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b-1327-1 · 4 months

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Letters to My Love

Fandom: Lord Of The Rings Return of the King

Pairing: Haldir x fem!reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, kissing, awful sugary fluff (I need a happy ending as life is a blackhole of existential dread).

Summary: You leave Lórien after spending time recuperating to visit your friend Eowyn and promise to send word back to your friend Haldir. Though you think of him more than that, does he feel the same though?

Word count: 6040

Comments: More Haldir for the Haldir throne! First longer piece in the LOTR fandom. Hopefully I've kept Haldir relatively in character. Thank you to @heilith for the encouragement and motivation to finish this and post. You're a wonderful inspiration.

Putting your quill down you stare at the ink now drying. Reading it over you frowned in concentration, trying to make sure there was a tone of friendship without any of your clear desire bleeding through. Friendly and precise was the aim as always in your now routine one sided correspondence. It was getting increasingly difficult with each letter though to tow that line especially with who the recipient was.

You look at the envelope already set aside, Marchwarden Haldir in your neatly block printed handwriting followed by the address; it always gives you a small rush even to write his name.

You had left Lórien after promising Eowyn to visit her and her new betrothed and not wanting to outstay your welcome with your Elven hosts you had set off as soon as you were well enough to ride alone. But it had been a bittersweet parting. Of course you had wanted to come and congratulate your friend on her new love but you felt loath to leave the peaceful forest, and your new friends.

Haldir had asked you to send word that you were safe when you had left Lórien, your logical mind telling you that it was out of friendship, but the slight frown as he had softly requested it had made your breathing hitch. It almost seemed for a moment as if he had been nervous to ask. The usual stoic mask he wore as Marchwarden slipped if but for a split second under the morning sun.

*****

"I promise my friend." You had replied after climbing on your horse smiling gently. After all it was the least you could do after being able to rest and recuperate after the battle with Sauron in the beautiful sanctuary of Lórien.

You tried to ignore the traitorous voice in the back of your head whispering that you were a coward and running away.

Gripping the reins tightly till your knuckles went white you swallowed hard. The growing feelings you had developed for the ellon in front of you were pushed down and sitting uncomfortable in your chest waiting to crawl up your throat and crow out to the world.

Haldir had stood by your horse, hand on its neck stroking it softly as he went quiet, the morning breeze stirring his immaculate hair. It had seemed to you he had wanted to say something, his brows drawn into a small frown that you didn’t know when you had started to recognise.

“You must promise me to be safe, the roads are still dangerous,” He had spoken eventually into the horse's neck, fidgeting with a lock of its mane. You had opened your mouth to try to defend your skills but the words choked in your throat, your mouth shut promptly at the way his hand stilled with its incessant action. His head turned suddenly to you and the frown had deepened.

“I do not doubt your skill,” He continued and he pressed closer to you, his blue eyes boring into your own. “Just promise me to be watchful.” Haldir finished, his free hand moved to your calf for a brief moment of contact but enough to feed your hunger for him.

His gaze struck you dumb, a heat rising to your cheeks. All you could do was nod mutely in return, the blue of his eyes usually clear as the summer sky were troubled and stormy. Was the thought of your safety that important to him? Perhaps he thought of you also as more of a friend?

A watery smile tugged at your lips at the possibility, a foolish notion to be sure for someone so perfect to find attraction in the imperfections of a mortal such as yourself. You leaned down and the bittersweetness of causing him concern selfishly comforted you slightly in that you were not alone in the emotion when he had parted from you to go on patrols. Now before him, you missed him so and you had not even left his presence.

“I promise you Haldir,” You had spoken softly, proud that there was no wobble to your tone as you reached out and grasped his shoulder. Those blue eyes cleared of the storm for a moment.

“I will write every time I stop, you shall receive so many letters you will regret asking me,” you tried laughing and you saw the corner of his lips curled up slightly. “You shall receive so many you will have to clear a bookcase to house them.” You giggled lightly at the image and he gave a breathy laugh that sounded more like a relieved exhale. His hand returned to your calf and squeezed lightly.

“I shall clear two.” He stated with the deadpan tone that you have come to crave. Tilting your head you stared at him a moment to engrave the way the sunlight played across his face, it lit the blue of his eyes in a blinding shade that you would willingly go sightless staring at. He seemed to be watching you just as carefully and you smiled softly at him, in the way that only he provoked from you.

“Just as well, Rúmil and Orophin have gifted me enough supplies to paper your flet.” You smirked and watched as the mention of his brothers made Haldir grimace a moment. The hand on your calf moved to your hand resting on his shoulder.

“Best to put them to good use then, I shall hear no end of it if you do not.” Haldir had spoke in that exasperated tone he always used when speaking of his younger brothers. You couldn’t help the grin on your face though at the twitch of a smile on his lips that always betrayed his tone.

A tightness in your chest returned then, you would miss them all, Rúmil and Orophin never failing to make you laugh at their antics. Their merciless teasing of Haldir stretched now to you in a way that gave you a sense of pride that the brothers felt comfortable enough to torment you.

Haldir's hand was warm against your own, the rough callous of his fingers a seductive rasp against your responsive skin. Goosebumps danced up your arm at the contact. Your gazes met again and a heavy silence fell over you both. The cool breeze in the trees whispered around you as the heat from earlier played across your cheeks again.

Parting from him shouldn’t give you such pain, but knowing you would wake up the next morning not being able to see his face made your stomach turn in unease. Goodbyes were never such a heartbreak for you before with a life constantly on the road but now? Here where the breeze was sweet in your nose and the warm sun dappled on your skin this was a place that finally felt like a home now despite being a mere mortal.

You let your eyes lower as you don’t want Haldir to see the sadness in your gaze, not when you were parting like this.

“Promise me you will stay safe also Haldir.” You whispered, his fingers had flinched when you spoke his name.

“I promise.” Haldir stated resolutely. Slowly raising yourself straight in the saddle you reluctantly withdrew your hand from his shoulder. Haldir stood watching you again with that inscrutable look for a heartbeat before raising a hand to his chest in a farewell gesture.

You mimic the gesture and force a smile on your face though you can feel the burn of tears behind it.

“Farewell Marchwarden Haldir.” You spoke, the forced smile started to crack. Moving your horse forward through the forest you had felt eyes watching you the whole time and knew it wasn’t your imagination.

*****

A knock and giggle from behind you snapped your mind to the present again as the door to your room opened.

Twisting around you see the familiar face of the servant girl Molly bustles in. Turning back you frown and rest your fingers on the letter in front of you again. Sighing softly you look out the window of your guest room in Minas Tirith. The sun starting to set it lit up the city below, throwing shadows across the stone you mind wanders off to tall trees and blue eyes.

Lazily leaning on your hand the picture of Haldir gazing at you plays across your mind again. You had never seen a more perfect colour of blue than his eyes. No sky, ocean or flower could come close to his piercing gaze. It had not taken you long to understand it was not just the colour but the soul behind the eyes that made them so alluring. You felt a pull to him from the moment the two of you had met.

You counted yourself lucky that Haldir had given you the opportunity to become close. Though the act of saving the others' life in heavy battles, had helped forge a bond between you and the handsome ellon. It was he who had invited you to stay with him after Aragon's coronation having now no fixed plans. Your old companions had teased you mercilessly after finding out.

"An invitation from the Marchwarden himself? A rare thing indeed." Aragon had asked with a large grin and a wink making flushed heat rush from head to toe as you stood beside the elf. Stealing a glance up at him you had noticed the twitch in Haldir's jaw.

You hear Molly clear her throat behind you and you blink away the memory.

“Sorry for disturbing you m’lady would you like me to lay your dress out?” Her warm voice makes you shake your thoughts.

Turning around again you face her smiling, glad of her company.

“Yes please and tell me any new gossip.” You grin. Molly clicks her tongue but throws a smile back at you.

“Of course, you need new material for your letter to your friend?” She asks but the sly look and emphasis on “friend” makes you glance at the floor as you try to squash the girlish giggle.

“I enjoy his company, he’s a very interesting person.” You try to insist as Molly opens the wardrobe and with an expert eye pulls out a long gown.

“Of course he is,” She replies, her dark eyes are warm and clearly don’t believe you. “I caught a glimpse of him at the Kings coronation,” Molly continued plucking out accessories. Turning to you she raised an eyebrow and tried to look serious. “He looked very interesting.” She teased lightly.

“Oh stop you.” You grouse half heartedly. Standing up you make your way over to the bed and trail your fingers over the fine gown laid out. Surely it was a little over the top for a small party? You go to voice this but stop yourself after all Molly knows more than you ever could about court protocol and the younger woman had been a godsend in helping you navigate the intricate politics thus far.

“Does he answer back?” The other woman asks innocently. You stand over the dress still and go silent. Noticing your actions Molly turns from the hair pins laid out and tentatively steps over.

That was the thing, the thing that hit you like a gut punch and made you lie awake at night. All the letters you had written over the weeks you had not received any in return. You didn’t want to admit the thought made you not sleep for the last couple of weeks though the results were clear every time you saw your reflection.

“No.” You reply still gazing at the dress. Focusing on the delicate embroidery of flowers and vines it made you think of lush forests and your stomach lurched. You felt Mollys body hover near you.

“I’m sure he’s just been busy m’lady.” She voiced softly.

“Yes, he has a lot of responsibilities.” You say carefully, feeling your throat constrict around the words. You hoped that was the case, he was on a long patrol and couldn’t write back. But what if he had been hurt or what if he just didn’t want to indulge a silly human and her infatuation? You clasp a hand to your chest at the dull ache hiding behind your ribs at the thought. Perhaps it was time to stop the letters.

A hand drifted over your arm gently luring you away as the door knocked again.

“Come m’lady the bath is here then let's get you ready.”

You hum in agreement as the bedroom door opens and two other servants carry in a tub with jugs of hot water.

“Where is Eowyn?” You ask out of reflex, speaking to her always lifts your heart.

“Lady Eowyn went riding earlier. I’m sure she is getting ready now for tonight.”

You hum again, tonight’s party was to be a smaller affair. You hoped that it was for an announcement between Eowyn and Faramir’s wedding date. The way the two of them looked at each other, if they didn’t get married soon you were sure they would be announcing something other than a wedding.

The bath is quickly set up and Molly closes the bedroom door softly behind the other servants, before coming back over. The scent of lavender and honey drifts over from the tub of water. Scents that should give you some comfort but the icy claws of doubt have struck deep in your chest.

“May I help you with your dress?” She asks, her hands neatly folded in front of her.

You nod silently still looking at the flowers on the dress, it was a beautiful gown gifted by Eowyn for tonight. Raising your hands to your face you pinch your cheeks lightly, this was no face for a party. Seeing your old companions would cheer you up, you were sure of it.

*****

The stone of the balcony was cold to your touch as you clutched in the night air. You had left the party and wandered outside to take a breath of fresh air, the ballrooms' heat with the tight corset of the dress you were wearing was not a happy match.

Earlier thoughts of distracting your mind with the welcomed company of your friends had worked for a little while. But after some time the world had seemed to shift, you were watching them laugh and dance as if you were looking through a window from outside. You felt an outsider lost, alone and unbearable cold in this sweltering hall. Taking your goblet you nodded to the others and whispered to Eowyn you needed a breath of air, her bright eyes had glanced at the closed main door before nodding her response.

“You look beautiful tonight.” She had whispered to you.

“I look tired.” You retorted. Her gaze is quick and sharp, little escaped her notice.

“Does something ail you?” Eowyn asked and you tried to open your mouth but one look into her eyes and you stopped. That knowing gaze, a mixture of sympathy and pity. You let a bitter smile twist on your face.

“Am I that obvious?” You asked and hoped the others wouldn’t come and pry. You know they mean well but the thought of having to talk about it fills you with an exhaustive dread.

“Only to me,” She said softly and made a show of smiling brightly, fingers running over the sleeve of your gown, pretending to comment on it. “I know that look too well my sister in arms,” You can ‘t help but smile at the honour of her calling you that. “I know because I wore it’s mirror image not that long ago.”

Leaning close she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek she whispered softly making you close your eyes tight to shut out the threat of tears.

“I will see you happy again sister.” She finished, your closed eyes fluttered and missed the furtive glance she gave the door again.

“I’ll be back soon. I just need a moment to myself.” You said leaning back. Seeing her smile and nod, you had walked out.

Closing your eyes you feel the night air cool the sweat beading at your hairline after being in that ballroom. The heady scent of honeysuckle makes you dizzier than the wine at your elbow. The city beyond was quiet at this height, the twinkling lights below like stars. Perhaps you could make your life here now? You would be welcomed for sure. You should stop writing the letters now, let Haldir go, it could never work. He only saw you as a friend, a comrade in arms. Not as a woman, not as an equal in soul.

Perhaps that was for the best, with how short a mortal could live compared to the age that elves did it would be selfish of you to ask for that love from him knowing it would be a blink of his eye and you would be old and grey. That you would be dead and dust and he would have to live on with that grief.

No this would be for the best then. You nodded to yourself and picked up the wine to take a sip. Lost in your own thoughts you never notice the presence of someone approaching behind.

"Hiril vuin," comes a familiar voice from the shadows and you feel your breath hitch. Turning slowly you grip the goblet in your hand till your knuckles hurt, it can't be him? You're tired and thoughts are just added surely?

Silhouetted in the doorway stands a tall broad chested figure. The moonlight catches his features as he takes a step closer and whispers your name.

"Haldir?" You call with a pitiful whisper, praying you were not dreaming.

"Good evening," he says, all shadow and silver light.

You can't help but give an incredulous laugh and confused smile.

"I can't believe it!" You cry with a catch in your voice. "Am I dreaming?" You ask the night air as he moves to stand in front of you.

"I'm very real." he replies, smiling gently. The blond ellon is just as tall and perfect as you remember, dressed in his grey grab as Marchwarden. Reaching out a hand you let your fingertips graze his chest and sweep up to rest on his shoulder. There's a near perceptible shiver that runs through him at the physical contact. He watches you carefully, seemingly finding your giddy wonder amusing.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, still not fully convinced this is a fanciful hallucination brought on by drink and the heat.

He raises a perfect eyebrow and paces a hand on your own that is still on his chest.

“I was invited and I came for an important task.” He responds, his voice low and calming as if to soothe an excitable child. Perhaps that’s what he saw you as. The thought makes the smile slip from your face and you try to pull away but his grip on your hand stops you. You pause and look at him quizzically.

“Important task?” You ask and he nods.

“Yes but now is not the moment to talk of it.”

You press closer to him and let your trapped hand splay across the broad expanse of his chest. You can almost feel the quick thrumming of his heart, perhaps he arrived in a hurry.

“Aragon and the others are inside if it is that important.” You say and his expression gives nothing away. His eyes make you shiver though. The blue you love is a thin ring of silver in the moonlight, blond lashes catch the light like gossamer. This close you fancy you can see your desire for him in your own eyes reflected in his blown out pupils. The black expanse drawing you in.

Your earlier sensible thoughts of moving on from him are promptly forgotten now, you are a mere moth to the radiance that pours off him. It was foolish to ever think you could extract yourself from him.

“Calad nin.” He whispers and his free hand reaches out carefully to touch your shoulder. The meaning of his words are not lost on you, you wonder if he could hear your thoughts about being drawn to his light. For surely he does not feel the same as you do.

“I have missed you.” You confess and the tell of his lips curling slightly makes you want to reach out and trace it. Engrain it in your memory till you can always feel it at your tips.

“As I have missed you.” He replies and the words alone make you grin wildly.

“You have?”

“You doubt me?” He retorts with a quirk of an eyebrow in a mockery of admonishment.

“Never.” You breathe out, a giggle escaping in the process, and fling yourself at him, clutching at him tightly. Your carefully pinned hair is surely a mess but you'll face Molly’s scolding later for wrecking her hard work.

It takes a moment before he responds. A strong arm wraps around you and drags you closer till you’re not sure where you start and he ends. If only it could always be like this. The evening wind whistles against the unforgiving stone as the two of you stand still clutched at each other.

“Did you get my letters?” You ask eventually breathing in his scent. The fresh smell of woodland and sandalwood makes you relax.

“Yes.” He responds, his arm around your waist has moved to the small of your back running his fingertips where your spine is hiding under the corset. Not moving your head you run your fingers over the edge of his robe.

“You never replied.” You say in a small voice you barely recognise as your own. You feel a sense of accomplishment you have kept out the hurt or accusation from the tone.

“When you left,” He started and then with a little protest from you he pulls you back a little so that he could see your face. “I was sent on patrol for a few weeks, you’re letters were passed on to me when they could but,” And he pauses and looks over you from head to toe as if only realising your state of dress.

“You are truly a sight to behold,” He breathes out like a prayer. You grip his arms and feel the heat from your face rush below. Twisting your fingers in the bulky sleeves of his tunic you wet your bottom lip and don’t miss the narrow of his eyes on the action.

“You were saying?” You asked and tugged in his sleeves.

“Yes,” He continues and he looks momentarily embarrassed that he had his previous statement aloud. “I was on patrol till only a few days ago and my own stationary supply was very limited and couldn’t send my replies back,” He releases you a moment and digs into a pocket within the recesses of his robes.

Letting go of his arms you fiddle with the sleeve of your gown as he extracts a bundle. Haldir passes it over to you solemnly like a great treasure and to you it is. Wrapped neatly with a green ribbon is a small stack of envelopes. You take them reverently and hold them in both hands. Your name is written neatly in a precise, strong hand that fits Haldir well.

“You replied.” You say out loud as the doubts and heartbreak of unrequited affection are doused.

“Did you think I would not?” He says and this time there is a tone of reproach to him.

“I- I know how busy you are, important,” You start and he takes a step forward to you as you stare at the bundle of letters not trusting yourself to be able to stop crying in relief if you look at him.

“With responsibilities other than replying to my silly letters.” You choke out and you curse yourself for getting so emotional. His hands are suddenly on your own cupping the letters between you both. The calluses on his fingertips trace up to your wrists causing another flush of heat to pool below.

“Nothing about you is silly.” He tells you and you close your eyes as his thumbs stroke across the pulse in your wrist. Eru, the things the ellon did to you with such a simple touch.

“I feel it at times when it comes to you,” You say softly. “A silly human yearning for your attention.” His hands still and you bite your lip. You’ve gone too far. The hands on your wrist slide with deliberate slow ease, an illicit seductiveness.

“Look at me,” He commands and you lift your head immediately, your breath catches in your throat at his look. Silver hair and intense eyes as he moves a step closer making you tilt your head back to look up at him and keep eye contact.

“There you are,” He speaks and his voice is low like a purr. “I will only say this once, I never want you to put yourself down because you are human.”

You nod softly and bite your lip.

“The things you do to me,” He mutters. “The way you move me,”

One of his hands trails up to your jaw tracing along it. All you can do is let out a soft whimper at the contact. “No one else has been able to do so in all my years, regardless of who or where they were born.” His thumb moves to swipe over your bottom lip.

“But I have only a short number of years Haldir compared to you. If we,” And you pause now not sure how to word your thoughts.

“If we?” He asks provocatively.

“If we are together,” You continue and heat rushes to your face and down below at what that implies and he hums deep in his chest at the word. “How could I sleep with you beside me knowing the inevitability of what will happen to us? Of leaving you begrudgingly alone and I am nothing but bone and dust?” You raise one of your hands to cup his jaw and he leans into it his warm lips as they press against the delicate skin of your inner wrist. Goosebumps ripple along your arm and across your collarbone.

“Has this been troubling you?” He asks and rubs his nose to nuzzle your pulse.

You nod again as his gaze watches you carefully.

“I wish you had spoken to me sooner so I could ease your mind,” He states. “It is the nature of things that we will die.” He states calmly.

“But,” You start.

“Maybe it will be I who dies first.” He interrupts you.

“Haldir, that’s not funny.” You scold but he only looks at you with a flicker of surprise.

“I was trying to flatter you.”

“Flattery is telling me how pretty I look in this dress, not that there’s a chance you will leave me a grieving heartbroken woman.” You retort hotly and he presses his lips to the pounding pulse under your skin and smiles.

“You're breathtaking in that dress.” He corrects you.

“Haldir,” You start and his lips twitch into that smile.

“And when you’re angry,” He adds and you look at him with what can only be exasperation.

“You are not alone with those thoughts, I spent a long time thinking of the exact same thing.’ He continues and the irritation subsides in you.

“And?” You say almost frightened at what his conclusion is.

He still has your hand and leans into its touch, closing his eyes a second seeming to savour it.

“That a life without you would grieve me more,” Haldir speaks softly. “In all my years I have given myself freely to the responsibilities of my position as an older brother then Marchwarden, it is something I will not ever regret,” His eyes open and flick to you and his a chaste brush of his lips to your fingertips he pulls your hand back to the letters you are both still holding. “Till I met you, grew to know you. I have never wanted anything for myself,” You watch his expression shift from contemplative to resolute.

“Neither of us knows the future and how long we have,” Haldir pauses. “But I do know that the future is meaningless without knowing your love. I shall continue to exist but it shall only be that.” He brings both your hands up to rest on his chest above his heart.

“A song does not last forever but to experience it let it live in you is what makes us alive, though we may mourn it’s end,” Haldir leans down so his nose rubs against your own softly and now it’s your turn to close your eyes to savour the action.

“So will you take a chance and let us sing this song of ours together?” He whispers to you and you let your eyes flutter open. It should be intimidating to see his trademark intense gaze but it only makes your lip wobble and eyes fill with hot tears of happiness.

You move one of your hands from his grip and reach up to his jaw, fingers caressing it and watch as it tenses under your touch. You let it linger before following the line of Haldir's throat, his adam's apple bobbing as your fingers touch his jugular. You can feel his own heartbeat race under your skin.

“Yes Haldir.” You answer and his impassive mask breaks as he smiles as though he wasn’t sure you would agree.

“Yes?” He asks and exhales, letting his shoulders drop with a short soft laugh.

“Yes Marchwarden.” You repeat and close your eyes to let out a small giggle as he pulls you against him again. His arm tightens around your waist as he buries his nose in your hair. Your free hand wraps around his neck as you move your face to press a soft kiss to his jaw. Haldir lets out a low sound that vibrates through you and makes your toes curl. Moving slightly he presses his lips to your ear making you tremble.

“You shiver, are you cold?" He asks, his voice low and lilting.

"No it's not the cold that makes me shiver." You say and turn to meet his gaze. Those ice blue eyes are burning and you revel in the fire.

Haldir's arm runs up your back as he mutters words in Sindarin too quickly for you to catch. His hand stops at the nape of your neck before cupping the base of your skull. His breath fans your cheeks and you close your eyes in anticipation of the handsome ellons kiss. Your ellon now, you licked your bottom lip at the realisation.

There was a brief heartbeat before you felt his chapped lips brush against your own. The chaste action made you mewl softly and you felt the low groan from him before he pressed closer. His plush lips unforgiving against your own as you kissed back desperately. Your arm moves to loop around his neck to tug on his long hair and you're rewarded with a grunt and sigh from Haldir as he nips at your bottom lip. Sighing with content you grant him access to your own mouth which he ravishes with the keen precision he does in everything.

You tug on his hair again and let out your own soft moan as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper. Both of you are teeth and tongue as you scrabble for one another. There’s a far away cheering and laughing over the start of a song that startles you both apart.

You try to catch your breath but it’s difficult when you're tangled with Haldir in his vice-like grip. He’s gazing at you again with a softness that makes your chest feel like it will burst.

“If this is a dream don’t wake me.” You state to the universe and Haldir's lip curls slightly softening his usual steely expression.

"It should be I who asks if you are the dream." He finishes.

"Why is that?" You say, your fingers moving from his hair to graze his jaw.

"Standing in the moonlight is how I often dream of you." He murmurs and nuzzles against your cheek.

“And tell me, what do we do in these dreams, Marchwarden?” You tease and let out a breathy laugh as he lets out a shaky exhale.

“I would rather show you dearest.” He mutters his voice dark and delicious as his arm moves so his fingers hold your hip tight.

The sound of laughing and music fades back in again interrupting

“Maybe we should wait till we’re sure we won’t be interrupted?” You ask your throat going dry at the thought of being alone and playing out your own dreams with him. You hear him agree and press a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

Pulling back from each other you run a hand over your hair to try and see if it can be saved and do a half hearted attempt at fixing it. You had all you needed now, you could stand to play a little loose with propriety. Smoothing your gown down, you glance up to see him standing watching you with what only could be described as wolfishness that sent your pulse racing again. You reached up and smoothed his own hair and gasped as he grabbed your wrist.

“Haldir?” You ask as he presses his lips against your wrist again.

“Your pulse flutters like a bird.” He states calmly.

“And who’s fault is that?” You accuse him which only makes him smile longingly at you.

“I shall bear the responsibility, I apologise I needed something to sustain me a while till we could be alone again.” He reports so matter of factly it makes you grin.

“And when shall I have time to read your replies my dearest?” You laugh and Haldir pauses a moment.

“That was the important matter I came here to discuss.” He tells you calmly and you frown.

“What is it?” You ask concerned. He steps closer again and brushes the back on his fingers against your hand which you immediately turn your own hand to clutch on to.

“On a desperate matter of if you should feel ready to return with me.” He whispers softly, leaning down so he is eye level with you.

“Return to Lórien?” You ask with a quiet excitement as he nods.

“To return home meleth nin.” He says and watches your reaction. You blink a moment as the words sink in.

Home.

Hot tears fall immediately but Haldir is already holding your face gently and wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Meleth nin?” He asks all serious and alarm. You can’t help but give a gasping laugh which makes him relax again.

“Of course I shall you silly ellon,” You mutter and close your eyes as he kisses you again though softly as if to remind himself you are truly saying those words. “I love you after all.” You confess and you feel his smile against your lips.

“I love you too.” He whispers then says something soft in Sindarian which you need no translation for.

A loud applause erupts from inside as the music finishes.

“We should go back inside, I need to speak to Eowyn,” You say and pull back holding his hand to trail after you to the inside door. Pausing, you look at him, grinning wide and ecstatic.

“I shall tell her I am needed and will be going home soon.” You explain with a mock primness. He glances down and in the moonlight you swear it almost seems he is blushing.

“Yes, you are very much needed.” He agrees with such solemnity. But even in this light you can see his telltale twitch of lips.

“After all, I have important correspondence to catch up on.” You murmur with a happy smile as you press the letters close to your heart.

Haldir smiles warmly and presses a kiss to your hand before letting go and stepping close.

“I shall clear another bookcase at home for them all meleth nin.” He whispers with a smile.

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b-1327-1 · 4 months

Text

back on my Haldir binge

Three Weeks on the Nimrodel

Well, here it is. My first (and oldest) piece of fic. I'm going against my brand here by posting something set in Lorien when Rohan is really my jam. But this is the first thing I ever wrote, so it seems fitting that it should be the first posted, too.

Pairing: Haldir x reader (The reader is gender neutral beyond 2 uses of the descriptor "beautiful", which is still neutral to me but your mileage might vary.)

Genre: Romance, I guess

Summary: Two elves who are frequently misunderstood by others find the joy of having someone really see and value them for who they are.

Inspiration: This all came from the well loved gif above, in which Craig Parker does beautiful work communicating a whole emotional arc (surprise, confusion, acceptance, appreciation) when Aragorn unexpectedly shows Haldir some loving affection. In that half-second of screen time, I see an entire book of backstory about Haldir's character--about being someone who is very reserved by nature, who isn't necessarily comfortable freely expressing feelings and innermost thoughts, but who still feels deep emotional connections to others that can come out under the right circumstances. As a very reserved person myself, I can relate--if you tend to keep your thoughts and feelings close to the vest, people will make a lot of assumptions and judgments about you that probably aren't right, and that can be exhausting. When someone finally does understand you and allows you to be comfortable enough to open up on your own terms, it's a life changing experience. So that's what I tried to write.

Word count: approx 3200 (~ 6 pages)

**********

It is still early when you arrive in the center of Caras Galadhon, joining the crowd of elves waiting to find out where they will be posted for the next few weeks of guard duty. Most in the group are veteran marchwardens, deeply familiar with each other and the daily routine of life near the borders. By contrast, you are a city warden, often dedicated to the direct protection of the Lady of the Wood. But you have been asked to serve a temporary rotation on the borders while several of the regular marchwardens are away with Lord Celeborn on a visit to Mirkwood.

The change of pace is not unwelcome to you. While you love Caras Galadhon and are honored to spend time in the service of Lady Galadriel, you frequently find yourself craving distance from the city in favor of the quiet outlying areas, where it is easy to hear clear birdsong, the rustling steps of small animals scampering by, and the patter of light raindrops falling on mallorn leaves.

The crowd begins to murmur as the deputy captain appears and begins handing around sheets of paper with duty assignments. As the pages spread through the crowd, the murmurs turn to both sighs of disappointment and quiet expressions of satisfaction.

“All I want is to avoid the Nimrodel,” you overhear the elf next to you mutter to a friend of his. You recognize him as Calendil, who, like many of his companions, is well known for carousing around Caras Galadhon any time he is home on leave. As a group, the marchwardens are a boisterous company who seem always determined to pack several weeks of fun into the few days of free time they’ve been given. “Three weeks posted with the captain is more than can be asked of me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at this mention of Captain Haldir. You know him a little–everyone in Lorien knows the leader of the marchwardens–and have never before heard a negative word uttered about him. Your path does not often cross with his, but you admire his impressive record of achievements and have never seen him treat another elf with anything but courteous respect.

“You speak truly,” replies Calendil’s companion. “I cannot spend so much time with someone who has so little to say. That much silence is enough to drive one a little mad.”

A wave of indignation rolls through your body. It is undeniably true that Haldir is very reserved. He says little that isn’t necessary to the conduct of his duties, and what he is truly thinking behind his large blue eyes is often a mystery. But that has never seemed a negative trait to you. Indeed, you appreciate that he does not talk simply for talk’s sake and that he does not seem concerned with always making his own opinions known. What’s more, you recognize a fair amount of his inherent reserve in your own nature. If you didn’t often force yourself to satisfy others’ expectations by taking on a more outgoing, sociable persona, perhaps your own wardens would describe you just as these elves have described their captain.

Calendil’s conversation comes to an abrupt end as a copy of the assignment sheet makes its way into his hands. Peering over his shoulder, you quickly find your own name allocated to a remote post near the edge of the Dimrill Dale. A glance further down the list confirms what you already know from the quiet groan that has just escaped from Calendil’s lips: he has been assigned to the Nimrodel post.

An idea quickly forms in your head, and you tap him on the shoulder. Why should he spend three weeks feeling miserable with his posting–and, no doubt, making anyone around him miserable as a result–when you have no particular attachment to your own assignment? Calendil can go to the Dimrill Dale, and you will spend your posting with Haldir instead.

“If such a trade is permitted within your ranks, I will gladly make the exchange,” you offer. “I have always loved the river. And I have no objection to the company of someone who takes his duty seriously and does not revel in idle chatter.”

Calendil’s face registers a moment of regret as he realizes that his prior conversation has been heard by others, but it is quickly replaced by a wide, beaming smile that reflects his rapid change of fortune. “It is permitted,” he says, “and I happily accept. Remind me the next time we are both on leave, and I will reward your generosity with some of my own!”

You doubt that whatever reward he has in mind will suit your inclinations, but there is no need to worry about that now. Calendil has already sprinted off toward the deputy captain to report the change, and you turn toward home to gather your supplies.

****

Two days later, you are approaching the Nimrodel post, which is located in a lovely old mallorn tree with twisted roots that hang over the river’s edge. You raise your hand to your lips and whistle the signal. The return call echoes off the trees before a slim rope ladder drops from the branches above you. You run lightly up the rungs, making easy work of the climb to the talan perched near the great tree’s crown, where it commands a wide view of the river and much of the western section of the border.

As you hoist yourself and your pack onto the platform, you look up to see a single figure standing a few feet away. It is Haldir, leaning against the wind screen with his bow slung loosely over his shoulder and his white-blonde hair blowing gently in the breeze.You are surprised to see him there alone; wardens generally keep watch in pairs or groups of three for safety. You are there to relieve Arthalion, who is due now to return home for a break, but there is no sign of Arthalion or his things.

“Mae govannen, Captain,” you say, placing your hand on your chest and bowing your head slightly. “Is everything well?”

Haldir returns the gesture with a small smile. “Yes. It has been blessedly uneventful. Perhaps it is the threat of the weather.”

This makes sense. Just last month, an orc party attempting a surprise attack during a thunderstorm found themselves nearly washed away by sudden flooding from the Celebrant. Since then, even the hint of rain has tended to keep them at bay.

“And Arthalion? Is he out on a task?”

Haldir shakes his head. “I sent him back early. You might have passed one another in the forest except that he planned to meet a small hunting party further north. As I said, things here were quiet, and he was anxious to join his friends.” He gives a small shrug and looks down. “I will do the same for you, if circumstances allow and you desire it. I do not wish to keep anyone from their enjoyments unless duty requires it.”

You permit yourself a brief moment to wonder what Haldir’s own enjoyments might be. You have heard that he is a talented artist, making detailed pencil sketches of the forest, but he does not often show his work to others.

“That is a thoughtful offer,” you say. “But I have no pressing need to return, and I would not have you out here alone, even if there is no other elf in Lorien better able to protect himself.”

He acknowledges this compliment with a modest smile and gestures toward a small shelf where you can store your belongings. His own are few in number but neatly stacked or folded with military precision. You note that he does, in fact, have a small bundle of pencils and a notebook, but, as expected, there is no sign of any actual drawings.

After stowing your things, you settle into a position opposite him on the talan, and a silence ensues. It is of no bother to you–you’re enjoying the smell of the damp air and the touch of the light wind on your face–but you soon notice that Haldir is looking increasingly discomfited as the quiet minutes slip by. His gaze shifts frequently between the horizon, his hands on his bow, and your face.

“Was…your journey here pleasant?” His face is studiously neutral, but his voice sounds strained and he picks at a splinter on his bow. You realize that he is trying to make conversation for your benefit, to fill in the noticeable silence with casual talk that clearly does not come easily to him. You feel a sudden rush of affection for him, this intensely quiet being who is making himself uncomfortable so that you will feel welcome. You wonder how best to put him at ease.

“It was very pleasant,” you reply. “I am so rarely outside of the city these days that any chance to enjoy the forest is a gift. I can understand why being a marchwarden is an attractive job, at least during times of relative peace.”

He looks up, reappraising your face, and nods his agreement.

You hesitate before speaking again, unsure about how directly to address his uneasiness.

“Captain,” you begin, “it sounds like we may have an uneventful tour here. If that is the case, please do not feel that you are obligated to occupy my time. I am quite comfortable with quiet activity and my own thoughts and would gladly afford you space for the same if that is something you wish.”

His cheeks and ears flush slightly but, despite his apparent embarrassment at being accurately perceived, he seems immediately relieved as well. “Thank you,” he says. “If you are as good a warden as you are a reader of people, I feel myself in safe hands indeed.”

The next several days pass by peacefully. Between occasional scouting trips up or down the riverbank and regularly monitoring the view from the talan, you mostly spend the time together in companionable silence. You take turns preparing simple meals, and during breaks in the intermittent rain you make minor repairs to nearby rope bridges and other hidden defenses in the area. In the evenings, you read a book by lantern light while Haldir sits next to his own lantern and sketches in his notebook, occasionally transferring completed drawings into a closed leather folio at his side. Every so often, you both glance up at the same time, and you give him a warm smile when your eyes meet before turning back to your respective pages.

*****

One evening, as you clean up the remains of your small dinner and take out your book again, Haldir lightly clears his throat.

“That book seems to engage you much,” he says. “May I ask what it is?”

Surprised, you hold it out to him, and he takes it, examining the cover and flipping through a few pages.

“I do not recognize this script,” he says, looking at it with curiosity.

“It is a representation of Rohirric,” you tell him. “My brother was a skilled linguist who passed on some small portion of his knowledge to me. He spent many months visiting a friend in the court at Edoras and helped them to start preserving some of their oral traditions with a system of letters. This is a copy of one of his first completed projects–the story of the founding of Rohan–which he sent to me as a gift.”

Haldir looks again with renewed interest at a few pages before handing the book back to you. “Your brother sounds like an impressive scholar,” he says. “Does he remain in Rohan?”

You hesitate slightly before responding. “In a way. Two years ago an orc band in search of horses raided a village near the Limlight while my brother happened to be visiting. They caught him and his hosts unaware. The Rohirrim buried his body in a place of honor with their people, though his spirit has surely gone to Mandos.”

You relate this with downcast eyes, tracing over your brother’s name on the cover of the book with your thumb. After a few moments, you look up again, expecting to see Haldir withdrawn from the conversation. You know that many elves are uncomfortable with death, which is an unnatural state for your kind, and there is nothing in your interactions so far to indicate that Haldir will want to continue such a personal discussion. You are surprised once again, however, to find that he is looking at you intently.

“I am deeply sorry,” he says. “Working as I do, I have known many elves who met a similar fate in battle, and it is never easy. My own brothers are a treasure to me, and I cannot imagine losing them. I hope I have not contributed to your suffering by unwittingly bringing up a painful subject.”

You blink back a few tears and smile. Through your sadness, you are moved by the warmth of his response and honored that he was willing to share something personal of himself. “Of course not,” you say. “Talking about my brother is one way to keep him with me. Thank you, Captain.” You reach forward and squeeze his hand. He flinches slightly at the unexpected touch, but then gently returns the squeeze.

“Please,” he says, “call me Haldir.”

*****

After that night, things are different between the two of you. You both speak more often, tentatively at first but then with increasing comfort. You trade stories about old adventures and talk about the joys and frustrations of your daily lives. You discover that he has much to say when he finally feels more at ease. He is even quite funny, with a dry wit that you did not expect but thoroughly enjoy. You walk together in the forest and rest your feet in the waters of the Nimrodel during the day, and in the evenings he asks you to read to him from your book. You happily relate tales of Cirion and Eorl and the coming of the Northmen to Calenardhon as he draws quietly, occasionally interjecting a question or a brief comment.

The time passes quickly and easily, and soon your rotation will be at an end. You realize there is a growing pain in your heart each time you think about your imminent departure. Your old life suddenly feels dull and uninteresting to you now. You do not want to go back to a time without his companionship. You debate whether to say this to him, but you cannot imagine how he might react to such a confession. Paralyzed by uncertainty, the last days of your assignment tick by.

On your final evening, you are preparing for one last opportunity to enjoy what has become your nightly routine. Just as he is about to settle with his notepad and folio, however, he notices your canteen is empty and insists on climbing down to fill it for you. As he reaches the ground and disappears over the riverbank, the wind changes direction and a sudden gust rips across the talan, flinging back the cover of the folio and sending papers flying out in all directions. You cry out in dismay and throw yourself desperately onto the pages whipping around you, seeking to hold them down long enough to gather them safely together.

It is only after you have retrieved all the loose pages and are preparing to neatly stack them that you first look at the drawings themselves and are stunned by what you see: beautiful illustrations of the stories you’ve been reading to him, the words of your brother’s book brought to vivid life in graceful pencil lines and delicate shading. You leaf through the stack in awed amazement only to nearly drop the whole pile again when you turn a page and find an image of yourself as you must look to him each night, sitting by your lantern with your book in your lap. You keep turning pages and find more of yourself…braiding your hair first thing in the morning, standing at the wind screen and scanning the horizon, unlacing your boots at the end of a day. Your breath catches in your throat as you absorb these images. You have never looked more beautiful than you do here, seen through his eyes.

A sudden noise behind you tears your attention from the papers in your hand, and you turn to find Haldir standing there. You are immediately overwhelmed by panic and begin to stammer out an explanation for how you came to be holding his personal things, violating his privacy. “I…the wind…they were blowing away and…”. Hot tears well up in your eyes and are soon spilling down your cheeks, partly from embarrassment at the situation but mostly as the feelings you’ve been keeping pent up threaten to come flooding out all at once. “I was not trying to…I…”. An involuntary sob robs you of the ability to finish your sentence, though you aren’t sure how you would have finished it had you been able.

At the sound of your sob, he moves forward, quickly closing the distance between you. He hesitantly cups a hand under your jaw and uses his thumb to brush a tear from your cheek. “Please do not cry,” he says. “I would not ever see you in pain if it were in my power to prevent it. I am not upset. These drawings were for you, for your book. You were meant to have them, except the last few, which I hoped to keep as a reminder of these days and how happy I have been.” Your eyes snap up to his face, searching for confirmation that you have correctly understood his words.

“You know that I am not much for talking,” he continues. “But I am a very good observer. I know that you see me for who I am, just as I see you. I see all of the ways that you are kind and interesting and intelligent and beautiful. I have no expectation that you return my feelings, and if all I ever have with you are these three weeks then I will cherish the memory of these weeks through all the long ages of my life. But I would….”

Before he can complete his thought, your body reacts on its own impulse, a pure release of elation. You throw your arms around his neck and bury your face in his broad chest, still crying but now with tears of joy. You hear a sharp intake of breath as he processes your reaction, and for a fraction of a moment he stands motionless and silent before breaking into a smile and wrapping you in his arms. You could live in those arms forever, and now perhaps you will.

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b-1327-1 · 4 months

Text

Sweet Conversations

Fandom: Lord Of The Rings Return of the King

Pairing: Haldir x fem!reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, lots of kissing some not very innocent. Nothing explicit but please be advised this spicier than general audience.

Summary: A chance conversation leads to a simple game with the sweetest of prizes.

Comments: This was inspired by this prompt list "let me teach you what a real kiss is". The thought of Haldir saying that to me seems to have short circuited my brain as this was supposed to be a drabble but ran away from me, hopefully not to the detriment of the piece. I also would very much like to be chased down by Haldir. I have no chill.

Word count: 5, 359

Your eyes were fluttered closed as thumbs smoothed over your cheek bones. The strong hands that are cupping your face so tenderly tilt it up slightly. Your parted lips are trembling as the whisper of breath fans over your face.

You feel the shift of the body in front of you as they press closer, a nose nuzzles against your cheek and you whimper softly as chapped lips brush the corner of your own.

“Haldir.” You plead softly, your hands reach up and curl your fingers into his tunic, breath catching in anticipation of his touch.

His voice was a low purr as he speaks your name, making you quiver. He has barely touched you but your heart is thundering in your chest you're sure Haldir's sharp ears can hear it.

Your fingers grip his clothing, holding on to try to ground you in the moment. His lips trailed up to press softly against your temple.

His name tumbles from your lips like a plea, a prayer. Let him have mercy on you and finally kiss you like he had promised.

"Let me teach you what a real kiss is." The Marchwarden had stated earlier. Moving slowly closer into your personal space. The apex predator closing in on his cornered prey.

His steps had been slow and cautious, always giving you time to refuse but you hadn't. You had taken a step back so your back was flush with one of the decorated columns in this secluded vista. Back arching slightly to bend your body towards him. Welcoming his approach, encouraging him closer, a luring siren. No one would pass by at this time of evening. It was why you had run here, leading Haldir on a merry chase so you two could finally be alone.

Your heart had been full of courage then, all breathy laughs and gasps as you had weaved around the various areas of Lórien. Turning every now and then to make sure he was still there and thrilled to see the glimpse of him moving with an unhurried pace behind. But always within sight, once or twice within grasp but had not reached out. You knew he just wanted you to know that he could finish this in a moment. It was sheer indulgence on his part or perhaps he was just looking to see you finally tired out and close in with ease.

You had giggled and squealed as you turned a corner to see him already there leaning on a wall with a ghost of a smile and had danced away to change direction. You knew your destination, you were positive that Haldir also knew but was corralling you along more quieter routes, neither of you wanted anyone disturbing your game.

You had paused at a small ornamental garden with a delicate fountain in the centre with flowers of heady scents planted in a careful pattern around the area. The beautiful statue holding a vase that was pouring gurgling waters in the centre shone in the early moonlight. Swiftly hiding behind the fountain you placed a hand on your chest to catch your breath, your heart beating frantically under your touch and you let your eyes flutter closed for a second to try to calm its frantic pace and listen for any approaching noise.

Silence.

Opening your eyes you had caught the full moon gloriously starting its climb across the night sky. It’s silver visage reminding you of the blue eyes of your pursuer. A sharp blue under the sun but at night a brilliant flash of quicksilver whenever your gazes met.

You had bitten your lip at the flash of memory as Haldir had openly stared at you at the party earlier in honour of you and companions. The flush of alcohol in your system had made you more playful than usual as you had joined in on the teasing chatter of your companions.

“Who was your best kiss?”

It had made you frown and dip your head down as the others had whispered the lurid details of the treasured moments. But when it had been your turn you had only sighed in melancholy.

“I’ve never-” You had started and then Pippin had jumped in spluttering his drink everywhere.

“You’ve never been kissed?!” His shrill tone making people turn towards your group.

“No, of course I have!” You shouted a little too loudly and dropped your voice low again in a conspiratorial whisper. “They’ve just been nothing to write home about.” You shrugged and your gaze had flicked up to see a certain elf watching your group, watching you with a look that had made you suck on your lower lip and heat rush to your face.

You recognised him of course, Haldir the Marchwarden of Lorien. He who had escorted you and your group through the forest now dressed tonight in a more casual tunic and leggings of grey and green. Haldir who had approached you later to ask your name and gave you a tour of the main part of the beautiful Elven city. Haldir that you now had nightly dreams about driving him quite mad with desire and shaking his famous composure.

Haldir who had clearly heard the drunken conversation and was pinning you where you stood with his blue eyes. Perhaps you were not the only one who was dreaming of less than innocent thoughts.

You had excused yourself to get another drink and while at the serving table you had felt a presence at your elbow. You knew who it would be immediately. After all, being in your every waking and dreaming thought had made you hyper away of him.

“Marchwarden.” You spoke and let your gaze flick to him. He had already grabbed the bottle you were reaching for and offering to pour you a drink. His voice was calm and quiet as he spoke your name. Placing the bottle back down again you took a small sip and let your eyelashes flutter up at him, noticing the way his jaw clenched at the action.

“I couldn't help overhear your conversation from before.” He spoke with such a blase tone you had a hard time reconciling it with the way his fingers tightened around the bottle, knuckles going white when you had let your tongue peek out to chase the wine on your lips.

“Did you wish to contribute to the conversation?” You had asked in a careful tone and moved closer to him. Purposely brushing against his arm to reach for a plate of strawberries and smiling in relief at the way his body shivered at the contact.

"Not with the rest of your companions, no.” He stated simply in a low tone that seemed to suggest a hint of collusion. An air of secrecy between you and him. The implications of that made you hum in excited satisfaction and gaze up at him. Girlish fancy bubbling up in you at the prospect that you and the handsome ellon would share something together. You finish the wine in your glass and delicately place it down.

Biting into the strawberry you couldn't help the sigh of content at its sweet taste and looked to the side as if deep in thought.

“Then perhaps it is something you would like to converse about somewhere more quiet?” You felt the low rumble of agreement rather than with your ear, it makes you wonder if he takes it for granted that you don’t have the sharp hearing of him and his kin.

“If that would please you, my lady.” He says, looking over the party with an aching parody of drollness that it makes you giggle under your breath.

The ellon takes a strawberry also and lets his gaze flick back to you while taking a small bite from it. There’s a sizzle of tension between you both, hot and heavy like before a thunderstorm. Feeling the brave courage of the wine in your veins you scan the room to make sure there was no audience to you and Haldir's little game.

Seeing no spectators you arched an eyebrow and plucked the strawberry from his hand and let it tap at your bottom lip a second before sinking your teeth into it and letting the juice almost fall from your lips. Haldir had watched you with rapt attention the whole time, made you revel in the dark cast of his brilliant blue eyes. Pupils swallowing the iris till they drowned the blue.

“Very well, I’m going outside to take some air.” You announced to him, your voice thick with desire before brushing past him. A trail of fingertips against his hand still by his side you had walked over to your friends and told them you were going to retire to your rooms and sauntered out fully aware you were being watched.

Outside you had taken a deep breath and tried to cool the blistering heat of want that sat under your skin. The drink, you imagine, was not the wisest choice to do while this clearly besotted with a near stranger.

Walking to the little railing that overlooked the city below you stopped, resting your hands on it. The sound of a footstep approached from behind made you smile and you resisted the urge to turn to them as they stood a hair's breadth away.

“Marchwarden.” You said again and risked a glance at him. He was staring below with a tint to his cheeks that you assumed was from the heat of the party inside.

“Haldir,” He corrected softly, then ducked his head down a moment and gave a small cough. “While we’re alone you may call me by my name.” Haldir paused. "If you should desire." He gave the correction as if he wasn't completely convinced of your intentions.

"I greatly desire that Haldir.” You breathed and gave a thrilled grin. The ellon beside you tightened his grip on the railing when you had spoken his name so you tried it again. Letting it draw from your lips slowly and deliciously, tasting it on your tongue.

“You wished to discuss something with me, my lady?” Haldir spoke through gritted teeth. You tutted and tilted your head at him.

“You should call me by my name also Haldir like we are friends.” You chided him and watched as his knuckles went white gripping the railing.

“You wish, we should be friends?” He muttered quietly and you dropped the teasing smile from your face.

“No.” You confessed with the groan of yearning you had harboured for the ellon who stood next to you.

“Good,” He whispered with what seemed like a relieved exhale. You let your hand move closer to his own on the railing, just a soft brush of the tips of your fingertips had him shuddering. “You are playing a dangerous game.” Haldir let out with a soft growl like distant thunder. The rumble made you shiver and your toes curled at the forbidden images it stirred in you.

“If it’s a game you want to play I shall oblige you Haldir,” You had teased softly letting the evening breeze carry your voice away.

Pulling away from the railing Haldir had followed the movement with a puzzled expression. Standing there with your hands clasped behind your back you felt the breeze flutter the skirt of your dress as you looked at the ellon with liquid courage in your belly.

“We can continue our conversation after.” You finished and attempted a coy smile but it shrank when he stood and loomed over you. A hot flame of unbridled lust hit you, licked up your spine at the sheer presence Haldir had.

“And what is the game?” Haldir asked, tilting his head and with a curious voice.

"We can continue once you catch me." You breathed rising up and down slightly on your tiptoes. Haldir's stance changed, the curious puzzlement shifted into a coiled hunch. His head tilted again and it made you think of the large beasts in the forest. Eyes quick and teeth sharp ready to chase down and strike.

You ran your tongue over one of your canine teeth. A show of bravado, a taste of your intent, a glimpse who you really were. You were no child to tease and run. You were a woman who knew what she wanted and more than capable of biting back.

Haldir stands completely still and poised, awaiting the rules of the game. The only glimpse of emotion was that the ellon swallowed hard at your action, his adam's apple bobbing.

"What prize do I win when I catch you?" Haldir asked and you know your own eyes are mirroring his own dilated with desire.

"Perhaps you shall be able to give me the kiss I shall always think of." You responded sweetly and his lips curled for a split second.

"I accept," He stated calmly without hesitation. "I will teach you what a real kiss is." He promised.

You can't help the rush of excitement, the arousal his gaze ignites in you as he takes one step forward.

Taking one step back you had bitten your lip to stop the gasping giggle of nerves in your chest. He was still staring, unblinking, muscles clearly bunched and coiled even under the loose tunic. Broad shoulders rolled with anticipation and, Eru, that made you feverish with want.

"Will you grant me a head start Marchwarden?" You ask breathely and Haldir's unwavering stare slowly blinks. Like he's engrained the sight of you behind his eyes. He gave a soft hum of acknowledgement and nod of his head.

Then with a slight curtsy and cocky grin you turned on your heel and sprinted into the evening.

That was how you had ended up hiding behind the fountain. Your anticipation of his promised kiss made you almost falter in your steps so he would finally catch you. But you would play this game, race to the finish line and win your prize.

A light step stirred from behind and you held your breath. You had taken a peek from your hiding spot and gasped when long strong fingers were curled on the corner of the fountain behind you. The index finger tapped twice before sliding to hide again. You failed to hold back a giggle escaping you and strained your ears to pinpoint his next move. Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, fingers gripped your skirts in readiness to bolt again.

A flash of blond hair from your right and you fled yelping and laughing. Reaching the other side of the garden you turn and see Haldir where you had been hiding, his hand on the spot where your body had been seeming to memorise the warmth your body had been. He looked up to see you there and there's a look of such longing that it knocked the breath from you. The urge to run to him filled your bones, thrummed in your veins, choking off your breath.

Instead you had given him a smile, brimming with your own yearning, your desperate need. There had been a long moment when you both stood there trying to convey to one another your heart's desire.

After a heartbeat Haldir stood straight again and smirked, alerting you immediately. Maintaining eye contact he made a deliberate step forward. Tensing up you gave another squeak of excitement and bounded off into the dark.

Running, the night air whipped around you as you weaved through the familiar paths. Your feet made light work as you neared the end goal, your final destination.

Moonlight suddenly enveloped you as you reached the end goal. You had seen this remote spot in an earlier visit with your handsome tour guide. A small garden with columns surrounding a bench with sweet scented roses.

Stopping in the garden close to one of the columns you spun around, your dress swirling at your waist. Behind in the dark of the pathway you caught a glimpse of silver hair, raising a hand to your chest you try to calm your chittering nerves.

Slowly, step by step Haldir crept into the garden. You were clearly reminded of who he is, what he is, Marchwarden and guardian of this place. Lifetimes trained to defend, a sentinel of silent deadliness. A hunter who now had his eyes trained on you.

You fail to suppress the shudder that goes through you, goosebumps rippling across your skin as you finally make eye contact with him. Shadows gave way, falling from him, as Haldir was finally fully bathed in moonlight.

He approached slowly, seeming to sense the excitement in you. Whether the ellon wanted to make certain you were still sure of your earlier intent or perhaps it was in his nature as a hunter to approach his prey with caution? A cornered animal is at its most dangerous then after all.

So with that you lifted your chin up and taken another step back to feel the reassuring presence of the stone column behind you. Your eyes never strayed from the ellon coming towards you, the thundering in your chest is now not because of the chase. Haldir tilted his head again and paused.

"You give up?" He asked, curious and almost disappointed that you had stopped.

"We will be alone here, yes?" You counter and Haldir nods, blinking slowly.

"No one visits here at this time." He confirms and you relaxed against the column.

"Good," Your voice was barely a whisper as you threw him a reassuring smile. "No one to interrupt our discussion." You finished grinning at him.

Haldir hovered a little closer and gave a little laugh.

"You are very different." He said and moved into your personal space. Tilting your head back to keep his gaze you pouted a little.

"Is that bad?" You asked.

"No," he breathed and let one arm lean on the column you rested on. Leaning down he crowds in on you, and your breath quickened. You could smell his scent, wild and fresh like the forest surrounding this haven.

"No, living as long as I have, different, should be celebrated." He explained moving to bring his lips to your ear, his nose traced the shell of it. The tremble that it elicits causes you to bite your lip with a catch of breath.

"Will you claim your prize?" You ask hoarsely, your eyelashes fluttered as he pressed closer. Tilting your head again you let your lips brush against the alluring column of Haldir's neck. Your mouth close enough to his skin you could taste him on your lips. He hummed deeply in his chest, the vibrations rumbled through you both.

"Soon." He promised his breath against your ear making you whimper. "I will teach you what a real kiss is."

Haldir shifted his body and with a little trepidation ran his hands along your jaw. You let your eyes open to see his gaze studying you. Those impossible blue, now sliver regarding you closely, to gauge any discomfort on your part.

Raising your own hands you let them rest on his, your thumbs stroking against the battle scarred skin of his. Through parted lips you darted your tongue out to wet them and couldn't help the sense of satisfaction at his sharp intake of breath at your action.

"You tease me." He muttered in an accusatory tone.

"I don't know what you mean Marchwarden." Your laugh is an indecent purr.

His eyes roll white a moment at the way you address him as a violent tremble shaked him. When Haldir looks at you again the tease in you curls up as his gaze ripped through you, stripping you bare to bone. Naked and vulnerable under the watchful moon, those hunters' eyes are almost black.

A small ancestral part of you hisses danger to you. Run, run, little thing before you get gobbled up, consumed in one bite.

Another grin tugs your lips, showing teeth wide and bright. You're no little mouse to hide, you have your own claws, your own hunger. Haldir's lips twitch then curl into a small smile before he whispers your name. Soft like velvet across your skin, a dark caress that fills your mind, that has you close your eyes to savour the sensation.

The adrenaline is a heady concoction with the earlier wine, feeling daring you move your hands from his and let them rest on Haldirs chest. Your fingers smoothed over the hard defined muscle under his loose tunic.

The ellons own had moved to tilt your face up, calloused worn thumbs swept over your cheekbones. Haldir's name rolled off your tongue as it always did in your dreams of him, full of want and longing. It felt strange to say it aloud, sacrilegious to be able to speak it so. This perfect being you had fantasised about was now holding you, caressing you like he had dreamed of this also.

The scent of roses clung to his skin as you both stood curled around each other. Neither wanting it to end, let the night hold you like this forever and that is how you had stayed. Haldir pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, eyelids and brow. You grew more feverish and whimpered for him to finally bestow the finishing blow and kiss you fully.

Your fingers tangle in his tunic dragging him close, loathed to let any space between you both.

Haldir sings your name and you open your eyes to see him watching you. There's a wrinkle in his brow, a tension to his shoulders as a hand moves to cup your jaw. Sweeping your hands you curl them around his neck and let your nails drag softly against his skin. He seems nervous, or as close to an approximation to it that you can tell. It's a sharp contrast from his usual stoic demeanour.

Silken hair cascades over your fingers, like silver moonlight. Curling your fingers through it you ventured this was as close as to holding starlight, it's utterly bewitching. The fingers that still brush softly at the nape of Haldir's neck dip tantalising below the neck of his tunic. There's a hint of that bulk of muscle shifting again, like the roll of thunder, a force of nature.

The fluttering if your heart beats out a frantic tattoo as Haldir's arms wrap around you. It's with a delicate care, testing your boundaries when you feel his fingers stroke your waist. A soft gasp escapes you as his free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, strong fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs your heads back exposing your neck.

Haldir's name chokes out your dry throat, when his breath fans across your pulse point, his nose nuzzling just under your ear. A whimper reverberates through you at plush lips pressed against your neck, the sensation as they made a slow trail along to your jugular and the fingers in your hair strong and insistent to keep you in place make you giddy.

Instinctively drag your nails along the perfect skin under your fingertips making Haldir groan softly. Your reward is the sharp scrape of his teeth that rips a sound from you that borders on animalistic.

Haldir presses soft open mouthed kisses in a soothing gesture but it's too late for you. The feverish dizziness consumes you, shaking you to the core. Heady intoxication from wine is a poor comparison to the way your blood sings in your veins under his touch. You hold Haldir tight to you, convinced you can both stay like this forever, drunk on each other under the moon.

The fingers on your waist splay out, the searing heat of them surely branding you. Haldir nips at your throat again letting out a low pitched moan that you answer with your own. He must be leaving marks that a deep animalistic part of you craves. Dipping your fingers under the neck of his tunic again you claw at Haldir making him grunt and press you hard against the column.

Arching against him you give a keening cry and eyes roll in your head at a hot sensation on your skin. A questing tongue flicking and dragging against your neck tasting you, his lips moving higher to your ear.

Haldir's nose nuzzles against you again, his own breath hurried as his fingers tighten on you. There's a sense of proud accomplishment that you of all people have caused this transformation in the Marchwarden. He's whispering in a low purr words you can't understand but the tone you can, it mirrors your own gasping pleas of want.

"Please." You beg with no mind to your pride. Haldir groans low in his throat and the fingers on your waist disappear but before you mourn their loss you feel them again on your jaw. Haldir's thumb presses on your bottom lip and you instinctively nip and lick at it. A shudder rips through the ellon wrapped around you at your action.

The fingers on your jaw tighten for a second before twisting your face to his own. His lips are so close to your own you feel his panting breath, the heat of his already kiss swollen lips. Opening your eyes you look at him with a teary gaze, unable to hide the sheer desperation in them.

Haldir meets your gaze with dark eyes, pupils blown wide.

"Haldir," you groan. "Please have pity on me." His eyes dip to your lips as you lick them.

"Yes meleth nin," Haldir's usual calm composed voice now choked out and gruff. "I shall take pity on us both." He stated.

Giving a rattled breath your eyes flutter close as Haldir presses his lips to your own, you both sigh in sated anticipation. His kiss is a lingering taste to savour you as he nips and sucks at your plush lips. Long and careful movements that unravel you with precision. Nothing can compare to this, your dreams and fantasies are poor fare to the reality.

With your soft hiccups and moans Haldir's resolve starts to waver. What started out as a soft press of lips quickly evolves into a messy clash of teeth and tongue. Your fingers in Haldir's hair tug insistently, a warning not to stop. Haldir grunts and his fingers on your jaw near the border on bruising, but you have no mind to care. You'll wear them and his other marks with quiet pride.

Sliding your tongue against Haldir's you gasp which Haldir swiftly swallows. Sucking on his bottom lips causes a growl from the Marchwarden that makes your toes curl before he dives back in at you again.

His ministrations make you reel, like a leaf in a storm whipped around. Hypoxia bleeds into your vision as you shiver and moan, Haldir stealing your breath. You pull away a moment and gulp air inelegantly, your hand not trapped in Haldir's hair cups his jaw, then move to trace his swollen lips to keep contact with him.

Haldir presses soft kisses to your fingertips and when he sees you have your breath returned pushes past your hand to claim your lips again. Your fingers twitch and grapple to find purchase in Haldir's onslaught.

You finally settle on his jaw again letting them flutter up to trace his ears. The reaction is visceral, violent shivers rocks through Haldir as he moans loudly. His chest heaves against your own as you meld into one another. Another desperate grapple at one another ensues to conquer, to consume the other, to become one.

Before you can press this advantage Haldir pulls away abruptly causing you to fall forward into him. He pulls you against his chest, letting you catch your breath.

Tilting your head up you look to him confused but he's looking away into the darkness of the corridors beyond.

"Someone was approaching," he says softly, his fingers rubbing softly at the base of your head. You let your head rest against his chest, tucked safely under his chin. Words are beyond you as you try to reclaim your wits again but sure you're punch drunk.

"It is getting late, perhaps we should continue our conversation tomorrow?" He states his question wavered with hope.

"Yes, tomorrow." You whisper into his chest loathed to move from his scent.

"I know of a place where no one will interrupt us, some place I would like to share with you." Haldir states softly running a hand up your back, tracing your spine.

You press yourself against him and sigh with content at the promise of tomorrow. Of Haldir wanting to share something precious of his life with you.

"I would like that very much, Haldir." You reply and feel him shift slightly. The hand on your back moves to tilt your face up to look at him again. There's a look of satisfaction on his face for a mere moment at your appearance, soft doe-eyed and docile in his arms.

"Will you allow me to escort you back to your room?" He asks and you stifle a laugh. After what you had both just done, how he had reduced you to a quivering mess, to have him sound so proper was equal parts amusing and heartwarming.

"Please." You reply and take a moment to figure out if your legs will cooperate after the heady onslaught of a moment ago.

As you pull back slightly you straighten your clothing and idly hope you don't run into anyone on the way back. You must look like a complete shambles. Seemingly reading your thoughts Haldir reaches out and tucks some errant hair behind your ear before pressing close to kiss you again.

You squeak in surprise before melting against him again. The frantic energy from before still sizzles under your skin but Haldir seems to have a presence of mind to pull back again.

Standing stupefied you feel Haldir tuck your arm through his own and whisk you away along unfamiliar paths. There's a sharp pang of grief of having to leave the sanctuary of moonlight and roses. But Haldir's presence at your side eases it immediately.

There's twists and turns along darkened corridors that you are eternally grateful for being empty. Though you knew that was due to your guide's expertise in stealth, his feet lead you seemingly by second nature on desolate paths.

Soon enough you saw the familiar door of your room and a dread filled you at the realisation of having to separate from the ellon at your side.

Slowing down you both reach the door and begrudgingly you slip your arm free from Haldir. There's the distant noise of the party still in the throes of going on but all you want is the next day to come.

Standing before Haldir you feel suddenly coy. Looking up at him under your lashes you fold your hands primly in front of you. You're sure anyone who may see would be adequately fooled into thinking you a chaste soul. And not the raging maelstrom of lust that the handsome Marchwarden stirs in you.

Haldir tilts his head at your act and there's a moment of his eyes darkening again before he takes control of himself.

"Thank you for the tour, I enjoyed our conversation." You say saccharin sweet, Haldir ducks his head down a moment to hide the huff of a laugh.

"Hopefully it was memorable." He quips and you can't stop the small giggle escaping you as he glances up at you again.

"It was," you reply "Though I'm afraid my memory may fail me and I will need reminding Marchwarden." You confess softly and can see the twitch of his lips before his expression falls back into the easy mask of composure.

"I'm at your disposal my lady." Haldir pledges. Giving a small bow to you, he rises and you see the twinkle of mirth and promise in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Till tomorrow then?" You ask with baited breath. Haldir breaths quietly and you're quite sure he's fighting the urge to kiss you again.

"Tomorrow and many more." He vows.

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b-1327-1 · 4 months

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b-1327-1 · 5 months

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On my knees begging for more Mayuri Kurotsuchi x completely unhinged reader fics

#I need a bitch to go toe to toe with that motherfucker #mayuri kurotsuchi x reader #bleach mayuri #bleach #god hes the worst i love him #My favorite red flag #Captain Kurotsuchi please experiment on me next #i volunteer as tribute #bleach tybw #barking #i need him #Not in an nsfw way I want to poison him romantically

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b-1327-1 · 5 months

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Is the sun bothering you, my king.

Don't want to make you lose your concentration. (Of fucking me)

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b-1327-1 · 6 months

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Today's a good day to be a SuperBat fan <3

Everyone say thank you Dan Mora and thank you Jorge Jimenez!!

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b-1327-1 · 7 months

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unfriendly reminder: this is a sex worker positive space. I will not tolerate the disrespect of sex workers here, and if you cant agree with that without a doubt then you're not welcome here.

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b-1327-1 · 7 months

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Like a Horror Movie

A minor Zombie Ghost drabble to christen this account 💀🧟‍♂️✨

Heavily based off that one quote I saw where someone said Zombie Ghost broke his own jaw so he wouldn’t hurt you. 🙃

—

Is that…?

Your own thoughts grew nearly impossible to register over the chaotic rumbling of helicopter blades nearly half a mile away waiting for you.

“Keep running!” You heard a man’s shouting far ahead of you, or behind you, his accent grown heavier from such amplified, horrified distress in a race against time to outrun the dead.

Where it would take you, you didn’t know, but above ground was safer than the badlands below your aching feet.

The cold rain didn’t help, you weren’t sure why. It mingled with the sweat on your skin, tasting like cloyed gasoline on your tongue as it drooped along your lips. You didn’t want to run, but you had to. Evac had been waiting for you, in a helicopter at the end of the field.

Darkness invaded the night, the moon herself shielding her own eyes with dense, tearful clouds, diluting spilled blood and gasoline down along the earth.

You heard the shouting amidst all the gunfire. The gangrenous stench permeating the darkened fields, the flattened weeds under your boots from endless running.

You didn’t want to run anymore, the distress of your windpipes burning with each breath of air. All the bullets you wasted on reckless gunfire towards the mindless corpses that chased after you like relentless athletes had long since vanished.

You couldn’t stop, you knew that. One goal was on your mind as you continued along, pushing your limits to fight, to survive.

You could only imagine a haven on the other side of this, waiting for you with open, protective arms, promising a safe life that consisted of late mornings waking up to tired, dreary multicolored eyes, as the life you once had burned bright behind you.

You could’ve sworn you had an extra magazine on yourself, a strange attempt to grasp hold of it left you gasping and turning around, instantly failing your mission once you saw a tall, hulking beast coming to an abrupt halt at least eight feet away.

Is that him…? You recognized that uniform, sleeves torn from pitiful attempts to block the bloodied, infected flanges that scratched against his skin before sinking their teeth in.

But, the mask.

It had to be him, the meat on his body still clung to his bones, the decaying process too early still to peel the skin off his face.

“Lass! The fuck are you doing?! Hurry!!” Your partner called to you, the only other survivor from your once strong bodied team.

It was him. There was no one else you knew that was like him.

But, why was he here?? He was supposed to have secured this evac sight. He was supposed to be waiting for you, with a rifle in hand and an outstretched palm, lifting you up onto the platform towards that shimmering haven you desired.

The picturesque of such a high hoped eternity vanished like the snuff of a candle light within a canopy.

The watercolor that made up his eyes had long since washed off its leather canvas, replaced by two pearls without their iridescent sheen, measly shielded by dark, heavy lids.

Oh, Simon.

The way he stared you down wasn’t like that of an undead beast, like in the movies. He didn’t groan, or growl or grunt. As in life, his syllables were silenced by choice, giving him an etch of humanity based off your memory of his personality.

Did you fight? Of course you did. You’d never go down that easily.

But you knew better than to believe he was still alive. Like a stalking beast preparing to pounce, a killer always waits, preparing to pounce at just the right chance.

You weren’t unsuspecting, but waiting. Your heart ringing in your ears, your tears indistinguishable from this odd, putrid acid rain.

You were waiting, because you couldn’t go on. Not like this. You couldn’t see yourself rushing towards that helicopter, towards a dark, dreary existence, towards a life that meant living in dreadful solitude.

Did you scream out? What did you yell? Where did they bite you first?

You simply dropped your pistol, your rifle hanging carelessly by your side. An open target with blinking red lights and white flags, one that even the undead variant of the man you loved wasn’t stupid enough to resist.

Did it hurt? What did you think last? I’m sorry, I wasn’t there to protect you, or stopped you. Stopped you from reaching this point.

But, where did he come from? Why did he chase you all the way here? Or was he waiting for you? Could he tell, or was did this disease render him absolutely starved?

You didn’t need to scream it, you just needed to stand and wait, unable to fight the flinch of his body bursting from his spot, thick mud sloshing under his boots as he ran towards his prize.

When his unlatched, severed jaw failed to make its mark, it didn’t matter. This undead version of the soldier you loved wasn’t the man you knew, yet his ever strong determination remained.

You would’ve closed your eyes, should’ve even, but you couldn’t. Despite your hard flinch, you refused to let your last memory be of darkness as hot, heavy top teeth attempted to sever the sinews of your neck. Humid, heavy fermented breath and blood dampened the fabric fabric protecting your clavicle once his head drops lower, the straps of your helmet proving too pitiful to protect you much longer.

Even in death, he would find a way to kill you. He could break open your rib cage to feast at your quick beating heart inside, and you’d let him, dying while knowing he held onto your heart one last time.

His hands grasped hold of your shoulders, his heavy, dead weight forcing you off your feet in seconds, your tense body preparing to meet the cold, muddy ground.

The world went quiet, the screaming of your teammate ceased, your eyes merely catching a glimpse of the stars peeking through the crying heavens as your lover prepares to eat you whole.

The warmth of cotton sheets remained ever so soothing against the skin along your bare back, a hint of detergent making a pitiful note in the layer of expensive cologne.

An expensive brand you had bought him for his birthday.

Your eyes opened to promptly gaze into the darkness of the night, greeted with muffled breeze beating along your bedroom windows.

“Simon—?” Your croaked, emotional tone rasped out into the warm, stuffy ambiance, your aware self processing the emotions your dream state simply refused.

Warm arms reinforced their hold along your waist underneath cashmere blankets, tattooed skin nestled snug against your back. Usually, you’d hear his patterned breathing as during rare chances you had woken up while he slept, but this time, he merely waited.

Maybe you mumbled words in your sleep, or swatted your hand along his side, something to have roused him from his slumber.

Click. The warmth of a bedside lamplight vanished the darkness blanketing the room, the solidarity of each of your senses pointing out where you were.

Simple, minimalist decorated walls. A rich, dark red throw blanket you recalled wrapping yourself in while on the couch during movie night now sprawled over the corner of your bed.

The very same blanket Simon wrapped you in before carrying you off to sleep, temporarily embracing you in an exotic cocoon as your mind processed which dream you were to have.

“I’m here, love,” his voice rasps against your neck, the bridge of his nose brushing against your lower left clavicle.

Your head turned just enough to meet his gaze as his rose, greeted with the warmth of his tired, half asleep face, his hair slightly rustled after a minor process of anxious, short sleep.

The lamp ignited the warmth in his ever so exhausted eyes. Tiger’s eyes hues submerged in the deep blue waters of Alaska, heavy lids shadowed over with visible concern for your cold sweat riddled distress.

Warm blood pulsing through his heart, urging his cells to maintain the tone of his skin, the hint of pink in his cheeks, the hues of fool’s gold that made up the palate of his irises reflecting off the warm light.

His eyes flicker along the details of your face, as if instantly suspecting something. His hand makes a gentle effort to cup along the outskirt of your bare thigh, his heavy palm settling around your waist.

“Don’t tell me you had a damn nightmare already,” he mutters against your hair, practically able to hear the hitch in your breath after such an unsettling silence.

“Let me guess. The Walking Dead?”

“Nuh uh.” You mumble, silently thankful for the sound of his beating heart close to your ear, a smile tickling your face. “Shaun of the Dead.”

“Christ’s sake,” he grunts out, adjusting the position of his head, settling his cheek along your skull. The upside over movie streaming, he can tell if you’re lying about it in the morning on your watch history.

He didn’t ask what you dreamt of, not yet at least. He didn’t want to know, not unless you offered, or he was cruel enough to pry. For now, Simon wondered what that dream would’ve meant, if it contained the undead.

He thought for a while, wondering if you found yourself dreaming you were bit by a zombie. What an impossible image for him to come by.

Your hair smelled of honey and oat, your skin kissed with warm sugar from your lotion, and a faint butteriness from your homemade dark chocolate drizzled popcorn you made for horror movie night.

No, you were too sweet to be considered sickly deceased in such a crude manner. Him, however?

No, no he began to suspect, but those were thoughts he refused to ponder.

“Only one week in, an’ you’ve lost it. Don’t plan to watch anything with zombies for next weekend.”

“What about… Friday the 13th?”

“Pick something else in the morning, go back to sleep princess.”

Y’know how you’re trying to sleep and you wake up after feeling like falling? Imagine that. That’s what happened.

Idk how to write zombies, so this is all I got 🧍🏽‍♀️📱

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