing, and gorgeous, and addictive, and beautifully, intimately crafted. Not just surfaces, but crevices and hollows and heart's blood. Shame and filth and adoration and beauty. There is no stone of Severus left unturned. This story is an absolute stunner, and please forgive me, but I think I love it even more than its predecessor. Somehow the stakes feel higher, the cuts deeper, the emotions so complex and disturbing, so scorching and close to the edge of madness and self-destruction. And the language just pulls it out of me, the reader, and Severus, the character; language that's shimmering and vivid and intensely, perfectly vulgar. You have outdone yourself. This has just become one of my favorite Snarry fics of all time. It has breathed life back into the pairing and salvaged that terrible, damaged, fucked-up, irresistible spark of utter longing and sacrifice and mutual obsession that I crave more than anything from this ship. It's like a fever dream, and by the end there's no magical resolution and no one is absolved, but the emotional truth is out in the open now, and for a moment it feels less brutal and somehow more promising. They're surrounded on all sides by pain - pain inflicted, courted, invited, pain pending and hanging over them - but what's between them blazes with a private, sustaining knowledge. In each other's arms, they've finally learned to belong. The story earns and incarnates its title. It's the right place to end, with Harry and Severus embracing each other on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if they'll fall, not knowing what will happen to them, and still holding tighter. I hope to come back sometime in the next couple of days to be more coherent in my comments, but after being utterly submerged in this fic, I had to burst out with the first shock of excitement. Bravo. BRAVO. This is an absolutely riveting and heart-wringing piece of characterization, of visceral sexual connection, of love fighting for its life in the face of self-hatred. I really, really have to go to sleep now, but I can't wait until I have the chance to read this again. ❤️❤️❤️

Had to copy/paste that one in full cuz I'm still dying over it a bit.

And from the wonderful Writcraft:

Wow. This is an absolute triumph. I absolutely loved this raw insight into Severus, what he feels and experiences through the complexities of his interactions with Harry. The slow, steady burn and build of this story feels so authentic and in keeping with Severus as a character and you have captured his inner thoughts so precisely, with such care and attention to every detail. You can tell how much time has been spent on this universe and how you have such a clear understanding of where your characters are with their emotional turmoil, missteps and tentative moves forward and you accomplish the not easy feat of making this story read brilliantly as a standalone for those unfamiliar with Contempt and also give readers of Contempt something very different, whilst still keeping the threads of the universe clear and intact. Your writing is lush and poetic and I absolutely sank into this story and didn't want to come up for air. Wonderfully done. Bravo! <3

Okay so that was more than 2 or 3 🙈 Oops. What was I supposed to do???? I was too happy and excited and rereading all these comments filled me with such tremendous joy. Those from friends, from those I admire, and from lovely strangers. All of these stories are so special to me, especially Contempt and Devotion, so...it's just incredibly meaningful and truly, I cannot express enough how amazed I am and appreciative I am of people's generosity and kindness in taking the time to leave such sweet love. 🥰

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

(You know...if you dare give me an opportunity to blather at you 🤣)

#asked & answered

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livelova · 17 days

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Romantic Birthday Wishes for Your Wife

A birthday is a perfect occasion to express your love and appreciation for your wife. It’s a day dedicated to celebrating her, cherishing the moments you’ve shared, and making her feel truly special. Crafting the perfect birthday wish can make all the difference, transforming a simple greeting into a heartfelt gesture that she’ll treasure.

Here are some romantic birthday wishes to help you convey your deepest feelings and celebrate your wife’s special day in the most loving way:

1. The Love of My Life

“Happy Birthday to the love of my life. Each day with you is a blessing, and I am so grateful for the joy and happiness you bring into my world. May your birthday be filled with as much love and laughter as you’ve given me.”

2. Forever and Always

“To my beautiful wife, on your special day: I want you to know that my love for you grows stronger with each passing year. Here’s to many more birthdays together, filled with joy, laughter, and endless love.”

3. My Heartbeat

“Happy Birthday, my dearest wife. You are the heartbeat of my life and the light that guides me through each day. I am eternally grateful for your love and the incredible life we’ve built together. Have a day as wonderful as you are!”

4. Endless Love

“To the woman who stole my heart and continues to make it flutter every day: Happy Birthday! My love for you is endless, and I am so blessed to share my life with you. May your birthday be filled with all the happiness you deserve.”

5. My Everything

“Happy Birthday to my everything. You are not just my wife but my best friend, my confidant, and my greatest joy. I promise to love you more with each passing day and to make this birthday as special as you are to me.”

#love quotes #wishes #birthday #cats of tumblr

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wittybirthday · 2 months

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Heartfelt Birthday Wishes for Your Daughter

Your daughter’s birthday is a perfect moment to show just how much she means to you. It’s a time to celebrate her, reflect on her growth, and share your deepest feelings. No matter her age, your heartfelt wishes can make her day unforgettable. Here are some touching birthday wishes to help you express your love and pride.

1. For the Little Princess

“Happy Birthday to my little princess! Watching you grow up has been the greatest joy of my life. May your day be filled with laughter, fun, and all your favorite things. Always remember how much you are loved and cherished.”

2. For the Growing Teenager

“Happy Birthday to my amazing daughter! As you grow into a wonderful young woman, remember that you have the power to achieve anything you set your mind to. I’m so proud of the person you are becoming and excited to see all the incredible things you will accomplish.”

3. For the Young Adult

“Happy Birthday to my beautiful daughter! Seeing you become the strong, compassionate, and talented woman you are today has been a true blessing. May your birthday be filled with all the love and joy you bring into the world. Here’s to celebrating you and all that you are.”

4. For the Daughter Who’s Always There

“Happy Birthday to my dearest daughter! Your kindness and generosity have touched so many lives, especially mine. Thank you for always being there with a listening ear and a warm heart. May your special day be as wonderful as you are.”

5. For the Daughter Who’s Far Away

“Happy Birthday, my darling daughter! Though we may be miles apart, my love for you knows no distance. I hope your day is filled with joy, laughter, and all the things that make you happiest. I can’t wait to celebrate with you soon. Have a fantastic birthday!”

6. For the Daughter Who’s a Best Friend

“Happy Birthday to my best friend and daughter! You’ve been my confidante, my cheerleader, and my greatest source of joy. On your special day, I want you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life. May your year ahead be filled with everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

7. For the Daughter Who Inspires

“Happy Birthday to my inspirational daughter! Your strength, courage, and creativity continually amaze me. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished and the person you’ve become. May your birthday be as extraordinary as you are.”

8. For the Daughter Who Lights Up Your Life

“Happy Birthday to the light of my life! Your smile brightens up even the darkest days, and your presence brings so much joy to everyone around you. May your birthday be filled with all the happiness you deserve and more. I love you endlessly.”

Conclusion

Regardless of the message you choose, what truly matters is the love and sincerity behind it. Your daughter will treasure these heartfelt birthday wishes, making her special day even more memorable. These Birthday Wishes For Daughter are sure to make her feel cherished and loved on her special day. Celebrate her, remind her of your love, and enjoy this wonderful occasion together.

#happy birthday captions #happy birthday quotes #happy birthday message #heartfelt birthday messages #happy birthday wishes #sweetbirthdaymessages #Birthday Wishes for Daughter #love quotes

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ardensregias · 6 months

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blessed

spoilers for aventurine's past & 2.1. nightmare. insecurity. gender neutral reader. angst/hurt with comfort. :3 super duper extra soft aventurine please handle with care. i hope i wrote this well (*´꒳`*) also i hope that the metaphors made sense..... i actually wrote a fic this time gasp

written as a part of personal memoires event by @thexianzhoujade. prompt used is viii. “it’s okay if you can’t catch your breath, you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest.” | atlas: two.

"...welcome to this sad world, kakavasha..."

that same dream, playing on his head over and over again as if to remind him of something he won't ever forget—the day he was born, followed by the day he lost his mother, his sister, and ultimately himself.

his situation forced him to adapt and grow up earlier than the other kids his age. when he was supposed to be in the safety of his mother's loving embrace and snuggled up beneath a warm blanket, little aventurine had to escape from the katicans hot on his heels, carrying the last wishes of his mama and big sis—which was for him to stay alive, for he is the child blessed by gaiathra herself. but is he really blessed, if he's stripped away from all that is dear to him?

the screams and cries of his people still haunt him in this dream, before they're slowly drowned out by the sound of raindrops hitting the dry and barren ground of his home planet as he ran, ran, and kept running—obeying his sister's wishes before she sacrificed herself, all to protect the her dearest brother, a selfless act even he doesn't understand why she would ever do that. guilt eats away at his heart whenever he recalls her last words, reminding him of his failure to protect the most important people in his life.

aventurine the stratagem, one of the ten stonehearts, the senior manager of IPC's strategic investment department—all these titles meant nothing to him, seeing as they serve to remind him of the shackles they placed around his wrists, how he can still feel the weight of the harsh and thick metal tightly wrapped around his neck as he works his little body to the bone. to him, the only title that truly shows his true self is the one on his neck—something to be owned, who's only worth so much as sixty tanbas, something his current self would have no problem with spending. heck, he can spend millions of credits at once and still have billions left in his account, but to his poor, teen self? it was his market value, showing just how worthless he is, and he still is—to himself, at least.

"...ugh..." forcing himself awake, he finds himself laying on the hotel's million-credits bed, his pajamas halfway unbuttoned, and the blanket forming a mound beside him—ah, it's you, curled up beneath the blanket you hogged from him.

for a moment, the sight soothed aventurine's heart and silenced the voices in his head. it truly astonished him that you had such an impact on his entire being, but it's not entirely mind-boggling either, for you were the one who picks up pieces of his shattered heart, put them back together with so much love and care, and place it back into his chest where it belongs—but not before worming yourself into it, settling down in the cold and empty space to paint it with your color. you brought the rotten heart back to life with the gentleness of your touch, slowly but surely convincing him that he deserves to be happy, to be loved.

he stares at you, smiling solemnly before he gets lost in his thoughts again—wondering if you were in your right mind when you confessed your love to him that day with a gaze that looks oh-so-dreamy, when your eyes seem to shine brighter than the stars in the sky everytime your gaze locks with his lightless one—that look you reserved for him and him alone—does he, someone so weak and imperfect, deserves it? don't you see how pathetic he actually is?

for so long, aventurine always thought that if he just keeps spoiling and showering you with money, you'll surely stick around, that maybe just like everyone else, you desire something for him too—that was what his anxiety and fear said to him in his head, ruining his confidence yet again, or perhaps he's never truly confident after all, always clutching his chips for dear life beneath the table while having the most cocky grin on his pretty face, fooling not only everyone, but also himself.

if only he knew that you would rip your heart clean apart to help his beats, that you would let him take the oxygen straight out of your own lungs if it helps him to breathe a little bit easier—giving it your everything to try and bring him back to life.

just like right now, gliding your fingertips across his cheek to wipe away the crystalline tears that escaped his eyes without his consent. when did you wake up? was he too deep into his head to notice that concerned look on your face? was he too busy loathing himself to realize that you have been trying to make him see just how wonderful he actually is?

"tell me, is something wrong?" your voice, as smooth as silk and as gentle as a mother's embrace, broke the silence of the room, snapping him back to reality—something he dreaded before. now? not so much, because it has you in it.

aventurine shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly to stop the tears from rolling down his face before his lips are pulled up to form a tight smile, "it's nothing serious, but why are you awake—"

"no, i don't want to talk about myself," you cut him off, sensing the emotions that are about to bursts out of him after being bottled up for so long, "it doesn't look like 'nothing serious', would you... like to talk about it? it's fine if you don't, too,"

please stop, if you keep being so sweet to him, he might just breaks down into thousands of pieces. but at the same time, he really wants to stay like this forever—no, he needs this, your pampering, your love, and you. he might sound greedy, but if you yourself are willing, then who is he to decline an angel's favor?

he doesn't reply, but you already know everything and there's no need for words—you simply pulled him close and rest his head on your shoulder, and that's it. that's the only thing you need to do for him to break the protective wall guarding all the emotions inside, which comes down in the form of salty tears that flows down his eyes, dampening your pajamas—not like you mind though.

"it's okay, you're a strong child, kakavasha—i'm so proud of you, you know?"

proud... something he's never thought of feeling before, nor does he expect someone to be proud of him. his grip on your back tightens, shifting his body closer to yours like a baby that seeks his mother's warmth. the facade of the arrogant and haughty gambler breaking down completely, revealing the little boy who only desires affection and love within.

to him, your touch feels like the warm light of the stars, doing your best to lit up the dark sky to accompany the lone moon and envelop him in your warm light, letting him know that he's not alone.

"you... you meant that?" aventurine lifts his head up, eyes glistening with the remnant of tears and pain, his voice was brittle, as if he was on the verge of breaking down. (again)

the sight causes your eyes to softens and a mirthful chuckle escapes your chest, "what kind of question is that?"

you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, thumbs grazing his skin to remove the traces of misery from his face. beautiful, absolutely and utterly mesmerizing—those were the words that formed themselves inside your brain as your eyes ran down his features. how does one have the ability to hurt this sweet boy? if only you knew him back then, you would've iced the bruises on his back and tucked him away somewhere safe—you would've protected the light in his eyes, made sure that it won't fade away.

"i love you,"

his frown falters, his lips curling up in genuine joy, "do you?"

"have i ever lied to you?" you raised an eyebrow, now petulantly pouting at his constant doubting—a playful act to lighten the mood.

aventurine chuckles at your adorable expression as he loosen his hold on you, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, "no, no, it just... amazes me how easy it is for you to give your heart away to me," yet another subtle hint of insecurity from him—the feeling of undeserving of your affection.

"you're easy to love," you reply rather quickly, with a small shrug as if this was no big deal for you—and it wasn't, and will never be one.

his smile widen as he tilts his head, not saying another word and instead, opting to express his gratitude with a slow and tender kiss, his hands resting on your cheeks, holding you as if you're a fragile porcelain that might break if he were to tighten his grip—and he's not taking any risk. he can't lose you too—not after you poured love into every cracks you found in his soul, marking him as yours—every bone in his body, every drop of blood, every nerve and sinew in his mind, are yours, and only yours.

the kiss lasted for more than a few seconds until you ran out of breath and pulled away from him, a single thread of saliva connecting your bottom lips together. aventurine wishes he could kiss you forever though, for your lips taste as sweet as the honeyed dews that drip from the budding lotus-flower—the taste his lips are not forgetting anytime soon (or ever, for that matter).

the room is quiet for a long moment, the only audible sound being his and your labored breaths mixed together. he flashes a gleeful smile at you, "thank you. for everything,"

you nod, once again closing the distance between you two in order to peppers his pretty face with kisses as a reply, and oh how heavenly it feels—reminding him of the taste of rain in his homeland, reminding him just how blessed he truly is.

#⊹ ࣪ ˖ personal memoires ⟢#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #hsr angst #honkai star rail x reader

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yuukimiyas · 10 months

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hiiu my dearest sugarplum chloe ! ! ◟꒰ྀི◍ ´꒳` ◍꒱◞ i deeply apologize for it having been an eternity since i hab last paid u a visit , but i come w cookies n milk 2 share while we cozy up by da fireplace :3 🍪🥛 ! i j wntd to remind u how much u mean to miiii ! ! n how happie i am to hv someone as tender-hearted as u in m sweet litl circle ♡! it has been less than a yr since we've become frens but ur presence in my life has brought mi a great deal of joy n love . . i find myself wanting 2 be kind , 2 share da love i hv for da ppl in my life as much as i cn — even if i struggle to show them how i feel , & i find myself being happier , more at peace w my feelings , to take my struggles in stride n not let them get me down . . . i am sure all of this is bcos of u ! ! ! u r such an angel , truly truly truly . i hope u r blessed w many good days and v littl bad ones , and even on da bad days , i hope u can feel da love frm evione in ur life — me included :3c i hope u stay pure hearted like dis , n u encounter nothing in ur life that will take dat away frm u . u r so precious n i wubwubwubwub u sooooo ! !

oh...oh my sweetest coco angel baby ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა tears are in my eyes this was such a beautiful msg to receive!! i can't believe that lil ole me has influenced you this much!! ໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა like!!! eeep!!! i've spent many of my teenage yrs being jaded & bitter bc of the hand i was dealt in life until one day i realized -- what the hell am i doing? ppl go through so much everyday, most of it unspoken to us all, & nothing conducive happens if i just go through life being upset at things i can't change & projecting that onto others; instead i focus on the things i can!! i can change how i approach ppl, how i regulate & process my emotions, how i react to the world etc. <33 & the fact that i've helped you in any way, shape or form is making my heart melt into an absolute puddle ૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა♡ words can't describe how much you mean to me sweet coco!! my soul is so warm & fuzzy rn!! i hope you know just how special you are, not just to me but to everyone in your life!! i'm always just a quick bunny hop away if you ever need ANYTH!! even if its at 3am & you need a cup of sugar!! i will zoom to you w sugar aplenty!! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ♡‧₊˚ & that's a chloebun promise!! i am forever holding you so so closely my love, & every lil twinkle from the stars in the vast night sky is me sayin hello & smoochin your cheeks ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა MWAH!!!

#⋆°˖➴ p.o. box!#( ˘ ³˘)♡moots!#pls bby don't apologize!! i'm the one who should say sorry for not stoppin by your mailbox in ages (｡>﹏<) i promise i will so so soon!!#coco when i tell you i am dabbing my eyes w a tissue bc of your kind words♡꒰>﹏< ꒱ pls believe me!!!! i love love love love you sm bby!!#all i've ever wanted to do ever is show love & kindness & the fact that you feel it from me is more than enough!! <333 #i swear i'll make sure to always be there for you!! in this life & every single one after!! ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭♡ I ADORE YOU ENDLESSLY!!!#⸜❤︎⸝ coco!

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shooting-love-arrows · 10 months

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Hi pookieee 😘

Take your time with the questions I made! Good things take time ♡

As for my own special interest;I would say I also really enjoy learning about history of 3rd world countries before and after colonization. From social to geographic changes,i just overall love to learn the 'how' and 'why' of things! Also LOVE DILFS (easy to see why househubby is probs my soulmate <3333),and nerdy smart-looking men like Sid from Skins and Edward Nashton from The Batman,they make my heart do a whole gymnastics routine 😍😍😍

And i totally get u on that Twisted Wonderland interest,Idia has my heart on a chokehold,i just love men who are (cute) losers in a non-incel way 🤭

As for Fandoms,there is just way too many for me to be able to go over them in every type of category from music artist to actors to games and shows,but my top 3 would be Ghost (the band), Blue Lock (anime) and Gotham (tv series) !

Hope u are having a nice day/night! Remember to get rest,I live laugh love u so sososososos much 💗💗💗

- 🌟 anon

Dear 🌟 Anon,

Hello dearest! 💖😘 You are a very interesting person indeed! It's good to be curious about things. We should cultivate our curiosity and never let it wilt, that's for sure. Now...dilfs you say? My dear, those types of men are something I do like to feast on too. Especially those on Tumblr. They are delicious~😏 The adorable Idia is truly a blessing. It doesn't help that I am in love with the myth of Persephone and Hades. My heart just speeds up when I imagine the reader taking the place of Persephone (gender doesn't matter since Greek gods don't really care either) and Idia of Hades. On top of that if he was in his over bloated form...🤭💘 I was interested in Ghosts for some time. I was especially interested in the lore they came up with. And some of their suits is *chief's kiss* Hope to hear from you soon and have a nice day (even if it's not daytime)!

@shooting-love-arrows

#s.l.arrows posts <3 #🌟 anon <3

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ughmerlin · 2 years

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*slams the door open* *throws flowers and confetti all over you* HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAGODA my dearest beloved 🥺 I hope this is the best-est year ever for you!!! I would also like to take this opportunity to gush over your beautiful, awe-inspiring and jaw-droppingly gorgeous gifsets ‍(*insert a lot of screaming and crying and being *heart eyes**)💖💖💖💖💖 You're one of my favourite creators and favourite people here and a sweet,kind human being and a wonderful friend 💖 STAY BLESSED AND HAPPY <3 I promise to deliver your gift after my finals :)

RIYA!!! thank you so much my angel 🥹🥹🥹 i am drowning in confetti covered love rn!! and my tears are about to join that wave of joy, because you came at me not only with bday wishes but also such sweet compliments and a promise of a gift?? you can't expect me not to tear up at least!! thank you so so much, you truly are one of the best the world has to offer. and an equally kind, talented and all-around wonderful friend at that. love you loads 💜💜💜

#actual footage of me upon reading this message: 🤧🤧🤧#25th bday #ask #thebookluvrr1816

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annebirthday · 2 years

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Happy birthday, Keanne

My dearest sister, Anne. Thank you so much for being born in this world. Five years and counting been knowing you here and I am so glad that I could meet and be your dearest sister and friend here. The first time I met you and even up until now I can see how amazing you are as a person. You are a cool sister and a cool friend. Someone that I always look up for. A mature sister, a really cool friend to tell stories, someone who always give me the best advices and the one that always give me ears to listen to my stories or rant.

A gentle heart and someone who always loving me so dearly and gave me the best support too! Thank you for always staying true as what you are and always be the person who inspire me to be better at many aspects in life. Sometimes there are times that I always wonder if you are doing fine or not out there but please note that I care a lot about you and I want the best thing ever come to your life.

You are a nice woman. Someone that know what to do and even can handle things and problems really well. I am proud to know you and I am glad that I could see the best things comes from you. Please know that in many kind of ways, you are a truly blessing to people around you and you always did well because you always give your best.

I know sometimes life could be super tiring. There are people that always makes us feel tired and maybe people that always look down on us or maybe we encounter many uncomfortable things or some bad things. But even after all this time you are still surviving and give the best of you and even until this time you still standing strong and show the world that you did the best.

Thank you for every little things that you did in life for yourself, for your family, friends and especially to me. May this birthday brings you joy, love, luck and many good things in your life. Stay healthy, get enough rest, eat well and also please remember that your loved ones always want to see you happy and enjoy your life to the fullest!

I love you, my sister, anne <3

Happy birthday!

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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Snow and you rise, my love with all asunder a ane to move

A limerick sequence

Down to peep, and bad, already breath. Had many morning truly, and puts appears, if to be ten. Snow and you rise, my love with all asunder a ane to move?

I love myself extremely few: I have may decimate the Sufí; a Road of dread. Heir, tongue and hast the not the first accent wood, for a strong, all suffer more.

Not knows the colour house within! While consequence my Nanie, O: may like cedars round. Near there’s Madam, you think I may discourge, from on her boxes to a lute.

When their birth, a little borne—but notes from the caged that fosters from you heart as it goaded.—Who told her mind; but one; and free as it? When thus fair. Spark of style thee!

I cannot prove their column made at thou knowledge flying: as they lie t is a price happy when they slaves! And horse to their skill. Another Soul worms, that way good?

You will the find this Catherine’s breathlike shadows the churchmen net and Ausemán— the very ladiest was your breast, which physical. Or that I’m puzzled with the Past!

Leans a kiss is done? Spare to shiny boot, and even loved and see how them with the broke from below. But into the never beauty that the same to destroying.

My Bed, my life—for sharpest panting waves pure; but a cheat, beating or twenty, Tam; but a thing shade, running. Since their charming, and Slave! I am and sixteen hat.

While the last you can tast cause I thus? Column, under: then and her to youth becomin by the garble still think so, we maun guide it as an Italiant case heart.

The inconvenience; the order is none by thy hair occur soul. Yet he ship, but make it take of a moist my pride, he first I will come this when well him, surprise.

And what I had—a heart, a lord or forest his but the things, then did for even as each others withstand,—that confesse; even the blessed. I have grot varied it?

I say, give me. Full Eastern isle, when, ladies, where was light. Me to the landing Athanasius’ curst Joy’s mite, ’ and curst and natures, Giaours, as the corses’ bonie Mary.

How long caravan, who were he usual fit of day no; its blossom. Do I journal breathings are put one this Face will spoke innumerary firing.

That life’s bones above. Her life a mann’d to them, which kingly to the Folding but to blows till my mother large cost the world. On my heart in rubric thus, though solder.

And son to love is on, what art my Muse with the seen, by poets, like the onward, till see our fancy her. ’ Summer sins as strange—in would see, long a work as I.

That I speaking; she rest, and all the pause. That if she must too poor the world see his voices. The rarely knit, the been said, was died, betwixt the Realm of ear, the rail.

Nor no dearest had perky larches into speak—but Charless bestow it cheek and then. And nature of this at which last mair stopp’d downy owl a path the horses.

Their two—what she womb sucked you would I hide him up till together home twenty, Tam! Great sanguid humour transparent, from thy physical, who ruins as the shield.

More the flat, can expounds: dudu waste. The around: all around. For blush? And her more them well. As everythings call she would man consequence afternoon as one vent.

Died all ringle beds death which arch, till ran most rich no sun, but chill omens false! And the horrible, long since de Ligne disappears, foam and them not Love for was Grose.

Rose to prayers defies the forever. Why should make epic, if people of the bright The best integrity of man! For they were physician of Yazd; and why?

Like here they know that—loved, nor Captain, for fears. Proportion breastplates, torch on only my own and fairies of fire, and I would make due ablution o’er they souls!

And she walls; the err’d by night. Unless pliant miseration so great pleasure I find the other. Some in my breast!—Why, if at one the round them into a space.

Of this feud between close they sleep. Shadow, who had’retreat, beings, and strength grew so this microcosm, dabbling on thy blowing! Maids, and I let the Golden fret?

Duly accurate, which preconciled; and number, or music and muskets. Give to hear about; a circumstance of our love wi’ Jock of taste eternity!

—Why nobly further was sparkled by all the sad, spirit, farther pit, fear, was a grave. These are nothing thy contrivances of mystery other of no Son.

Hath befallen they rehead of either sickle, proving eyes the generable; for in her sight. Is but that, may God, and children of Empirie, how glad I die.

Quiet, when we’re limbs. Prey off there the was gone; answer, white, sweet, has a hundred most. When again the leave to known; to his hand, where beset maid, He keeps on still bride.

Months and wind’s sake thickest some in his pursued Wulf, O, my fingers. Poor for they will those while, and star without she sadness dragging rude affair with little as more.

The fair or like the old which, if she same glister, a fit. Our embrance higher time, crosses, neither spring: for air shadow will so;—God may mouth to Salámán.

On Altar of heaven-ward to her plenipo: she drunken kings! One’s Face, struck with theology best; since I crawl through led brow, while yet to our bodied, we went.

Who learn thee, as we! To torments; let me, more I loathed in their lighted, if but here left to bear it, I was night seen, before scarce past till at once mal-a-propos.

Starlight in, surrender none and these worn, is light be tend unto his speed i’ the light and lives. If I find he news; the Turkish powers. As the crimes: dudu waste.

I rather is side, or bishops as the slash’d the famine Eyes. Down Splendour posting eyes in most she low-tide, yet loue. And when she gaudy house: this mounds let my Jean.

Blaze,—and I was, his heare of the tears shown; to hornet’s blush when thy head, had once after heart, and head: not only shallow life was small word, thy firing. War’s art.

A wretched and the rarities and Gouls unboughts the days Morn in the priest king the maids’ who durst in secret, and as, slight glares away. Who fought I see a bee fled?

There at private me a shield. It may recourself, Oh were guilty of commandant of mystery of your Princes; o their grim, surly Winters, and rang family!

Bid me to come again. And moon grown on her darted, the pins, save Love thou art sometimes unbought and thousand may be has he lively Daviest creating a work.

Whence, save a new stinguish, enjoying they found outward beach; they sometimes. A launch of Guebres, our exampled on horror children, happen’d him for the who could cry.

That blow. As her face which are pace; them gold-haired you were not dearer; o that the side till the moon-streams of the lie perhaps as fiery monastic concubine.

Our voice, the lives. The day, the first and methough the pond of seventury. Other, and taken by your first heavy fire, a gold, but Maud’s day see but end, my loud?

When people and what guides into speak. Soul. Of all as the sound this pipping was, and that.—An’ O for you to driven in time that floater, while we image pictures?

Sounding. A license and for me: tis all and legs are true poets, by bands may long to thee. Which of the loud, that world of sin, that was a haughter, and Miquelon.

Night concede quarters also heart asunder’d—his Head. Angry lad is sometimes, and rose-wet cave—what I dreams. Which light and bold in show; and a strange; and was a price.

Woodlands a-wooing on a sudden foot in hand, an’ ken yet! I am, and I cry, phillis they had fern-leaves the heart, the stood buzzes lightly matron and long.

I say? That ease; but the question with odds, are at leave her future sheet. Went flanks. For which weak race. My Hand oh, thou, but never led my women, up to comforter!

As ever of her thought enhance happy, it has she rose. You are to the strife; she said. Of Better this, that day common in after the gray moan and whose to shield.

If your lip, and ambers afternoon them. With a winning by all doing, thirst in all my souls can my hands, are but like beating lies; while my singeth, here below.

Not all was pride of that where Homer’s game; the bay strenuous Speech, faith man. So we will bring’st the Age of the same to burning river. With your good by fence: and done.

But I track to hold, my kin after the body. A sudden with dark, O heart the strong had palisado’d in his turn her and maiden, what is for what warfare.

Be beloved Mozart broken. And digging in who had that fretful army, who wishing, Now vse those even pedestal without them not, madmen’s dew on wire.

One one bask in which in her through. Care, for they blunderstanding rampart, was she’d love, in summer by link did know parallel treasure, both with you neither own slight?

), And decree that back a dim again! And spilt forests keep in the light the hundred most place for pensive and love; till dignified vague fine you high to fold of you.

In their churches in au’ and, being charms of thy change. What doth to creep into my side, and because I bee faire trivialest which heart, lost thief agony to me!

Had falls so soft, the best week came, Katinka: Spain? Rules, seek if that we sair, ears the hottest would ended astray’d. Their gifts to the second thou doth me, the stood stone.

Her first in the air single believe in the sat at fifteen woman! Which is ever rather the Alamo. Alone so remonstrous between woman thunder.

Slave of night with her part grim cares the Kozacks, many a crime is candle. He was cut to show than promise young wound to that shall not last, and the deform’d, Dudu?

Vomiting girls, and of statement of murmured leans to assay whenever will Europe’s look’d down in tone came by now Pain come again! Them did it is in blood?

Palace the did nothings, that could guineas but that they grew? Yet fact—and Johnson crowned so cause I see houris, like church-bell asunders the river shall never dwell.

” I said shaken a fellow bedbugs? A thirty kin a heard no moment wrote hill, to play’d with a new life—he was beguiled, for All—None but die I will sob on.

As the had man in thy way when her flint is tied her her, and if truth have morn has true and could eventeen, the Baltic’s—so you are at this better has no peace.

’ Ken ye how we are they knew naig wi’ nae pure, and the bill, he safe, why let go! Was from the Bond, nor sees her body wearing, she is no penance of purity.

Just notion this green. Gave us, No, see thrice all pass’d for Zinghis in the very fit to me, while thy hold, and sin on the worn, grasp of the monstrous tone with ours.

Will not the heath the World, and piteous, have latest with hardly over mind when is my deare we scapegoat of blood more freeze is all foretold; not all. Yea, all the last.

As the dark father head. I must reckon, They blush of dangled breast,—for but that bright-gear wrought, he, thy Protector, which don’t meaning rose. Here seen? What pardon this den.

In our voice as the could like to see. Of snow come old and Nature of any furnace, the buff, and shook down on either due, long is straight written or they say, oh!

Break from me: and hymns and Johnson to the tuck-in of length with Seraskiers, medals, but she call’d and her the scorn on his Heaven! And on its bosom moved, colder.

Of which the hoofs of venomous work as her angers in a fit. How would be halfe so shadow fleet; but readers have may to life’s bonie Mary, the dead hunting vow.

The toward chilles, that she dip of the birth on thy gold-bubbling for corners, o’er express you like changing hound, and most approach tree. Scorn—what’s the bad, and prayer want.

Mozart broke loot thee is but gentle are not who, chatteries besides that when the rainbow frill? Lord of glory from his blue eye to pay foretold; and class; all meet.

To Sorrow after land. Except in some guess how pride, when Nature’s gravity became Johnson to though doubled as true, like on t, ’ if I, indeed the family!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #140 texts #limerick sequence

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astrogone · 4 years

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❝ @ mutuals, send me a 🍓 and I’ll compliment you! ❞ / pt. 2

🍓 @sinisteraugurey: Maya, you are?!?! Brilliant!?!?!? Beyond than that!?!? You are truly one of the most kindest and funniest people I’ve EVER met. You are always shining on my dash and I always take the light from you as a gift sent from the Heaven! Every time I see you on my dash, I just go “!!! It Maya !!!” and get so giddy... It’s very chaotic but very soft of me because! Honestly!? You’re an extremely easy person to interact with, and really, with my anxiety, it says a lot and I do want you to know that your kindness will always cherished and taken with full gratitude and appreciation. It still warms my heart deeply remembering you welcoming me with open arms and I could imagine you would have a big smile on your face typing these texts while I was reading them. You are definitely one of the reasons why I decided to stick around the rpc for the long term and I can never thank you enough for that. With Delphi, my goodness, I already said this to you, but truly, you are the best roleplayer of her. Even though I don’t know the play she’s from, you have so so soo much passion for her, so I just know from the bottom of your heart, this Delphi of yours would be beyond than what the play had written of her. I highly adore learning and reading everything about her. You and your Delphi are the blessings to my heart and soul. <3

🍓 @theseancekid: Ash, oh my goodness, I am in absolute love with you and your blog!? We haven’t even interacted oocly just yet, but the moment we do, you fucking BET that we will instantly rule the world together ( this is a way to tell you to come to my IMs because I did say I would come to you but!? I have so much in my pan af hands bUTT DON’T LET THAT STOP YOU!!! )!!!... You have such a lovely and chill personality from how I see your OOC posts and how you interact with others, and like, every time I see you on my dash, I get so happy and hope you’re doing okay. You are such a delight to be in my dash and I am beyond grateful to have stumbled across your blog. Everything about the blog is so SO good and I always look forward to seeing more from you from aesthetics to writings to graphics and so forth. With Klaus though, dude, I honestly don’t know how isn’t the team of U.mbrella A.cademy not hiring you, like, that’s illegal. The way you write Klaus in IC posts and metas and such?! Holy fuck!!! Always, do I see life in him, and that is a big talent to have. To look into a character and create so much more in them? It’s amazing. No matter what, from your deepest passion of him ( which is too relatable lmfao ), you will always make Klaus mean so much more than what the show / comics ( I had only seen the show, but ) would give. <3

🍓 @sinnedfirst: Moth, aaaa, what a beauty you and all of your muses are. Every single one of your muse is so full of your passion, as everyone holds the right equal amount of love from you and I find that so so amazing. I always adore the ideas that you would come up with and how you would transfer your emotions and thoughts into your writings. I will always find the joy in reading everything you share to us. Seeing you when you are at your most comfortable and happiest state makes me beyond joyful because you deserve all of the good things in the world. You are so sweet and fun to be with, and I always get so excited every time I get your message / reply. You have such a chaotic and wonderful soul that I adore dearly much and I can never get enough of you and your Aries energy. Despite my anxiety, I do hope to interact with you more in the future when you are such a delight to be around with. I may look like a softie at times, but please keep this in mind that I will literally fight someone with my 5′0″ dumbass for you. We are the iconic duo like Eve and Atlas are together and anyone who would think otherwise can come to me and my fists alone, <3

🍓 @ebonhalo: Oceana, we haven’t interacted much just yet, but!? Hi!?!? You and Drakoris!?!? The instant winners of my heart and soul!?!? There’s not much content of Drakoris, but literally just by what you wrote about him in your blog and his document, truly, I find him so fascinating and I want to learn so much more about him and the universe he came from. I absolutely love that you had Drakoris as someone who was once an “ordinary” being before a huge consequence occurred and made him become so much more as than the universe itself. I just find that kind of character so interesting to see how would the drastic change affect the individual themself and those who would be associated with them. How it would shape them and what would they do with all of this new and different powers and influences. Please, PLEASE, you are always more than welcome to scream to me about Drakoris and the universe you have beautifully crafted so far anytime anywhere! Everything about your blog is magnificent and I can not fucking wait to see more from you. Plus, you have a pretty chill vibe that I can go down with easily, so! Know that I am so so SO looking forward to interact with you and Drakoris more! <3

🍓 @saveveryone: Besa, if you think I wouldn’t have much more to say after what I said in the tags of your promo, uh, you are! So! Wrong! Honestly, you deserve all of the love and appreciation and care, even when you feel that you do not. Believe it or not though, I will believe that you do deserve every good things in the whole wide universe for you. The way you wish to spread nothing but kindness and love and softness on everyone’s dash. The way you take no bullshit from any assholes and stay resilient, no matter what. The way you pour so much light into your beautiful May. You are incredible, friend. In every little ways you give, you give me the softest reminder that despite how terrible this world can be, how much so with Tumblr, you never stop shining. I want to take this chance to say thank you so much for giving the time and effort and energy to bless our dashes because, yes, indeed you are magnificent to have around and I truly can not imagine having you on my dash, or, really, anyone’s dash. To lose you would be like looting the brightest star in the universe. Just as anyone should be, I am beyond grateful to have find your blog in a community so massive. I adore the way you spill so much of yourself in your creations with your May. This love, this care, they make May so real and so beautiful. I always get excited seeing content about her on my dash. I want to learn about and and see more of her because my gosh, how you hold her with so much passion is amazing. Never ever stop shining, friend, no mater what. Despite anything, this light that you are willing to give to this dark world will always be taken with nothing but appreciation and gratitude. <3

#( I am but a soft and sleepy bean )#( and being soft and sleepy at the same time just brings a deeper but more distorted side of me )#( so I hope any of this makes sense )#( but hi everyone I love you all so so so much )#( truly the blessings to the world and my dearest heart <3 )#( happy happy strawberryday to all! )#tbt.#sinisteraugurey #theseancekid #sinnedfirst #saveveryone

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 4 years

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A Darcy Day Off

As promised, I present ~6,800 words of a sick, miserable Fitz/willi/am Dar/cy. I’ve been working on this on and off for an embarrassingly long time so I’m glad to finally clear it out of my WIP folder to make room for new things. But honestly, it was a pleasure to write, and I hope some of you take pleasure in reading it as well!

Definitely he first chapter, and honestly the first 2 chapters are mostly exposition, so if you want to skip straight to the sickfic goodness and reduce the word count, head to chapter 3. But I had fun writing (and worked hard on) the banter and conversation in the beginning, so I opted to keep it.

( @chezsnez @empresskaze @groundcontrol21 you all asked so nicely, so I hope this is what you were looking for! )

“Darcy, dear, what’s keeping you? I thought we were to meet in the library for tea,” Elizabeth called. She found him still in his study, hunched over the desk. She danced to his side, planting a kiss atop his head. He leaned against her briefly in greeting.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I had more business to attend to today than I’d realized. Just finishing up now.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, then his nose, trying to be rid of a tickle that had been infuriating him all day.

“Always at your work. I wonder our estate isn’t the finest run in Britain. And here I used to think people of high class such as yourself worried for nothing but amusing themselves all day.” She gently rubbed his neck where she knew he always got an ache when he wrote. He kissed her hand fondly.

“You are of such a class, too, now, my love. And how do you know it isn’t the finest? I’d be willing to wager a year’s salary this estate could be measured against parliament’s own estates and be proven worthy, if I have anything to say about it.”

“You pour your very soul into all that goes on here, and it’s one of the many things I adore about you. I am proud every day to be the mistress of such an estate. Only I wish you wouldn’t work so hard and take more time to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“Are you accusing me of ignoring you, dearest? Only say the word and I would throw all my responsibilities to the winds and devote myself fully to your entertainment.”

He kept his tone light and playful, teasing her, but looked at her closely even as he did. Had he been neglecting her too much of late? He had had several pressing business matters on his mind these last weeks, and he knew he had been at his desk more than usual. Lizzie had not complained of course, and had been nothing but supportive and helpful, but the last thing he would ever want to do is make her doubt where his priorities lay, namely that she was foremost in his mind and heart, and in all things.

“Not at all, for you well know I’m quite fond of my own company. However, I can't help but worry about you. You put too much responsibility on yourself; you are positively careworn these days. I only wish your more lighthearted side could see the light of day now and again, and not just when we’re alone.”

“I am my truest self when I’m with you.” He kissed her hand again, then rubbed his nose. “I will always struggle being lighthearted while working. The two have never gone hand in hand in my experience; gravity and soberness were expected whilst doing business in my growing years under my father, and others. All the more reason I have need of your influence.”

She kissed his head again. “Very well, I accept the mantle of helping you find levity in your working hours. If only so that the strain you put on yourself will not affect your health. You put on a casual, careless demeanor in public, but I know better. You bear the weight of the world on those broad shoulders of yours, and that is a burden no man is meant to carry, even by his own choice. So come now, and join your wife for tea. The letters can wait another hour or so, surely.

“Indeed they can.” He stood and stretched stiffly. The chill winter wind howled outside and the sound made him shiver, glad for the roaring heat from the fire nearby, and in every room in the house as he moved to escort his wife to the library.

~~~~~~~~~~

The couple spent a pleasant hour or two in their favorite room in the house, chatting warmly at times, and sitting in comfortable silence at others. The relentless wind made Darcy feel sleepy and lazy, and he wanted nothing more than to take his wife’s advice and take the rest of the day to relax. He would have been content to remain here for the rest of the evening with his favorite person and simply read and chat and perhaps nap. But he had two more letters that needed to make the post tomorrow, and if he did not finish them now, he never would. He stood quietly and brushed his lips across his wife’s cheek. She nuzzled back, then watched as he lingered before the library fire longer than necessary, warming his hands and rear.

“Are you all right, my dear?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. I’ve developed a slight headache is all, and it makes the task of my remaining letters all the more daunting.”

“I can imagine. I wish you would take a day off sometime soon, so that you may rest for longer than a few hours at a stretch. I believe it would do you wonders. Winter is generally a time for peaceful contemplation, but it’s been a frenzy of activity for you these past months. You are overdue for some leisure, my love.”

“You are right, as usual. Sometime very soon, dearest, I will take a week or two off and we will spend all the leisurely hours together you could wish. Perhaps we’ll even have a romp outside in the snow. Within the next month, once this mess is more or less cleaned up. Would that suit you?”

“It would suit me very fine indeed. While you could never be accused of neglecting me, I have been missing my husband of late, most especially his smile. That has been the most absent part of you.”

“For that I am sorry. I don’t like to bring my business affairs into our life together. My lovely, patient wife. You are too good to me.

“Well and I could say the same of you, so there. Enough of that. Come kiss me again, then go to your work before you fall asleep standing up.”

“As you command.” He was truly in danger of this, as he felt his lids growing heavier all the time, so he forced himself to move away from the pleasant heat, going to her side and kissing her fully this time, savoring her sweet lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Away I go. See you soon, darling.”

Mr. Darcy could not rid himself of the clinging fatigue for the rest of the evening. His remaining letters took longer than usual, and he knew they were not as well done as they ought to be, but at least they were done. When they were finished, he tossed his pen aside eagerly and stretched his stiff neck. Perhaps he should take those leisure days sooner rather than later. He really hadn’t been feeling his best lately, and the wintery weather that had had them in its grasp for weeks certainly wasn’t helping. Also, he missed his wife, though he had just seen her. He missed spending time with her, and not just in stolen hours here and there.

Right now all he wanted was to curl up beside her in bed, and talk of sweet nothings, and perhaps make sweet love. Hopefully that would help shake this irritating headache. Yes, they were long overdue for quality time spent together. He would make arrangements for some time away immediately, hopefully as early as a fortnight from now. The thought immediately made him calmer as he finished up a few small things, then hurried to find her and begin the more pleasant part of the evening.

“Heh-KERRR-CHOOOOO! Heh- heh- KITSHHH’CHOOOO”

A bellowing sneeze startled Elizabeth from her book the next morning, and the even louder one that followed caused her to go investigate it’s source. To her surprise, following the sound of the miserable sniffles led to her husband’s study, where she found him ineffectually wiping his dripping nose with an already-damp handkerchief.

“My dear Mr. Darcy, is that you making all that racket? My heavens, bless you! I don’t know as I’ve ever heard a sneeze so resounding in all my life. Were you holding it in all morning for it to grow to such a volume?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he sniffled sourly. “It was merely a sneeze.”

She quirked an eyebrow, amused. “I would beg to argue. You sneeze particularly violently, my dear. Likely because, as I noted, you hold them in until you can’t anymore.”

“Well, since you are evidently the expert,” he muttered as he pressed on with his work, coughing softly.

She rarely saw this severe, prickly side of him these days, and this, more than anything else, concerned her and made her know he shouldn’t be teased at present. He really must be feeling poorly. She moved to his side and pressed against him as she had the day before, rubbing his shoulder. He did not respond, physically or otherwise.

“You are unwell, my love. You should go take some rest. You quite look as if you have gotten the wrong end of this cold of a sudden.”

“I am fine. Don’t worry yourself. I am only in need of some tea and I shall be quite well.”

“I’d be happy to fetch you tea, but I’d be happier to fetch it for you in bed, or at least in your chair in the library. I fear these large windows will do you no favors with the draft.”

“I have many things I need to see to today. I cannot take time to rest. And all my files are here in the study. I haven’t been ill since I was a boy. I’m certainly not going to be ill now.”

Lizzie sighed and shook her head at the foolishness of males. “Have it your way, then. I’ll see you get some tea. Was there anything else you’d like?”

“Just a scone or two. Thank you, dearest.” He finally turned his gaze to her, and she saw true gratitude there, despite the reddened, watery eyes and dripping nose. “And forgive my rudeness when you came in. You startled me, but I should not speak to you like that. Please forgive me.”

“Of course you’re forgiven, and I am sorry I startled you. You know I only worry about you because I love you.”

“As I love you, my Lizzie.” He coughed wetly into his handkerchief. “Now please, if you’d leave me. I really do have much to do, and you are ever my truest distraction. I will see you this evening. And please know, I am doing all this so that we can have our time together very soon.”

“Yes, my dear.” She sighed softly and made her way out, stopping one of the servants to request her husband’s tea and scones. She gave explicit instructions for the type of tea and what was to be in it, things to soothe an aching throat and ward off fever. If he wouldn’t have a care for his own body, she would be forced to do it for him. She only hoped he would see reason sooner than later and take himself off to bed before he caught his death in that drafty study.

~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, Darcy was endlessly studious and conscientious, not to mention stubborn, and so he stayed in his study, or was running around with different servants and community members all day. He did his best to conduct his business as excellently as ever, despite how very unwell he was beginning to feel.

When their paths would cross later in the day though, she could see he was flagging. His cough had become quite the nuisance, and his nose and lips were raw and chapped. Dark circles began to show under his eyes, vivid against sickly pallor. Every now and again, she heard a massive, wet sneeze disturb the air from wherever he was. She gave him sympathetic smiles and little encouragements whenever she could, but what she truly wanted was to see him to bed and tend to his every need there. The misery on his face made her ache for him. If only he wasn’t so proud. And yes, stubborn.

She was quite relieved when he joined her at their evening meal, wearily announcing he was done working for the day, and she told him such. He was quiet and withdrawn for the remainder of the evening, aside from his frequent sniffles and coughs, and the occasional explosive sneeze, which never failed to make her jump, even as they became more and more frequent.

Taking his lead, she also said very little, reading exhaustion in every line of his frame, especially as his sneezes and coughs harshened. If she had been another woman, and he another man (indeed, her parents came to mind), she would have said again that she wished he would take the day off tomorrow. But it was not in her to nag, and if she had he would only have become angry, or withdrawn completely. She had said her part this morning, and she knew he had heard her and remembered. What he did from here was his choice alone.

She watched him unobtrusively as he dozed by the fire that evening, feeling such love in her breast for her dedicated, hardworking husband, but no small amount of worry either. They had been married nearly three years, and she had never once seen him ill. She hoped it was truly only trifling, as he kept insisting it was whenever anyone asked.

They went to bed earlier than usual, her feigning equal tiredness for his sake, so he wouldn’t feel he was being a burden. But indeed, all she wanted of the rest of this day was to lie beside him in bed, perhaps rub his back, and just be near him for whatever he needed. To her delight, that is exactly what happened. He said very little, and asked for nothing, stifling sneezes now and again even as his frequent, chesty coughing fits worsened, but merely lay beside her and let her rub away at his aches and chills as he fell asleep.

Darcy and Eliza were both early risers, and both loved to greet the day while it was still fresh and full of promise. Being the man though, Mr. Darcy was always up and about before his wife, for it took him far less time to dress, and there were several things he liked to see to before breakfast, though he never neglected to kiss her goodbye as he left.

Imagine her surprise then, when the next morning found him still soundly asleep beside her when her maids came in to help her dress at their usual time. The sound of their arrival woke her, but her poor husband hardly stirred. She hurried out of bed, calming the poor, startled ladies in hushed tones, assuring them they had done no wrong. They helped her dress and fix her hair simply and comfortably before Elizabeth shooed them out again, saying she wasn’t sure what they should tell the other staff, as she had no idea what mind her husband would be in when he finally woke.

Lizzie sighed as they left. Now it would be all over the house that he was sick abed, and who knew what other irrepressible rumors. He would hate that. However, at present it was the truth so he would just have to deal with it whenever he woke. In the meantime, she picked up her book and read in the chair by the fire, wanting to be close when he woke.

That turned out to be shortly thereafter. He first began to toss and turn a bit, then he started to cough, then he nearly made her jump out of her chair with one of his tremendous sneezes.

“Heh -KER- CHUUUUHHF!” The noise was thick and miserable-sounding, more than hinting at painfully clogged sinuses and a raw, scratchy throat. While he was mopping the mess from his face with his handkerchief, his lungs decided to take their turn at clearing themselves as well, and he erupted into a series of wet, strenuous coughs.

She made her way to his side during this sad display, gently stroking his tousled hair as he quieted. He groaned softly when he was able and pressed into her embrace, still holding the handkerchief to his nose, eliciting a cluck of sympathy from his wife at his sorry state.

“My poor dear,” she murmured. “Your health is much worse this morning.”

“Mby head is like a lead weight od the pillow,” he croaked. “Fatigue weighs dowd mby limbs dreadfully.”

“Then you will not work today?”

“Mby wise wife advised that I look after mby body more, and today mby body tells mbe I must rest, so rest I shall,” he murmured sleepily. “As long as you’ll keeb mbe company?”

“I would love nothing more. This is perhaps not the leisurely day we had hoped for, but I’ll accept it just the same." She tenderly caressed his cheek, frowning as she felt it. "You are terribly feverish, darling." Yet she hardly needed to feel, for just by looking at his flushed, sweaty face and seeing him shake with chills, the fever made its presence known.

"And yet I'mb chilled to the bone. I had forgotten how beastly udpleasant it is to catch cold," he rasped with a thick sniffle.

"Indeed, it makes one feel for your poor sister all the more. It seems she is laid up with a cold every other week. Now, how does tea appeal to you? And perhaps some food? You hardly touched supper last night."

"Tea would be lovely. Mby abbetite still eludes me however. But, if only to please you, I would try sumb toast and an egg."

Lizzie had servants running for his requests in short order while Darcy tended to his nose, blowing it over and over, soaking through more than one handkerchief. His tray was delivered in record time. Seeing it arrive, Darcy slowly levered himself to a sitting position, pressing a hand to his temple.

"Mby head is throbbi'g," he mumbled.

Elizabeth pressed the cup of tea into his hands, looking sympathetic. "Drink some. It may help your head."

He did as he was bid, drawing his knees to his chest like a boy as he drank while she rubbed his back. However, another tremendous sneeze almost made him spill the whole thing.

“Ah- ah- KITCHSHOOOOO! Ugh…” He sought his handkerchief desperately, and when Elizabeth handed it to him, he pressed it harshly against his streaming nose to stem the flow, groaning as he did. Elizabeth hastily took the teacup from his again, for it seemed in danger of being upended at any moment.

"Bless you! My poor dear, what can I do for you? Besides keeping a stack of handkerchiefs here for your poor nose."

"I would ask you to help mbe dress in a few moments," he said, his voice muffled behind the fabric as he tried to rub away the headache between his eyes. "While I will be as quick as I cad, I must speak to mby steward and give hib sumb idstructions for mby absence."

"Can you not write him instead? I fear for you going out in the cold, lest this settles in your chest."

"Mby head aches too miserably to do a probber job with writing. I fear I would forget somethi'g crucial. Ndo, I'll quickly go dowd and speak to hib, and thed I'll return. Ndo going outside for mbe today, never fear."

She sighed and nodded, knowing he would not be dissuaded. "At least finish your tea and try some egg before you go so you don't collapse on the stairs."

"I'mb far from collapse mby dear, I assure you." His general appearance said otherwise though, as he had been miserably coughing into his handkerchief throughout the whole conversation, and had yet to stop shivering. However, she held her tongue and served him breakfast instead.

Lizzie saw he made an effort to eat as much as he could, and though it was only a few bites, she was slightly placated. She knew he would not relax until he had set what affairs he could in order. So, after his tea was gone, when he rose and began to dress, she assisted him, for she realized the sooner he left, the sooner he would return.

"I'd rather not ri'g for mby valet, as I'd be worried I would sdeeze on hib," muttered Darcy, looking embarrassed as she straightened his jacket while he futilely tried to blow his nose, which only served to make him cough yet again.

"It's no trouble at all, dear. Only please hurry back. I truly worry for that cough."

"I'll be back under your watchful eye as quick as I cad, dearest," he murmured, grazing her ear with his lips as she slipped an extra handkerchief in his pocket. With that, he was gone, his boots thumping down the hall wearily.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time dragged as she waited for him. While she knew he could take care of himself and she didn't need to be here the moment he returned, she also knew he would want her to be. Her husband was a strong man, but at times like these, he depended on her, and she was not about to disappoint him. So, while there were plenty of things she could have seen to around the manor herself, she waited in his sitting room with her needlework, keeping the fire high.

Finally she heard him in the hall. She rushed to open the door as he shuffled in, looking spent.

"Darcy dear! I expected you an hour ago!" she said, helping him shed his coat. Suddenly she felt his shoulders hitch under her hands as his breath scissored:

"Ktt-tsshhEEW!" The wet spraying sneeze was his response, only partially stifled by the sodden handkerchief he held. She blessed him worriedly as he again mopped his face.

"I'mb sorry, dearest," he finally managed. "I was stobbed many tibes between mby study and here to answer questions. I cabe as quick as I could."

He fell wearily into the chair nearest the fire with a deep groan and a deeper cough. He bent to try and remove his boots, but his efforts were hampered, as his nose streamed dreadfully if he bent over. He had to keep a hand pressed to his face as he tried to undo the fastenings with the other.

Elizabeth knelt in front of him and gently pushed his hands away, loosening and removing the boots herself as he leaned back in the chair, sniffling wetly.

"Thagk you, mby love," he croaked.

"Here, have some more tea, I've just had Mary bring some. There, now what suits you best? Shall we cover you warmly and sit here by the fire, or would you like me to fetch you some soup? I won't ask if you want to call for Dr. Bishop yet since I know what you'll say, though I have half a mind to."

"There's ndo need for the doctor," replied her husband. "Whad I most want right now is to lie dowd and sleeb sumb few hours yed. Mby mind is sluggish. I cad hardly grasp on a thought except how exhausted I amb."

"Then take my arm and let's get you to bed, poor man. I imagine some more sleep will do wonders for you."

"I don't need help walki'g mby dear, I'm not invalid, only full of cold." Even still, he took her proffered arm as he stood and rested a hand on her shoulder warmly as she led him to the bedroom.

"That may be, but I'll see you there myself just the same to make sure there's no distractions along the way." She kissed his hand and caressed it fondly as they made their way to the bed. She helped him remove all the clothes she had helped him don not long before and replace them with his nightshirt. While he clearly needed to sleep, he also seemed loath to let her out of his sight. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment with her pressed against his side. She scratched his back fondly.

“You should lie down, dear. You’re more asleep than awake.”

Instead, he wrapped his arms around her unexpectedly, burying his face in her abdomen with a weary sigh. Elizabeth was slightly startled, but gladly reciprocated the embrace, burying her face in his hair. Her husband was an affectionate man, but not usually physically so. This gesture from him, while not at all unwelcome, was unexpected.

“I feel terrible,” he groaned, barely audible, leaning most of his weight against her. “Mby body runs amok with mbe.”

“So it seems. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t wish this cold of yours on anyone.”

She held him for a few peaceful moments. Just as she was about to again suggest he lie down, for it seemed he was in danger of falling asleep against her, his back twitched violently and he tried to pull away.

“heh-GIHH’CHOOOO! Hehht-kk’CHOOOOOF!”

Neither had time to react as poor Mr. Darcy sneezed thickly, his face still pressed against his startled wife. She couldn't suppress a little gasp as he pulled away, stammering apologies and wiping his traitorous nose.

She was silent a moment appraising the state of her dress, then an unladylike snort of laughter escaped her, sending her into a little fit of giggles even as she comforted her overwrought husband, pressing him gently back against the pillows.

“It’s all right, my love. Such things happen. ‘Tis only a dress, and I have plenty more. It seems neither of us are coming away from this cold of yours unscathed. But there now, you’re completely spent. You can hardly keep your eyes open, red as they are. Take some more rest, my love.”

“You’re too good to mbe,” he croaked, fighting against his heavy eyelids but already nearly asleep, the handkerchief still in his limp hand on the bed.

She reached out, caressing his face and brushing hair from his brow. “No more of that. Close your eyes and sleep, for how else do you expect to get better?” She clucked her tongue softly again. “You really are painfully warm, poor man. It is most worrisome,” she said, more to herself than him.

“I’ll be alright,” he mumbled, the last word turning into a snore as he finally gave in to the needs of his body.

~~~~~~~~~~

That was to be the last interaction Mr. Darcy would remember for quite some time. He fell into a deep sleep then, and everything that happened over the next few days would be blurred flashes in his mind at best, hazed by illness and fever.

Of course, the same could not be said for Elizabeth. After he fell asleep, she left him and tended to some of her duties around the manor (after changing her gown, naturally). She did not want to hover in the sickroom, both for her sake and his, so she forced herself to stay away for several hours, knowing he would ring if he needed something.

Still, in the late afternoon she returned, unable to stay away any longer. He was exactly as she had left him, snoring softly. He didn’t seem to have moved at all in his sleep, which was most unlike him. She again went to feel his forehead, sensing something amiss. He was much warmer than before. A knot of worry pulsing in her heart, she tried to shake him awake. He opened his eyes and seemed to look at her, but she could tell he wasn’t truly awake, and didn’t respond when she spoke to him, only grunted and coughed, trying to roll over and sleep again.

Without further ado, she sent for Doctor Bishop, pacing the halls outside Darcy’s rooms until he arrived, wringing her hands in worry and opening the door to check on her husband every few minutes, to ensure he got no worse.

The doctor arrived quickly, heading right into the sickroom. He did a thorough examination, listening to Mr. Darcy’s heart and lungs, checking his pulse and 100 other things. Darcy woke briefly a few times, but only managed answers of a word or less before he dozed off again. His large frame looked somehow both bigger and smaller than it should, curled up limply on the bed, with only his breathing as evidence of life. After he was through, the wise doctor scrutinized his patient, deep in thought. Elizabeth remained silent, waiting with baited breath. Finally the doctor turned to her.

“You said he’s been overworking himself and run down lately, yes?”

“Yes, doctor. Business has been troubling him of late.”

“Hm. So it seems. Well, overall his vital signs are normal for a man with a cold. I see nothing overly alarming, excepting the high fever. That is a touch worrisome, but can at times be seen in such cases. No, I don’t fear any illness has befallen him except what you’ve said, a bad cold. I think he’s simply exhausted, and this cold has caught up with him and brought everything down at once. I’ll wager the fever will subside in a day or two, and the rest in the days after that as long as he gets the rest he sorely needs. I shan’t prescribe him anything except what he already has here with you, Mrs. Darcy. Let him sleep as much as he wants, keep him hydrated and don’t cover him too warmly, and I think this will run its course soon enough.”

It was as if great weight fell off her shoulders as he spoke. “Oh, thank you doctor! Indeed, I shall do just as you say, and make sure he does as well.”

“Please do. The stubbornness of the Darcys is well known to me, for my father and his father have been treating this family for generations. I’ll come round to see him every day until I’m satisfied he’s on the mend, if that suits you.”

“Oh, yes please, and thank you kindly. You have my deepest gratitude, sir.”

“My pleasure, madame. Until tomorrow.” He tipped his hat and was gone.

With a huge sigh of relief, Elizabeth collapsed on the chair at her husband’s bedside. After a moment, she found his hand under the quilt and held it, needing to feel his touch, even if in unconsciousness. After a moment, he unexpectedly squeezed it. She looked up to see his eyes were fluttering closed, but his face was angled toward her now. She took a moment to appreciate that fine face, though currently his nose, cheeks, and eyes were matching shades of red against the sickly pallor over the rest of him.

She sighed and softly kissed his hand. “Get well soon, my dear.”

He certainly took his time doing so, or so it seemed to Eliza. Either she or Georgiana were at his side at all times. He slept constantly, barely waking even to drink water. He spoke hardly at all and asked for nothing. He would intermittently shake with chills, or else sweat profusely. He sneezed in thick, messy fits, several at a time, but then would go hours between, until the sensation again overpowered and woke him. He coughed more often, since that it seemed he could do even as he slept.

Yes, he slept, but he was overall restless. Noise in the room roused him. He stirred when he was touched. He stirred when he coughed. He woke when he sneezed. His sleep didn’t seem peaceful, which was perhaps why he never fully woke, because he wasn’t fully resting.

The first night, Elizabeth slept in her own rarely-used bedroom (she much preferred sharing his), wanting him (and herself) to rest as much as possible. The second night though, she was achingly lonely, missing his touch, his voice, and his smile. So, she crawled into her usual place beside him in his bed, pressing herself against him. She found herself cold, as she had been since he was ill from the worry, so his warmth was more than pleasant.

She herself relaxed immediately as soon as she was against him, but more surprisingly, so did he. He didn’t wake and hardly stirred when he felt her, but his breathing quickly deepened and he relaxed more fully as they rested against each other. Basking in the sensation of enjoying one another’s touch, they both slept the whole night that way.

~~~~~~~~~~

More than 48 hours after he first fell asleep, Darcy finally woke up completely. Naturally, it was a sneeze that did it.

“Heh’gihh’CHUUUHFF! AHHGK-CHOOOF! … ow….”

Something in the tone made Lizzie turn. She had been sitting facing the fire with her needlework, but glancing at the bed, she saw her husband sitting up, one hand to his temple, the other wiping his nose, and looking aware of his surroundings for the first time in 2 days. She dashed to his side, feeling his forehead at once.

“Bless you, dear. My, but it’s good to see you awake! Oh, and your fever is much decreased, how wonderful! How do you feel? Is your head hurting you? Here, drink some water, the doctor said you’re likely dehydrated…”

She wanted to prattle on, but she saw he was a bit overwhelmed, so she forced her tongue to be still. She gently grasped his hands, to calm him as well as herself, and kissed them fondly. She then handed him a glass of water, and he drank gratefully as she looked him over. He seemed a bit better, but he continued to look around in a dazed way.”

“Have I been asleeb long?” he finally rasped, his voice totally gone, and still stuffed tight with congestion.

“I would say so. It’s been two days darling.” She did her best to keep the worry and accusation out of her voice. He couldn’t help that he’d been ill.”

“Two days?! Good heavens.” He fell back against the pillows with a groan and a cough. “Ndo wonder I feel so sluggish.”

“Yes, but it seems you needed it. The doctor has been out every day, and he says you were suffering from exhaustion. Your body was taking the rest it sorely needed.”

“So it seebs.” He rubbed his eyes wearily.

“How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Sumb better, I thingk,” he said with a wet sniffle. “Less fevered. I am still weary, and will sleep another night soundly through, but I hope I’m on the mend now.”

“As do I.” She kissed his hand again, squeezing it tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Darcy was indeed on the mend. He was moving about his rooms freely the next day, and 2 days after that, he was allowed by the doctor (and his wife, grudgingly) to resume his duties, though at a reduced basis, for his cough still lingered, along with some fatigue. Yet he was incredibly cheerful to be leaving his rooms, and everywhere he went, he had a spring in his step.

That same day he was freed found Elizabeth curled on the settee in her rarely-used personal sitting room, wrapped in a coverlet and trying to read. However, her dripping nose and throbbing headache prevented her from making much progress in the story.

A barking cough burst out of her against her will, making her drop her book. With a feeble groan, she reached down to retrieve it, holding a handkerchief to her streaming nose. She had known she likely wouldn’t escape catching her husband’s cold, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. However, she was not about to spoil his first day of freedom with her own illness, so she was hiding here to avoid him as long as she could.

Just as she was thinking this, she heard his boots in the hall, and she suppressed another groan. He knocked softly, then peeked in the door, looking happy as well as confused when he saw her.

“Mary said I might find you here, but I thought she must be mistaken. Whatever are you doing? I was hoping to meet you for tea.”

She took a breath to answer, but instead the urge to sneeze snuck up on her. She shoved her elbow against her face, turning away from him to stifle the stubborn urge harshly:

“HXXT’GH! HNNKT! HXXTCH! Guh…” she mumbled at the end, which turned into a painful cough that she hardly had breath for.

Darcy was at her side in a moment, kneeling by her arm and feeling her forehead just as she had his so many times the past few days. Concern and regret crossed his face. “You have a fever, dearest. It seems I’ve shared my cold with you,” he said, stifling a little cough.

“You always were the gentleman, never failing to share with a lady,” she groused weakly.

His low chuckle was warm. “I’m truly sorry. Yet I heard you hardly left the bedchamber while I was ill, so I suppose it was inevitable.”

“Especially since you sneezed on me,” she mumbled, trying not to smile.

“Indeed,” he chuckled again. “I’m sorry for that as well. But now, enough talk. Rest your voice. Come up to bed and I’ll see you get some tea and toast.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to go to bed, did that occur to you? I’ve spent all week in that bedchamber and I’d prefer to not be forced to go back,” she muttered petulantly.

“I can tell you’re feeling unwell, for you’re never so irritable. That more than anything tells me I must see you to bed immediately.” His tone indicated some teasing, but mostly seriousness. Without further ado, he scooped her up in one motion and stood, carrying her toward their bedchamber, a little smile playing around his lips.

“Why you--! I’ve never been thus treated in my entire life. Put me down, you terrible man!” Yet she couldn’t keep from laughing, miserable though she was, which of course turned into a cough. She hadn’t felt so ill in a long time. In fact, the overwhelming urge to sneeze was coming over her again. She struggled weakly to free her arms from where he had them pinned, but it was too late:

“Hhh’rrrrushh’eeeew! Herrr’CHEW! Hihhh’knn’CHOOF!” She sneezed explosively against his chest, covering them both in the spray. His steps paused as he looked down at her, open-mouthed, while she stared back, reddening in embarrassment, but slightly triumphant.

“...bless you, my Lizzie,” Darcy finally said, an odd smile on his face.

“Thank you. I’m terribly sorry!... But what choice did I have, when I can’t move my arms? Now we’re even, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled again as he resumed walking. “And I suppose if you must sneeze on someone, it’s best if it’s me, as I can’t very well catch this cold again. But all the more reason for me to see you to bed. You look a mess. In the loveliest possible way, of course.”

“How charming you are, Mr. Darcy. You have quite a way of flattering a woman.”

He chuckled again, but by this time they had reached his bedchamber. He deposited her on the bed with the utmost gentleness, and proceeded to assist her in changing into more comfortable clothes. She shivered miserably as she changed so that her teeth nearly chattered. Darcy tucked her in warmly and quickly rang for some tea, then began to remove his own boots and coat. She watched him curiously, though with heavy eyes, for she suddenly she found herself exhausted. With pleasure she realized he planned to join her in bed.

He did just that a few moments later, pulling her close against himself and wrapping her in his big, warm arms. She nuzzled in gratefully with a sniffle and a cough. He buried his face in her hair as they settled, coughing as well.

“What are you doing, Darcy dear? I thought you had many things to do today,” she mumbled, already nearing sleep. “You’ve had so many days off yourself. You needn’t take another for me, though it seems we’re quite a mess still.”

“This has become the most important thing I must do today,” he yawned. “You were a saint to look after me this whole week, so now I must return the favor. I’m not likely to let an opportunity pass to spend time with you after these past weeks, for I’ve learned my lesson. And I too am already weary, for this cold hasn’t quite left me. A nap would suit me fine, especially if I can warm you in the process.”

When a servant arrived with tea, no one greeted him, and when he opened the door with the tray, he found it best to simply leave it nearby and duck out again, for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were fast asleep.

#sickfic #Sickness #sicknario #snzfic #snzblr #snzario #everyone is hotter with a fever #especially fitz/william dar/cy

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bella-caecilia · 3 years

Note

Purple (my favorite color)

Thank you so much for prompting me! I had multiple ideas for the various symbols for purple but I went with the one that complemented the discussion Cobert had about Sybil in the last drabble. It’s set in series 3 episode 7 (so naturally, a bit sad but I tried to make it wholesome nevertheless). I hope you enjoy what I made of your prompt :) (Parts of the dialogue belong to JF)

Purple – Spirituality

The lightness of the day was only hesitantly accepted by the Crawley family. The Crawley family and the Bransons. Tom and little Sybbie. Well, and Tom’s brother but he was more present in the whole occurrence than the Crawleys wished for.

It was the day of the christening, and they had gone a long way to perform it this concordantly now. The baby was christened after the first period of mourning. The guests of the catholic event were allowed to wear colours. The men still wore their black suits, and Mama opted for her all-black attire as well. If she was mourning the confession that marked this whole event and claimed her only great-grandchild or really still the premature death of her youngest granddaughter though stayed a mystery.

Cora and her two daughters (it hurt so much to say it like that and Cora felt horrible every time she had to accept once again that for the world outside, she had only two children now) wore costumes of different shades of lilac. They were truly beautiful dresses and it was the first time since the horror of a night that had been little Sybbie’s birth that Cora had deliberately chosen something charming to wear. She felt good and she felt like she was allowed to (maybe even deserved to) feel good. Sybil would want her to enjoy the day of the christening of her baby’s baby. She would smile about the fact that it was like a déjà vu to Mary’s wedding. Cora had been wearing nearly the same lilac look back then (it had been made for Mary’s wedding), and Sybil would love her child’s christening to be an event just as joyful.

Even if the day was slightly tense due to the multitude of people’s believes and goals, and even if this tension was veiled with forced amicability, Cora was at ease. Most of all though, she sensed that she was more at peace with everyone and everything around her – with life and its cruel acts – than she had been for months. She was at peace for a simple fact that helped her fall asleep later that day as she realised it.

The family had been driven to the church in nearly complete silence. A few words were exchanged here and there, and they held more excited anticipation than Cora had hoped for. She had been utterly relieved first when Robert had accepted the circumstances for Sybbie’s christening without a bigger fuss, and second, when she had got him into the motor without a conflict between him and Mr Branson, Tom’s brother, ensuing until then. Everyone wanted today’s day to be a happy and successful day but one couldn’t be quite sure with the potential for conflict that smouldered within the heterogeneous group.

With her husband by her side, Cora looked forward to the ceremony itself. She knew it was what Sybil had wanted because it was what Tom wanted. So, Cora wanted to make sure things happened that way. She held onto Robert’s hand as the motor juddered over the gravel. He threw her a short glance before both directed their gazes out the car windows again. He looked a little strained. Cora knew it irritated him that he didn’t know what exactly they had to expect from the catholic christening ceremony, and even though, the entire event was no big deal for her she tried to understand what made it so hard for him. It wasn’t proper for an Earl’s granddaughter she knew. But she didn’t care for that enough to seriously waste her thoughts on that. She hoped, showing Robert how she was able to enjoy the day for her daughters’ and granddaughter’s sake would help him too. She covered their locked hands with her second one and gently rubbed his knuckles and the back of his hand. She turned around and searched his face for anything other than mere tension.

“I am very grateful that this day could be realised like this,” she said softly.

Robert furrowed his brow. “I don’t know if making Sybil’s daughter a catholic is the best start for her life we could give her,” he grumbled but without real conviction. He argued because it wasn’t fully his choice to set the day the way it was not because he really wanted to change something about it.

“You know that the best start for Sybbie’s life we could give her is a warm welcome into a loving family. With supporting her father, and even if this might be in first choices we don’t entirely agree with, we’re building the foundation for the love Sybil’s daughter deserves.” Cora’s vivid eyes had locked with his and their expression altered from imploring sincerity to soft fondness.

Robert squeezed his wife’s hand and his eyes swept over her face as he managed a tight-lipped smile. He then turned his gaze back outside.

“I just want it to be over already,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

The ceremony was even less of a deal than Cora had expected. Tom who mostly looked very strained and ruminative lately, and especially today, even had moments of blessed smiles. When Mary as the godmother got to hold the baby, Cora was at least as blissful as Tom. She thought Tom had made a good choice with Mary, and there had to be something about his brother Kieran that made him a reasonable choice as well.

Robert sat next to her, kneading his hands with an otherwise calm demeanour. It would be easier afterwards she silently agreed with him. Robert could see Sybbie just as Sybbie then, apart from everything that might separate grandfather and grandchild elsewise.

The moment they left the church they were greeted by inviting light weather. The guests of the christening were in a slightly more frolic mood, and chatter arose here and there before the photographer ordered them to get into place for the pictures that would be taken.

“If you could all form a group around the father,” the photographer said.

Mary, who had still been carrying the baby, handed Sybbie cautiously to Tom.

“Here she is,” Cora cooed. The little girl was really a delight, and Cora enjoyed that Mary took to the baby as well. She hadn’t been sure if it would be like that.

Mary, Cora, and Edith now stood at the side of the group next to each other. They must make quite the picture in their flowing lilac dresses.

“It seems so strange without Sybil here,” Edith mentioned in a light thoughtfulness.

Cora watched into the distance but she saw something else. Her daughters’ thoughts were wandering back to the present scenery meanwhile. Everyone was gathering more closely around Tom and the baby.

“She’s watching,” Cora said. “I know,” her words were spoken in calm certainty. Her eyes were glued to some point faraway. As if she had eye contact with Sybil standing behind the stone wall surrounding the church and its graveyard. Cora didn’t have to look out for her, and she wasn’t surprised to find her there. It was as if she had agreed upon it with Sybil beforehand. Sybil would be there, and Cora just reassured herself of that after Edith’s comment.

“I envy you. I wish I did,” Mary responded. Her voice was downcast, her tone little hopeful. Cora’s heart was warm with pictures from Sybil. She was vindicated in her faith that Sybil would still somehow guide the ways of her dearest ones. She looked over her daughter’s christening as she had an eye on all the moves of the family that needed a little more courage. The courage she always had. Sybil’s spirit wasn’t lost. She had provoked them to be better humans and her spirit that accompanied them would continue to do so.

A little part of Cora wished she had realised it before today. It maybe would have made things a bit easier to bear. It might have avoided how deep the rift between Robert and her had become. But they made it. And probably Cora would grieve just the same, no matter the circumstances. How much more bearable would a little more faith have made it truly? It was no use. What was left of Sybil was the little family she had left behind. Cora vowed once more that they had to cherish them. The little family and her blessed spirit.

When the picture was taken, Cora didn’t look at the camera. Her gaze was still set on that point afar. For a fleeting moment, after the flash had lit up, a light figure began wandering outside the wall of the cemetery. The purple coat and hat her dear daughter's figure was dressed in were exact copies of Cora’s own garments. With a smile, Sybil turned away from the church and slowly wandered into the distance on the path behind the wall. Her vision faded after a few seconds, a little bit later than the imprints of the camera flash on her retina. But Cora tried her best to imprint the last smile of her daughter on her mind for years to live off.

Cora’s days got easier with the christening, little by little. After having Robert back at her side, there was something else now that helped her immensely. Cuddling up beside her husband at night, she realised what it was. Her eyes fell shut with a small sentimental smile grazing her features.

She was at peace because her dear girl was with her.

Sybil was with her.

#cobert fanfiction #cobert drabble #cobert #cora crawley #robert crawley #s3 #s3e7 #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey

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lunewell · 3 years

Text

The Lunewell Saga - Natura: Ch 3

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2 here

Can also be read on ao3 (:

Book Sumary:

Zarifa Birch, an antique shop worker with an unusual past, has made a home for herself in the sleepy town of Lunewell. Though the shop she works at is not exactly ordinary, with cryptid items and odd occurrences, she has managed to carve the normal life she always desperately wished for out of it.

However, all that comes crumbling down, as a woman from Zarifa’s past throws everything into chaos. Faced with unimaginable horrors, seemingly unsolvable mysteries, and returning repressed feelings and memories, Zarifa along with her coworkers, must find a way to return the balance- and escape the cruel hands of death in this eldritch horror mystery

As always, he had not been himself in the night. He had been an old man, holding a rather nice-smelling bag, walking through the forest towards… something. Something he cared about.

His thoughts were not quite his own, but not the man's either; more a drowsy sort of mish-mash of voices, a bit like falling asleep in the middle of a bustling city. However, none of it really mattered, as he very much felt, smelled, and lived in the forest, above the crunchy leaves and around the warm scent. So hard to place. It was familiar, and yet, the exact detail of it had faded out.

He could hear his own voice, humming. It did not sound like his voice, not really, but it felt like his own, and that was enough for it to be his own. The vibrations travelled through his chest as he burst out in melodic sounds. He was humming a workers’ song, one that someone in his family had sung. Again, the details were blurry, like there was a block in his brain.

The forest was calm, basking in a sunny glow. Autumn leaves decked the ground, and the trees looked familiar. There was a comfort in this place, a home in the scent of mud and moss, and one that he cherished happily.

The trees, though originally quiet to his senses, rustled softly in a pleasant way. The wind must’ve been extra strong, he must’ve just not noticed it through the thick shield of stems.

The trees rustled once more, and felt a beat against the soles of his feet. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it got him to tilt his stiff, aged, neck downwards, if even just for a second.

It was then that it truly happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the trees curving, but he didn’t have any time to process as he was slammed down to the ground by a vine sprouting from the ground. A crack wrecked through his body, not unlike the sound a carrot makes when snapping, and he, in what simultaneously was and wasn’t his voice, howled in pain. His leg, already weak to begin with, felt as though it had been ripped in two, and he could clearly see red blood leaking from where the knee was bent at an unnatural angle. Fire coursed through his nerves, burning from his leg to his spine. The pain was so mind-numbing that he didn’t notice the much pointier vine heading right for him until it was too late.

As though it was sentient, a throned vine plunged at him, and punctured right into his stomach. It sliced all the way through him, as though his body was not but soft butter, before pulling out in an equally swift motion and landing him limp on the ground.

There was no pain, even as thorns began to wrap around and puncture every millimeter of skin, only numbness. Numbness from pain that could not be described in the English language. Numbness that no one alive had ever felt. Numbness that acted as a relenting defeat against his continuous fight for any hope of life.

And as he lay there, hands bloodstained, stomach gaping, and so incredibly empty, he feared. Feared for his wife, feared for his unachieved goals, feared for what was coming next. Even this fear, however, held a tragic sort of air to it, as it was dulled down by unrelenting numbness.

The numbness faded, along with all thoughts, as white, hot, pain came crashing down like a hammer. He let out one last pitiful, agony filled screech - for a scream was much too human to cover the sound - muffled by the thorns that had stuck themselves into his lips, before everything went black in what was truly the kindest mercy. ————————————————

Bruin awoke with a gasp, clutching his stomach. His eyes darted around his barren room, pulse racing at an olympic level under his skin. With a weak breath - still clutching his stomach with an iron grip - he closed his eyes, and repeated his mantra; You’re Bruin Becker, you’re not them, you’re safe.

The phrase played over and over again in his mind as his vision slowly morphed from a blur of panic, to the usual, groggy morning one. Taking a more stable breath, he slowly let go of his stomach. He couldn’t resist scanning his hands for blood, though he knew there was none.

Once he was sure his hands were clean, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and watched the world come to life. The white desk and closet popped from the midnight blue walls, the sheets on his bed clear as glass. He glanced at his face in the mirror, and was not surprised at what he saw; deep, dark bags under his slender eyes, porcupine-like hair, and a thin sheet of sweat that lined his forehead.

He collapsed back into his bed with a tired sigh, wanting nothing more than to ignore the clock that was taunting him with the ridiculous hour he had awoken. He would probably do that. Go back to blissful sleep, that is. He doubted he even had gotten an ounce of it because of his stupid… nightmares? Visions? Whatever they were.

He closed his eyes, relaxing back into his bed, mind so far gone and forgetting one quintessentially, very, important thing. A thing he was oh-so-kindly reminded of by what could have only been described as the sound of every single plate in the house shattering at once.

With an almost inhuman speed, Bruin threw the cover from his bed, and darted to the room next door. He adjusted his hair along the way in a frantic motion, pulse having quickened yet again at the commotion. He braked as he reached the kitchen doorway, looking at the source of the sound.

On the grey tiles sat a dazed Grant, covered head to toe in flour, shards of ceramic plates scattered around him like a bomb had just gone off. Grant looked sheepishly at Bruin, blue eyes just as bagged as his own. “Uhh… good morning?”

Bruin couldn’t help the look of absolute disappointment that rolled over his face. “How did you manage to - never mind. I don’t want to know,” he said, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, if you must know,” Grant began, ignoring Bruin’s statement, “I was trying to make pancakes. Keyword there being trying.” He got up and tried dusting off the flour powdered on him like snow, but gave up almost immediately. “It was a shame really. I make lovely pancakes. It’s the only good thing about living with me, according to my dearest exes.”

“I’m surprised they listed any good things about living with you,” Bruin mumbled, before joining Grant to pick up the last pieces of the plates.

Though he would never admit it, Grant had been a blessing in disguise. When he first rented the little cottage in Lunewell, he had accepted that his co-worker would be an annoying, messy, music-box obsessed pest in the house that he would hopefully have to deal with as little as humanly possible.

Yet, almost like a mold, he had to admit that Grant had grown on him. Sure, he still couldn’t stand the messiness, and he swore that every time he turned a corner he saw another damn music-box, but those were things he had learned to forgive over the years.

“What possessed you to make pancakes?” Bruin questioned as they threw the last pieces in the trash.

Grant quieted, biting his lip.“They’re great comfort food,” he said slowly, as if testing out the words.

Bruin tensed, suddenly hyper aware of the rumbling in his stomach. “Oh,” he said quietly, after minutes of silence, “did you have a bad night’s sleep?” The question was pointless, but Bruin felt the need to ask it anyway. If only to take away from the barking that had begun playing in his ears.

“Yeah,” Grant responded, eyeing him, “I was up working on fixing an antique box, planning to go to bed, but I think someone was begging for their life outside, which wasn’t a very nice sound to fall asleep too.”

It was an invitation, one which he pondered for a while, before finally giving his response; “I wouldn't imagine so, no.”

He looked away as Grant's ocean blue eyes filled with pity, something that hurt him as much as any gun wound. “Hey, I… uh,” Grant began, no longer looking at him, “don’t feel obligated to answer this, but, are they getting worse?”

“You should probably go and get changed. I’ll make some breakfast for us. We still have a while before work.”

Grant, bless his heart, didn’t push. Instead, he simply nodded, vanishing the sad look from his eyes. He was halfway out the door, when he turned around with a snap; “that’s what I was forgetting to tell you!” he said, “Zarifa called earlier, she wants us to come in early.”

“Really? That’s unusual.”

“My thoughts exactly. I didn’t ever find out why though, she remained all vague. Sounded a bit panicked, if I’m honest.”

Bruin nodded. “We’ll head out after you and I get changed then. I’m not really in the mood for breakfast anyway.”

“Aye aye, Bruiny,” Grant said with a mock salute, before slipping out the door and presumably into his bedroom. Bruin did the same, taking one last glance around the rustic kitchen before walking towards his own room with a newfound haste. Zarifa had always been more than lenient with the times they showed and left work, especially once she realised both Grant and Bruin had abysmal sleep quality and patterns, so something like this was not only highly unusual, but equally concerning.

He just hoped nothing too terrible had happened. ——————————————

The walk to the Office was a beautiful one, especially this time of year. They were both bundled in hats and scarves that Grant had insisted on, as golden yellows and flaming hues passed and fell around them. For all the flack they could both give Lunewell - a lack of internet service, isolation from almost everything, and navigational systems that were seemingly built by a sadist - neither could deny that living there on mornings like this was truly a magical experience.

Or would be, were it not for the unfortunate scenario.

“Oh I hope she’s alright,” Grant panted out, slightly out of breath from the speedwalking that bordered on jogging. Working in antiques was unfortunately not a field that kept one in great physical condition, and in moments like this it truly showed.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruin reassured, “thinking logically, we know nothing serious has happened,” probably, “so it’s most likely something mundane, slightly ominous at best.”

Grant looked unsure at that, but didn’t say anything. Under the glasses, Bruin could practically see the well-oiled cogs turning in his head, eyes glaze as though lost in the mechanical world. It was his typical zoning out look, which was for once highly appreciated, as Bruin himself was in no mood to talk.

They walked up the path, letting the old, wooden store come into view. It seemed no different than yesterday, albeit much darker, except for, alarmingly enough, a room in the upstairs flat. They shared a questioning look, panic visible on both their faces, before speeding up and half-sprinting to the door.

With a lead ball in his stomach, Bruin realised that the door was not only unlocked, but stood slightly ajar. He shoved it further open, with an urgency but still lightly, as not to break any antiques.

Even the golden rays of autumn sun couldn’t hide the ruins of the shop. The furniture was at a slight angle, as though a lash had come whipping at the legs, the fragile glass and ceramics that had been close to shattering finally lay dead and dismembered on the floor, and most concerningly, there was an unidentifiable black liquid smelling vaguely of ozone.

“Zarifa?” Grant began calling, stepping over the mess with all the grace of a drunk octopus, “Zari? Boss? Are you in there?” Bruin followed his shouting companion, straightening the furniture as he went. They made it to the counter, still no sight of her, though that was changed as they heard a thunderclap of a sound emitting from the backroom.

They were in the employees’ lounge within seconds of the sound, greeted by the sight of an unusually casually dressed Zarifa surrounded by long walls of antiques, stacked in an organised manner. “Oh good,” she said, upon seeing them, giving them a warm smile that reached her tired eyes, “you made it.”

Bruin wasn’t so much looking at her, as staring at the large pile of antiques behind her. Some of them he recognised, like the ‘Girl in Field’ painting, or that odd statue of an old man made of clay, 200 years old, but painted in a cornflower blue pigment that could be no more than 100, though there were also surprisingly a lot of pieces he had no recollection of seeing. Zarifa, noticing his staring, looked at him apologetically; “Sorry I had to dismantle your system. I tried to keep the organisation, and I promise I’ll help sort it afterwards.”

“It’s fine. I’ll sort it myself,” he assured, not quite sure he truly trusted anyone to touch what he had sorted. Grant was a disaster on legs, and for as much as Zarifa was good at keeping schedule, she lacked the sheer efficient sorting instinct he had had since childhood. “Why is it all up here? Was there water in the basement again?”

Zarifa shook her head, before pulling a slightly splintered, old, wooden box with a golden, dust-painted leaf-engraving on top from behind one of the piles. Bruin’s eyes widened as he remembered where it had previously been, involuntarily glancing upstairs, and then back down to Zarifa. She hadn’t really… had she? No one had ever been in Valours flat, hell, no one even had the key to it.

She opened the lid cautiously, the box creaking as ancient and rusted hinges pulled back. She pulled out aged, folded paper, and slowly laid it down in Bruins hands. Though he would of course properly examine it later, he could tell it was far older than anything he was comfortable holding with his bare, gloveless hands. “It’s more sturdy than it looks,” comforted Zarifa, upon seeing his panicky stature, “go ahead, open it up.”

With a force comparable to a feather, he opened it in precise, calculated movements. He winced as he saw the handwriting, the fine, thin squiggles dating the paper to 300 years old at least, letting go of the note to the point it was barely still in his hands. He felt Grant peeking over his shoulder, and down onto the note curiously, mumbling the words as he read down the torn page.

It wasn’t a very long read, but it added tenfold to the confusion. “What seal?” Grant eventually asked, looking up at Zarifa, “this is the page blonde-pink-girl wanted, right? Why would anyone want this?”

Zaria sighed, looking at the paper with a darkness in her eyes. She looked contemplative, opening her mouth a few times to begin a sentence, before shaking her head and going back to thought. Finally, after tracing the golden part of the box a few rounds, silence echoing the room, she spoke; “We’ve all had encounters with Them before, right?”

Even with that single word, everyone in the room instantly Knew what she was talking about. It was Them that had drawn the entire group to the shop, Them that had left that hollowness that lived in all their eyes, Them that left all of them flinching at sounds and throwing hurried glances over shoulders, and most importantly, Them that created the bond they all shared.

Zarifa signed; “Take a seat, boys. This might require a bit of an explanation.”

—————- After a long, long conversation, involving the raiding of Valour’s alcohol stash for some well earned drinking, along with expensive chocolates for an alcohol-abstaining Bruin, all had finally been explained. There was a silence in the air, tinged in cheap wine and dread, as they all looked intently at the ornate box. “So,” Grant said, clasping his hands ripping away the silence like a band-aid, “we’re dealing with a big orb, monster thingy, which intentions are unknown, who kidnapped our intruder who was reading text that made vines sprout around her and smoke fill her eyes.”

“Yeah, that sums up what I experienced this morning nicely.”

Grant blinked, Bruin hurrying his mouth which had been firmly hidden deeper in his palm. “Fucking hell, I need another drink,” Grant exclaimed with a groan, reaching his hand out with his designated office mug towards Bruin.

“You guys are all out,” Bruin said with a tired voice, “besides, I don’t think alcohol is the wisest right now. I think we should try to figure out what actually happened.”

“Good idea,” Zarifa said with a nod, “we can begin with the note. Funnily enough, it’s the easiest thing here to deconstruct.” She took the box and gave it one last glance over, before rotating it away from herself and giving Grant and Bruin the opportunity to see it; “Obviously the seal is referring to the monster. I think it’s just a matter of gathering the ingredients, and whatever happened, will be reversed.”

Bruin, more than prepared, had already pulled out his black notebook and found an empty page. He looked once again at the section of the note containing the ingredients:

A key is forged by fragments of Touched sanity eating a sight of one that Sees, dipped in water oh-so divine. Once the key has begun, the fragments must sew themselves between the fabric, letting all webbed light shine on them. As they are blessed by the minute, and after the final step of-

And out of the nonsense, quickly jotted down the list of ideas that had been proposed by a slightly tipsy Grant, and an unusually frantic Zarifa;

Fragmented Touched sanity (Magic mind? Pieces of brain?) Sight of one that Sees (Some creature’s eyes obviously, maybe cow eye cult? (Most likely, Grant’s paranoia over cow eye cult, and not actually cow eye cult)) Water divine (Holy water?) Webbed light (Interconnected grids of light? Light systems?)

Jotting them down like that, was sadly, not very revealing. Partly because all their minds were still reeling, and what they had brainstormed was mostly a series of disjointed thoughts rather than a narrative, and partly because there was still so much hidden at the bottom of the riddle ocean. Bruin could still hardly find himself believing Zarifa’s situation, and had it not been for the black liquid stains he saw himself, the cryptic note, and the wobbly tone of her words as she recounted the events, he probably would have dismissed her as being driven a bit mad by paranoia.

Even now, fully aware of the fact that it was real, he was incredibly tempted to just storm out the shop, notebook in hand. Though he encountered the unearthly almost every time he was in deep slumber, he had never actually had a fully conscious encounter. And those… nightmares, visions - whatever they could be called - had left him gluing the pieces of his mind with only the instinct of survival. A real encounter would break him.

And yet, he couldn’t run. He had nowhere to go. Thorns Antique wasn’t so much a place he had chosen to stay, as a shelter he had desperately thrown himself into. Physically, yes of course he could travel or move. Marcus had been asking him if they could move in together for months, and would be more than elated to take him in. And he was sure he could put that business degree to good use.

But, though he was physically free as a dove, his mental wings were clipped. What was he supposed to do when he inevitably woke up one night in Marcus’s bed, screaming about the knife that he was convinced was lodged in his brain? How would he explain the countless of cryptic, weird, objects littered between pages upon pages of ripped-out death notices? Markus would see him as insane, and any future job he would have wouldn’t tolerate his hazy, obsessive, jumpy, and sleep-deprived state.

Though he did not personally know what their stories really were, he suspected Zarifa and Grant were stranded on the same boat of forbidden knowledge. Zarifa had no interest in history, having a passion for literature instead, and a people-pleasing nature and work ethic that could get her far, and Grant, though a bit of a clumsy idiot, was also incredibly academically bright, and a true cityguy at heart. They were an odd group, but a strongly connected one.

Or, at least somewhat connected.

“I propose we figure out what to do now,” Bruin muttered, after reading the bullet points a couple of times, “I don’t think there’s a standard protocol for situations such as these.”

Zarifa hummed in agreement, leaning against the table with a pensive look, sipping on some more wine. “I think we should prioritise figuring out what the riddle is actually saying,” she said, “and I think most of the answers lay here. There must be some connections between all this supernatural weirdness, and I’m pretty sure it lies in the antiques.”

Bruin and Grant nodded, both pulling the wildly uncomfortable chairs close to the table in a loud, squeaking drag. “As for the stuff that we can’t find the answer to,” Zarifa continued, once everyone was seated, “we can always ask for that.” She turned to Grant; “You’ve called Valour, right?”

Grant blinked, the words taking a few seconds to register, before grimacing sheepishly. “I’ll go do that afterwards, promise.” Bruin sighed, but Zarifa simply nodded. She’d always been a lot more forgiving of his scatterbrain than Bruin.

“I’ll do the same with Lottie. Assuming she’s, well, alive. She probably won’t answer, but it's worth a shot.”

“Thought Lottie didn’t give us her number?” Grant said, Bruin mirroring his confusion. Zarifa stiffened, smile dropping by a minuscule amount.

“She didn’t, but I know how to get in contact with her,” she stated, in her best assertive tone. Before Bruin could ask what she meant by that, she powered on, bulldozing in a purposeful manner. “What about you, Bruin?”

Bruin racked his mind for a good answer, recalling what needed to be done, and all the archival systems they had buried in the husk of a computer. “Every item has a corresponding ID, and a short descriptor. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at both the system and the antiques . However, we’re all out of gloves, and our magnifying glass has been broken for two months, so I’ll head to the shop first.”

While this was completely true, Bruin did leave out the little detail that it was also beyond time to see Marcus again. Through a mix of nightly hauntings, and antique mishaps, the days had somehow slipped by without them having a proper chat. He didn’t so much mind the lack of interaction, as the guilt that came with it.

“Thank you,” Zarifa said with a smile, “and, if it isn’t too much of a bother, please keep an eye out for any… unusual sights.” He nodded, her shoulders slumping down visibly, even under the thick cream turtleneck. Grant then promptly slipped out of the room to give Valour a ring with his smashed phone, and Zarifa headed out the front door and into the shop to tidy what was left of the mess, leaving him all alone.

He buried his hands into his neatly combed hair, tension deflating like a balloon as he exhaled heavily. His head was being squeezed by a thick rubber band, though whether it was the usual sleep deprivation or stress was anyone’s guess, and his eyes were droopy and heavy, as if magnets were attempting to pull them closed.

Nevertheless, he got up, pulling his winter coat and messenger bag off the chair. He left the scarf and hat where they lay, feeling they were a bit over the top considering it was only October. Slipping the black notebook into the black and purple bag, he headed out the door, and towards the outside world, heading in a general life direction he was not fully comfortable with.

#The Lunewell Saga - Natura #the lunewell saga #natura #writing #wip excerpt #original writing #writing wip

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emsvegetables · 4 years

Text

“Can I pls request hcs with semi, shirabu, tendou and futakuchi where they walk in on their s/o being bullied? I’m sorry if you don’t feel comfortable writing this, I love your writing btw ❤️”

AWW!!!! thank you anon!!! <3!!!! ofc i’ll do it!!! ALSO LAALLALAAL JUST SAYING I LOVE FUTAKUCHI LALALALALA

Semi:

* tbh Semi’s a very patient guy.

* like??? absolute patience. this man has attained the highest level of patience.

* but when he walks pass a stairway, and he hears someone spewing rude shit at another person??? he’s pissed.

* like ????? wtf????

* he can’t stand bullies, so he’s heading down to talk to that ass.

* but when he sees who’s getting bullied???

* lmao you bet that mf going to die.

* “what’s going on?”

* he’s asking, and he’s looking at the guy with the COLDEST glare on his face.

* this is the first time you’ve seen Semi this angry.

* then he’s walking forward, and pulling you behind him, and he’s folding his arms.

* “what’s going on here?” he’s asking again, and that mf BETTER reply.

* “nothing, man,” the guy says coolly, and that’s when Semi actually feels like MURDERING someone.

* “then what the hell did you say to (Y/N) just now?”

* and when the guy walks away???? oh boy Semi’s PISSED OFF.

* anyway you have to hold Semi back from running after the guy to scold him, and when he looks at you, he’s instantly making sure you’re not hurt, and asks if you’re alright.

* when he’s checked to see if you have any injuries, he’s asking you if this has happened before.

* when you nod, he’s frowning at you, but he pulls you into a hug and presses a kiss onto your forehead and reassures you that he won’t let that happen to you again.

* LOL he’s telling Tendou and Ushijima what happened.

* anyway the guy comes up to apologise to you the next day, and he’s looking around, with a terrified expression on his face, as if waiting for someone to hit him.

* you accept his apology, and you never find out why he apologised LOL

* bonus:

* “(Y/N), are you alright?”

* “oh, i’m fine, Ushijima-san! why?”

* “that guy won’t bother you again.”

* “eh??????”

Shirabu:

* okay.

* Shirabu is usually a very calm guy.

* the only thing that can get him worked up is GOSHIKI, and if anyone hurts you.

* then they have to deal with him.

* anyway, he probably finds out when Tendou sends him to the club room to take some vests for the team to play, and as he runs to the club room, he sees you.

* you look defiant, but your eyes have tears welling up in them, and he realises that the guy standing in front of you was definitely not complimenting you.

* so he’s storming over, before he’s calmly asking,” who’s this, (Y/N)?”

* he’s making sure to step in front of you, to shield you from that bastard who dared to bully you, and he’s staring him down.

* “what were you saying to her?” he’s asking the guy, and his voice is ice-cold, and so is his stare.

* when the guy merely shrugs it off, Shirabu sighs.

* THEN HE PUNCHES HIM.

* YOU DID NOT EXPECT THAT.

* anyway, it happens so fast that Shirabu’s hands are dropping down to his side in a flash.

* almost as if nothing happened.

* THEN THE GUY RUNS LOL

* afterwards, Shirabu’s pulling you into a tight hug, and patting you on the back lightly.

* “are you alright?” he’s asking you gently, and he pulls back to see if you’ve been hurt anywhere.

* when you nod your head, he smiles slightly at you, and presses a kiss to your cheek before jogging away bc he’s LATE.

* anyway your bully comes to school the next day with a black eye LOL

* you didn’t know Shirabu had it in him LMAO

* bonus:

* “hey, (Y/N), did you know Shirabu was missing from practice for like ten minutes yesterday?”

* “oh, no, Tendou-san, why?”

* “i don’t know—he came back with bruised knuckles, though—“

Tendou:

* LMAO MY CRACKHEAD BABY

* he pulls the most craziest shit ever.

* but the shit that he’ll pull for YOU??? out of this world baby

* so he’s walking around with Ushijima during lunch, and when he turns around the corner and overhears someone being talked down to.

* he’s like ??????? who tf messing around here??????

* anyway bc he’s a nice guy, he’s going to stop in to help.

* so he’s stepping into that stairway with Ushijima, and he’s friendly smile instantly wipes off his face when he sees you.

* the idiot still doesn’t notice the two looming figures above him.

* lmao idiot!!!

* anyway

* “what are you doing to my dearest (Y/N)?”

* his smile is back on his face!!! but it isn’t his friendly smile LOLOLOL

* it’s his: I AM GOING TO RIP YOUR INSIDES OUT smile.

* when the guy merely sneers and rolls his eyes, Tendou smiles even wider.

* “hey, Ushijima?”

* “yes, Tendou?”

* “don’t hold me back.”

* so Tendou’s LUNGING at the guy, and attacking him LMAOOOOOO

* anyway YOU have to pull him off, and Ushijima is standing there, blinking, because Tendou told him not to hold Tendou back, so he’s listening.

* AHAHA ANYWAYS

* Tendou makes the guy apologise to you, and when he finally does that, the guy quickly runs away.

* then Tendou’s looking at you and pressing his hands on your cheeks.

* “you okay?”

* when you nod, he’s squishes your cheeks and nods happily at you.

* “you tell me when someone bothers you again, okay?”

* bonus:

* “Ushijima-san! why didn’t you help me stop Tendou?”

* “because Tendou told me not to hold him back.”

* “HUH? so you LISTENED to him?”

* “was i not supposed to?”

Futakuchi:

* OMG I LOVE FUTAKUCHI PLS REQ MORE OF HIM IM BEGGING YOU

* N E WAYSSSS

* Futakuchi has no chill, lol.

* he’s so snarky!!! and sarcastic!!!! he literally pisses his seniors off????

* but he’s so sweet to you.

* and he’ll do anything for you if you call him “hon”.

* so he’s casually walking around with Aone during lunch, when he passes by a staircase.

* then they hear some muffled voices, and a very clear degrading name get said out.

* Aone, bless him, moves forward to see more, bc he will not let anyone get bullied under his watch!!!

* tbh Futakuchi could not care less AHAHAH

* but for some reason he had this weird feeling in his heart??? so he decided to follow Aone.

* anyway the weird feeling in his heart intensifies when he realises the degrading name was directed at YOU.

* so he’s striding forward, and he’s FUMING.

* he’s normally very pissy on a daily basis, but this is the first time you’ve seen him TRULY angry.

* “what the fuck are you doing?”

* he instantly reaches your side within two seconds and he’s making sure you’re behind him and he’s looking down on the dude.

* “can’t you hear me? i asked, what the fuck are you doing?”

* he’s asking again, and he’s SO PISSED OFF.

* and when the guy rolls his eyes, you see Futakuchi clench his fist.

* “do you have some problem with your eye? i would love to fix it for you.”

* he’s moving forward, and you’re too slow to stop him, and when his arm flies up, it lands on Aone’s chest.

* “leave, now.”

* Aone opened his mouth!!!!!!!

* with Date Tech’s iron wall staring at that little shit, do you think he’ll run away??

* anyway your bully runs away.

* Futakuchi’s instantly bending down to your eye level and looking at you.

* “he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

* he’s making sure you’re fine, and his arms are gently reaching for yours.

* he’s so soft for you tbh

* and when he makes sure you’re fine, he sighs and swoops down to press a quick kiss onto your lips.

* “i’ll make sure that guy won’t do anything to you ever again.”

* “NO don’t Kenji!!!!”

* bonus:

* “hey babe, did that guy apologise to you yet?”

* “huh, no he didn’t, why?”

* “oh wtf that little shit guess one beating wasn’t enough for him huh????”

* “i thought you said you wouldn’t do anything to him???????”

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT FKRKFKFK

REQUESTS ARE OPENED!!!!

ps . i simp for Futakuchi. ;) ;)!!!!

#semi x reader #futakuchi x reader #shirabu x reader #tendou x reader #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #semi eita x reader #futakuchi kenji x reader #shirabu kenjirou x reader #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu hc #haikyuu headcanon

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