#i am so GRATEFUL and HONORED to be recognized for my deep love for this movie 🫶

[lumiereandcogsworth]

Two things. First your fics has contributed to the BATB brainrot I gained after watching it on Disney + lmaooo. Second, I love how you constantly bring attention to how much Adam and Maurice support/love Belle. Adam wanting to give the world to his darling Belle after everything she's done for him and the castle staff. Maurice loving his free-spirited daughter unconditionally and always thinking about her dreams and happiness even if it puts him in harm's way with people like Gaston during the forest and mob scene. She's a one of a kind lady and they both know it. (PS. I'm a sucker for good fathers in media and Maurice is a top two Disney dad and he ain't number two 😭) .

AAHHHH THANK YOU !!!!!!!!!!! what an honor. i appreciate this so so so much 🥺🥺🥺🥺 AND YES EXACTLY!!!! belle is THE best girlie in the world and her papa and her true love could not be More Aware of how lucky they are. they love their beautiful dreamer!!! 🥹🥹💙💙💙💙

and yeah maurice is the BEST. i’ve been losing my mind all day thinking about how much that man loves his family 🤧🤧

[canyouhearthelight]

Chapter 18: Social Engineering

Lights, Camera, Action! Lash and Nils go public and dare people to call their bluff. The interview goes slightly off the rails, with good reason.

@baelpenrose, as co-author and beta reader for this chapter, did a great job making sure the reporters were as 'paparazzi' as possible.

I can fake a smile

I can force a laugh

I can dance and play the part

If that's what you ask

Give you all I am

Christina Perri, “Only Human”

Lash

By the time Lucas had returned to the hospital, Mori had pulled herself together and was in full combat general mode.  Neither Nils nor I had clued her in to our plan regarding shaming the hospital into covering the cost of care for everyone involved in the fire, and I was grateful that he hadn’t mentioned it in front of her.  With her focused on our parents’ care and haranguing doctors and nurses for updates, I could focus on dealing with the reporters who were already descending on the hospital.

Nils was hovering next to me, his hand close to mine. “Important to ask because a whole lot of people are going to ask unimportant shit and we need to be on the same page to avoid idiot drama that will deflect from our goal: we’re a couple or just good friends? It doesn’t matter what our answer is as long as it’s the same one.” He took a breath. “If you don’t have the emotional bandwidth for that, easy way out is ‘we stick to whatever bullshit they feed us until the cameras go away and something else dominates the news cycle’.” 

I thought it about for a brief moment. “We’re going to be doing a lot of lying, let’s have one less to keep track of. Stick to the truth: we’re friends who recently went on our first date and you were meeting my parents when everything went down.  If someone sticks a camera in my parents’ faces later down the road, they won’t have to think to confirm that.”

He nodded. “That works well enough. Okay, so to clarify our story: The hospital admins - someone even I, with all my familiarity with the hospital staff don’t know by sight - offered this to the people injured in this crisis as a one-time matter because they recognize the extraordinary circumstances involved. They recognize the crisis in the community and have risen to the occasion. We can say some nice things about the doctors that let them share the glory the local news is going to be throwing at us because hey, local news loves a hero. Hospital will be really reluctant to give it back if they can trade for political favors later.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to hear you say nice things about your father.  On camera, where everyone can see it,” I teased, trying to bleed off some of my anxiety.  Truth be told, any anonymity I had up until now was about to be blasted out the window when we spoke to these reporters.  And I would have to use my real name, or my online persona was toast.

The thought immediately made my heart sink, tears prickling my eyes. Toast. The burned out cafe, all those lives wasted… and for what? Because some hateful asshole thought he had the right to - 

I didn’t even realize I was speaking out loud until Nils bumped me with his shoulder. “Hey. I’m not going to tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t. But right now, we can honor the dead by taking care of the living. So let’s focus, okay? We can figure out whoever did this and get it back in blood later.” He offered me his hand. “For right now though, let’s go get some debts waived.” 

He gave a very subtle gesture towards the window, where to my horror, I could already see news vans outside, prevented from accessing the building. Vultures. I took a deep breath, took his hand, and squeezed it. “We look like burn victims, right?” When he nodded, I nodded back. “Then let’s do this before someone stops us.”

The moment we stepped outside the door, hospital wristbands conspicuously visible, we were swarmed.  I played up my shock by turning slightly into Nils, shielding my eyes. Four microphones were shoved in our faces, a female voice demanding “Were you at the fire earlier this evening?”

“Yes,” I answered. “We were inside with my parents when the fire was started.”

“Are you saying the fire was deliberate?” came a male voice from behind the blinding lights on the cameras.

“Absolutely. Someone blocked the exits and threw a burning bottle of something into the cafe.”

Nils took over at that point. “Molotov cocktails. The cafe had been the victim of several attempted arsons prior to this, according to the late owner, Ahmet Yildiz, who had, by the time this last fire claimed his life, given up on getting a proper investigation. He died attempting to help evacuate his customers and community.” His voice was clear, cold, and his words managed to bring across institutional neglect without actually blaming anyone of importance.  “He wasn’t the only one.”

“We were lucky,” I choked out through a lump in my throat. “We have minor burns and some smoke inhalation, but right now my parents and many others are in surgery or the ICU.  One is in the PICU.” As that last part sank in, some of the reporters and camera people around us gasped. “And we are all the lucky ones. At least three people never made it out, and we don’t know if everyone else is going to make it.”

A burst of chatter from the back of the reporters, then one of the men in the front asked a question I’d been dreading. “Can I get you two to identify yourselves?”

“My name is Elakshi Botelho. My parents, Sahar and Lorso Botelho, are still undergoing tests and treatment.”

“And mine is Nils Andover. My father is one of the doctors in the hospital, and my mother works as a lawyer.”

“We’ve heard both of your names from other witnesses at the scene, several of whom credit the two of you with a bulk of the rescues, what exactly happened during the evacuation?” Nils’ eyes flicked towards me. 

I gave the tiniest of nods and took a deep breath. “The only exit was on fire. Nils was able to open one of the metal gates over the other exits.  He, my father, and Uncle - Mr. Yildiz helped carry people out while my mother and I wrapped everyone in whatever cloths we could wet to keep them from getting burned or inhaling smoke.  Nils and my father managed to get me and my mother out just before the cafe exploded.”  My voice was trembling towards the end, and I let the tears just roll down my cheeks. I was too tired to fight them, and it probably helped our cause anyway.

“Have you spoken with authorities about the attack?” the first woman asked.

“With all due respect, I have been more concerned about my family and my community,” I responded. “We plan to speak to authorities when they reach out.”

Nils gave my hand a small pump, as though communicating silently that I’d said the perfect thing, then responded to the next question. “What went through both your heads when the fire went up?”

“Need to exit, wait, the exit is on fire, hey the windows, wait, the windows are blocked and they’re hot, oh wait, I have a leather jacket that can protect my hands while I open them.” Nils managed to drag his normal sarcasm with a trace of entirely uncharacteristic humility as though that was a chain of thoughts that would have occurred to a normal person to describe it all so dismissively. “Following that, ‘hey, leather jackets are fire resistant, I should probably help get people out,’ and somewhere in there is ‘thank God everyone here is sane, compassionate, and also helping’.” 

He took a breath. “Genuinely though, it’s amazing how much everyone came together in the fire, her dad, the cafe owner, her, her mom, everyone just kinda went for it and tried to help as much as possible, evacuate people as fast as possible, tried to help medic as much as possible. The hospital’s risen to the occasion too, in the face of all this: they said they were going to take care of the victims of this attack without charge, and they’ve been giving the victims amazing care.” 

The reporters went wild when Nils dropped that bit of ‘news’ on them. One managed to shout above the others a question about whether Nils’ family connection to the hospital had anything to do with that decision. “Both our fathers work for the hospital,” I confirmed when I felt him jerk like he’d been shot. “But the hospital has very much made this decision out of recognition for what can only be called a heinous act of terror committed against a small community.”

“Is it appropriate for you two to apply terrorism charges to an unknown…”

Nils’ voice cut across the question, coldly. “We just walked out of a building that exploded - killing at least three people - because a bunch of people set it on fire because they didn’t like that the owner was from the Middle East, after the building had been graffitied, repeatedly, with anti-Arab racial slurs. Terrorism is ‘violence committed against civilians for political reasons’ - what the FUCK would you call this if not that?” 

I noticed that Nils left out the ‘by nonstate actors’ part from the definition of ‘terrorism.’ Regardless, murmurs rippled through the crowd.  The point had been gotten across and given them something to chew on for local reports.  The first reporter to recover decided to pursue that point. “Is there anything you would like to say to the people who are responsible for the fire?”

By this point, I was shaking with emotion and dying to go back inside and sit down in a quiet place, see my parents breathing. “You burned down a popular shop full of customers who were minding their own business. There are women dying upstairs for drinking tea and gossiping about their grandchildren.  My cousin, Imran, is dead because he was picking up pastries for his wife and daughters.  My parents are severely injured because they were there to meet the young man I had just gone on a first date with. You attacked people for being people and having lives.  You are a coward, and I hope you have every day you deserve for the rest of your life.”  In that moment, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I spun, pulling my hand free from Nils’ and storming back into the hospital.

I heard Nils answer one more question in a capacity that barely managed to conceal impatience verging on contempt - though that might have been my familiarity with him, the reporters seemed charmed - before I heard him rushing after me. 

“I think we did it, Lash. You alright?”

Brushing tears from my cheeks, I laughed bitterly. “I am the furthest thing from alright. I want to see Mama and Baba, and I want Baba’s beard to scratch my cheek when he hugs me, even though I know his face is burned and his beard is gone. I want Mama to be nosy and pat my cheek and her bracelets clatter and her rings to bump my cheekbone like they do.  I want Mori to be here to visit, not to help make sure my parents are going to survive.  I want to go get coffee and have Uncle wink at me when he sneaks me extra baklava, and I can’t have any of it.”  Without even thinking, I turned and buried my face in his chest, charred leather smell be damned.

“We’ll stay here for them, okay? We’ll be the first thing they see when they wake up. Promise. Your mom isn’t going to be long - it’ll be longer for your dad. But your mom should be coming out within an hour or two at this point.” Nils hugged me then, as though on impulse. His chin fit exactly on top of my head, and he was patient enough to let me ugly cry on him until all I was left with were sniffles and hiccups.

He said nothing about what I must look like after all that, only steadying me. “I think you need your sister right now. Let’s go find her.  She reminds me of your mom, so she probably knows exactly what to do.”

[reivrze]

🏆award for the most inspirational moot goes tooooo: Hazyyu

Ladies and gentlemen,

I stand before you today, overwhelmed with gratitude and filled with deep appreciation for this incredible honor of receiving the "Most Inspirational" award. It is a moment I will cherish for the rest of my life, and I am humbled to have been recognized in this way.

First and foremost, I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to the organizing committee for selecting me for this prestigious award. Thank you for acknowledging my efforts and considering me worthy of such a distinction. It is truly an honor to be in the company of so many extraordinary individuals who have dedicated their lives to making a positive impact on others.

I would like to extend my sincere appreciation to my family and friends, who have been my pillars of strength and unwavering support throughout my journey. Your belief in me, encouragement, and love have been the driving force behind my endeavors. Your constant presence and belief in my abilities have fueled my determination to push boundaries and overcome obstacles.

To my mentors and role models, thank you for guiding me and showing me what it means to lead with compassion and inspire others. Your wisdom, guidance, and unwavering belief in my potential have shaped me into the person I am today. Your words of encouragement have been a constant reminder of the transformative power of inspiration.

I am also deeply grateful to my team, colleagues, and collaborators who have stood by my side and contributed to our collective success. Your dedication, passion, and hard work have been instrumental in achieving our shared goals. Together, we have created an environment that fosters growth, empowers others, and brings out the best in everyone involved.

To those who have found inspiration in my journey, I am deeply honored and grateful. It is through your support and belief in my vision that I have found the strength to persevere and make a difference. Each one of you has played a significant role in shaping my path, and for that, I am forever indebted.

Lastly, I want to remind everyone that inspiration is a gift meant to be shared. Let us strive to create a world where kindness, empathy, and motivation flourish. Together, we can empower others to dream bigger, work harder, and embrace their true potential.

Once again, I extend my heartfelt gratitude to the organizing committee, my loved ones, mentors, team members, and all those who have supported me on this remarkable journey. This award is not just a recognition of my efforts; it is a testament to the incredible power of inspiration. May we all continue to inspire, uplift, and make a positive impact on the lives of others.

Thank you.

[prenatalpeacefulliving]

7th Week of Faith

I am surrounded around so much love and I am immensely grateful for being able to NOW be able to recognize how blessed I am. Especially after experiencing the "disappearance" of my unborn child's father. I know for sure that a younger version of me would feel such rejection. I do not feel that way at all. I believe his actions may have been spiteful and thoughtless but I know deep down his cowardice was the only thing he was left with when faced with my calm, feminine, demeanor to his toxic masculinity.

Mental Prompt: "I trust in my body's wisdom. What empowering thoughts can I focus on to support my pregnancy journey?"

I have experienced many pregnancies and many births through different phases of "me", I am now at my strongest, most resilient point in my life. To keep myself focused I recognize my experiences and always understood by trusting my body that has never let me down.

Emotional Prompt: "I honor my emotions with love and compassion. What emotions am I experiencing, and how can I nurture them?"

This week has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Mostly due to my hormones, but the other moments are due to certain parts of my reality. Every time I looked for HIM to show up or at least send support for my growing seed, I give myself love and compassion. Any woman who is pregnant, no matter unstable the relationship with the father is, will feel some kind of sadness or anger about his disappearance. I make sure to remind myself that this will take time and that I began this journey of pregnancy with another and I am not afraid to complete this journey as a soloist. I have done this before, with my first child. I was so sad and depressed. I was 19, a thousand miles away from, shunned by my friends and workmates. Also the father was slandering my name to anyone who would ask about me. This time around things will be different, things are different. 19 years later and time has repeated itself. Only this time I am in a much better place.

Physical Prompt: "My body is creating life. How can I nurture and care for my physical well-being during this transformative time?"

I have finally stopped judging myself for my outrageous cravings. For example, I have been a pescatarian for years and now that I have been pregnant I have cravings for red meat. At first, the negative self talk after cooking the perfect steak would have me in the worst head space. Now, I am always encouraging myself to explore my taste buds and honor whatever my body is craving. I am happy that I am able to afford all the things that my precious little one needs.

Spiritual Prompt: "I am connected to the divine energy of creation. How can I deepen my spiritual connection to support my pregnancy?"

I feel grateful to chosen to bring life (creation) into this reality. When I meditate I touch my heart and my womb to honor my connection with the Divine, because I am Divine.

[guadalupehesus]

About grandma's love

Dear Harry,

Season 3 episode 4. Being a princess without a homeland, I listened with pain to several lines of the story of Prince Philip’s mother Princess Alice of Battenberg.

IMO we have a lot in common. Princess Alice of Battenberg had hearing problems. And I will never know whether she, recognised as "Righteous Among the Nations", was sick with schizophrenia or whether her husband got rid of the burden in this way. Harry, no matter how much bad I said, albeit deservedly, about your late grandmother Queen Elizabeth 2, I was grateful to her for showing the wisdom and bringing her mother-in-law, albeit against her husband’s will, to her palace. You can’t imagine how hard it is for royalty to lose honor in their homeland, when their former material wealth is a thing of the past. I also felt deep gratitude to Anne, Princess Royal, for supporting her grandmother at the Palace. How I wish that at least one of my grandmothers would let me into her heart during her lifetime.

I'll tell you an episode from my life. My father's mother came from the village. In her region they make very tasty kuruts - salty balls from hardened fermented milk product. She brought a lot of kuruts in a colorless polythene bag. Naturally, I saw and wanted a couple of pieces. I loved them as a child. I went up to my mother and explained the situation to her in a childish way. Mom told me to ask my grandmother for kurut myself. I obeyed and, being a 5-year-old girl, timidly asked my grandmother for 1 kurut. 1 unfortunate damn kurut, Harry. After all, she had a ton of them. She brought them for her student daughter, who at that time lived with us and ate our food, Harry.

What happened next was abnormal. The grandmother sucked kurut in her mouth. This kurut was sucked and my grandmother broke off half of this kurut with her teeth and with contempt shoved this sucked kurut into my mouth with force so that my head moved back from the pressure of her hand. "Here, have this one!" - she said. I stood in shock with a sucked kurut in my mouth. I realized that they treated me wrong, but since all the Kyrgyz and my relatives treated me that way, I silently left. I walked back and forth around the house and decided to tell my mother. Mom reacted as always: with a cold heart, she turned away in silence.

I sincerely hope, Harry, that your granny didn’t do this to you. I think that was a little wrong, didn't it? I wouldn't even do that to a pig. I asked the spirits why people do this to me. 1 reason was that the fighters with the prophet Isa, peace be upon him, were reincarnated in my country, and I was the Bride of Christ, as your royal clairvoyants probably already told you. I recognized Herod among the Kyrgyz. He was also in power and wealth. Nothing has changed, damn it, Harry! Nothing!!! Either our prophet or yours once said that he would rather believe that a mountain has moved than that a person has changed. I recognized in the muslim men and women in hijabs among the southern Kyrgyz the stiff-necked and Christ-fighting people of Christ. This pushes away from Islam. They also continue to stubbornly spread rot on the saints, being confident that only they will receive heaven, and all the Russian pigs and others will be in hell. The second reason is found in envy of the crowned personality. It turns out that my nation has shamanic intuition. And looking at me, they see the future greatness of the so-called Russian pigs and will do everything to tear this greatness away from the great people of Hyperborea. May Allah give only disgrace and shame in both worlds to the oppressors of the saints and prophets. Amen. Since I am a person suffering and praying for Imam Mahdi and the coming of Christ, God hears my prayers, Harry. And many rulers notice that God answers the prayer of the stone rejected by the builders.

And no matter how much wisdom I spoke, my society turned out to be closed and completely deaf, because, truly, as it was told: "No prophet is acceptable in his hometown". In any case, that’s what the one I was already despairing of waiting for said.

Sincerely yours,

Asel

[lgcsoji]

* ╱ 𝑨𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝟎𝟏𝟖 ⤿ "𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚂𝚘𝚓𝚒𝚗: 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚝𝚢𝚕𝚎, 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀☆

Sojin walked onto the stage, a picture of effortless charm and style, to accept the delightfully absurd Most Likely to Know Your Business award at the grand finale of the New Faces Variety Show. His Balmain suit fit him like it was tailored by magic, exuding sophistication with just the right amount of edge. The glint of his Roberto Coin jewelry, particularly his anklet, winked mischievously under the stage lights, a subtle nod to his playful spirit.

Grinning ear to ear, Sojin's heart swelled with amusement and excitement as he surveyed the crowd. This culminated in hard work, determination, and a dash of sheer luck. But as much as he relished the spotlight, he knew humility was his most valuable accessory.

In his acceptance speech, Sojin took a deep breath, his eyes shining despite his nerves. "Well, well, well, look who's standing here, winning an award for being nosy," he began, soliciting a few chuckles from the audience. "I am deeply honored to receive this award. Truly, it's like winning the lottery—if the lottery involved knowing everyone's business."

His voice softened as he continued, his tone sincere yet laced with his trademark wit. "I owe this moment to so many people—the ones who shared their secrets with me, the ones who laughed with me, and even the ones who told me I was crazy for chasing this dream."

"So, to my family, thank you for putting up with my incessant curiosity at odd hours and for always being my loudest cheerleaders. To my mentors, thank you for seeing something in me even when I couldn't see it myself. And to my fans, thank you for sticking with me through the highs, the lows, and the occasional gossip mishap."

The crowd reacted with applause, and Sojin flashed them a grateful smile before continuing. "But let's not forget that this award isn't just about me—it's about all of us who love a good story. The ones who dare to ask questions, even when the answers are unexpected. So here's to the late-night chats, the whispered secrets, and the countless moments of shared laughter."

With a playful wink, Sojin raised his award high. "To everyone who's ever been curious about the world and the people in it, this one's for you. And to the New Faces Team, thank you for recognizing this small-town boy with big dreams. I promise to wear this title with pride and to keep pushing boundaries, breaking barriers, and maybe even discovering a few more secrets along the way."

Leaving the stage, Sojin couldn't help but laugh at himself for his 'acceptance.' And for the incredible journey that had led him to this moment.

[solaceofthemartyr]

Dear women

As a man, I write to you from a place of deep respect and profound humility. Raised by a single mother, a pillar of strength, resilience, and love, and as a brother of unrelated younger sisters who are still family, my life has been profoundly shaped by indomitable spirit of women. To the sisters, mothers, grandmothers, and aunts who embody the essence of womanhood through every fiber of their being, I extend my admiration and gratitude.

In a world teeming with voices and opinions, the clarity and purity of what it truly means to be a woman often seems overshadowed. Yet, it is undeniable the strength, resilience, and nurturing spirit you possess have been the bedrock of societies, the backbone of families, and the guiding light for generations.

Womanhood is not merely a label; it is a legacy. It is carried in the stories of struggle and triumph told by our grandmothers, in the silent sacrifices of mothers who put their dreams on hold so others can build theirs, and in the fierce independence of sisters and aunts who shatter glass ceilings and forge new paths.

This letter is not an attempt to fefine or confine your experience but rather acknowledge and celebrate it. In the tapestry of humanity, your threads are woven with gold shining with the wisdom of the ages, the courage of warriors, and the heart of nurturers. You embody the complexity and beauty of life itself, bringing forth life, nurturing it, and protecting it with a ferocity and love that knows no bounds.

To every woman who had ever felt unseen or undervalued, know that your essence is recognized. Your battles, both public and private, have not gone unnoticed. Your achievements, whether celebrated or silent, have not been forgotten.

This is a tribute to you, the women who navigate the complexities of existence with grace, who fight battles both big and small for the sake of those you love, and who continue to inspire with your ability to rise, time and again, from the ashes of adversity.

As a I may never fully comprehend the depth of your experience, but I dtsnd in awe of your strength and your softness. your resilience and your vulnerability all of which make you indescribably magnificent.

And on behalf of all men, to any woman I may have harmed, knowingly or unknowingly, through action or inaction, through words or silence- I extend my sincere apologies. It is a reflection of my own feelings and not a measure of your worth. And on behalf of myself in acknowledging my missteps, I commit to listening more, learning more, and doing better. For it is through understanding and respect that we can all move forward together, stronger and more unified in our shared human journey.

We, as men, must strive to create a safer world that honors, respects, and uplifts you, rather than one that disempowers or diminishes your incredible worth. This means standing against injustices, speaking out against violence and discrimination, and working diligently to dismantle the system and behaviors that have historically undernined womans rights and freedoms. It is our responsibility to ensure that the world we share is one where women are not only safe but celebrated for the incredible human beings that you are.

Thank you for being the carrie 10/10 of life, the custodians of compassion, and the architects of a better world. Your influence has been a guiding light of my journey. and for that, I am eternally grateful.

With the utmost respect and admiration, ~That one guy who tries too hard

(A man who was raised by a queen and hopes to walks beside goddesses, committed to making the world a place that honors you rightfully)

[wind-vp]

the way my life completely shifted since the pandemic, it is truly something.

i always nurtured and was extremely lucky regarding to my affective world and the conexions i made.

i always had a strong circle, i always had super loving friendships that felt especial, solid and with so much mutually built common ground. I was -and i am- extremely apreciative of connecting with someone else. I always honored the conexions i made in my life and ALWAYS felt that love was THEE motor of my life.

Love as loving someone, as an act, as a creation and resistence from such a cold word and politics of individualism and heterosexuality. I always found my myself and pride myself, in the beautiful relationships that i built with others and also, having strong sense of self.

Now, 4 years into the pandemic, my affective/social and even my inner world just..dead. it is hard to say out loud or to recognize it but i definitely fell into such a deep deep depression and high anxiety that i can not do nothing anymoeet. My baseline was already depression and a strong anxiety that restricted me from a lot of things, and people close to me had to accommodate me in some ways, but now, im not able to do anything. Im able to only wake up and give my all, to not even achieve the basics of being alive.

i lost so much these pasts years. i lost so much of myself and pretty much everyone in my life. I grieved so much in silence, with shame, with extreme sadness.

I feel like these have been just very hard times for everyone. There is, of course, a layer of ableism regarding my situation and anyones that can relate to being isolated bc of mental health or overall health issues, but overall it is just been hard for everyone.

i lost all my friends but two of them that live v far away from me. and i'm grieving the lost of my best friend (my cat) that meant the entire world to me. I am extremely grateful for keeping them and them being so understanding. But, with that gratefulness, i hold dissapointed of myself of how limited i am, how dead, how dull and how im not really able to show up and create the type of dynamic i want to have w my loved ones and actually giving them what deserve to experience as well.

It has become incredible difficult, borderline impossible to even do the bare minimums and it doesnt happen out of "will". i think people dont truly understand that. Weponized therapy talk, universalizing moral paradigms that dont look for a more open and understanding approach to relate to each other but only seem to enforce new moral categories/punitive schemes also adds to the picture of isolation while navigating mental health issues or crisis.

i have been feeling extremely alienated of how the world continues to shape itself. I Always had. But the feeling just deepens. Where i felt i had agency to resist before, now i can't find the strength or opportunities to build myself up or new relationships and the landscape is just.. scary.

Sadly, i feel like it is no way out for me. this feeling of death has been building for so, so long without even noticing, and it amounted to actually become incapable of everything. i have no tools to get out, no hands to give me a little pull out of this amd i feel very, very incompatible with the way the world is shaped up.

i never saw myself like this. it is very hard to grasp and very hard to even foresee the slight movement in my life to crawl out of this.

[healthyhorns]

Healthyhorns Staff Features: Angelique Karditzas

Angelique Karditzas (she/her/hers) is a health promotion coordinator who oversees  Healthyhorns Sleep initiatives and co-instructs the Longhorn Wellness Peer Educator program.

Angelique joined the Healthyhorns team in October in 2021. She earned her undergraduate degree in sociology at The University of North Carolina Wilmington. Her academic journey also led her to Swansea University in Wales, UK where she obtained her master’s in public health and health promotion.

“I think my education helps me keep my work human-centered and focused on the student experience,” Angelique said. “My research was focused on the influence of the campus environment on student health and well-being.”

Angelique is a Certified Health Education Specialist, accredited by the National Commission for Health Education Credentialing, and has experience teaching yoga, meditation and mindfulness.

In addition to being the program coordinator for Healthyhorns Sleep, Angelique co-leads the Longhorn Wellness Peer Educators program.

“I have always been drawn to higher education, in the sense that I love being surrounded by learning,” Angelique said. “I am also a co-instructor for the Longhorn Wellness Peer Educator program. Getting to empower these students with the knowledge and skills to deliver health education on campus, is truly one of the most rewarding parts of my job.”

Angelique said that she is honored to be part of this facet of her students’ chapters and that getting to connect with students through both the health promotion side of her work, as well as teaching in the classroom, is just a dream come true.

“Working with college students is just so fun” Angelique said. “Lots of students are kind of figuring out sides of their personalities and interests that they have not been able to access before. They are getting exposed to so many new experiences, and it’s incredible to watch those shifts take place.”

Angelique said that because she personally struggled with her health and well-being through college, her work feels even more impactful and important.

“In the Longhorn Wellness Center, we have such a wide range of programming, there is really a connection point in for any student,” Angelique said. “Personally, I lead initiatives around sleep and rest, and I am passionate about helping students recognize their own patterns that can impact their wellness.”

Angelique said it is important to continue to educate students around sleep, and also encourage a shift in the campus “busyness” culture to help students recognize the incredible benefits of rest.

One piece of advice that Angelique says she wants students to know is to simply find ways to rest.

“Discover what rest looks like for you, and make space for that in your day to day,” Angelique said. “Part of that is getting a good night’s sleep, but there’s also a big piece in allowing yourself to take breaks and fuel yourself in mindful and meaningful ways – journaling, meditation, deep breathing, connecting with a friend - find what works for your individual needs, and do it.”

Angelique said she and the Longhorn Wellness Center staff are always excited and ready to welcome students into their space.

“Whether you’re participating in one of our programs, are interested in health and wellness, or just want a place to study – come hang out with us,” Angelique said. “We have so many students involved with our office in different ways, as well as staff working on so many diverse health and wellness initiatives, there’s truly something for everyone.”

In addition to Healthyhorns Sleep resources, students can come into the Longhorn Wellness Center and pick up resources like free sleep kits, safer sex supplies, Healthyhorns stickers, and tons of great informational resources.

“I’m grateful every day to work in such a wonderful environment, and with such incredible humans, and I would just encourage students to connect with us in any way that is helpful and supportive for them,” Angelique said. “We are here for you.”

Learn more about the Longhorn Wellness Center by visiting healthyhorns.utexas.edu/lwc or by stopping by the office to visit in person. The space is home to a plethora of well-being resources and an open workspace.

Student Services Building 100 West Dean Keeton Street, 1.106 | 512-475-8252

-Erin Garcia, Healthyhorns Outreach and Social Media Coordinator

[raccoonfallsharder]

i hope you don’t mind me dropping by your ask box so frequently, but im the anon who asked those fic writer questions (4, 13, 15) and also the same person who asked about the whole critique/advice thing. ive genuinely never thought about it that way and what you said stuck to me, especially the last two lines, don’t stop making plums, people need plums, it’s so oddly motivational and im completely in awe at how you were able to come up with that which brings me to my next question uh

how do you write so vividly?

you’re the author i wanted critique from, surprise, hehe.

it’s just that the way you phrase certain things makes what should have been a vague but known feeling not so vague, if that makes sense? i feel like im speaking out of my ass right now but you have a way with words is what im saying, and i see that especially in the ninth visit and blackmail material chapter 2, and i cant stop thinking about how you can come up with such profound ways of writing mundane things.

im gonna sign off because the last two asks ive sent in tells me this may not be the last time im anonymously hitting up your ask box again.

— reddie anon

reddie-sweetheart. butterfly. my little love. firstly you are so kind and i’m honestly so fuckin honored. this legit made my heart hurt ♡ thank you. i’m so glad that my writing has resonated with you in these ways.

i was thinking about this all day since i saw your ask. i’m not completely sure i know which parts of my writing felt really vivid to you personally and i am not completely sure i can tell you how my brain works (‘cause mostly it’s just fucked in there) but there are two things i do when I’m trying to evoke a specific emotion or vibe and I can try to share those??

1. i think about how an emotion feels physically in my body.

most people don’t know what emotions they’re experiencing when they’re experiencing them. emotions are hard and it’s often not till later that we can reflect on them && say “oh i was heartbroken,” “i felt betrayed,” “i was in amazement.” so when a character is having a reaction, I think about where I feel those responses in my own body (hunching shoulders? falling stomach? a sudden release of tension in the neck?), and those are the reactions I try to describe. (especially when you’ve got a character like fuckin rocket who wouldn’t recognize an emotion if someone pointed to to it on a goddamn chart)

2. i think about what other things are that evoke the same feeling for me.

so like when i say that you, reddie-nonnie, are a warm cup of honey-tea on a foggy morning, you probably know what i mean. i mean : your words offered me great comfort and healing. i mean: your kindness soothed my heart/soul/mind. i mean - you are sweet and hydrating and good. i mean that you are a little bit of brightness and i am grateful you exist.

and when i say your stories are plums, you probably also know what i mean. you’ve probably seen plums. there’s a good chance you’ve eaten some. but even if you haven’t, you can probably figure out that they’re juicy. sweet. nourishing. and that there’s nothing else quite like them.

so. IN PRACTICE. sometimes i write all this in a rough draft and have to go back and edit these weird-ass descriptions down because i get too deep in my head/too far out in space and i stop making sense lol. other times i write my drafts very plainly and it isn’t till revision that i say, okay - how can i make people really understand that when i say he was awestruck what i mean is, like, his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and his heart was on the floor?

i REALLY hope this was helpful for you. I don’t know how much of it, if any, made sense, but i will always be flattered by any questions you ask and i will do my best to answer thoughtfully, thoroughly, honestly, and as well as i can. have a lovely night (day??) reddie-nonnie and thank you for trusting me with this question - I hope the answer was what you were looking for ♡♡♡

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2  ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone. 

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif. 

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day. 

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you. 

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream. 

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

          How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf. 

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants. 

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon. 

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you. 

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips. 

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt. 

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face. 

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went. 

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done. 

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror. 

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance. 

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness. 

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get. 

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips. 

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing. 

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

[guerrerajaguar]

I’m glad to see you would like to write for Naruto villains🥰 I just found your account and I LOVE the way you write !! I would love if you could make Obito save a random shinobi girl who’s country has been destroyed and deciding to take care of her/live with her as she has nothing left. If this does not give you any inspiration or if it’s too detailed feel free to just ignore it😅

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for following up your request after your first question and I am really thankful for inspiring me to write in the Naruto fandom, its feels like ages when I last wrote about it. It just brings me back so good memories!

I also feel flattered for you liking my writing <3

So yes, I love your idea! Let's see if I nailed.

P.D please feel free to send more Naruto requests <3

Obito x fem!reader (Rescuing a Kunoichi from a destroyed country)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death.

Everything was over, everything was gone, everything that you knew and cared for. Your friends, your family, all the people that made you feel at home. Yours was a very poor country although with a decent count of Shinobi, full of violence and riots even before the great shinobi nations started to use it as a low cost battlefield. None of this was new so as you were used to anarchy and cruelty, you never imagined the consequences of the latest clash between Konohagakure and Sunagakure shinobis.

Actually you felt grateful for having missed such macabre entertainment, every step you took showed you corpses of the people that you knew, the stinging smell of burnt flesh pierced through your nostrils. There was not much fire left, since there was really nothing left to fuel it. Were you the only survivor? You barely made it out in one piece from under the heaviest debris your Suiton has ever lifted.

Did your comrades fought until the end? You did not knew it either, but you were fortunate enough for not seeing how Konoha and Suna Shinobis slashed out all your companions while they desperately tried to protect the little they got left; which was nothing more than their honor and the lives of those who were precious to them.

Could the feelings bubbling up in your chest be anger, sadness or perhaps despair? One way or another you could not bring yourself to cry, not until you saw your family; with your own eyes. You looked for what seemed ages, isn’t it interesting how time whimsically chooses their victims? You were there, right in front of them, you somehow recognized them despite how much their bodies were mutilated. You fell to your knees, still unable to cry, breathing steady but painfully.

“Isn’t this reality the true hell?” Said a very masculine deep voice at your back and even though being heartbroken you were still able to quickly turn around to face him, on a guard stance with an improvised sharp stake. “You have faced so much death and still you have the will to preserve yours? Interesting…” As he scanned you from head to toes you took the chance to observe him as well; he was taller than you, black short hair, muscular in a moderate way, midnight blue robes with black gloves as his outfit, the entire right side of his face had a very distinctive scarring pattern and only one penetrating pitch black eye.

You lowered your guard, he was right, with so much death around there was very little left to protect; only your life but even then, attacking him will be an idiotic idea if you were planning on surviving. So you spoke in a low voice: “Well, this is the only reality…”. You tensed your body for what could be coming up next; perhaps this will be the end of you, a way of joining the ones you just lost but still you will die fighting just as they did.

“Is it?” He answered back with a very calm voice and shaking your head as in trying to clear your mind, you responded “ Is it what?”. “This being the only reality we could live in, a living hell.” he said with a very stoic expression. You were exhausted both mentally and physically, you felt your body giving out at any moment now, so naturally none of his words made sense to you. Brushing all your hair back you confessed with an exhausted expression: “I am sorry sir, I am not following this babbling of yours”. He released a soft chuckle, turned around and muttered: “Come with me”.

Now your head was dizzy, you felt disoriented and confused and you were unsure if you answered him but he spoke again: “You can barely stand by yourself and I can sense the disturbance in your chakra flow. You are exhausted and if you stay here you will very likely die. If that is what you want, so be it; but if you want to live, come with me”. He was being serious or at least that was the impression he gave you. It only took you a moment, but in reality you had already chosen life the moment you raised your guard when you heard him the first time.

You took the first step towards him and everything went black, as you lost consciousness he ably caught you before touching the floor and carried you in bridal style to what seemed to be his improvised campsite. While you were dreaming, you could see the lake where you learned your first suiton jutsu, your sensei, your teammates and a very sweet scent, barely perceptible; firewood and rain. You slowly opened your eyes as you woke up, a small crackling fire scarcely illuminated the cave in which you were refuging from the heavy rain outside.

A brownish blanket glided down as you tried to sit up, your entire body was screaming in pain and with an erratic breathing you tried to stand up. “I would advise you to take it easy. I bet you can hardly move due to the pain, adding more stress to your body will only make it worse.” Said the man who was sitting right in front of the fire, his silhouette narrowly perceptible. With a lot of effort, you managed to rest your back against one of the cave walls just to be surprised by the man who was offering an improvised food plate; made up of rice and fire-cooked fish.

What was going on? Was this man planning to recover you to full health in order to kill you when you were at your best? Was he going to enslave you or sell you as a commodity? Your thoughts did not make any sense, but you really could not understand. You hesitantly accepted what he was offering, bowed in gratitude and started eating. Since you were starving it not only tasted awesome, it helped you to clear your mind and so you questioned him: “Although I am really grateful for you helping me out, I really don’t understand why you would go all your way for helping someone, like me…”.

Those last two words had so many implications and meanings; ranging from an orphan with no place to return back up to possibly being a Kunoichi from an enemy country to him. Because he was also a shinobi, right? But he just plainly answered by steadily staring at the fire: “Well, who knows…”

And he was exactly right, he was not sure at all why he stopped to help you. You were there alone, ravaged by the horrors of the shinobi wars, devastated by having lost everything you lived for and never shed a single tear. That intrigued him, you were beautiful, how your hair locks fell down your face even after being under so much pain and your eyes, so deep and full of mysteries he thought were worth his time unveiling.

While lost in his thoughts, you finally started sobbing silently. It was like everything had fallen right in place and you were finally accepting everything that happened, Obito felt warmness in his heart. How long has it been since he felt something of the sort? He then spoke in a softer voice: “I will create a reality, a world where nothing like this will happen again.” You smiled sourly and asked him: “Is that possible? Can someone really do it?” He got dangerously closer to you: “I certainly can and will. And in that world all your loved ones will be there with you.”

You could not stop yourself from blushing and turned away from him: “Well… umm” He interrupted: “Obito, just Obito”. You nodded and continued: “Well Obito-san, I hope I can still be here to see that day come by.” His face softened, not to the extent of being a smile but something very close to it. “Then come with me and I will show you that world when the time is right.” From that day on, you both traveled together for some time. He taught you new jutsus and showed you the secret messages hidden in the stars.

As he felt the first time he met you, you stirred feelings in him that he thought were totally forgotten. What about his plan for the infinite tsukuyomi, was it still worth it? Absolutely yes, now more than ever if it was for your sake. He just spoke to you: “ Y/N?”. You answered him back with a very wide smile and a cheerful expression, which he loved so much to see: “Yes, Obito-san?”. He hesitated but continued: “Remember that reality we talked about when we met? Well, the day has come and now everything is settled for its completion.”

“I am ready whenever you are.” You declared with determination as you stopped on your tracks. “No, I need you… I want you to stay here, that way I can keep you safe. It might take me sometime but I will definitely come back to you.” He said this as he cupped your cheek and leaned closer to softly and tenderly kiss you in the lips. It was the first time he did something of the sort so your face was completely flushed. And without saying another word he left, leaving you in the place farthest possible of where he knew the core battle will take place.

He left you waiting for his return, a day that never came. Later you found out what really happened and the reason for his eternal absence. With your heart aching you could only hope that the wind carried out the words you whispered as he left you that day: “Obito-san, I love you.”

[thestorycfus]

The Sweetest Apparition - Part 3

Pairing: Peggy Carter x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and historian who specializes in the life and legacy of Captain Carter. After Nick Fury uses the Tesseract to bring Peggy back, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts the reader to help her navigate life in the XXI century.

Warnings and notes: Food, mentions of Steggy, mentions of Stucky, very small mentions of war. Other characters are also mentioned. This got way longer than the first two parts, but there’s also way more Peggy here. This series takes place after the last scene of What If… episode one, including spoilers to that episode. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Word count: 2,304

Series Masterlist

It should be a short walk to your apartment, but you made a small stop each time Captain Carter was curious about something. You also got some take out on the way, making sure to pick at least four different options from separate places and a couple of desserts too, since you didn’t know her taste yet. It was a while before you made it to your street.

During the entire time, your chatting was limited to safe topics - how loud and bright the city was, how many screens there were, the amount of coffee options that existed now. You watched Carter fall in love with her caramel coffee and made a mental note to buy her more sweets.

Soon, the Captain would also need to go shopping. Fury had gotten her the formal white blouse and the black pants she wore now, an outfit much more discreet than the uniform she was wearing when she fell, but that was her entire wardrobe at the moment. That was another mission you should handle, but it could wait until after lunch.

When you finally got home, you placed the food over a kitchen counter and gave Carter a quick tour of the apartment. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough for both of you until she was more familiar with this century. The tour ended where it started: in your tiny kitchen. You pulled a stool for the Captain and presented her with the options for lunch.

“I suppose you’ve never tried some of those, so I got a few different meals. Burritos, sweet and sour chicken, calzones and Pad Thai. For dessert, there’s lemon tart and triple chocolate cake. I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Peggy took a seat and examined her options. You wondered if that would be, technically her first meal since the 40’s.

“They are all tempting, but I might start with this one.” Her eyes were fixated on a burrito as if it was the Holy Grail. Yeah, that was surely the first time she ate in seventy years. She dove in, so focused on her meal that you didn’t dare to interrupt. Meanwhile, you took the other stool and picked a calzone, eating it while you watched Carter.

You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that she was really here, and it was surprising that you hadn’t completely freaked out so far, but the prospect of the rest of the day started to worry you. The Captain would certainly have a lot of questions and, if there were inquiries that Fury left for you to answer, they probably pertained more to her personal life than to great historical events.

If the registers about her were right, it wouldn’t be long before the real conversation started. Peggy Carter was too smart to have such a debate in the middle of the street, but she wasn’t known for stalling. As soon as she finished her meal, in the privacy of your (now shared) kitchen, you would have to provide about seven decades of answers.

Before you could try to prepare yourself, she was done with her second burrito. You almost suggested dessert, but the look she gave you left no room for pauses. Carter turned on her stool to face you directly, her posture becoming straighter and her eyes never leaving yours. She was the perfect image of Captain Carter, the hero, the legend who defeated all odds. Still, when she spoke, there was softness in her voice.

“The meal was lovely and so is the apartment. I can’t thank you enough for you kindness, Agent L/N, but I must ask a few things more of you. If you have studied about my life, you must know what happened to Steve Rogers after I was gone.”

You should be ready for that. Of course her first personal concern would be about Rogers. His story with Carter went down in history as a tragic tale of love, bravery and loss. To his last days, Rogers had made it his mission to honor her legacy, but that wasn’t all that he did. How do you tell a person that the love of her life went on to live a decades long, fulfilling relationship with someone else, even though, from her perspective, they were together the day before?

“Please, call me Y/N. And you can ask anything, Captain. I will tell you everything I can.” You took a deep breath, going through the words in your head in search of the best way to let her know. It was best to keep nothing out. Carter deserved that. “Steve Rogers continued to serve as the Hydra Stomper until the war had ended and all known Hydra operations had been eliminated. After that, he stepped out of the suit so that Howard Stark could continue his research with the Tesseract. I believe neither of them ever gave up on bringing you back, but, in many ways, they also moved on to build new lives.”

You made a small pause, in case she wanted to say something, but Carter only gave you a nod, encouraging you to continue. It was impossible to look away from her eyes, or to keep anything hidden when she stared at you with such intensity. Even in silence, sitting still, she emanated a power that kept you talking.

“A few years after the war, Rogers and Stark started an intelligence agency to keep the world safe from threats we could barely understand. They named it S.H.I.E.L.D., because of you. That is the agency I work for, directed by Nick Fury.” There was something poetic in the way that same agency ended up being the reason Peggy Carter was back, but it wasn’t your place to point that out. “Rogers never stopped fighting, even without the suit. He was a legendary agent, working along with James Barnes until they retired. They were also together for the rest of their lives.”

That was the piece of information you feared would break Carter’s heart, but she had a bright smile after hearing that.

“That suits them. All of them.” The joy in her voice sounded so sincere, and you couldn’t help but ask.

“Were you and Rogers… Together? It is said so in the official files, but…” In your studies, you sometimes wondered if their relationship was just a myth, maybe a publicity stunt to humanize the fallen super soldier. It was your job to question the data, but you had never paid that possibility much attention until now.

Instead of being offended by your invasion of her privacy, Carter laughed so lightly and freely that you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Oh, darling, Steve Rogers had a heart too big to have only one soul mate. He was the love of my life, yes, and I was the love of his, but not the only one. A love so beautiful and dedicated is supposed to be shared. Of course I’m sad I didn’t get to share the rest of his life with him, but I’m relieved to know that he and Bucky had each other. And that’s not to say I’m a being of such virtue that I’m above jealousy. I felt jealous of Steve alright, many times, but I could never be jealous of him with Buck. They fit well together and they were good for each other. They were real, just as Steve and I were. Steve deserved to be loved through a lifetime. I’m grateful that he was.”

Carter’s eyes shined with tears, but she didn’t allow any to fall. Maybe she would let herself grief for the lost possibilities later, but for now she was handling such an emotional journey with more elegance than you thought possible. It didn’t seem to be an act at all. On the contrary, what touched you the most was the honesty in her words. That selflessness of being genuinely happy to hear of how her soul mate lived on without her, in love with someone else, told you more about Peggy Carter than any history book ever had. And that’s how she reacted right after being thrown into the next century, coming directly from a war and landing in a world she didn’t recognize.

“I don’t think history ever made you justice, Captain. The general public thinks of you as a hero, but they’re so far from knowing the person behind the suit... You know, it’s very nice to meet you.” You couldn’t help but sharing a bit of what was on your mind. To that moment, your hero was turning out to be even better than your daydreams, and it was only fair to let her know so.

At that, she gave you a big smile and your heart skipped a beat. You would have a hard time sharing an apartment with this woman.

“You are far too kind to me. To be honest, they never showed much interest on me, suit or not, until I went against official orders and started throwing tanks around and fighting the battles that needed to be fought. I am more concerned about what I am able to achieve, regardless of how they will see me. And there’s no need to call me Captain, Y/N. Heavens, we live and work together now and you’re my guide to modern life. Peggy is fine. And it’s nice to meet you too.” She took the initiative to get a slice of chocolate cake, already making herself at home. You had the feeling that her adaptation to this world wouldn’t be too difficult, all things considered. Peggy Carter would take whatever she was given and make more of it than anyone imagined possible.

“As you wish, Peggy. Speaking of that, there’s a lot I think you’ll like to see about life now. What else are you curious about?” You took your own slice of cake, trying to feel at ease in this conversation. You couldn’t be on high alert whenever Carter was around if she was going to be around all the time, but that was easier said than done. Your responsibilities here were enormous and, to be frank, you were determined to be your best self and impress her, even if just a bit. Maybe telling her about the wonders of nowadays technology would do the trick.

“I am curious about everything. I can’t wait to know all about the development of science, or what I missed in seven decades of sociopolitical turmoil, but there’s one more person I’d love to hear about before we get to that. You mentioned Howard moving on with his life, didn’t you? What exactly was that little menace up to while I was gone?”

Now, that was a rich topic of conversation.

“Well, Stark continued his research with the Tesseract and with many other projects, sometimes along with the US government, and he built a billionaire empire. Weapons, all sorts of technology, wild parties. The man had everything. He has a son, Tony, who inherited the tech, the money and the brains, but with a stronger inclination to heroism. You see, Tony Stark built himself a supersuit, partially inspired by his father’s Hydra Stomper, but with a larger variety of uses. It’s said that Steve Rogers was a sort of mentor to him, but I couldn’t get Stark to talk a lot about it when I interviewed him.”

You couldn’t tell which part made Peggy more excited. She nodded along as you listed Howard Stark’s achievements, as if it was all expected, and her eyes got wider when you told her about his son. When you mentioned Rogers, she almost jumped in her seat. She was already invested, but dropping that name sealed the deal.

“Fury gave me this.” She took two business cards out of her pocket. “It has his telephone number and Barton’s too. Could I use your telephone to call him? I would like to meet this Tony Stark, and I bet Fury would be able to reach him.” 

Giving Director Fury a call from your cellphone felt strange, but how could you deny Peggy that? If the Director gave her the number, he wanted her to be able to reach him, right? 

Instead of dialing yourself, you showed Carter how to use the phone. She looked like a kid on Christmas whenever she was given access to new technology. You would make sure she got a cellphone of her own soon so you could show her everything the device could do. 

She called Fury and you waited as they talked for less than two minutes. Peggy handed you the phone when she was done, with a smile that said she got what she wanted.

“So, what did the Director say?” You asked, anxious to know the outcome of the call.

“We’re meeting Tony Stark tomorrow at 2pm in his tower. Was it him who named it Stark tower or is that Howard’s doing?” She narrowed her eyes a bit, still smiling.

“The tower was built by Tony, so I think we can’t blame Howard for that one.” You joked. “Are you meeting Fury at S.H.I.E.L.D. before you two go to Stark’s?”

“Oh, Fury is not going. He booked the meeting for you and me, if you would like to accompany me.” Peggy sounded hesitant, as if she had just considered that you might not want to join her on that plan. 

"You’re asking me if I wish to be there when Captain Carter meets Tony Stark? Please, if I didn’t get the chance to be a part of that exchange, I would beg you for a detailed retelling as soon as you got home.” 

Your reply made Peggy laugh once more, and you were getting used to that sound very quickly.

[daisiesandshakes]

Good day my dear and first of all, let me thank you and praise you for your beautiful HC! I really enjoyed reading each one of them, and I'm grateful to have your posts filling my dashboard!🥰

If I may leave a request in your ask box... I would like to have a HC reaction of Le Comte, Shakespeare, and Theodorus with MC who gets all nervous and anxious with getting skinship from them for the first time (but eventually can handle it in time).

Thank you beforehand and do take your time and no rushing things! Stay safe and have a nice day~! 🍀✨

Hi sweetheart!

I am so honored to have you in my ask box 💝 thousand thanks for your praise, I am so happy you liked my HC!

Sorry it took a few days to write yours, and I really, really hope you enjoy it!

Here you go:

Ikevamp reactions to a MC who is afraid with skinshipping (Shakespeare, Theodorus & le Comte)

Shakespeare

At their introducing to each other William notices the hesitation as he reaches for her hand to blow a kiss on it. Might this dazzling, little dove be scared? Immediatly he interrupts his action and only bows with a warm smile on his handsome face to comfort her.

Shakespeare can read people very well and recognizes instantly that she gets scared when someone touches her directly. Dealing with his own fear (he's afraid of the dark) he knows how hard it can be to live with anxiety.

"Feareth nothing mine own fair maiden, I wouldst nev'r toucheth thee without p'rmission."

Enchanted by her sweet personality he's very eager to please and comfort her. When she's in town William tries to join her as much as possible, always walking on the side where people could touch her by accident. He would offer his arm when she needs to secure her steps and walk in front of her when it's crowdy (while glaring daggers) to guide her safely through.

Searching for ways to know her better Will arranges many, long walks at the Seine and dinner at a restaurant at a late hour when it's less crowded, chatting with her for hours. Seeking for possibilities to create a pleasantly warm and welcomed atmosphere for her, he asks her also for dinner at his Villa, reading out his newest script and teaching her old english.

Soon after William invites her to his rehearsals (he instructed his troupe members to avoid touching her), hoping that his kind and open troupe makes her feel more safe with the time. And to his greatest pleasure it seems to work. Everyone treats her like a precious, lost little sister and she starts to lose her inner tension around them.

It begins with small gestures, like helping the troupe members getting dressed with their costumes, passing over the props without flinching when they accidently touch her.

One evening she tells William how much she enjoyed the day with a bright smile while she lays her hand on his for a second. "I am so joyous to heareth those honest w'rds from thy fair lips" He turns his face away from her, so she couldn't glimpse the suspicious glistening in his eyes.

The day the play should start an actress has an accident and is not able to take part. Although she's got only a short performance, it presents an important twist in the play. Shakespeare is desperate and about to cancel the whole play, but then...

"I could do her part." MC's voice is faint but firm. Shakespeare's eyes grow wide with surprise. "Art thee sure about yond?"

She plasters a confident smile on her face. "Yes, I saw the rehearsals so many times, I could speak all lines backwards" she giggles, "and there is only one line for myself, so..."

William closes the gap between them, gazing deep in her eyes, frowning.

"T's not the line yond conc'rns me, I am sure thou art able to mast'r t. But the act'r hast to holdeth thee in his arms and I wonneth't confronteth thee with aught yond maketh thee feel uncomfortable."

She swallows hard but replies: "I can do it. When the embrace is soft and he won't press my body against his... I should go along with it. You all worked so hard for it, to see the play cancelled would hurt me much more than his arms around my waist."

The actor appears next to them "Princess, I swear I'll only hold you with the wings of a butterfly!"

With a warm and lovingly glare Shakespeare whispers "So t shouldst beest as thee wisheth. Thee can't imagineth what t means to me yond thee art willing to confronteth thy fears f'r our success."

As the stage play ends the audiance gives standing ovations. After every actor and at least William bows to the public, he rushes backstage for laudatary words. Spotting her his expression lightens up even more "Mine own muse, thee madeth t! Thee enchant'd ev'ryone and hath brought us most wondrous success!" he declares smiling. Laughing joyfully she hurries towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and Shakespeare freezes. "I am so, so happy for you Will! Everything went smoothly! Listen to the applause, Will! It seems it won't end!" As she lifts her head to meet his gaze he takes her delicate hand softly into his, and suddenly she realizes that she hugged him without any hesitation.

"Thee not feareth mine own toucheth anym're, little turtledove?" he asks barely audible.

Lost for words she only shakes her head, thightening the grip around his shoulder. Leading her hand slowly up to his face, Will  watches her reactions closely, ready to stop at any second when her features show displeasure. But the radiant expression in her eyes and the smile on her lips stays, and he nuzzles his cheek into her palm with a sigh. Resting her cheek against his chest she clings to him and both close their eyes, enjoying this special moment, knowing there are a lot more waiting for them to explore.

Theodorus

At first he's just annoyed by the "new, helpless hondje" that stays with them at the mansion. But after a few days he learns from a conversation between Vincent and her that she loves art as much as he does, what awakens his interest. Paying more attention to her  now he feels attracted to her charming personality and repartee (mostly when it comes to repel Arthur's salacious remarks).

In one of those moments he notices her unusual pale face and the tension in her body, trying to keep a distance between her and Arthur. Although his "threatening words" and his advances are supposed to be merely a jest, she looks like a cornered animal. It clicks in his mind.

Pulling Arthur back at his collar he growls "That's quite enough, get your besotted mess off her. That little hondje will only bark for me." A bit confused and wide eyed Arthur leaves you both alone.

Theo sighs. "You can't bear the touch of someone, am I right?" She didn't expect that he of all residents would recognize it first and in her surprise she only nods. Theo buzzes "Then stay around me and Vincent, that should be safe for you. I'll talk to the others, there is no point in hiding your anxiety. You shouldn't look over your shoulder in fear like a scared, helpless puppy everytime someone gets close to you."

Theo talks to the other residents the same day (threatens Arthur to beat the sh*t out of him if he dares to come too close to her again). From now on everybody still treats her kind and caring, but keeping a respectful distance.

Taking her right away everywhere with him he makes sure no one touches her, even by accident. In crowded places people make quickly room for them only due to his intimidating, beaming glare, ready to spread some black eyes if somebody should be so stupid to lay their filthy fingers on her.

She asks him why he's doing all that for her but Theo only replies "You can't bear it to be touched, I can't bear to have a sad, whining puppy around me. That's all."

But she realizes real soon that he is a very caring and soft person despite his harsh words.

Taking King out for a walk - "Hondje come with me. You need some fresh air and King likes you, so he might behave a bit when you come with us."

"You don't think you could go to town shopping without me, don't you? You need someone to take you by your leash. I'll come with you. We need more sirup either."

Sharing the love for art he'll even invite her to join him in his search for new talented painters. The more time they spend together, the more she seems to lose her anxiety around him, feeling comfortable in his presence. One evening both strall down the Seine he calls her near "Look at this picture hondje!" He stands close to the canvas, his left hand stroking over the frame. She rushes over to his right side and leans in, her shoulder touching his chest. "This is beautiful, Theo!"

"Yes, it is..." he mumbles into her hair, not sure if he's still talking about the picture, inhaling her sweet scent.

After they both discovered this talented painter Theo invites her the next evening into his favorite bar to celebrate this occasion.

It only takes a few drinks (although the bartender had the instruction to water her drinks down) and she's already tipsy. "Oi, hondje! We should leave now, I don't want to carry you back to the mansion!" She only giggles at this imagination and to his surprise no snubbing remark follows. Leaving the bar she stumbles soon, losing her balance. "Watch out, hondje!" He grabs her by her arm before she could fall to the floor. "Ouh, I feel dizzy Theo... would you mind to take a rest at this bench over there?" Nodding he immediatly leads her over, not letting go of her arm. As they sit down next to each other he mumbles "I hope it was okay to hold you at your arm, but I was afraid..."

She cuts him off, giving him a sweet smile "Nah, it was okay Theo. And at least you didn't have to carry me. I am not that drunk..." suddenly a hickup interrupts her. "Oooh nooo..." she whines.

Theo bursts into laughing "I see..." after a second she joins into his laughter. When the last giggle fades, she closes her eyes, resting her head at his shoulder. "I feel so tired all of a sudden."

"Don't mind. You can rest here with me for a while if you need to." he replies with an unusual soft voice. Very slowly he puts his arm around her, in case she wants to raise an objection. "I am not scared of your touch anymore." She murmurs, "I have to admit I'm really enjoying this right now." her words are almost inaudible while she nuzzles her face at his chest. Theo freezes in disbelief, an unknown warmth spreads through his entire body and his heart feels like bursting, relieved that she can't see the heat in his cheeks. Listening to her steady breathing he knows she fell asleep and he kisses her temple ever so slightly "So I have to carry you nevertheless." he mumbles with a grin. In the future he'd make sure no one ever gets the opportunity to touch her. But from now on his actions comprises a further reason.

Le Comte

He's living for centuries now and is able to read in people's heart almost like in an open book. Le Comte recognizes her reserved way when it comes to physical touch immediatly and invites her to his room for a talk. After he gives her a graceful and encouraging smile she tells him hesitantly about her anxiety, feeling embarressed to tell him about her inner demons.

"Ma cherie, don't feel ashamed. There's no reason for that. I'll ensure that everyone in the mansion respects your fears. And please don't hesitate to talk to me about anything that might concern you. Anytime."

This day all residents have a personal conversation with Le Comte in his room.

He will buy her several pair of exclusive leather gloves, so it might be easier for her to get along with her fear to be touched at her hands.

Knowing that public and crowded places are going hand in hand with the fear of being touched by accident he makes sure that almost everything her heart desires would be delivered into the mansion. A few days after her arrival she stumbles over a bunch of new dresses in her room and quite surprised she asks him how he knows her dress size. With slight flushed cheeks and avoiding her gaze he answers that he only has a good eye. (Liar... he observes her so intensly he could tell how many eyelashes her left eye has even when Sebas would wake him up from his deepest slumber...)

He will gladly take every opportunity talking to her, hoping that knowing each other better will reduce her tension and anxiety. Treating her like a princess with the utmost respect and warmth, she begins to relax in his presence. Strolling with Comte through the garden, taking tea in the gazebo, chatting about nothing and everything. Everytime they spend time together the space between them seems to melt a bit more.  

Taking a walk early through the garden together became a morning routine in the meantime and today it's warm and the sky bright blue. Suddenly King rushes playful towards them and jumps on her, trying to lick over her face. Totally caught offguard she loses her balance and stumbles backwards but le Comte immediatly catches her at the waist. "King, come here you stubborn beast!" Theo yells but King is already rushing further into the mansion. Theo apologizes quickly to them as he runs after his dog. "Are you hurt, ma cherie?" Concern lies in St.Germain's glance and voice. She giggles. "No, I am fine. King is such a cute "beast". Thank you for catching me Comte." At this moment he realizes that his arms are still around her and with an almost inaudible sigh he pulls his hands off her waist. "I am so glad nothing happened to you, ma belle." Then it comes to his mind, that she didn't complain at his touch. She didn't even flinch... pure happiness spreads through every nerve of his body and with a joyful smile on his lips they continue their walk.

A week later the weather ist still nice and warm, so she decides to visit the market place in town, getting some fresh air and maybe some fruits. The market is almost over as she arrives and less crowded. With a happy smile she studies the remaining goods as a salesman appears directly in front of her, eager to sell her one of his scarves. "A little dove like you  should wear a scalf, the wind still can be chilly..." Smiling politely she refuses, but the seller doesn't give up. "Here, this one matches your beautiful eyes" he goes on, his hands almost around her neck with the scarf. She freezes in panic, her face pale with shock as suddenly someone appears behind her, grasping the sellers'hands, holding them away from her neck. "Sir, what do you think you are doing, to harry a young lady like this?" Comte pushes the hands of the seller with one arm away, his other arm already protective around her shaking form. The burning anger in his eyes makes the salesman flee in panic without another word. Comte's gaze softens instantly as his eyes roam over her body with utmost concern. "Cherie, did he hurt you?" Still shaking she replies sobbing "No... It was o- only ..I was only scared he would touch me." Without thinking his grip around her tightens but in the next moment he takes a step away with a flustered expression on his graceful features "I'm begging your pardon, ma cherie, I shouldn't ... It wasn't my intention to embrace you without permission."

Shaking her head softly she closes the gap and leans back into his arms, her voice faint and pleading "Don't worry Comte, I am not scared of your touch anymore. If you don't mind, would you hold me a bit longer? It makes me feel safe." Stunned by her words he softly put his arms around her, his heart swelling with affection. As she rests her cheek against his chest with a sigh he whispers "I would so anything for you, ma cherie. And to hold you in my arms is my greatest pleasure." Slowly she lifts her chin to meet shiny golden eyes, in their dephts swirling so much love, adoration and yearning it takes her breath away. She answers his unspoken question with a lovingly smile.

[lelianasbitch]

Sooo i was just thinking about this, uhm how do I start this

It's spring and reader and Donna is celebrating their first anniversary... They had a picnic near Claudia's grave and yknow things gets a little ✨spicy✨ but Angie interrupted them shouting "There are cats destroying our plants!!!"

That's all😭 stay safe btw hehe

I love you Spicy Anon. At first, I was like “aww” and then when the ✨spicy✨ came I was like oh yes.

Headcanons:

- Angie's made from Claudia's bones and Donna's father gifted Angie to her after he had gone insane with grief and didn't want his only daughter left to be lonely. But Angie and Donna don't know this and think Claudia's body is still in there. Hence why Angie in this mini-fic feels a deep connection to Claudia's grave but can't explain why.

- Donna hates being touched by anyone except those closest to her but is still touch-starved. So, once she’s comfortable and in a relationship with Reader for a long time, she’ll always want to initiate physical touch. Like, a lot.

Important note: I have a weakness for soft dom Donna.

Also, this is my first time really sharing something like this, so I hope it’s good… 👉👈

Thank you Spicy Anon for the ask! I hope you like this.

Here’s a song for this.

Slight NSFW below

“Thank you,” Donna said softly after placing a bouquet of flowers on Claudia’s grave.

She returned to your side, slipping her hand comfortably in yours as the two of you stood before the grave. It was the first time Donna and Angie formally introduced you to Claudia Beneviento and you were utterly grateful and honored to be included in their family. It was a rather momentous day for the both of you as it was your first year together and you knew it was important to Donna to do this. You wanted to show your gratitude and promise Claudia that you’d take care of her little sister, so you gathered some supplies to use to clean her grave. You didn’t let Donna lift a finger and forced her to sit on the picnic blanket you had set up under one of the larger trees for shade. She and Angie watched you work until you waved them over to place the bouquet the three of you had picked from the garden. The grave was no longer covered in dirt or fallen leaves and you had scrubbed it until her name was clean and legible on the stone. You could see tears shimmering in Donna’s eyes as she smiled softly at the grave.

“I’m going to stay for a while,” Angie said, choosing to sit before the grave.

She seemed calmer than usual. These types of changes in her attitude were typically rare and usually reflected what Donna was feeling internally, but the woman reassured you that she was fine. She squeezed your hand and nodded towards the picnic blanket you had set up earlier.

“She likes being with the grave on her own for a bit,” she told you.

You nodded, letting the Lord lead you back to the picnic blanket. It was a decent distance away in the small graveyard, allowing you a bit of privacy with Angie’s back to you. You looked at Donna, catching her staring at you. She looked away shyly, pulling a quiet chuckle from you.

“What is it?” you asked, lifting her hand to your lips to kiss her knuckles. She turned to you as your lips touched her skin, sitting up straighter as her eye lingered on your lips.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You already said that, and you know you never need to thank me. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

She moved closer, turning her body fully towards you. Her cheeks had reddened, and you recognized the flustered look that usually heralded a vulnerable moment where Donna would speak unabashedly.

You love how confident she had become in the year that you had been together. It did not come easy, but after earning her trust, Donna learned to be unafraid about expressing her feelings with you. While she still got flustered, she was a lot more open about her thoughts and seemed to always want to initiate physical contact to further express herself. It was still baffling to think back on the times when she abhorred even brushing shoulders with you. Now, she wanted to hold your hand, cup your cheeks, kiss your lips, and hug you with every chance she got.

“There are truly no words I can think of to say how grateful I am to you,” she said, holding your gaze.

“You already say it in many ways,” you told her, kissing her hand again.

Her lips parted ever so slightly, watching your motions with such intensity. Oh, how you adored that look. The focus, the desire, the adoration, the love. You knew that such simple contact could send her soaring or melting in your arms. To know that it was you that she loved and you alone who had this affect on her was something of a miracle.

She closed the distance between you with an urgency that told you she had been holding back. As soon your lips touched, her impatience was quelled. Everything about Donna in this moment was gentle. From the way she slowly pressed her body against yours, to the way she kissed you sweet and slow, and how her hand moved to carefully cup your cheek. You felt Donna pour herself into every movement and every second she gave to you. Every bit was savored, and you could think of nothing else but her.

You pressed your forehead against hers, panting for air, but she didn’t seem to want to stop. Her hand had moved to the back of your neck as if she feared you’d leave her. She kissed your lips again and again, shorter, and eager, but both of you were still breathless from the initial kiss. The hand that was behind your neck moved to caress your cheek, trace your cheekbone, and brush the swell of your lips that parted for her.

She was on her hands and knees now, one leg between yours, placing both hands on either side of you to balance herself and kiss you again. It was short, but no less powerful than the previous. She continued her motions along the curve of your jaw, murmuring praises against your skin.

“You are so wonderful, my love. So, kind and so beautiful, every inch of you.”

Her voice rumbled so close to your ear. She knew how much you enjoyed the timbre of her lilt. You shivered pleasurably and gripped her collar as her lips found your throat. Your eyes fluttered, struggling to remain open. Feeling flushed, you glanced over to where Angie was, hoping she wouldn’t turn around. The doll remained by the grave, tending to the yellow flowers that surrounded it.

Donna’s hand trailing up your leg pulled your attention away. It slipped underneath your dress as she continued kissing your neck. She took the time to savor how you sighed at her touch and how goosebumps rose beneath her fingertips. When her hand dipped towards your inner thigh and moved closer to your core, she leaned back, smirking. Now it was your turn to be flustered.

Donna glanced over to where Angie was, and you noticed an orange and a black cat emerging from the bushes. They seemed to catch the doll’s attention and would hopefully keep it that was for a while. The Lord turned her gaze back to you, fingers slowly rubbing against the fabric of your panties that were already soaked. A breathy moan escaped you that she quickly silenced with a kiss. When she pulled away, she moved so that her lips were at your ear.

“Quiet, my love,” she said. “As much as I love hearing you, I don’t want this moment to be —”

“THERE ARE CATS DESTROYING OUR PLANTS!” Angie cried.

The two of you quickly pulled apart. Your heart hammered at the fear of being caught and your chest rapidly rose and fell. Donna's face was red from embarrassment as her eye flew wide open. You both looked towards the doll who was screaming at the cats that were rolling around on the flowers. Donna groaned, frowning at having your moment ruined, but you couldn’t help but laugh. She pouted at you but couldn’t keep it for long as she gave a reluctant, shy smile, that eventually gave way for a laugh of her own.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Home Again

Prompt: Domestic bliss/a day in the life (Content Challenge Day 2)

Pairing: Haldir x Female Reader

Rating: T

Word count: 2164

Warnings: Maybe I pushed the ‘T’ rating a little. There’s nakedness but like...tasteful nakedness? Also lots of kissing. And suggestions. And so much fluff. 

A/n Welcome to Day 2 of my content challenge! You can find the challenge’s masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. Happy reading :) 

Light shines into my closed eyes, and, mumbling in annoyance, I roll over, smushing my face into the pillow.

The ellon to my left chuckles warmly, wrapping an arm around my waist. “No, no, meleth nîn. Now that I know you are awake, I shan’t let you escape my attentions.”

I laugh as Haldir leans over me and peppers my face and neck with tiny kisses, encouraging me to roll onto my back. After much giggling and futile attempts to return to sleep, I comply, allowing him to kiss me fully on the lips. I sigh into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to me.

“I’ve missed this,” I breathe, closing my eyes when Haldir places a gentle kiss on my collarbone. “Three months is too long.”

At this, he raises his head, showing me the apology in his eyes “I know. I am sorry for leaving you for such a time, but I cannot ask it of my wardens and not hold myself to the same standard.”

I take one of his hands in mine, fiddling with his fingers. “You are much too honorable for my liking, Marchwarden.”

His playfulness from earlier returns, and he wraps his arms under my back. “I take offense! I shall have to prove to you that I am no such ellon.” With that, he releases his knees, dropping his full weight on top of me.

“Haldir,” I laugh, trying to push him off of me. “You must move, I cannot breathe!”

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, and I feel his smile against my skin. “Now what were you saying? I doubt an honorable ellon would try to squish his wife.”

“I shall have you arrested for attempted murder,” I gasp, elbowing him in the ribs and kicking at his shins.

He grins languidly, but relieves the pressure on me slightly. “And who is going to carry out this arrest? I am, as you say, the Marchwarden of this realm.” He raises a haughty eyebrow. “And I have no intention of incarcerating myself.”

I bump my nose against his, earning myself a soft smile. “Then it seems I shall have to lock you up.”

Haldir’s lips drop to mine, and he kisses me with a passion that has me quite willing to stay in this bed all day. “Such promises she makes,” he teases, and then seems to reign himself in. With a final, much more innocent kiss, he rises to his knees, offering me a hand. “Would you like breakfast?”

I enjoy my first full breath in minutes and take his hand, following him out of the bedroom. “You have been at the borders for three months. Sit, and let me cook for you.”

He does as he’s bid and, while I gather ingredients, he perches on one of the high stools that faces into kitchen. He does not stay on his side of the counter long, though, and soon wraps his arms around my waist, holding me closely against him as I cook.

There’s a knock on the door and Haldir and I exchange questioning looks. With a raised eyebrow, he releases me and walks through the talan to the front door. It’s not long before I hear the jovial greetings of Orophin and Rumil, and, smiling to myself, I retrieve two more plates from the cabinet.

Haldir enters the kitchen, his younger brothers in tow. “Do you mind, my love?”

“Not at all,” I grin, pulling the ellyn in for hugs.

“Of course she minds,” Rumil laughs, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before sitting on a stool. “Her husband only just got back last night, and now she’s got a kitchen full of guests. I’m sure she’d much rather be f—”

I hurry to interrupt the youngest of the three, carefully placing some fruit on his plate. “You know you are both welcome here any time, I—”

“Relax, Y/n,” Orophin laughs, holding up a hand to stop my protests. “Rumil and I do not plan to stay long. We only wanted to see our brother, make sure he’s in one piece.”

“And have breakfast,” Rumil declares, mouth full of bread. Haldir rolls his eyes and darts a quick hand out to shove Rumil’s head towards the counter. Rumil only just keeps his head from connecting with the wood, and ducks around Haldir’s outstretched arm to push at his chest.

“Enough,” I laugh, sitting down with my own plate. The two eye each other with amused suspicion, but otherwise obey.

The four of us inevitably get on the topic of Haldir’s time away, and he regals us with the more entertaining stories from the borders. Before we know it, the morning has passed us by, and Orophin and Rumil must rush away to attend to their duties.

Haldir closes the door behind them, then pulls me into his arms. “Thank you for putting up with them.”

I snort and lay my head against his chest. “You know I love them.”

We stay there for a few minutes, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Haldir eventually pulls back and pushes me in the direction of our bedroom. “Change into something suitable for hiking. I’m taking you to the woods.”

I do as requested, rolling my eyes as I go. “You ask so politely.”

“It’ll be worth it,” he calls after me, and, because I can hear the excitement in his voice, I decide to believe him.

{***}

Two hours later and we are still walking.

“You know, I was only joking this morning, but now I think you might actually be trying to kill me,” I huff, struggling up the millionth hill of our hike.

My husband only laughs, reaching for my hand. “We are minutes away, meleth.”

To his credit, Haldir was right. Not five minutes later, the ‘trail’ ends and we stand on a cliff, overlooking a deep pond. I glance between Haldir and the water in delight — he knows how much I love a swim. “How did you find this?”

He shrugs like it’s nothing, though his chest puffs out. “I came across it during a scouting excursion a few weeks ago. I’ve been thinking of taking you here ever since.”

“I’m grateful,” I smile, leaning my back against his chest and pulling his arms to encircle me. He tightens his grip and starts a trail of lingering kisses up and down my neck. “It’s the perfect day, too,” I mumble weakly. The sun is shining, the air is hot, and a dip in the cool, clear water is just what I need.

I notice, perhaps belatedly, that neither of us brought proper swimming attire.

But it seems Haldir has planned for that.

He doesn’t stop his kisses when he speaks against my neck. “Take off your clothes.”

I let my eyes flutter shut. The sound of his voice and the way he sucks on my pulse point leaves me with no desire to protest. I pull at the ties on my tunic, and he follows suit. Soon, we are both undressed completely, standing naked in the shining sun.

Haldir pulls my mouth back to his, and, absently, I remember that, though we are in a secluded area, the woods is not necessarily private. “This area is unknown?”

His lips twitch against mine, and he pulls back so I can see his assured smile. “No one is around. No one will know we are here.”

That’s good enough for me. I wrap my arms around my husband’s neck and move to kiss him again, but he scoops me up in his arms, grinning wickedly.

Oh no. “Haldir-”

With a confidence that’s both infuriating and wildly attractive, he winks…

And steps off the cliff.

The water is much colder than I imagined, and I shriek the moment it touches my skin. Haldir finds this quite amusing, though I note with a smirk of satisfaction that a shiver runs up his own spine.

Not so invincible.

With that in mind, I wriggle out of his arms and splash as much water as I possibly can in his direction.

For a moment, he looks so utterly betrayed that I feel a twinge of guilt.

But then he lunges me, and all sympathy disappears.

He grips my shoulders firmly and shoves me under the water. He lets me up almost immediately, but the damage is done.

He’s submerged me in the freezing water twice already, and I cannot let that go.

I jump at him, but his skills on the battlefield apparently apply also to water fights, and he is much too quick for me. He places one arm behind my back and the other behind my legs and brings me into his arms, cradling me against his chest—despite my struggles.

“There, there,” he laughs over my protests. “Deep breaths now.”

I glower at him and manage to get a hand free, splashing a spout of water into his face. He raises an eyebrow, replacing his carefree laughter with the trademark Marchwarden Stoicism.

“Is that the best you’ve got?”

I lift my own eyebrow, meeting his challenge. “Release me and find out.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but the wind rustles the leaves, and he tenses.

I freeze against him, knowing Haldir well enough to see that, in the slight noise from the moving greenery, he has found cause for concern.

“What is it,” I whisper, but he raises a hand, cautioning for silence. I purse my lips together and strain my ears, trying to hear the forest as he does. Centuries in the trees have made him hyper-sensitive to every rock, leaf, animal — and intruder.

I gulp, tightening my grip on his shoulders.

Without warning, Haldir plunges me into the water once again, and I sputter, finding myself pressed against the cool skin of his back.

“M-Marchwarden,” a voice stutters out.

Oh Valar.

I’m suddenly painfully aware of how naked I am.

“Erlan,” Haldir sighs, giving the young ellon a displeased stare.

I recognize the name. Erlan is the newest member of Lothlórien’s Guard, only just having come of age some twenty years ago. Haldir says he is inexperienced, but shows promise, and frequently does week-long stints as part of the forest patrol.

“I-I am so sorry, Marchwarden. I did not mean—” While the elf stumbles over his words, Haldir tries to discreetly lower his hands to cover the essentials, but the movement draws Erlan’s eyes. Realizing what he’s doing, Erlan jerks his head upwards, staring safely at the sky. “Oh my, I am so—”

“Just leave, Erlan,” Haldir grits out, the pink twinge to his cheeks slightly damaging his commanding tone.

Erlan tries for a respectful bow, but as he bends, his eyes lock with mine and he yelps, straightening quickly. Haldir shifts to block me completely from view, raising an arm in Erlan’s direction. “Go!”

Erlan nearly runs into a tree in his haste to escape, and the hilarity of the situation overrides any embarrassment I might feel. I laugh, wrapping my arms around Haldir’s middle, encouraging him to turn in my arms. He does so, though his eyes scan our surroundings suspiciously.

To distract him from his anger, I press kisses to his chest, and, eventually he relaxes in my arms. Once I know his ire has passed, I rest my chin against his sternum, looking up at him with a wide grin. “I thought you said no one would find us.”

He fixes me with an unimpressed glare, the redness returning to his cheeks. “I will be speaking with him first thing tomorrow morning. His observation skills are—”

“Still in progress,” I interject, dragging my hands up his chest until I reach his shoulders. “Go easy on the poor ellon.” Using my grip, I pull myself up, wrapping my legs around his hips.

This seems to put him in a much more favorable mood, and he hums softly, laying his head against my shoulder. “I suppose you’re right. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Exactly,” I smile, pleased that I still have the ability to distract him like this even after a century of marriage. “Though I do believe that no one will be intruding upon us now, since Erlan is there to warn them.” I brush my lips against his shoulder, hinting at my intentions.

“My, you are smart,” his chuckle rumbles against me, and I dip my head to meet the lips that soon quirk teasingly against mine. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

I pull back, leveling him with a glare that rivals his own.

He attempts to school his expression, though he retains a mocking glint in his eye. “Intelligent and terrifying. I think I’ve hit the jackpot.”

I dip a hand into the water and flick it back towards his face, effectively wiping away his smug expression. “Do shut up.”

Laughing once more, he pulls me back to him, picking up where we left off.

I love having him home.

Even if I definitely plan on half-drowning him before we leave.

A/n So does anyone else adore Haldir, or is it just me? 

Likes, comments, and reblogs mean the world to me! Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added to a tag list :) If you have any questions about the challenge, feel free to message me/submit an ask!

Challenge participants*: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande

*As far as I know. Please let me know if I’ve missed someone!!!