#just let those poor durins be happy

[basil--and--sage]

I'm writing a fic about Fíli's and Kíli's childhood and at least 75% of it is them just getting cuddled by Thorin.

Man, I wish we had more uncle nephew quality time in the movies.

give me some caring and affectionate uncle Thorin right now

[platoniccereal]

some thoughts on the summer event, pt. 2

if durin looked at the star and then it appeared to be the same object as a lamp that miners had, it obviously shows how vertical simulanka is due to it being a book – but would it imply teyvat has a similar structure?

durin and wanderer were both children with gentle hearts, they were full of love, but simulanca durin didn't hurt anyone, really, yet in the real world blood was shed, and so many mistakes and regrets gained. and wanderer is removed so far away from that self who wanted to make friends and be happy.

also, both durin and wanderer hate their bodies for not letting them blend in society, and for both their real names are so important (yet wanderer never had a real name to remember, and i think this is why durin's story hurts him more). they're so trans. yes, i just called a dragon trans.

wanderer grew peaceful enough to not be so self-destructive, and he doesn't want durin to go through the same "i wish i've never been born at all" experience. :(

it's very telling his reaction to the goddess' death is to call it a betrayal, even though i doubt durin thinks he was betrayed. wanderer, you're projecting a bit too diligently.

simulanka durin had a loving and caring mother who watched over him even after her passing away, yet wanderer's never seen care in all the centuries she was alive and all those years she was out of the euthymia.

wanderer's another paimon's father and he teaches her to be more independent, heh.

paimon thinks wanderer is a friend, too, because she calls durin Another flying friend. :3

poor wanderer got an aneurysm saving everyone multiple times.

"just don't fall behind" oh wanderer? 🤨 so when there are two pretty girls and not just aether you don't say "keep your pretty eyes open"?🤨🤨🤨

can that squirrel be a parallel to the nameless child?

everyone cast their spell with their hands and he did it with his HEART HDHVSSYAU.

my wanderer is named "sunshine" so first he canonically called aether sunshine, and then aether called him sunshine TOO, and i think i was killed with a sniper rifle.

[writerthatcannotwrite]

TROP SEASON FINALE SPOILERS!!!!!

Elrond, my baby, my little guy, my poor soul.

DWARF RANT:

King Durin, may you rest in the Halls of Aule with honor.

I've seen a common theme in this series: people who had lost their minds, but found them in the last moment of shocking clarity that was (almost) their last noble act.

Celebrimbor, cutting off his thumb to escape (Which was very "I'm honoring my Uncle Maedhros" core, which I very much appreciate) and saying, "Whose will is the mightier?"

I can go on another rant about that phrase and the implications, but that was last episode.

King Durin III awoke the balrog, literally Durin's Bane.

Prince Durin and Disa's kiss was iconic, fyi.

Prince Durin tried so hard to help his father, but in the end, he couldn't stop him. Well, he alone couldn't stop his father; what truly set King Durin over the edge was the knowledge that his son might die. King Durin saw the balrog, something that he had willingly called forth, and went, "Holy shit, get the boy OUT". And how did King Durin get his boy out of the balrog's fire? He sacrificed himself.

Throughout this entire season, I have seen nothing but poor parenting from King Durin; he never listened to his son's advice; he literally shoved him away, and into a wall (My first thought was, "CHILD ABUSE!!! CHILD ABUSE!!!! GO GET DWARF DFCS!!!"). But here, we see the true affection King Durin had for his son.

The cataclysm that brought King Durin clarity was not anything his son could have done by himself, but the knowledge that his son was helpless. King Durin was not going to let his son suffer something of his own making, so he charged the balrog.

And then died.

HUMAN RANT:

Okay, so Kemen (I finally learned his name, unfortunately) needs to get off of his swampy ass and tumble into a grave. It'd be so simple; Isildur just needs to *grab by lapels* *shift three spaces to the right* *drop in hole*. Simple! Easy solution! Would the Valar be very happy? Probably not, but hey! We'd get rid of Kemen!

And I do appreciate Earien's technically treasonous act for her father; by now, she is a pretty prominent figure in Numenorean politics; the right hand of the king's right hand.

And you know what confused me?

The way Pharazon---I'm not calling him Ar-Pharazon, he doesn't deserve that---gathered up all of the RELIGIOUS LEADERS of the Faithful and said, "Yeah, sorry you're conspiring with Sauron, aka the DEVIL so you and all of the Faithful are to be arrested. Sorry."

One of the main things that always strikes a cord for me is religious freedom; when these wrongs are shown in this show, it makes me SO angry, because people should be able to practice their faith freely, regardless of whatever religion the government favors.

The sacking of Nienna's temple, the prosecution of the Faithful in earlier episodes, and now the legit imprisoning of people who are Faithful.

Recently, I have been reading "The Crucible" in class, and we have been discussing the causes and effects of mass hysteria, one of the contributing factors of the Salem Witch Hunts. I feel like there might be bought of mass hysteria going around Numenor now; the king/queen-ship is a major dispute, the Faithful are being arrested, major political and social leaders of the community have been imprisoned. People can likely accuse others of being Faithful (Even if they aren't) because of petty rivalries. In the Crucible, Mr. Putnam accused George Jacobs, his neighbor who had lots of land, of witchcraft, so that he would be able to purchase his land.

How many people in Numenor would face a similar dilemma?

Would Mr. Smith the Sailor accuse Mrs. Johnson the Tailor of being an Elf-Friend because her tapestries looked a little too much like those of Vaire? But it doesn't matter that Mrs. Johnson's only daughter is of marriageable age and Mr. Smith has had his eye on her. But who would be watching that if Mrs. Johnson was an Elf-Friend?

All of these factors are the most basic ingredient for a good ol' bought of mass hysteria; my English teacher doesn't watch this show, but I'm tempted to tell her the similarities.

then, to Isildur.

I thought Theo and Isildur's hug was very nice.

Theo was like, "Ah, yes, I shall bid my friend farewell after discussing the traumatic deaths of our mothers. I wish him well!"

And Isildur's like, "Why is the kid who hated me yesterday wanting a hug???"

I always got bad vibes from Estrid. I get swearing servitude to Adar in exchange for your life, I get that, but.

I never felt comfortable with her and Isildur's relationship. I get that she wasn't able to decipher her feelings for Hagen, her betrothed, until she met Isildur, but seriously. I also know that Isildur has an "unnamed wife" (SCREW THE NOT NAMING OF FEMALE CHARACTERS IT MAKES ME ANGRY), so I know he's gonna get somebody EVENTUALLY, and before Numenor sinks.

But then, Isildur and Estrid started MAKING OUT in Theo's kitchen. Like, bro. THAT'S NOT YOUR HOUSE!!!! Do that ELSEWHERE!!!!! Better yet, don't even do it!

And then, that slimy bitch Kemen had to stroll up, all, "Yeah, we'll put the watchtower there, knock down a few houses to do it." And then, he tries to be all buddy-buddy with Isildur, who obviously realizes that something is a bit off.

Then, Kemen drops the ball, saying that his father is wanted for treason, Queen Miriel is no longer queen, and "low men" are not allowed in Numenor.

First off: very classist of you, go kill yourself, Kemen.

Second off: Isildur learns that the woman he saved from the fire is no longer queen; is he thinking that his sacrifice, everything that he's endured in Middle Earth, has been for naught?

Third off: Kemen mentioned Earien. Does Isildur know that his sister has gotten a little racist in his absence? How will he react to seeing his sister betray their entire family by literally trying to put them all in prison (Anarion, Elendil, AND Isildur)?

Kinda happy that Estrid wasn't going to Numenor. Don't like the circumstances, but I'm glad that she isn't going.

I also think that Earien is coming to her senses; she might not have wanted Miriel on the throne, but now, Pharazon's tyranny is affecting HER. HER family is being prosecuted. HER father is wanted for "treason". HER people are at risk. Earien is getting a rude awakening to this thing.

I also think that its interesting how that guard left when Earien told him to; it shows how people in power are STILL defying the law in Numenor, all because, "Oh, she knows the king's son."

Of course, Earien did this for a good reason, but it still demonstrates the corruption of Numenor's political system.

Then, Miriel and Elendil. As I was watching this my mom, I was like, "Hey, do you ship it?" and she was like, "Oh, yeah" and I was like, "Good, my assumptions are not unfounded."

So yeah, Anarion, Isildur, and Earien are going to be getting a step-mom, good for them!!

What messed me up was when Miriel was like, "No Elendil, you must go, I will stay." Like Elendil (And us) were under the impression that she would remain with the Faithful; Elendil draped the cloak over her shoulders and she didn't flinch, she listened to his plan, but when the time came to make the decision she stayed. Frankly, I don't understand WHY, but go off girlie, I guess.

ELVES:

Okay, so Galadriel getting the refugees out of Eregion, I really liked; in cannon, Galadriel and many of Eregion's fled Eregion and headed south. Then, Galadriel gave up the Nine to save the refugees (Iconic, Queen Behavior), and we see Adar, leaning against a fallen tree. Is he injured? Is he hiding? Has his hand been conveniently cut off by some guy on an eagle? What happened?

After dismissing the orcs, Adar turns around. At first, I didn't see any difference (I'm not very observant, sometimes, alright?), until I looked a little closer. His face was no longer scared and burned; his hair seemed thicker, cleaner; he looked less gaunt. The ring had healed him.

And then, Galadriel asked for his name, but he evaded the question, like a little BITCH.

"Adar was the name I chose for myself" blah, blah, blah, bah, JUST SAY MAKALAURE YOU IDIOT!!! Sure, there are some details in cannon that don't line up (Maglor wasn't strung up on Thangorodrim, Maedhros was) but here's the thing: not only has trop changed a few things, it made some things more accessible.

In trop, Elrond and Elros were found by Galadriel after the Third Kinslaying, not the sons of Feanor. Celebrimbor was supposed to be tortured for TWO YEARS before his death. Celeborn is still supposed to be present.

I also have a cannon-probable idea for Maglor being Adar; in Maglor's trauma and grief at loosing his last and first brother, could he have not clung to his brother, in all aspects? Maglor may have curated this story of hanging from a cliff because that's what happened to his brother, that idea is what keeps him close. The things about being with the orcs and Sauron, I can't really explain for this idea. That's just about as far as I got.

But Adar WILLINGLY returned the ring to Galadriel, proving that he truly meant to defeat Sauron with elven help. But then, there is an injured Uruk nearby, and Adar goes to help; he might not even be able to heal him, but he will be with that Uruk in his last moments.

And then.

The Uruk, Glug, I think? leapt up and stabbed him. All of the others followed suit. It was a mirror to Sauron's own death in the first episode: betrayed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, stabbed---

You get the gist.

By the end, Adar is well and truly gone. He raises his hand to touch one of the orcs, his children, and calls them such, but the orc stabs him again, one, final time.

The entire situation is disheartening; sure Adar might have been willing to risk his "children" in his hunt for revenge against Sauron, but he cared about them, well and truly. In exchange, the orcs killed him for his kindness.

In the end, I really do want to know who Adar was before his chaining to a mountain. Did he have a family? People he loved? He must have come from Cuivienen, so he probably did.

I also wonder where he would go after death. Now that his hroa (Physical body) is well and truly... extinguished, where will his fea (Spirit) go? Do orcish fear (Spirit, plural) go to the Halls of Mandos, or somewhere else?

Adar looked vaguely elven; he could walk in sunlight, unlike his children. I feel like he should go to the Halls of Mandos; he did many terrible things, but were they not in the pursuit of good?

Then, Celebrimbor's death (These are not in the order of the scenes, just what I remember).

We see streaks of blood on stone floor, and we know something has happened.

Then, there's Celebrimbor, BEING USED AS TARGET PRACTICE, with arrows in his arms. Sauron stand over him, grim, and he wants to know where the rings are. They bicker and banter, there's some (un)healthy badinage, and Sauron STILL says that Celebrimbor's pain is HIS fault, that Celebrimbor brought this upon himself. Even though Celebrimbor is well and truly destroyed, Sauron STILL wants to have Celebrimbor guilt-ridden and full of self-loathing. It sickens me.

And then, Celebrimbor has something to say. He says, "forsee", and Sauron stops. I doubt Celebrimbor has had many visions of foresight, but the line of Finwe is not without them; did Miriel not have a vision of foresight to name her son Feanaro? Was Galadriel not gifted in seeing versions of the future? So it is possible, especially since Celebrimbor is SPOT ON. It WILL be one ring that brings about Sauron's downfall, and Sauron will fall. Sauron realizes this, and runs him through with a spear. Celebrimbor is lifted onto the pillar (Which is what I think we're going to get as the Celebrimbanner, unfortunately; I would have loved to see his cannonical death) and finally dies.

Then, Galadriel and Sauron's duel. Sauron turns into different people to try and fool Galadriel, but by now, she is used to trickery. He turns into puppy-dog-eyed Halbrand (Annatar was literally just Halbrand in a heat-damaged wig and shaved, Celebrimbor should have seen that IMMEDIATELY). Then, he's Galadriel herself, depicting her darkest, most evil deeds and desires. Then, Celebrimbor, mocking her for her retreat. Franky, I thought he was going to be Finrod as well, but alas, it was not so.

And then, he stabbed her with the crown (rude) and Galadriel, salty to the last, PRETENDED to give Sauron the ring. Very slowly, just to watch the pride and greed flash in his eyes, and then, "If I can't have it, then neither can you." Not what she said, but what she MEANT.

And girlie does and Elwing. Too many people in season two have dove off of cliffs; Elrond failed to beat the mama's boy allegations by jumping off a cliff with an object of power (In this case, three). And I was wondering if these guys actually thought that Ulmo was gonna come in clutch and turn them into birds. I mean, he did it for Elwing, so why not her son? Why not some other random person jumping off of a cliff?

In the end, Gil-Galad approaches (I'll get to that part in the beginning with Gilly and Elrond, hold on) and knows that Galadriel cannot be healed. She has the Second Age equivalent of a Morgul wound. It festers with dark magic and cannot be healed.

But who do they have?

THE healer!

The top dog of his graduation class from Lindon's School of Magical and Physical Healing!! Elrond Peredhel Earendilion whatever other name you give him! He's THE healer! Just standing there!

So of course, Mr. Healer is all dramatic, like, "No, we can heal her" through the power of friendship of course, and perhaps these magical rings.

I do think it's interesting how the rings will heal scarring and a Morgul wound; I think they only heal physical wounds, not those done to the spirit (Fea).

And then, we appear in a grassy, bright area, with Gil-Galad watching over Galadriel. He says that it is safe, a sanctuary made by the rings. This is, of course, the beginnings of Imladris, Rivendell, the Last Homely House. In cannon, Elrond and refugees of Eregion fled north, and founded Rivendell.

The river down the center HAS to be the Anduin, I guarantee it.

When the offer of the sword or shield pops up, I though that Galadriel would choose the shield; after all, this series is basically about how Galadriel went from a brutish, hyper-angry, traumatized elleth to a proud, wise, kind Lady of Lothlorien. I thought she would choose the shield, protect what her people had lost so much of, but she remains silent. Gil-Galad chooses the sword.

That scene of the elves raising their fists in defiance felt odd to me; even the children were seen raising their hands. Elves reach their majority at approx. 100 years, so what are these children, who have never seen battle and bloodshed except for that day, doing, wanting to wage war? It reminds me of Feanor and the unrest of the Noldor; a people that knew no bloodshed, and in their innocence, went to their deaths. It worries me.

Alright, one of my favorite parts: Elrond and the Scrolls.

Elrond, Gil-Galad, and Arondir are brough to a city square and we see orcs piling scrolls to be burned. Elrond, who is obviously a scholar, I mean look at him, is outraged. Not only are these the last ties he has to his cousin Celebrimbor, they also hold invaluable scientific information; it's like destroying the elven version of the Library of Alexandria.

Then, my baby boy Gil-Galad is at sword-point (Very scary, but I know what his doom is so I wasn't THAT scared), and just barely saved. Ngl, I had thought Arondir had died in Episode 7, so it was good to see him still kicking!

My favorite parts were Celebrimbor and Annatar's scenes and Elrond's dismay at the scrolls. I would also like to say that I think Gil-Galad slayed in every scene he was in.

Well, then. I must go google when Season Three is expected to show up.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

14th December >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saint John of the Cross, Priest, Doctor

    on 

Wednesday, Third Week of Advent.

Wednesday, Third Week of Advent

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the feria (Wednesday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Wednesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Isaiah 45:6-8,18,21-25

I, the Lord, shall create deliverance.

Apart from me, all is nothing. I am the Lord, unrivalled, I form the light and create the dark. I make good fortune and create calamity, it is I, the Lord, who do all this.

Send victory like a dew, you heavens, and let the clouds rain it down. Let the earth open for salvation to spring up. Let deliverance, too, bud forth which I, the Lord, shall create.

Yes, thus says the Lord, creator of the heavens, who is God, who formed the earth and made it, who set it firm, created it no chaos, but a place to be lived in:

   ‘I am the Lord, unrivalled:    there is no other god besides me.    A God of integrity and a saviour:    there is none apart from me.    Turn to me and be saved,    all the ends of the earth,    for I am God unrivalled.

   ‘By my own self I swear it;    what comes from my mouth is truth,    a word irrevocable:    before me every knee shall bend,    by me every tongue shall swear,    saying, “From the Lord alone    come victory and strength.”    To him shall come, ashamed,    all who raged against him.    Victorious and glorious through the Lord shall be    all the descendants of Israel.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 84(85):9-14

R/ Send victory like a dew, you heavens, and let the clouds rain it down.

I will hear what the Lord God has to say,    a voice that speaks of peace,    peace for his people. His help is near for those who fear him    and his glory will dwell in our land.

R/ Send victory like a dew, you heavens, and let the clouds rain it down.

Mercy and faithfulness have met;    justice and peace have embraced. Faithfulness shall spring from the earth    and justice look down from heaven.

R/ Send victory like a dew, you heavens, and let the clouds rain it down.

The Lord will make us prosper    and our earth shall yield its fruit. Justice shall march before him    and peace shall follow his steps.

R/ Send victory like a dew, you heavens, and let the clouds rain it down.

Gospel Acclamation

Isaiah 55:6

Alleluia, alleluia! Seek the Lord while he is still to be found, call to him while he is still near. Alleluia!

Or:

Isaiah 40:9-10

Alleluia, alleluia! Shout with a loud voice, joyful messenger to Jerusalem. Here is the Lord God coming with power. Alleluia!

Gospel

Luke 7:19-23

'Are you the one who is to come?'

John, summoning two of his disciples, sent them to the Lord to ask, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or must we wait for someone else?’ When the men reached Jesus they said, ‘John the Baptist has sent us to you, to ask, “Are you the one who is to come or have we to wait for someone else?”’ It was just then that he cured many people of diseases and afflictions and of evil spirits, and gave the gift of sight to many who were blind. Then he gave the messengers their answer, ‘Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, the Good News is proclaimed to the poor and happy is the man who does not lose faith in me.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

------------------------------------

Saint John of the Cross, Priest, Doctor

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Wednesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

1 Corinthians 2:1-10

The wisdom that God predestined to be for our glory.

Brothers, when I came to you, it was not with any show of oratory or philosophy, but simply to tell you what God had guaranteed. During my stay with you, the only knowledge I claimed to have was about Jesus, and only about him as the crucified Christ. Far from relying on any power of my own, I came among you in great ‘fear and trembling’ and in my speeches and the sermons that I gave, there were none of the arguments that belong to philosophy; only a demonstration of the power of the Spirit. And I did this so that your faith should not depend on human philosophy but on the power of God.

   But still we have a wisdom to offer those who have reached maturity: not a philosophy of our age, it is true, still less of the masters of our age, which are coming to their end. The hidden wisdom of God which we teach in our mysteries is the wisdom that God predestined to be for our glory before the ages began. It is a wisdom that none of the masters of this age have ever known, or they would not have crucified the Lord of Glory; we teach what scripture calls: the things that no eye has seen and no ear has heard, things beyond the mind of man, all that God has prepared for those who love him.

   These are the very things that God has revealed to us through the Spirit.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 36(37):3-6,30-31

R/ The just man’s mouth utters wisdom.

If you trust in the Lord and do good,    then you will live in the land and be secure. If you find your delight in the Lord,    he will grant your heart’s desire.

R/ The just man’s mouth utters wisdom.

Commit your life to the Lord,    trust in him and he will act, so that your justice breaks forth like the light,    your cause like the noon-day sun.

R/ The just man’s mouth utters wisdom.

The just man’s mouth utters wisdom    and his lips speak what is right; the law of his God is in his heart,    his steps shall be saved from stumbling.

R/ The just man’s mouth utters wisdom.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia! How happy are the poor in spirit: theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Alleluia!

Gospel

Luke 14:25-33

Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.

Great crowds accompanied Jesus on his way and he turned and spoke to them. ‘If any man comes to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.

   ‘And indeed, which of you here, intending to build a tower, would not first sit down and work out the cost to see if he had enough to complete it? Otherwise, if he laid the foundation and then found himself unable to finish the work, the onlookers would all start making fun of him and saying, “Here is a man who started to build and was unable to finish.” Or again, what king marching to war against another king would not first sit down and consider whether with ten thousand men he could stand up to the other who advanced against him with twenty thousand? If not, then while the other king was still a long way off, he would send envoys to sue for peace. So in the same way, none of you can be my disciple unless he gives up all his possessions.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[luna-writes-stuff]

I would be honored if you could do an imagine for Fili crushing on someone who went on the journey with the Company. He thought she liked his brother, but after seeing him with Tauriel, Fili feels like he has a chance and offers everything to make her as happy as he thought she would be with Kili. Lovely fluff and some misunderstandings with everyone living because IF I CAN'T SEE CANON THEN IT DOESN'T EXIST

Mixed signals, Fili Durin (platonic Kili x reader)

what do you mean they don’t usually live???? Idk I always skip the last half hour of botfa. If I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist.

Ahahah I got taken away a bit so it’s a long request. Sorry….

Headcanons, female s/o

Tw: misunderstood feelings, mention of injury and blood, tiny sprinkle of angst, fluff, Kili being a lil shit, Fili being jealous, few mentions of Y/N I’m so sorry.

- This man is whipped for you. I posted a request similar to this one yesterday, and I feel like it says enough.

- The moment he sees you, he knows you’re his One. Yet, he can’t allow himself to show you. His brother wouldn’t shut up about it and besides that, after Erebor was to be reclaimed, he had to marry royalty in order to form an alliance.

- But Thorin wasn’t blind. He has seen the look in Dis’ eyes many times before. He had seen his sister find her One, so it came as nothing out of the ordinary when he witnessed his nephew do the same.

- And this is pre-dragonsickness. Back when Thorin was all “I hate everyone but I guess I have to keep up with these two idiots so I’ll tolerate them.”

- And he wanted to grant Fili the opportunity to be with his One. He had even told him to simply go for it.

- But Fili was a bit insecure. When you met him, you didn’t seem taken away in any way. It was almost as if it had only been him who was in love.

- And with that, you had grown remarkably close to his brother, Kili. You two joked around all the time. You sat together during the evenings, Kili would help you up on your horse/pony, he would take offer your watches and he even let you hold his bow and arrow. That is basically dwarven language for “I love you and I wish to court you” or “I love you and I’m so glad to have you in my family.”

- What Fili didn’t know is that Thorin told Kili about you being his One. But instead of teasing Fili about it, Kili had made it his duty to agitate his brother so much that he would have no choice but to confess to you before Kili would sneak you away.

- For your information: Kili had no intention of sneaking you away. He just wanted to make it look like it for Fili, and, lucky for him, you had just been going along with it subconsciously.

- But it did not agitate Fili. It made the poor lad confused and tired. You were showing so much affection and endearment to his brother that he felt like he could never compete. Even though Kili had never been attractive in dwarven standards, he knew his way around women. And seeing someone finally pay attention to him, made Fili happy for his brother.

- And Kili just kept up with the act. He was oblivious to what his brother was feeling. Thorin had quite specifically told Kili not to tell his brother, and for once, he didn’t. But when days turned into weeks, Kili made more advances. Not in any way uncomfortable for you, but they had been a step further.

- He would let you rest against him during night shifts, he would let his hand linger on your waist when he helped you get onto your horse/pony. This sneaky bastard even managed to toy with your hair.

- Fili grew absolutely devastated at these moments. He had distanced himself more and truly felt as if his One had been taken away and he would die alone.

- But then Mirkwood happened. It was obvious to Fili that his brother had taken a liking on Tauriel, the female elf that saved him earlier. You had been passed out of exhaustion in your cell, not paying attention to your surroundings anymore.

- And that was when Fili finally decided to speak.

- “What are you doing? I thought you liked Y/N and now you’re flirting with that elf? You can’t treat her like that!”

- And now Kili was confused.

- “I thought you liked Y/N?” He had questioned, not even knowing whether his uncle had been lying to him or not.

- “That doesn’t matter. What matters is, you can’t just run around-“ but Kili had already cut him off. “It does matter. Because Y/N isn’t my One. I’m not attracted to her!”

- And now Fili was dead silent. He had been contemplating on whether to act furious or taken aback. In reality, he had been a bit of both.

- “You don’t like Y/N?” Fili asked, nearly insulted.

- “I was only trying to agitate you. Uncle said she was your One but that you wouldn’t confess.” Kili admitted finally, knowing that keeping the act up any longer wouldn’t work.

- “So you tried to beat it out of me?” The only response the blonde got was a quiet hum.

- “You thought I would take away your chance of happiness?” Fili wondered aloud, his anger now showing more clearly. “Well, not if you put it like that-“ “How else am I supposed to put it?”

- With those words, the space grew quiet. One more question lingered on Fili’s mind, and he had to ask it.

- “Does she know you don’t like her?” A short pause was heard from Kili before he responded. “She does. When we grew closer she told me she wasn’t attracted to me and I told her she wasn’t my One.”

- A sigh of relief came Fili’s way, but his brother kept on talking. “She grew all confused by the concept of ‘Ones’. Had to give her a whole history lesson. She thinks it’s adorable. I’m sure she won’t reject you.” With those words, Fili’s ears pricked up.

- “How so?” “Because every time we are together, she won’t stop asking me about you.” Fili never thought someone could ever bring him more butterflies than when you smiled at him, but as Kili’s sentences reached him, his stomach felt all light again.

- “At first I thought it was because you were ignoring her, but I quickly figured out that wasn’t the case.” Kili shot a quick look his brother’s way, even though he had been in a cell on the other side of the hall. “She likes you, she really does. She’s not as good at hiding it as you are. If you ask her to court you, she won’t say no.”

- Fili had spent the entire night pondering over his brother’s words. Even as they escaped the dungeons and took the boat to Laketown, his anxiety bubbled up.

- But as soon as the orcs entered the city, reality sunk back in. They had been on the run while simultaneously claiming their homeland. There might be a chance neither of you would make it. And it terrified him.

- As you were busy holding off the orcs in Bard’s home, Fili had been right beside you covering your back. He knew asking you to court him would require more steps. Up until this moment you had only held a handful of conversations, but Fili was running out of patience.

- “When all this is over, I need you by my side.” He told you quickly, his voice heavy as he fenced off the attackers. You grew confused at your words, yet your actions did not falter one bit. And it only made Fili more attracted to you. How you maintained yourself on a battlefield, yet somehow managed to hold that perfect look. It could quite easily take his breath away.

- “But I am by your side.” You answered, not catching his meaning, thinking it had been too good to be true.

- “I mean by my side at Erebor. When we reclaim the mountain. Will you stay with me?” Upon your silence, Fili tried explaining his speech. “I know asking you to court me requires more steps but we might not have time for them anymore. I need you to stay with me. We can do all these steps afterwards, I promise.”

- You cast him a quick look before giving him a sincere nod. “I’ll stay with you.”

- And that is exactly what you did. Upon finally arriving at the mountain with the four dwarves, Fili finally got the time to braid your hair, even if Thorin told him to look for the Arkenstone. You had even managed to braid his hair too, even though you had no beads yet.

- Even as Thorin slowly grew insane, Fili had done what he promised; he remained by your side, defending you against his uncle and keeping you as safe as he could.

- During the battle of the five armies, you stayed with him and Kili. You traveled with the three of you, not once separating. Not even when Fili decided you should split up. Because of that, you managed to do quite a number on Azog before Thorin called out to him.

- Azog had gotten a good slash on your leg, nothing life threatening but enough to make you collapse on the spot. Fili had been so worried. He had promised to look out for you, but now you were bleeding out on the snow covered floor. Kili had already ran off for help, even though the possibility he would come back with one would be highly unlikely, as battle was still raging on.

- On top of Ravenhill everything had grown silent. Bodies of dead orcs were littered over the floor but all that mattered to Fili right now was you being safe. Eventually, Kili had ran back with Bilbo, Thorin and Gandalf by his side. They had successfully beaten Azog, finally putting an end to the bloodshed.

- As the mountain was being rebuilt, Oin had put you on bed rest to let your leg heal and Fili had been with you the entire time. Thorin hadn’t even tried to get him for royal duties. He knew he had been awful to you during his dragonsickness, and this was his way of apologizing to you. And you had been fine with it.

- When you had finally recovered, Kili took you to the forges to make beads for Fili. You wanted it to be a surprise for him, but you needed supervision. At first, Dis, Fili and Kili’s mother, had offered to help, but it had become her duty to distract the crown prince.

- A few burns and scratched had started to form on both your and Kili’s hands but it had been worth it. The beads were incredible.

- Fili was so happy when you gave them to him. He was so surprised by the amazing details and the thought and time your poured into them.

- He wears them the entire time. Now exceptions. Not even for bed or bath. None. They must always be in his hair.

- I WANNA WRITE MORE BUT IT’S ALREADY SO LONG BUT JUST ASSUME HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH AND WILL TREASURE YOU FOREVER AND LOVE YOU FOR EVERY LITTLE THING YOU DO

[rogue-durin-16]

ROGUE-DURIN-16 PROMPT LIST FOR REQUESTS

Disclaimer: you don't have to use these ones specifically, you can send your own prompts and scenarios too. Also, feel free to reblog if you're a writer.

GUIDELINES:

Write down the prompt numbers and/or letters (up to 3)

Write down the character(s) you want in the fic

Choose the fic genre

Specify the reader's pronouns

Optional:

Add a more information on the plot if you want

Specify who's saying which quote

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

"Hey, you're bleeding!" "Oh my god— really? I didn't fucking notice!"

"Please get up."

"I like you." "Don't do that to yourself."

"Quick— kiss me!"

"Your lips are getting really close to mine."

"My family thinks we're dating."

"We have a problem." "No— you have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps getting in trouble."

"Please, don't let go of my hand. I'm scared."

"Dance with me?" "There's no music." "We'll hum."

"You look like you could use a hug." "Now, that's embarrassing."

"If I don't get coffee soon, someone's gonna die." "I'm 'someone', am I not?"

"How's the day going?" "Well, no one died." "Those are your standards?"

"Don't you dare walk away."

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation!" "And I'm trying to avoid it!"

"Now that I made it weird, I'm gonna leave."

"I don't like saying 'I told you so' but—" "the hell you don't, it's your favorite phrase."

"Are you sure I can't break his nose?" "Depends. Do you wanna get court-martialed?"

"Ten bucks says you don't make it to the door before passing out."

"I've lost the will to fight."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything that night."

"Come here." "Why?" "Just come here." "No, you're gonna hit me."

"Shut up." "Make me."

"You know we're meant to be." "Yeah, six feet apart at all times."

"I'm gonna marry you someday."

Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"

"It was just a joke." "It wasn't funny!"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Yes, I have feelings for you. Moving on..."

"Were you dropped on your head as a kid?" "As a matter of fact, yes."

"Rumor has it, I make you nervous."

"I can't get up." "I'll carry you."

"we should cuddle— platonically, of course."

"are you crying?" "... No." "Wow, that sounded so convincing."

"Look at me— you're gonna be okay."

"You have a heart of gold." "But that's not enough for you, is it?"

"Are you asleep yet?" "..." "I love you."

"I've actually practiced this." "Asking me out?" "Yes."

"I'm not easy to love." "Who told you that?"

"You're so adorable." "And you're ruining my reputation. Stop."

"We're just friends." "Oh, c'mon! the only ones who buy that are you, Y/n, and that poor idiot they're dating."

"I have a solution." "Thank goodness." "It involves fire." "Absolutely not."

"Don't you trust me?" "Uh, yeah, with my life, not with my hair!"

"If you ask me, I'd say we deserve a happy ending."

"Can you please keep stroking my hair?"

"We'll get through this. Together."

"You're like a sister/brother to me." "What a sweet way of breaking my heart."

"We could've died!" "Yeah but we didn't." "No thanks to you."

"I don't think I'll ever be ready to lose you."

"What if we kissed?"

"Maybe making out for a few minutes would help us figure things up."

"Oh, you're still alive." "Don't sound so disappointed, I might think you don't like me."

"How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

"I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?"

"Go to hell." "And leave you here all alone?"

"You feelin' alright?" "Peachy!" *passes out*

"I'm happy with them." "That's not fair!" "Why?" "'Cause I loved you first!"

SITUATION PROMPTS:

"You're very pretty." "And you're very drunk."

"Please, pull the trigger."

"Someone get the medic." "I don't need a medic." "Get the medic!"

"I don't like them like that. No. Absolutely fucking not, what the hell?"

"Not everything has to be an argument, you know?" "I can tell you you're wrong in five different languages."

"Are you clinically insane or incredibly annoying?" "I don't know, probably both."

"Please stop getting shot, it stresses me out." "Oh well if YOU don't like it."

A. One falls asleep on the other's shoulder.

B. First kiss.

C. Last kiss.

D. Cooking together.

E. The reader gets hurt.

F. The character gets hurt.

G. They're stranded (alone or with more people).

H. A breaks down, B comforts them.

I. A fixes up B after B gets into a fight.

J. Drunkenly confessing their feelings.

K. Heated argument leads to a kiss/confession.

L. First date.

M. Fake date.

N. Trying to keep each other warm.

O. A is drunk and B takes care of them.

P. Dealing with a friend's death.

Q. A asks B for a dance.

R. Bumping into each other after a long time.

S. The character realizes they're falling in love with the reader (or viceversa)

T. Starcrossed lovers.

FIC GENRES:

Fluff

Angst

Angst-fluff

Hurt/comfort

Friends to lovers

Rivals to lovers

Lovers to friends

Unrequited love

Mutual pinning

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Band Of Brothers: @sparkycorleone @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Ok how about a sweet and silly fic where tiny Fíli and Kíli teach even tinier Ori some pranks? Maybe they try them out on Thorin and Ori is terrified because he thinks Thorin is scary, but Thorin actually finds it funny and then sends them to pull pranks on other people? 💙

OOOOK... family fluff here we come...

“If you’re not looking to be Thorin Oakencasket,” Dís had said, “you’ll keep a watchful eye on my two precious gems!”

Thorin – who was quite happy with his current epithet – had tried, he really had, but Fíli and Kíli had surpassed his own damn siblings in the art of being slippery.

Dwalin coming in with a pitcher of some artisanal brew he had stolen from some poor unsuspecting soul had not been conducive to successful pebble-sitting either; not that there would have been anything to be gained from sitting around when it came to the two unholy demons spawned by the Mistress of Chaos who – allegedly – had been conceived by the same parents as him.

While Thorin was sure that he was a blessing, Dís was a thinly veiled malediction most of the time…and he loved her so much that he might have torn off his braids before causing her any pain.

“This is your fault!” he grumbled, pointing an accusing finger at his best friend and faithful companion who was staring wistfully at the empty pitcher as if wishful thinking would replenish it.

“How so?” Dwalin looked up – doing his best to replace the dopey grin with a more serious expression of hurt pride and failing – to let his gaze scan the small sitting room.

“I’m sure they’re merely playing,” he grinned after a moment, “they’ve got Ori with them; he’s a good lad.”

“Oh really?” Thorin jeered, “Between Ori converting my nephews to the right path and my nephews ruining Dori’s work, which one sounds more probable? Let me remind you that Balin is an utterly honourable dwarrow and you’re…this!”

“OI! Not fair,” Dwalin grumbled but he had to admit that Thorin was not exactly wrong either, “only, your princely Maj-ass-ty, who was the one to make me stray off the path of the righteous that I might otherwise have followed? Was it not you, oh sovereign fool?”

Bickering back and forth would not bring back his darling sister’s precious gems, Thorin knew, and so, he was tempted to crouch on the floor and follow the trail of sticky hands and smelly feet all the way to the disaster they – no doubt – had gotten themselves into.

Ori was terrified.

Dori would be so furious when he heard what he had done; Dori would be so heartbroken when he learned that he had kind of (a little bit?) ruined his beautiful flowerbed to condemn a handful of worms to the ungrateful fate to be squashed by Prince Thorin’s ultra-royal feet.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Fíli chided him when he saw his pale lip tremble just the tiniest bit over the huge gap in the row of even white teeth.

It was really a shame that dwarven teeth took such a ludicrously long time to come in, but of course, their jaws and gums were much harder to penetrate than those of those mysterious soft creatures called ‘Men’ uncle Thorin always talked about.

A hint of bad conscience plagued him now as he rubbed grease – Kíli could charm whatever he wanted from the kitchen maids – all over Thorin’s belongings while his brother and Ori stuffed worms into his slippers, embroidered by their mothers loving and skilful hands.

Now that Kí was a little older, Fíli liked telling him that he was no longer cute enough to get away with all their shenanigans and so they had roped in little Ori – Fíli had never seen such a mummy’s boy without an actual mother – to have a scapegoat in case they were caught.

A sense of pride and fondness washed over him despite his childishly harsh and slightly unfair thoughts; Fíli loved those two rascals, they were his first followers, his tiny army.

He had his mother’s eyes, uncle Thorin’s eyes, Durin eyes, but if he was ever to have any children, he’d want them to have the dark, soulful eyes staring up at him now. Fíli found brown eyes beautiful.

After all, they were the synonyms of loyalty, bravery, and fun…at least in his book. He had seen humour, anxiety, sadness, and utter joy make light and shadow paint landscapes onto that seemingly boring canvas, and he would never grow tired of seeing them.

“Fí?” Kíli’s hand – pudgy and soft – closed around the hem of his tunic and tugged, “Fí? Uncle will not be terribly angry, will he?”

He might, Fíli thought, but – as the general of this three-men-army – he would take the brunt of the just fury of the imperious and forbidding Thorin II; yes, he was unafraid, and he would face his uncle bravely.

“That’s not for you to worry about,” he whispered, giving Thorin’s sword another good rub with the greasy rind in his hand, “I’ve got you, Kí!”

He said this solemnly, in his best imitation of uncle’s voice; it was a promise, a vow, an oath. Never would he forsake that pebble given and entrusted to him as much as to his mother.

“He’ll be angry…and then Dori will be angry…” Ori whimpered, treacherous wetness collecting at the corner of his huge, dark eyes.

“I’ll say that it was my idea,” Fíli assured him, mussing the copper strands of pure silk – braided carefully by Dori’s expert hands – gently. Ori was a good kid, everybody knew that; nobody would be dumb enough to resent him for his loyalty.

“Ori is an orphan, Fí,” he heard his mother’s warm voice in his head, “and you are Thorin’s heir and my son; Ori is as much your responsibility as his brothers are your uncle’s.”

Fíli had felt immensely proud when she had said that; he wanted to be a good leader and – for a moment – he wondered if he had done poor naïve Ori wrong by pulling him into this.

“Let’s be away before someone comes,” Fíli checked on their progress and waved the other two out of Thorin’s bedroom to go back to the small chamber he shared with his brother.

“You can show us your new book and I’m sure the maids have given Kíli another few cakes,” Fíli smiled encouragingly; it would not do for either one of the little ones to break into tears and give them away now.

If his brother was not very careful, he’d end up like cousin Bombur before even reaching battle-age, Fíli thought with a chuckle.

Then again, Kí had been such a fragile baby and he had spent many a night watching his uncharacteristically slender and elegant figure writhe helplessly on the worn sheets of purest velvet and silk.

All things considered, Fíli was happy that his baby brother had grown to be strong and hardy…and if he ended up a little pudgier than strictly necessary, it would only facilitate his own personal quest for a dam to be his ‘One’.

Two warm, sticky hands slid into his on either side and Fíli grinned to himself; as long as those two followed him, there was not a thing he couldn’t achieve.

Thorin found them – fast asleep – in the boys’ room.

Fíli smelled like greasy rind and Ori’s tiny, narrow fingers were covered in dirt that had made its way deep under his fingernails.

Without bothering to wake them up, Thorin snuck into his own room and cursed when lifting his sword – seeming slightly out of place – and dropping it onto his own foot.

With a sigh, he took off his boot to inspect it for potential damage, slipping his feet into the house slippers his sister had insisted on giving him and let out a very unprincely squeal upon feeling the wriggling worms between his toes.

“Damn those…” he muttered under his breath, shaking out his worm-filled slippers into an empty jar and shaking his head in resignation.

In a flash of longing and melancholy, he remembered how he and his siblings had tossed a whole bucket of thistles onto Thráin’s head. What a mighty bellow his kingly father had let loose upon realising that it would take hours to untangle that crown of thorns from his elaborate braids.

Good times!

Between Dwalin, Dís and his own royal self, they had been responsible for mischief far beyond a greased-up sword and a handful of worms in a pair of slippers, and Thorin missed these moments sorely.

Dwalin’s dismissive chortle from earlier came to his mind; he had called him a ‘mother hen’ for fretting about the three little ones.

“We’ll see about that oh son of Fundin, we’ll see about that,” Thorin chuckled to himself as he made his way back to the boys’ room.

“Don’t be angry at the little ones,” Fíli faced him, chin shoved up bravely and eyes ablaze with youthful courage; had he been old enough to hold a weapon, he might have gripped the handle of it in a show of his brazen confidence.

“I am not angry at anyone,” Thorin smiled, “but I think it might be better if your mother…and Dori…never hear of this. Are we agreed?”

His nephew cocked his golden head suspiciously but – when Thorin extended his hand to him – he shook it as vigorously as he could.

That tiny, still so soft palm in his own – rough from hard labour – was oddly touching, Thorin thought. His nephew would make a great dwarrow one day; he was a loyal leader and that was more important than being a great fighter or an excellent strategist when it came down to the nitty-gritty.

Kíli was munching on a cookie while Ori seemed to try melting into the floor, his ears and cheeks reddened with shame and embarrassment.

“What a brave but devious lot you are,” Thorin laughed in a low voice and tugged gently on their baby braids; he could see that none of them seemed to be willing to sit still for the time it took a grown dwarf to plaid the soft, slippery strands of their hair into presentable hairdos.

Another wave of fond memories crashed through his mind and soul.

“Listen, Master Dwalin is – as far as I know – taking a nap in my sitting room,” Thorin whispered and – as expected – the three boys drew nearer as soon as they smelled the hint of a conspiracy.

Dwalin had decided to sleep off the drowsiness that followed the tasting of artisanal brew rather than help him sniff out the pebbles – sure that they were alright – so he deserved to find out just how perfectly fine they really were.

“You like to draw, little Ori, don’t you?” Thorin tried to charm the most reticent of the three.

A shy nod.

“Well, tonight there is an important feast and I’m sure Master Dwalin would love to be pretty,” Thorin had to bite his tongue upon using that term for his old friend, “and I’m certain that you can help him by sprucing up that blank skin of his.”

“You mean…paint on the shaved skin around…” Kíli’s eyes grew round and sparkling, a perfect copy of Dís’ when an unholy thought took root in her mind.

“Yes, let’s say I leave these pigments here – unattended – and step out for a second to get rid of a jar full of worms that have – mysteriously – made their way into my room…you boys can look after yourself for a moment, can’t you?” Thorin winked at them and went to retrieve a few small pots of ink he had wanted to bring to the library.

“Yes, uncle,” Fíli tapped the side of his nose before huddling with the other two troublemakers in an impromptu powwow.

Whistling a merry tune, Thorin Greasesword, Thorin Wormfoot, Thorin Pebbleruiner, went to free the poor creatures and to clean his belongings before entering his sitting room.

“Now, go wash up,” he commanded, “and I’ll see you lot at dinner.”

They flew to the washing room like rats scurrying away while Thorin grinned at the colourful decorations of tiny pebble-hands all over Dwalin’s skull.

“Why are my sons’ hands discoloured? Does it have anything to do with the honestly strange style Dwalin has chosen for tonight?” Dís’ voice was cutting but there were threads of humour interwoven in the melody of her annoyance.

“I have no idea whatsoever,” Thorin replied with a placid smile, “they’re children! Remember how we were at that age, sister dearest.”

“That’s exactly what I thought of,” she grumbled but seeing the chequered grin on her baby’s face and the triumphantly proud expression on Fí’s, she let it go easily enough. Tough luck for Dwalin, she thought, one couldn’t always win.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin – her stone-faced brother – wink at Dori’s little brother who beamed in obvious delight and careful joy back at him.

Whatever those dwarrows had done while she had been out, Dís didn’t need to know.

Visibly, they had all had an amazing time and nobody had ended up hurt or maimed which was a rarity when the much-fabled but very elusive impish streak in the Durin blood acted up.

If you liked this, feel free to send me requests and prompts...and I'll try to write you something short :D

Please feel free to reblog and/or comment, I love hearing from you all <3

[the-fooliest-fool]

Alright folks, it seems time to put in my two cents in on the matter of the Character Design in the new series.

Well simply put I'm horribly disappointed. It takes the worst of modern fantasy and has abandoned everything that made the movies and books special. So let's go down the list from most to least troubling.

Galadriel: This one hurts because in my eyes Galadriel was always a symbol of feminine power. She didn't need to 'act like the boys' or give up an ounce of elegance to trounce orcs and be terrifying. She was beyond that and was strong in her own right. Her feminity is part of what made her so striking in my mind. The troubling part about this is is fake feminism that is hiding a sexist message. It's saying a woman has to be masculine to be powerful, and that a damaging idea I even see some women falling prey to. Over all it's a loss for feminism and a butchery of character.

Princess Disa: This placement can change depending on what more is revealed. Currently she looks like a Token character that is missing a beard. Beards are a very important part of what makes a dwarf a dwarf, and I find it important for women with facial hair to get representation, not to mention it's very canon in both the movies and books.

How the ranking could be improved: while not mentioned in the movies, in the books it's very clear that four of the seven dwarf clans awoken in the East and south. These are four clans that come from and live in the same environment as the Haradrim and Easterlings. This could be a chance to greatly expand the diversity of the dwarfs, especially because we haven't been introduced to them on the screen yet. If Disa is from one of these clans and married into the line of Durin it would make a lot of sense politically for her to be from one of those clans. And if we find out that because of the terrain of where they're from those dwarfs have a bit less facial hair... Well then I might forgive it just bit, though I wouldn't be happy.

Elrond: This one hurts. My poor boy. Maybe if this was when he was younger it would be okay for him to have short hair, but as our soon to be corrupted island friends are well established it can be concluded this is after his twin brother Elros became mortal nada probably well after he's died. Also he needs black or at the very least very dark brown hair.

Random poc Elf who's name I can't remember: Okay I mind his placement, Sylvan is not where a black elf would fit in, it would make a bit more sense for the Noldor. They lived in Paradise and even one of their prince's was a bit darker in complexion. If I read "grew up under the light of giant glowing trees so bright they lit up the world" then I would totally understand at the very least a few of them being black and many more looking mixed. I always headcanoned the Noldor with more Mediterranean and even North African looks.

More importantly: If you're gonna make a black elf you better fucking let him keep some long natural hair. I know for a fact elves have the best hair care and you will not rob me of an elf with gorgeous and we'll maintained natural hair. Let the man grow his hair out Amazon you coward!

All the elves with short hair: NNOOOO!!! Bezos you CURR!

Anyways thank you for listening to my very overrated opinion. Good day all.

[midearthwritings]

Angels Standing Guard

You must go, but you are not alone.

Words Count : 1,447

Pairing : Durins & Reader, Slight Fíli x Reader, Slight Kíli x Tauriel

Warning : Canonical Character Death

Author’s Note : Took me so long to finally decide this was worth writing but yeah, here it is now. Inspired by the song 13 Angels Standing Guard ‘Round The Side of your Bed.

  On the cold hard ground lies the body that used to be yours, and you can only watch as delicate snowflakes find their way into your mane. Strands of hair dance in the wind, but you cannot feel it, not anymore. Never again will you be able to enjoy the spring breeze caressing your skin softly, nor the harsh bite of winter.

With a quiet sigh, you stare at the face that once reflected happiness, life. It is now livid, marked by Death. Your eyes are wide open, clouded with the fear that had struck you as your enemy’s blade had dug its way into your chest.

Covering the still fresh wound, the corpse’s clothes are stained with blood. Silently, you watch as it flows, spreading beneath you to form a crimson halo. And when you step forward, the thick liquid remains unmoving, as if you aren’t there. 

Further away, the battle is still raging. Warriors jumping at each other’s throats, fighting for their people. Swords crash against shields, pierce through exposed body parts to touch vital organs. Yet, you cannot hear any of it. The dark chanting of war does not reach your ears. Although, it is not invisible and if only you raised your head, you would be able to see. But you cannot bring yourself to look, your eyes fixated on your lifeless body.

Plunged in deafening silence, the quiet steps coming closer to you from behind don’t go unnoticed. The sound of his feet hitting the ground is engraved in your mind, but it is his own body, discarded further down, that gives him away.

When his arm circles your waist, you do not flinch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. The brush of his soul against yours is intense, more even than the passionate kisses you had exchanged before meeting your Fate.

“We will not wake.” At your words, his grip tightens slightly, bringing you closer to him. It is not a question, for you both know the answer. Yet, he shakes his head.

You wish to cry, but the tears do not come. They stayed on the other side, a privilege granted only to the living.

“Not this time, Âzyungel.” The prince whispers, keeping his voice low as if he did not want anybody else to hear. It is useless because nobody will ever be able to hear either of you again. 

“I do not know if I should grieve our death, or celebrate that I won’t have to live without you.” You admit, pulling back from his embrace to face him. Even now, Fíli looks divine. Despite the situation, you smile. Your heart cannot beat anymore, but your love for him has not faded. It is still deep and true, stronger than when you had met. 

“Do not say such things.” He scolds, but his eyes mirror yours and you can see that he loves you as much as you do. How unfortunate are you, for your time together might come to an abrupt end. “Let’s get somewhere else. I can only look at your dead body for so long.”

Again, your eyes fall to your lover’s corpse. He, too, has been abandoned, forgotten. You cannot help but wonder if someone will find the bodies, or if they will remain here until time decides to feast on them.

With a nod, you take his hand in yours, entwining your fingers, your souls. Glancing one last time at who you used to be, you let Fíli drag you away.

Once dead, time seems different. It passes so slowly, yet so fast at the same time. You have no idea how long you and Fíli have been wandering. You have no idea why you are still there. Are you condemned to walk the Earth aimlessly until its end? 

As you silently question the Gods and their ways, a desperate call breaks the silence. Perhaps this is why you have not left yet. 

With each step you take, the shape of your friend becomes clearer, more detailed. He is not alone. There is the lovely red-haired elf that had saved him, back in Laketown, postponing what could not be avoided. On the other side, she holds him tightly as if he might vanish. Tears run down her soft cheeks, mixing up with the blood. Hers, or his, you do not know. 

Stuck here, with you, Kíli calls her name. He calls, louder and louder, in vain. She will not hear him, nor will she even know he is by her side. Poor Kíli. Young lovers, beautifully crafted for one another, cursed to never be together. Fate is cruel, merciless, and not even the purest thing such as love would be able to defeat it.

Next to you, Fíli steps forward. Before he can move any further, you grab his wrist.

“Not yet.” You say softly, answering the unspoken question. “Give him time. It is the last time he sees her. The last time he can be with her.”

Humming approvingly, the ghost of your prince backs off, his eyes lingering on his mourning brother.

As Tauriel gently presses her lips to his, you look away. It is privacy you do not wish to invade, tenderness that is not for your eyes to see. Perhaps you are just selfish and do not want to feel their pain during your last moments.

“I cannot help feeling guilty,” Fíli says. You turn your head and his eyes meet yours. Their color is deeper, enchanting. Why must people die to catch a glimpse of true beauty? “If he had survived, and I still died, he would have had been the new Crown Prince.”

“Wouldn’t have it been a blessing?” It wouldn’t have been, you know it. Bearing the weight of being a future King, Fíli was sparing his brother.

“There is no need to keep discussing the matter.” Getting behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder. His younger brother falls to his knees, desperately trying to touch her, to make her notice him. “It is the end.”

Three ghosts, waiting to be freed from their burden. Still stuck in this world, forced to bow to the Gods’ will. Three ghosts, eyes fixated on their dying leader. Three ghosts who soon will be four.

The orcs had sworn to end the line of Durin and kept to his promise. One by one, he had slain them. First, it had been your Fíli. You could still feel the excruciating pain of having to watch your lover falling before crashing onto the ground. Thankfully, you had not had to watch his brother die as well. But seeing him so hurt, so vulnerable, had been almost as painful. And finally, he had gotten to Thorin. He had made him suffer the death of his kin before erasing him from the Earth.

Never had you thought the death bed of your King would be the snow-covered ground.

“Children.” The baritone voice coming from behind makes you all stand up. Finally, you are reunited. It is his nephews who go to him first.

He embraces them tightly. His love for them is great, and his face is contorted with guilt for he is the one who put them to Death. You stay back, watching them from afar. How beautiful they look together. They were one another’s strength, each other’s reason to fight. 

“Now, do not stay so far. Come.” The King addresses you, opening his arms. Unsure, you step forward and join them. Thorin welcomes you as his family, and if your heart was still able to beat, if you could still feel everything as you did before, it would probably swell with happiness. 

   Only now do you realize that you start to feel lighter as if you were floating. It is time. The four of you will leave to never return. People will remember your names, tell tales of your courage and how you battled. Children will think of you as heroes, longing to live the same adventures.

A hand slips gently into yours, barely there but reassuring. There is no certainty that you will find each other again, this could be your last time together. Closing your eyes, you think of all the things you will never see again. Of the sunrise and the sea, of the birds building their homes in the privacy of trees. You think of home, of those you were not able to say goodbye to.

Four ghosts, walking to eternal rest together. If they are scared, they do not show it. It is a cycle no one can escape from. One last time, you look back.

[dadsbongos]

late night for a sinner

Movie/Game/Show: The Devil All The Time Dynamic: Arvin Russell/Reader Warnings: religious overtones cuz it’s this movie, described and enacted violence (against teagardin), preston teagardin (and all his sexual assault-y/manipulative bs) Notes: uhm people got married at like 20 in the 50s and i assume arvin is about 20 so no i will not apologize for making you his wife, my country-accent writing is bad(?) idk Summary: Arvin’s a protective man, especially when it comes to those he loves. ~~~

“Somethin’ ‘bout that preacher don’t feel right,” (Y/n) murmured to her husband as they stood outside the doors of the church, “Gives me a shiver right up my spine.”

Arvin nodded along to her words, watching as his grandmother and sister shook hands with Preston Teagardin - fancy name for a guy like him. A guy who gave women chills. He reached into his dress pants pocket and plucked out a cigarette before placing it between his lips, “Watch yourself around him, darlin’.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for Lenora, too,” (Y/n) crossed over the creaky boards of the church's stoop as people began exiting, her hands coming out for the man’s tie, “Did you loosen this durin' the sermon?”

“Too tight,” he let the woman adjust his tie, “You know how I feel ‘bout comin’ to these things.”

“I know, I know - hey, I don’t like comin’ either, but it means a lot to Ms. Emma and Lenora,” pulling back from the tie, (Y/n) placed her hands on Arvin’s shoulders, “‘Sides, someone’s gotta watch for that blasted preacher, and I think we’re the only ones who will.”

Removing the cigarette from between his lips, Arvin leaned over to kiss his wife’s forehead, pulling away to ask, “You take my light outta my pocket when you pressed my pants this morning?”

“Maybe I did,” she shrugged, grinning, “Maybe even I think you shouldn’t be smokin’ outside a church.”

“Maybe,” Arvin nodded, “Maybe.”

Emma and Lenora finally came out of the church and started towards the family’s truck, the two women got into the back with Arvin and (Y/n) getting into the front to finally head home. Lenora leaned forward as her brother started the truck, “You shoulda been in there for the goodbyes.”

“Oh?” turning her head and leaving her cheek pressed to the headrest, (Y/n) quirked a brow at the teenager, “What happened?”

“Reverend Teagardin said he’s interested in meeting you,” Lenora beamed at her sister-in-law.

“Just her?” Arvin pulled out of the church parking lot, “Seatbelt, Lenora.”

“I got it, I got it,” the girl waved off before returning to her previous conversation, “But yeah, just (Y/n). He was talkin’ about putting together a church choir. Thinks (Y/n) would have a pretty voice.”

“She’s got a pretty voice but she ain’t singin’ for no church choir,” Arvin’s brows furrowed, white-knuckling the steering wheel at the mere idea of that damned preacher trying to get close to his wife, “Not in that man’s church choir.”

“Let the girl speak for herself,” Emma cut in, “Thought I raised you better than that.”

Pursing his lips, Arvin turned to (Y/n) for a split second before returning his stare to the road, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she looked back to her sister-in-law, “You singin’ in the choir, Lenora?”

“I’d love to try.”

Clenching her jaw, (Y/n) thought over her choices. Leave Lenora to sing in that choir - leave her sweet, naive little sister-in-law in that preacher’s hands for far longer than was typical or wanted… Or, suck it up and sing for the bastard.

“I’ll sing with ya, sweetheart.”

Arvin sighed quietly, glad none of the women in the car heard him over the rumbling of the truck’s old engine. To distract himself, and by proxy the women in the car, he suddenly changed the topic, “This damn old truck. Gonna hafta fix it up or take it in.”

“You’re gonna take it in?” (Y/n) tilted her head.

“Thing’s old; I’ll do as much as I can, darlin', but sometimes there’s only so much I can do. You know that.”

“I’ll need to go with you,” the truck jumbled with the rocky bumps of their home’s pull-in, “Pick up a few things for dinner.”

Lenora felt her heart warm and lips quirk into a smile at her brother and sister-in-law. They weren’t so into the church as her and Grandma, in fact - Lenora’s certain they only played along to please her and Grandma, but watching them was nice. Nothing to play along to, just a simple, pure expression of adoration between the couple. Arvin was never a man known for something as soft and tender as love but (Y/n), since the two were in grade school, was easily able to pull it out of him.

From high school sweethearts into married lovers. It was overjoying to know someone else was looking after Arvin.

“I’ll check up on Mr. Earskell and be right out.”

“No, no, (Y/n),” Emma shook her head, taking the woman’s hand as she was assisted out of the truck, “I’ll handle things. You and Arvin go on and stay out here.”

She didn’t bother fighting against the older woman, she was the matriarch of the family - she was just the rule maker. It was only fair.

“You don’t hafta keep callin’ em Miss and Mister,” Arvin came out and around to the hood of the truck, “They’re part a’ your family now.”

“Feels improper,” (Y/n) rebuffed, standing beside her husband, “I’m just thankful they’re lettin’ me stay here.”

“And why wouldn’t they?” he knew why she felt that way - her own family was insufferable and he could barely stand being around them for a dinner - he couldn’t imagine having to live with them.

“Let’s not open that can of worms today, huh, love?” (Y/n) placed her hands on her hips as she watched her husband look over the truck’s interior and drag over his tools and oil.

“Don’t joke ‘bout that, love,” despite his words, Arvin was smiling slightly, “Poor fishermen work hard to get those worm cans.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she sarcastically relented, peeking over the man’s shoulder, “Wish I knew anything to help you.”

“I could teach you a thing or two.”

“Maybe not now, baby.”

Which, of course, was code for ‘I’d rather not. Ever.’ but politely.

There was silence between the married couple as Arvin worked until he sighed and planted his hands on each side of the open hood, head hanging low as he murmured, “You’re really goin’ to that choir?”

“We both know I gotta be there for Lenora.”

“I appreciate that, but I’ll still be worried to hell ‘bout you,” he turned to face his wife, restraining himself cupping her cheeks and smearing grime over her, “Both a' you,” then he finally admitted as to why he was so apprehensive, “I’ve been watchin’ him.”

“You what…?!” she whisper-screamed, coming in closer to her husband, “Arvin Eugene Russell, you been what?”

“Watchin’ him,” Arvin almost regrets the admission at the sight of his wife’s shock, “He’s a no-good-sonofabitch, (Y/n). Messin’ around with a young girl behind his wife’s back. She’s good to him, (Y/n), she cooks him dinner and she does her best to keep him happy. He’s no good to her. He’s no good, at all.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrow, “Cheatin’ on his wife?”

“A girl from Lenora’s class. He’s worse than a cheater,” he turned back to the hood of the truck and quickly said, “We’re takin’ it in.”

“Why haven’t you said anything yet?”

“Nobody will ever believe me, (Y/n), you know that. Everybody here loves that damn radio bullshitter.”

Nodding quietly, (Y/n) fisted a hand in her skirt before turning towards the home’s door, “I’ll tell Lenora we’re goin’.”

The topic is ultimately dropped as they leave into town. As they take the truck in for the shop and as they pick out items for dinner that night and even on the walk home. Reverend Preston Teagardin didn’t come up again, neither did his affairs or his disgustingly, sickeningly low age preference for said affairs.

They weren’t the only people in town on watch of their new preacher in town, they were just another young couple walking home.

Even as dinner passed and time for rest came - as they pressed into bed and huddled together in the cold night. Teagardin was temporarily forgotten, pushed to the backs of their minds as they slipped into slumber.

And when Arvin darts up from bed after another nightmare over finding his father’s body that fateful night, (Y/n)’s thoughts are solely on her husband. Bringing him back into the present, where he’s not in the woods finding his father knelt down in front of their makeshift church but instead in bed with his loving wife. With his sister down the hall. His grandmother at the end of the corridor and his great-uncle's own room across from theirs. He’s in a home that isn’t going anywhere - he’s with people who won’t leave him, not any time soon anyway.

It’s not until the next day, after Lenora’s first day back at school for the week had finished and her daily visit to Hellen Hatton-Laferty was over, that Teagardin even peeked back into the couple’s brains.

“If that sonofabitch touches you or Lenora, tell me,” Arvin whispered to his wife, hands holding hers tightly before she went into the church for choir practice, “I’ll make sure ain't got no hands to touch you, or Lenora, or any other unlucky woman.”

“I’ll come right to you, honey,” (Y/n) was quick to confirm for her husband, “Promise.”

“Good,” he cups his wife’s cheeks and pulls her into a tender forehead kiss before going to his sister and giving her a tight hug, “Be the loudest one there, got it?”

Lenora chuckled quietly, patting her brother’s shoulder, “You know I can’t do that.”

“You can.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) goes up the stairs and pulls one of the double doors open, “You just shouldn’t, ain’t that right, Arvin?”

A teasing shrug and he’s walking off towards the car while Lenora follows her sister-in-law up and into the church.

Teagardin is sitting in one of the pews with his back turned towards the two women.

There’s nobody else in the church despite having been told this was the meeting time. It’s silent. Preston still hasn’t turned to the two.

Lenora is fidgeting beside (Y/n) the longer the man stays quiet. The younger girl nervously bunching the skirt of her dress in her fists. Her brows drawn tight in confusion and lips pressed into a thin line.

(Y/n) steps forward, ignoring the nerves urging her to run and encouraging her knees to buckle underneath the weight of her body, “We’re here, preacher.”

His head lifted, a smile coming over his lips, an unnatural smile - one she’d imagined on the devil when he tricked another soul into his claws. Preston comes to a full stand and approaches the women, “I didn’t expect both of you to come.”

“I wanted to support Lenora.”

“How wonderful.”

~~

“Preacher’s dirty.”

“What?”

(Y/n) sighed, sitting up in bed and looking down at her husband and whispering into the night air, “Teagardin. He’s just as dirty as you said.”

Immediately, Arvin was also sat up, no longer tired and now entirely focused on his wife, “What happened?”

“Tried touchin’ Lenora ‘til I stopped him. Grabbed me. I got us out of there and now Lenora’s tryin' to figure out how to tell Ms. Emma.”

Arvin stood out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants over his boxers, slipping on a shirt and his hat before heading to the bedroom door and slipping out of the room. (Y/n) followed after, eyes wide and brain springing into panic as she watched him tug on his shoes. Hurriedly, the woman put her shoes on as well while Arvin snuck out of the home, her continuing to follow after him.

Once they were in the car, (Y/n) turned to Arvin as he pulled out of the driveway, “What the hell are you doin’? It’s late, you can settle this tomorrow, can't ya?”

“No. It don’t matter if he’s with his wife or at the church, I’m puttin’ that bastard in his place. I hope that woman leaves his ass,” he shook his head, “Rotten fuckin’ bastard.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

The man was silent as he drove towards where he knew the Teagardin residence was. Every few minutes he would take off his cap and run a hand through his matted hair - if he could force himself to do so, he could almost pretend this was a nice drive with his wife. A simple late-night cruise through town with the love of his life, but then he would remember exactly why they were on a late-night cruise. A peek at (Y/n) would remind him, she must be frightened to all hell - it must’ve been awful to be in that church. Be near that rotten man.

And Arvin’s rage was freshly re-lit.

“Is this the right time?” she remembered each time her husband had repeated the phrase from his father, it was usually enough to sway him from acting out at that moment.

“Best time there is. He’s asleep - won’t be expectin’ us.”

(Y/n) settled into her passenger side seat, turning her head to stare out the window, “How’re you gonna get him out?”

Arvin was silent once again, fingers tight against the steering wheel as they pulled up to the bend at the end of the preacher’s street. He got out of the car and stormed towards the Teagardin home with (Y/n) trailing after.

It wasn’t long until Preston came stumbling out of his home with Arvin banging on the front door. Cynthia was out soon after her husband, clinging to the door frame.

“Late night for a sinner, kids,” Preston rubbed at his eyes, “Can this wait ‘til the mornin’?”

“You try touchin’ Lenora?” Arvin was blunt, he didn’t like sugar coating and he didn’t like the people who did it. Turning, he gestured to (Y/n), “Tried touchin’ my (Y/n)?”

Immediately, Preston’s eyes widened, “Now, now, I- I didn’t do nothin’ to those two.”

“Callin’ my wife a liar?”

Cynthia looked between her husband and the younger couple on her lawn, “What’s this about, Preston?”

“You just go inside now, Cynthia!” the preacher called back to his wife, “These two are full of delusions!”

“Arvin, let’s just head home now - you can take care of this tomorrow…”

Shaking his head, Arvin only approached the older man further, “My wife ain’t no liar. And those hands ain’t free of sin.”

“Go inside, Cynthia!” Preston shouted at his wife once again before turning back to the other man, “You won’t say nothing. I will have your lives ruined. Who will the town trust? Me, or two scruffy children who married straight outta high school?” he gives a forced chuckle, shaking his head and pointing at (Y/n) with a shaky hand, “Your wife… she- she… your wife is delusional. She’s crazy.”

Arvin Russell had been fighting nearly his entire life - he learned from his father and he continued on far after his father passed. Preston Teagardin had never been an athletic boy nor had he been confrontational by any means, preferring to hide in the shadows and smile his way out of trouble.

It wasn’t a mystery as to how Arvin managed to land Preston on the hard ground, chest pressing into the dirt and hands tightly wound behind his back in Arvin’s hold.

He didn’t know what he was looking for in the man. He didn’t know what he wanted from the preacher. He couldn’t kill the bastard - he still had a sister and wife to look after when his grandmother and uncle could no longer. Was it admission? Was it a promise to not even look at the women of Knockemstiff? It wasn’t an apology, he knew that - because there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be giving out forgiveness.

“You take back what you said,” Arvin grunted out, pushing his body harshly into Preston’s back and hoping it’d hurt as much as when boys did it to him on the playground, “You take back what you said about my wife, you hear me?”

“She’s crazy!”

Arvin took a hand into the preacher's hair and smushed his face deep into the dirt, “If I- “ when Teagardin’s whining got too loud, Arvin let his head up before roughly smashing it back into the ground, “Fuckin’ listen when I talk. You listenin’?” he waited for a nod of confirmation before continuing, “If I even hear your name in the same sentence as my wife’s or my sister’s, I’ll bash your fuckin’ brains in, hear me?”

“Arvin!” (Y/n) finally screamed out to her husband, hands landing on one of his arms and pulling, “Arvin, you let him go!”

“He deserves this, (Y/n)!”

“I know, but dammit Arvin, you’re gonna get the sheriff on you, let’s go home!”

Giving one last thunk of Preston’s skull into the ground, Arvin stood and kicked the man’s ribs before nodding at Cynthia with a brief ‘goodnight ma’am’ and returning to the car.

“That was a dumb thing you just did, Arvin Russell,” (Y/n) scolded, rather lightly, as her husband drove.

“I don’t regret a damn thing about it, (Y/n) Russell.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” she reached over and snatched his cap before fixing it over her own head, “I’m proud my husband cares so much.”

“Least I could do for the woman of my dreams.”

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

The Softest Shout (Fili x Reader)

Requested by: @guardianofrivendell

Saw that your requests were open 👀 I absolutely LOVE your Legolas fics! But can you maybe write a Fíli oneshot 👉👈? Can be angst with fluff ending, or just fluff. I am WEAK for enemies to lovers or angrily confessing your love without thinking: "But why?" "Because I love you!" I'm happy with whatever really :)

A/N: here you are! My first Fili fic! Was gonna save it for Fili Friday, but couldn’t wait! Poor majestic lion deserves more love! Enjoy! ☀️

How dare he! The audacity! The nerve! What right did Fili have, as to boss those beneath him around?

Y/n grinded her teeth, as she sat on the stone steps of one of Erebor’s many halls. A battle loomed in the distance – one between her kind, and the Elves. It regarded mostly stolen jewellery, and the stubborn streak of Thorin, which she saw all too much in his oldest nephew.

Y/n was just as adept in battle as her male counterparts were. However, Fili apparently thought not.

He had always treated her unfairly, Y/n mused. He was always mean – pulling on her pigtails, making snide remarks and all-around teasing. Oh, how it made her blood boil.

However, this was the final straw for the woman. She was a grown adult, and yet, here she was – sidelined, and forced to sit out the approaching war.

It had startled her, to say the least, when Fili snapped earlier. She was arranging plans for the fight ahead, regarding her armour. However, Fili quickly stormed into the room, and took the chainmail right from her hands.

He then proceeded to seethe and scold her, claiming that she had ‘no place on the battlefield’. She too had said some choice words, which in hindsight, may have been a little brash. Though, she did not regret them at all, for they were birthed from nothing but truth.

So, now here Y/n sat – furious on the stone steps.

Dwalin soon walked past. He stopped, confused, for a moment. Why was she sat down? By Durin! There was a war to prepare for!

“Lass,” he began scolding, “I know for a fact you are not sitting down right now – not when you could be readying yourself to fight against those pansy peacocks!”

“I’ve got nothing to prepare for,” Y/n glumly said. She held her chin in her hand, and glared up at Dwalin.

“Whatever do you mean?” Dwalin asked, creasing his features.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Y/n started, with a roll of her eyes. “Our brave and true heir to the throne apparently has a superiority complex. He has removed me from the ranks. I am not allowed to fight.”

If Dwalin was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, puzzling Y/n, he merely only clicked his tongue, and muttered under his breath. It sounded like something along the lines of ‘that darned boy is utterly hopeless at these sorts of things’.

Y/n tilted her head, and parted her lips. What things? What was Fili hopeless at? He was sure a lousy comrade, that much was for certain. She herself would never have chosen to spend more than five minutes with him, but alas, the journey to Erebor deemed she would do so.

Finally, recalling the woman sat beneath him, Dwalin returned his attention to her.

“I know it isn’t my place to question our leaders’ authority,” he began, sighing, at the thought of Thorin, “but, I think you’ll find better luck in speaking to him again.”

“Shouting, you mean,” Y/n knowingly corrected.

“Aye, that’ll work too,” he mulled.

Smiling through a quick huff, Y/n dropped her eyes to the ground. She definitely had a lot of pent-up anger, so even if she couldn’t take it out onto the battlefield, she knew Fili would do just fine. After all, he was the reason she was so furious in the first place.

“You’re right,” she sighed, standing to her feet. “I’m going to go give him a piece of my mind!”

As she sauntered past, with squared shoulders, a set jaw and burning eyes, Dwalin chuckled, and responded aloud.

“Good luck...”

~ Fili was located in the armoury, and fiddled with the drawstring of his armour. Without so much as announcing herself, Y/n filed into the room.

“I have a bone to pick with you!” she seethed, marching on over to him. “How dare you take me out of this fight! I am warrior, just as much as the rest of you! You may be the future king, but you aren’t one yet! I demand a reconsideration!”

He was startled, but only for a minute. By the time she stood before him, he had regained his ever-cool composure.

Pretending to think, Fili hummed. He then smiled back down at her, but in a very smug way.

“Okay, I’ve reconsidered,” he said, earning a slight glimmer of hope from the woman, “and the answer is still no.”

Growling, she pushed his chest backwards. She spoke with much fury, which did nothing to unnerve the Dwarf.

“How dare you!” she shouted again, with anger written all over her face. “Why? WHY? Why must you always be like this? You treat me the way the men from certain human dwellings treat their spouses – like nothing more than little housewives!”

Fili blushed at this. Did she not hear her own words? Oh, if only she knew how close her accusations were. Of course, he didn’t do this for any narcissism. No, Fili did this for reasons he thought Y/n surely must have already known.

Kili told him how to acquire a woman’s heart – ‘they like it when you’re mean to them, sends their hormones haywire’, Kili had said one day.

Perhaps his little brother was wrong, though? Y/n certainly didn’t hold love in her eyes. Instead, she revered him in disdain. That was not what he wanted.

“You do not know of what you speak of,” Fili warned, raising his brows in gesture.

“Oh? Then perhaps you’d like to clarify for me? Because I’m lost,” Y/n seethed again. She folded her arms over her chest, and quirked a brow.

Fili was at a loss himself. He stammered over his words, before he realized none could form, and sighed.

Dissatisfied with his lack of response, Y/n flared her nostrils. She bared her teeth, and began shouting again. If he would not answer, then she would fill the silence.

“Why do you say nothing?” she began, revving up in her tone, which only hastened Fili’s heart, with every passing second. “Why? Why do you treat me so poorly? Why am I to be sidelined, when all my friends must fight?”

“It simply has to be this way,” Fili said at last, shaking his head at the ground.

“Why, though?” she tried again.

“Because, I said so,” Fili once more said, feeling his own anger boil.

“Yes, but why?”

“Because, I said so,” he growled again.

“But WHY?”

“Oh, for the love of Durin, because I LOVE YOU!”

“Yes, but why-“ Y/n had gone to say.

However, the moment his words met her mind, she halted. What had he just said? Surely her ears deceived her?

“What?” she next quietly whispered.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, and studied her nervously. Well, there was no turning back now.

“The reason I do not wish for you to be on the battlefield,” he slowly began explaining, “is because I care, very deeply, for you, Y/n. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

A pregnant pause ensued.

Oh.

Oh dear.

Pursing her parted lips, it was now Y/n’s turn to stutter and stammer. However, when no words of her own would form, she closed her mouth.

She stared at the ground for a moment in thought. Fili picked at his drawstring faster, for he figured she would now reject him.

Dammit, Kili, he thought. He knew he should not have taken his little brother’s relationship advice. That darned brunette couldn’t even grow a beard!

Lost in his seething thoughts regarding Kili, Fili was startled, as Y/n spoke again.

“Well…that certainly places things in a different perspective,” she said at last.

“A good perspective? Or a bad one?” Fili bemusedly pressed.

“That depends,” Y/n shrugged, “I wouldn’t wish to court someone who taunts and belittles my skills as a warrior.”

“I never meant to do such a thing,” Fili apologised, shaking his head. “I merely only want you safe, and as for the taunting, well…let’s just say Kili gives terrible advice.”

Unsatisfied with his lack of accountability, Y/n quirked a brow. Noticing this, Fili sighed again. He slumped his shoulders, and pressed on.

“And…let’s also just say, for argument’s sake, that I’m quite stupid?” he tried.

This gently extracted a bright grin from Y/n.

“Aye, that works better,” she warmly remarked.

Both then laughed, and reduced the bubbling tension in the room, to nothing but mist. Catching the other’s eye, both slowly died down. Y/n saw Fili in a new light – someone worthy of her consideration. Of course, Fili would still have to work for her approval, nonetheless.

“I’ll tell you what,” she began, “I’ll consider removing the layers in my heart, as to search for what I really feel towards you, if you allow me in this fight. I’ll have no such partner denying me the thrill of a battle.”

“Aye, you certainly love fighting…” Fili sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Indeed, and I’d urge you to make haste and find an answer, before you earn yourself another one,” she sassed.

Unable to fight the grin over her attitude, one he knew certainly couldn’t be missed in their ranks on the battlefield, Fili responded.

“Very well,” he said at last, “I will…step aside, although, let it be known that it deeply irks me!”

Rising up on her tiptoes, Y/n planted a swift kiss to his cheek. Fili then turned five shades deeper, and felt his mind burn into nothing but revving sparks.

“Good choice,” she commended. She then made a move to string up his armour, and spoke again. “Now, how would you like to assist me with putting my own armour on?”

[hellonoblesky]

School got me worn out so here's my team dynamic HCs

It's Kaeya, Xingqiu, Diluc, and Ayaka atm hngjfhgdjfg

Kaeya

This man is so tired, Archons please let him rest

Has to pick up his week's paperwork from Jean every Monday when we go to Mondstadt to buy food supplies and stuff before fighting Andrius, gets to work on it while Diluc and the Andrius team go at it

Actually is the person who keeps the whole party safe, has pulled Xingqiu away from ledges while he's reading more times than he can count, makes sure everyone has food at all times, and keeps the schedule in line

Has a flask of Death After Noon that he keeps on him, has to actively keep it away from Xingqiu because the kid's curious

He is so tired he is the reason the party only gets up to leave at like noon because he sleeps in

Thinks he's good enough at hiding his anxiety that no one else has noticed

He is not, they've all noticed him shaking visibly at high speeds in 90-degree weather and the kids will do their best to avoid fraying his nerves on a bad day

Very kind to Xingqiu and Ayaka, kinda like a cool uncle? Buys them things even though they can afford it

Kinda lets the kids do what they want and chat while he keeps them safe and the whole party on their way

Absolute tank, balances his skillset out so he can manage most threats alone, no one has to get hurt, they can just travel, it's fine it's fine

Pretends to casually bring up stuff the kids want to do (after meticulously making sure the party would be in the right place at the right time)

"Xingqiu, we have time to kill, care to show us to the Wanwen Bookhouse? We can see if they have the next issue in that book series you're always reading! :)"

"Ayaka, you wanted to try some Liyuen cuisine, didn't you? We have a dear friend who just so happens to be a chef at Wanmin Restaurant! And since we're in Liyue anyway, we should swing by, shouldn't we?"

He tries his best to find something Diluc wouldn't mind doing too! Usually, Diluc turns him down but Kaeya has scored on occasion!

"C'mon Diluc, you can't have lost all your taste for reading, right? I hear Inazuma has some interesting books nowadays, what with all the isolation..."

Basically, he just tries his best and is so tired please let him rest

Diluc

This man is angry all the time but he doesn't mean to be. He's just unnerved because he's basically back to hunting Fatui in other nations. He just isn't alone this time and the Fatui aren't the focus

He's so annoyed that they don't leave until Kaeya wakes up, actively in denial about the fact that he himself wakes up only an hour earlier and everyone else is waiting for much longer

Runs right into danger all the time please someone tell this man to calm down he is the reason they need so much food

Does and takes a whole lot of damage at the same time and it stresses Kaeya out so much

Was not Pleased to find out he'd be stuck traveling with Kaeya, puts up with it because he can't bring himself to turn down the Traveler's request. Because in his eyes they're just a kid trying to find their family and he really can't turn down their plea for help in

Gets along surprisingly well with Xingqiu, they both enjoy reading, and often recommend books to each other! Diluc has no idea Xingqiu wrote Legend of a Sword, but the only reason for that is that he literally forgot the book name

"Hmm... in Mondstadt we have this book, The Fox and the Dandelion Sea? For a traditional Mondstadt fairytale, it does remind me of Inazuma, funnily enough. There are versions of the book that are watered down for younger children, but if you have the time I'd recommend the full novelization."

"Tales From the Waves? No, I haven't read that. Is it good?" ... "A novelization of an old ship captain's life? That does sound interesting... I'll pick up a copy when I can"

Gets along well with Ayaka as well, they both appreciate the arts and such so they talk about that

"In Mondstadt we don't have nearly as many festivals as they do in Inazuma... but when we do they're quite the occasion, and very dear to people's hearts. There would be rioting in the streets if the Windblume Festival was postponed..."

"Oh Mond has its fair share of dance traditions, but they fell to be a staple of the Lawrence rule, so not many traditional dances remain... although if you wish to learn more about them you could ask Kaeya to introduce you to the Knight's Recconacance Captain. She doesn't like me very much"

Is the one person who actually doesn't realize that Kaeya is anxious All The Time, literally could watch him shake uncontrollably as Venti walks by and think it was his Vision acting up, he has all the pieces to put the puzzle together but has lost interest in it

Xingqiu

Top ten reasons the party gets sidetracked, number one: Xingqiu finding a book and getting so into it that he doesn't notice people

Actually besties with Ayaka he thinks she's really cool!

Top ten reasons why Kaeya actually gets to sleep as long as he does, number one: Xingqiu jumping up and yanking Diluc's hair when he tries to wake him up

"You're 22 you can go get breakfast by yourself, my leige"

Infodumps about his books to the whole party while they're eating dinner regardless of if they're listening or not (they are, they always are)

Pulls out relevant trivia out of nowhere?? Like they'll be stuck in some ruins and Xingqiu just

"Hey, you know this specific style of ruins are known to be built with metal hatches that always lead to escape routes :)"

Or like

"Oh yeah, the coloration in the animals is different here because the plants in Inazuma so often have purple and blue pigmentation, and Inazuma is so naturally isolated, that the animals adapted to get their pigments partially from the foliage!"

And no one knows how or why he knows this much but he Does??

Also, knows everyone's favorite bird for some reason and talks about them, why? Idk I think he'd like birds!!

"A peacock? Oh, I've never even seen one of those! I hear they're lovely, but a little noisy. Sometimes we get feathers imported for design reference at the Feyun Commerce Guild though!"

"Umbertail Falcon, right? Ohh I hear they can be very loyal, right? Ahh, so that's why yours flys down to check in on you? That's lovely! Owls? Oh yeah, those are cool birds, you know their feathers are fanned out just right so they're entirely silent while flying!"

"Herons? Oh yeah, that's what your title is, right? Graceful... I think they're more stealthy, very good at waiting to strike. That's how they hunt, you know? Just being patient and stealthy, then striking. That's also why they're so graceful standing there all the time!"

Bummed that he's the only person in the party without a bird as his constellation tbh, but he's alright with it because he's got books!!

Mentioned Albedo and Kaeya almost choked on his food, Xingqiu thought this was hilarious

Routinely plays pranks on Diluc and occasionally manages to pull a deez joke on Kaeya, leaves Ayaka alone with the pranks though because he knows she's new to all of this

Ayaka

Oh this poor girl, Lumine just dropped her off with Mondstadt's most dysfunctional siblings and a kid who reads at the speed of light and said have fun

Really gets along well with Xingqiu!! Having someone with a somewhat similar background is definitely a relief, especially because Kaeya and Diluc intimidate her, what with them arguing most of the time they interact

She recognizes the anxiety in Kaeya (because she also has it) so she's a little more comfortable approaching him because of that

She's happy to talk about Inazuma's ruins and is fascinated by Kaeya bringing up similar ruins in Mondstadt and Liyue

She really appreciates him remembering what she's interested in and making time in the day for it!

Diluc on the other hand?? She has... some idea how to talk to him? But?? He is either aggressive or glaring off into the distance at all times, and she's been around long enough to know that he doesn't mean to be like that but it's still unnerving to her

However, she Can talk to him! She is still a little confused because he constantly sounds so grumpy, but she's realized that he's actually really good at listening, and is absolutely willing to talk about Mondstadt traditions! Because she does really like to learn about other nations

Plus, she can go to Xingqiu to answer most of her questions!

"Xingqiu, I- I hope this isn't an odd question, but ah... how exactly do you get used to Kaeya and Diluc? I don't think I've quite figured it out yet..?"

"So in Liyue... the Merchant stalls are on the docks? Like Ritou but it's all on the docks? Interesting..."

"You're the second born of the Feyun Commerce Guild? Oh! Forgive me, I thought you were the eldest, my brother handles most international relations..."

It was really hard for her to adjust to the team, just because of how ragtag it is most of the time, but she's got it by now!

She actually kind of likes the scrappy chaos! She hasn't completely gotten used to it all but she finds it like kind of a break from having to uphold her image at all times

Top five Ayaka quotes and who she said them to:

"They fight a wolf ghost every week...?? Are they ok??" (To Kaeya, about the Andrius team)

"So this is Morax's old... dragon friend...??" (To Xingqiu)

"Wait, you do this every week?" (To Diluc, about the domains)

"Oh!! Oh it is spicy!!!" (To Xingqiu, about Xiangling's cooking)

"Ah... OH! Yes um I uh- *gay hand flip* ?? Is that right??" (Xingqiu was talking about Chongyun)

Also the party went to Dragonspine and Ayaka was actually really interested in Durin because she didn't know that other nations also had odd giant dragon skeletons

[darthstitch]

Say Something

(Or I finally grab my ailing old laptop and decide to write a longer version of the prompt: “Thorin keeps telling Bilbo how much he adores him in Khuzdul and Bilbo does’t know”)

1.  Dwalin has had a long time to get used to Durin-caused bullshit.  

Yes, he’s aware he’s ALSO a Durin.  But his Amad was descended from the ruling family of the Broadbeams and he likes to think that he and Balin got the common sense and intelligence that ancient Dwarrow house was known for.  Because Mahal only knew that the Durins didn’t have it.  At all.  

Case in point: Thorin falling furry arse over boots for that Hobbit.  

So all right, Thorin showed uncommon good sense in that respect.  Bilbo Baggins was a fine cook and the cookies would make any intelligent, self-respecting Dwarf fall on his knees and propose marriage on the spot.  

(Okay, Dwalin didn’t, but that was because he took one look at his King and the Hobbit and just knew....) 

But did Thorin have to go about the whole business like a complete clotpole?

Hence:  

“Mahal’s balls, Thorin, REALLY?” So all right, he was sorry that he’d spewed ale all over poor Kili but the lad should really be better at ducking at dodging at this point.  

Thorin’s suspiciously red ears were the real answer but his King had to snarl, “Shut it, Dwalin!” 

There had been an argument.  Something something Elrond, pointy-ears, not trusting them, better manners.... whatever.  Master Baggins was apparently not the meek and mild little creature they had all taken him for and it was quite amusing to watch the wee one stand up to their grumpy stormcloud King.  

Who apparently found it appropriate to blurt out, in Khuzdul:  “Why are you so confoundedly irritatingly ridiculously ADORABLE, Hobbit?!!” 

Master Baggins had no idea what was actually being said, but the Hobbit simply assumed, based from the surly tone, that Thorin was being Disagreeable and Rude.  So he simply put his nose up in the air and responded with:  “Bless and confound you too, Master Dwarf!”  Then followed this up with a magnificently dramatic exit.  

He did not see Thorin turn all the way red, nor the way Dwalin reached out to grab him by his collar because his royal Durin cousin was suddenly wobbly at the knees.  Look, Thorin was an idiot, but he was still Dwalin’s king AND idiot.  Durin-caused bullshit, right?

Also, Bilbo did not see or hear Fili grumpily handing a bag of coins to Kili. 

All Kili  said in response was:  “Told you so, Fee. Absolute goober.” 

2.   About that bet - Fili and Kili were not stupid.  

Yes, they were young.  And occasionally made some silly decisions.  But that came with the territory and a little silliness added some fun and excitement to one’s life.  

But yes, the brothers both observed their uncle falling for their Hobbit.  

The nature of the bet was HOW Thorin would go about wooing the Hobbit. 

Fili was of the opinion that Thorin would behave in a manner befitting his status as a King and of the House of Durin.  In short, Thorin Oakenshield would be every brooding, swoon-worthy, romantic hero in those Dwarrow romances that their Amad adored and that Fili claimed he never read (nope nope nope - never - what are you talking about).

Kili knew better.  He knew his Uncle Thorin would be a complete and utter walnut.  A total goober over their Hobbit. 

And yes, Bilbo had become “their” Hobbit in very short order.  The sons of Dis knew how to recognize a true treasure when they found it.   So it was easy for them to adopt Bilbo Baggins as part of their family and had no problem telling him so. 

Bilbo’s smile, the hugs he bestowed on “you dear, dear lads” and the extra portions of stew with mushrooms that they got for dinner that night, confirmed that it was the right decision.  Also, who knew that mushrooms could be so amazingly delicious? 

Bilbo giggled, “I’ll make hobbits of you lads yet.  Or since you’re still dwarves, hmm... maybe dwobbits would be better?”

“Dwobbits?!!” was the exclamation of nearly every member of the company. Because of course they were listening in, the nosy buggers.  

“Dwobbits,” Ori said thoughtfully.  “Has a nice ring to it.”  And of course, this immediately went into his journal. 

“Dwobbits... that would explain much about the Line of Durin,” Balin mused.  He twinkled at Thorin, whose ears were once again, that tell-tale shade of red.  The erstwhile King of Erebor looked rather gobsmacked, as a matter of fact.  “It has been said that Durin’s beloved was not a Dwarf...” 

“Maybe all that hair that should’ve been on your face has gone to your feet, Kili, let me check...” 

“Oi! Leave off, Fili!”

“If Mahal and Yavanna would bless us with dwobbits, I would pray that they would all have your beautiful curly hair and your adorable, kissable nose...” Thorin muttered absently in Khuzdul, not seeing the collective facepalming and coin-purse exchanging of the Dwarves close enough to hear him.  

Bilbo, not understanding of course, frowned at Thorin, even as he absently separated the squabbling boys, gently cuffing them by the ears.  “It’s a bit rude to be nattering about in a language one can’t understand.”

“No, Master Hobbit, I’m simply coming up with some suitable way to explain to my sister how I’ve finally tricked some poor unsuspecting soul into adopting this pair of scamps.” 

“Oi!”

Bilbo calmly handed Thorin his own stew - with a generous helping of mushrooms - and said, “I’m sure you’ll manage, Your Dwobbit Majesty.”  

Bilbo was going to learn Khuzdul eventually.  In fact, he was fairly sure that “Irak’Adadith” meant “Hobbit.”  Yavanna knew that Kili and Fili used the word to refer to him often enough.  

Also, he was quite proud that he DID get all three royal Durins to enjoy mushrooms.  

3.  Nori and Gloin were sensible Dwarves and thus, they mostly contented themselves by running the various betting pools that had sprung up over the romance (yes, Mahal damn it, it WAS a romance and an EPIC one at that) of their King and Hobbit.  

Hilariously, it was Bifur who kept winning most of the bets.  It was almost as if the axe in his head granted him some sort of seer-related powers, enough to rival even Oin’s.  

And yes, Oin was Gloin’s secret weapon as the canny old healer employed his gifts of selective hearing to gather all the needed information.  

“Thorin Oakenshield, WHAT did you just call me?  Bunnanunê? If that means ‘halfling’ - might I remind you, I am a HOBBIT and NOT half of anything, you confounded Dwarf!”

“My tiny treasure, eh?” Oin muttered.  “He’s getting creative with the endearments.”

“Reminds me of my darling mizim and how I wooed her...” Gloin mused. 

“Gloin, EVERYTHING reminds you of your darling wife,” said Nori. 

“And so what if it does -- !”

Bifur interrupted the argument with a smug grin and a clear request for money.  Yes, he won the bet again.  

4.   At this point, Bofur decided to start making toys for any future royal dwobbits.  Bifur was quite, quite sure that Bilbo and Thorin would end up having a tiny, dark-haired and blue-eyed dwobbit at some point.  Maybe there was something to the stories about Hobbits springing up from cabbage patches.  Maybe Bifur really was developing Seer abilities.  

In any case, “Uncle Bofur” would be happy to spoil any dwobbits with toys, while also aiding and abetting in mischief.   

5.  Look, Bombur did his part in all these shenanigans.  He and Bilbo traded recipes throughout the journey and he was definitely NOT imagining the pink in Bilbo’s cheeks when Bombur gleefully disclosed Thorin’s favorite foods.  

He also wasn’t above nudging the odds favorably when Bilbo invariably came up with something new and delicious that Thorin would enjoy.  And yes, he was right there when Thorin inadvertently blurted out an utterly twitterpated marriage proposal to Bilbo that the Hobbit had mistaken for a “thank you.”  

“You’re welcome,” Bilbo had said with a sunny smile.  He wasn’t quite sure why Dwalin was suddenly at Thorin’s side at that point, but he did give them both second helpings of dinner.  

He did chalk up Dwalin’s hand on Thorin’s collar as some sort of Dwarvish shenanigans (really, Dwalin and Thorin sometimes gave Fili and Kili a run for their money when it came to ridiculous mischief).  

Bombur just beamed as he caught the money bags coming his way.  He was actually second runner up to Bifur when it came to the betting.  

6.  There was an ongoing argument between Dori and Balin.  

Balin was of the opinion that Khuzdul was still their sacred, Mahal-given language, and as such, could not be shared with non-Dwarves.  

Dori was of the opinion that Bilbo was a true Dwarf-friend and for Mahal’s sake, SOMEBODY had to do something regarding the truly pathetic pining of their King over his Hobbit.  Yes, it was romantic and adorable but really!

Somebody had to take Bilbo aside and get him to realize what Thorin was really saying, so that their poor king could be put out of his misery.  

And anyway, the Consort-to-Be of the King Under the Mountain should really learn Khuzdul.  

Of course, Balin was merely stalling, because he loved a good argument and he was storing up all these wonderful, wonderful points because he was a good adviser and wanted to aid Thorin in giving any old, conservative, useless, greedy nobles collective apoplexy.  

He also knew that he could count on Dori in throwing any potential threats to Bilbo off the Mountain.  

7.  All right, Ori had enough of this insanity.  

Really, he was as avid a Storyteller as Bilbo was and he simply couldn’t end this tale of fighting dragons, regaining Erebor, tricking woodland Elves etc. etc. with:  “And our King Under the Mountain was a complete and utter walnut who let his Hobbit go back to his Shire without ever letting him know how much he was loved.  The End.”  

Yeah, nope!

So Ori waited and watched for his opportunity and Mahal deigned to bless his efforts.  

They were all currently engaged in the tedious work that scribes and historians generally left out of the tales, but were still important in rebuilding Erebor.  The scene was thus - Ori and Bilbo and Thorin Oakenshield and a pile of paperwork that needed to be worked on.   

It was most peculiar how Bilbo turned pink as he watched Thorin Oakenshield pull out a pair of spectacles from his pocket and put them on.  

“Is there something on my face, ghivashel?”

Oh.  OH.  

“Well, yes, there is.  Something.  On your face.”  Bilbo flailed.  

“Surely you’ve seen glasses before, amrâlimê,” Thorin teased.  

“It is STILL not polite that you keep calling me all these absurd things that you refuse to translate,” Bilbo retorted.  

And at that point, Ori was absolutely DONE.  “I think I would like a pot of tea.  Bilbo?”  

Bilbo eagerly took the offered “out” and all but pulled Ori out of the room, both of them ignoring Thorin, who was definitely not pouting.  Bilbo did assure the King Under the Mountain that he and Ori would return with tea for him as well.  The not-pout was erased with a brilliant smile.  Bilbo waved weakly at him even as it was Ori’s turn to drag him away.  

As soon as they were safely out of earshot, Bilbo slumped against Ori.  “Glasses, Ori.  GLASSES.”

“I know, Bilbo.” 

“How does he still look so MAJESTIC and HANDSOME in GLASSES?  This is most unnecessary, Ori.  This is RIDICULOUS.  And why am I telling you all this?  I’ve gone and lost my mind, that’s it.  Mad Baggins, Mad Bilbo Baggins...” 

“There, there, Bilbo.  If it helps, he feels EXACTLY the same way about you.”  

“Don’t be ridiculous - he’s your King and -- “

“ Amrâlimê means ‘my love,’ Bilbo.” 

“What.” 

“Ghivashel means ‘treasure of all treasures.’  They’re endearments.  Words of love.  Every last one of them.” 

“WHAT.”

Ori smiled.  And anyone else who would have seen the smile on the quiet little Scribe of Thorin Oakenshield’s Company would have called it bright as the sun and terrible as the sea.  

“I’m going to teach you Khuzdul, Bilbo Baggins.”

8.  There was something comforting in confessing his love using his mother-tongue.  

Thorin Oakenshield was quite resigned to the fact that he had lost any hope of gaining his One’s affections after the whole debacle with the Arkenstone and the dragon sickness.  Yes, apologies were made and yes, the friendship had been mended.  

And yet, Thorin was too shamed, too angry at himself to even ask for more.  Bilbo had his home in the Shire, his books, his armchair and the memories of his family.  There was an acorn in his hobbit’s pockets that deserved to be planted at Bag End.  

Bilbo deserved all that, his own happily ever after.  Thorin could never be part of that.  He didn’t deserve it.  

“I wish you would stay with me forever,”  Thorin said one day, as he and Bilbo sat together by the hearth in the King’s own private rooms.  He smiled as he shaped the words in his language and prepared to give Bilbo some excuse, a chance to banter and tease.  

“I want to stay with you forever,” Bilbo suddenly said in near-perfect Khuzdul.  “But you have to tell me why, Thorin Oakenshield.” 

Oh, Mahal.  Mahal have mercy on him.  

“Please say something... ghivashel.  Amrâlimê.”  His darling Hobbit had turned this enchanting shade of pink and suddenly, Thorin found his words, the right words, at long last.  

“Because you’ve had my heart all along, Bilbo Baggins.”  

Also, kisses had to be done here.  Because hearing those words from his Hobbit’s lips meant kisses, kisses that were eagerly returned, that had Hobbit hands twining in his hair and Thorin murmured a heartfelt apology as he saw tears gather in Bilbo’s eyes.  

“I love you too, you confounded, ridiculous Dwarf.”

9.   Bilbo eventually learned that Fili and Kili had been calling him “Little Uncle” the entire time.  He laughed, he cried and then gave the boys extra helpings of pie for dessert. 

A certain Dwobbit with curly dark hair and big blue eyes would always love the stuffed plush dragon that his Uncle Bofur made for him.  Yep, Bifur won the betting pool again.  

No, Fili and Kili absolutely did NOT have furry feet.  But yes, they were proud to be Dwobbits of the Line of Durin.  

Gloin had to be reminded that the Line of Durin tended to find their Ones in the most unconventional ways.  This was the only logical explanation as to why his darling Gimli would eventually end up married to Thranduil’s son, Mahal save them all.  

Many, many generations later, it was said among the Dwarves of Erebor that leaving knitted things and flowers at the feet of the statue of Ori, the Scribe of Thorin Oakenshield’s famed Company, would lead to blessings and luck in love.  

- end - 

#thorin you walnut is the best goddamn tag i’ve ever found - you guys are AMAZING

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Prize *smut*

Fili x Reader

I'd love to see a smutty Fili/hobbit!reader!

Falling in love was something 100% not on the agenda when you followed your brother Bilbo out on a crazy journey to help some dwarves and a wizard reclaim some mountain hundreds of miles away. 

Literally, the only reason you decided to follow along in the first place is because Mr. Gandalf, who you recognized right away during your morning smoke with your brother, said that your extensive knowledge of plants and greenery would serve to be very useful to both the cook and the healer. You didn't know what he meant by that at the time, but you were flattered that he knew of your skills nonetheless. 

Anyways, you went on that long ass journey and became really close with the shorter, still taller than you though, blond-nephew of your employer Thorin Oakenshield. He didn't speak to you right away but you caught his gaze more often then he'd like to admit, and so, having grown tired of his stares and lack of action, you walked up to him one evening and began a conversation.

After you approached him that night, you two became easy friends. Though, you're embarrassed to admit, that you actually thought he was Kili and his brother was Fili for the first week. 

When you called him Kili while the two of you were riding together and he looked at you absolutely baffled, you were mortified to realize that you had mixed them up and nobody bothered to correct you. 

Not even Bilbo! That damn traitor. 

He only laughed it off, and occasionally he'll tease you about it when you're speaking. Like when you call his name, the right one, and he'll say, "Don't you mean Kili?", and positively confuse the hell out of you. You didn't fall for it again after the 3rd time, though.

You don't know exactly what point you began to fall in love with him, maybe around the time at Mirkwood when he protected you so valiantly and declared that he wouldn't let those nasty spiders touch you (of course, he couldn't fulfill that declaration, but it's the thought that counts), and how he refused to be separated from you when the elves literally kidnapped you all and you were worried sick about your brother. It's also possible that you could've fallen for him that one cold night when he gave you his blanket and offered up his spot by the fire so you could keep warm. 

Okay, exactly what point you fell in love doesn't actually matter. 

What really matters is that you fell in love with him, he kissed you, and now he's declared that he loves you  too  and wants to court you. 

That's that. 

And then when the journey came to an end and Thorin went nuts over his stone, Fili stated that his uncle won't bother you as long as he's around(luckily Thorin was very fond of your brother, so you didn't need to worry much). 

There was a battle over treasure (shocking), the three Durin's almost met their maker, and now you're helping to prepare Bilbo for his journey back. When you told him you wouldn't be going back he wasn't surprised, but he was rather dejected and promised over and over than he'd write you often and come to visit whenever chance allows it. 

You stayed by Fili for the majority of his recovery process, and when he finally opened his eyes on that 7th day of unconsciousness (his wounds were the worst by far, so it took longer for him to wake) you were so happy you actually cried. 

"F-Fili!" You had whisper yelled at the time, tears streaming down your cheeks as you grabbed onto his hand and leaned over him since you were kneeling on his bed. 

When those pretty blue eyes of his opened halfway and he looked at you, a small smile came to his face and he mumbled despite the tender moment, "Don't you mean Kili?"

Any other time you would've smacked his arm, but you just laughed and kissed his forehead tenderly. 

He spent another week or so on bedrest, and you were determined to keep him company no matter what. 

Another month passes by before he's fully recovered, and as much as he encouraged you to jump his bones and as much as you wanted to, you abstained and insisted he needs more time to recover. 

---

You were walking around a training grounds area in search of Fili, not really knowing where anything is yet since you spent the majority of your time in Fili's room and the healer's room when you were watching over him. 

Not to mention these halls are huge, and you're but a small hobbit girl attempting to find her way around. 

The distinct sound of blades clanging together reaches your ears, and while you don't see the people causing the noise, you know exactly who it is. 

You turn a corner and see Fili and his brother caught in an intense practice battle, both sweating heavily with trembling arms and twitching muscles. You can tell that they've been at it for a while, and despite your slight displeasure at seeing him working himself so hard, you get it. He was on bed rest for weeks and wasn't permitted to do anything by himself, so now that he's in a better condition he has to spend some of that extra energy. 

Also... as embarrassing as it is, he's pretty damn hot like this. 

You've always been aware of how wonderful Fili is at fighting, and of just how strong he is, but seeing it in a controlled and safe environment is simply a sight to behold.

Seconds of observing tells you all you need to know about this fight, including who the winner is going to be.

Kili is an excellent fighter, but his skill pales in comparison to his brothers, especially where hand-to-hand and sword combat is concerned. He's spent the majority of his time defending and blocking against Fili's attacks, for the blond dwarf leaves no moment of rest or second to breathe. 

When Kili blocks Fili just goes at him with another blow, thus leaving Kili with barely moments to defend himself. 

Something about the way Fili looks in this state makes your insides churn and heart flutter, and you feel weak in the knees when you catch a glimpse of his eyes. While his magnificent baby blues may look soft and tender in a normal setting, here you see nothing other than pure confidence and a powerful, burning desire to completely  destroy  his opponent. Yes, they're brothers, but the power dynamic between the two of them is quite clear. 

When he pushes Kili back he doesn't go for him right away as he had before, rather he stalks around his younger brother much like a predator sizing up its prey. It sends positively wonderful tingles down your spine and causes goosebumps to erupt on your skin.

Gosh, the way he looks at this very moment is enough to make you swoon and sigh, but you remain composed and watch the rest of this fight unfold. 

"Come on now, Kili, surely you've got more than that." His voice is taunting and smug, and it seems to frustrate Kili.

The jeer from Fili only seems to increase Kili's determination and fuels him to go on the offensive this time. When Kili does manage to get in a good swipe and forces Fili to jump back, his intense gaze turns into something that promises nothing good. He goes at Kili again full force and manages to knock him down, pointing his sword at his throat with a triumphant smirk on his face. 

Damn, why can't he put you in your place like that? 

You surprise yourself with this line of thinking and attempt to shake it away quickly, continuing to watch them to see how this victory is handled. 

Kili drops his sword and puts his hands up in a surrender motion, sighing in frustration. "You win, you win." He grumbles none too happily, getting back to his feet when Fili lowers his sword. 

Since they're no longer distracted, you step further into the room and clear your throat. 

When Fili sees you, a bright smile spreads across his face, "Y/N! How long have you been there?" He asks in a pleased voice, striding towards you with his arms open to embrace you. 

You jump up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly while he spins the two of you around a couple of times. 

When he stops you get a view of Kili, who is cringing over exaggeratedly and acting like he's totally grossed out. 

Fili, still holding onto you, turns to say something to Kili before his eyes narrow at said brothers dramatic distaste for your affection, "Do I need to beat you in another challenge?" 

The brown-haired brother only rolls his eyes and starts to head towards the exit of the room, "Shut up you foul winner. If this were a bow fight you'd stand no chance." He then leaves before Fili can retort. 

Quiet giggles leave you at the theatric exit and slightly clever one-liner that Kili makes, only Fili doesn't seem to find it very funny. 

"Are you  laughing ?" He asks exasperatedly, putting you back down on your feet with his hands on your shoulders. 

You reach up to cover your mouth with your hands to stifle the tittering, but it doesn't prove to work too well because you only burst into another fit of giggles. 

The blond dwarf glares down at you, though not too seriously, and drops his hands from your shoulders. "It wasn't even that funny..." He huffs. 

Eventually, your laughs quiet down and you look behind him at the discarded weapons they left behind. "Shouldn't you clean that up?" 

"Probably." Oh great, one-word answers. 

You tap your foot a few times then walk over and begin to pick things up in your small arms, carrying them over to the weapons rack as you return them to their previous places. "You should be more careful, you know. You could reopen that wound on your chest." You scold lightly, straightening an ax that was turned awkwardly. 

"I'm fine." His voice comes from directly behind you, and not having heard him walk over to you, you jump and drop one of the daggers resting in your arms. 

He grabs it before it can stab your poor hobbity foot and gives you a smug expression much like the one he gave his brother, "See? My reflexes are as sharp as ever, love." 

You only huff much like he had earlier and put the last of the weapons up, not replying. 

"Do I need to prove it to you?" He asks suddenly. 

You look back at him with your eyebrows furrowed, "How would you do that?" 

"We can wrestle." 

"Wrestling with you is never fair!" You complain, crossing your arms over your chest, "You always win." 

It seems your complaints only amuse him, "And why do you think that is?" 

"Um, because you're like, one thousand times stronger than I am! I'm just a dainty little hobbit." Yes, wrestling with him just to see that beyond sexy face again would be nice, but you don't much like the thought of being beaten so easily. 

"That is most certainly a lie." He retorts, grabbing your arm and squeezing your bicep, "You've got some muscles. Remember that time you knocked me over with just your elbow?" Yeah, he's definitely trying to sweet talk you right now. 

"Yes I do remember, it was accidental, and I cracked you in the nose so hard you started to bleed." You still feel guilty when you think about it. 

"Come on, it'll be fun." He insists, pulling you up against him by your arm, "I'll even fight with a handicap. I'll keep one hand behind my back." 

Well, that does sound a bit more fair.

You pout at him for a few seconds before caving in. "Fineeee," you groan, dragging out the 'e', "But you're still going to win." 

You let him drag you over to the area covered in softer ground, groaning and whining the whole way. 

Once the two of you are there, he places you in front of him and steps back, opening one arm wide while putting the other behind his back. "Alright, come at me." 

Despite his invitation to attack him, you just kinda stand there for a moment and don't move. Your hope is that you can wait him out, but you have no such luck because he just stands there as still as a statue. 

You kinda just take a few steps forward and jump into him suddenly, trying to push him off balance by throwing all of your weight into it, but it does little in the take-down department. 

He wraps his arm around you and takes a few steps back before using one of his feet to kick one of your legs out from under you. 

Lucky for you, you have big hobbit feet so you're able to regain your footing easily and you jump back away from him. "Maybe you should take back a leg too!" You exclaim, not waiting for him to open his mouth to respond before jumping on him again. 

You realize that you have to be strategic about this, so when you wait until he's focused on replying to you to attack him, it actually works in your favor. 

You wrap your arms tightly around the back of his neck and dig your heels into the ground in an attempt to pull him down. He bends forward slightly and wobbles, but he doesn't fall over like you hoped he would. 

Fili grabs for you with his free hand, but you let go and duck under his arm. 

Since you're smaller you can move much faster, so while he recovers from throwing his weight into grabbing onto your clothes, you jump up on his back and wrap your arms and legs around him. 

This actually serves to work pretty well, because he falls forward and lands face-first on the mats below.

He grunts when he hits the ground, his arms and legs sprawled out in every direction since he didn't have enough time to break his fall before you jumped him. 

You settle your self on his lower back and sit on him like that, knees bent and feet pointing the opposite direction of where you face.

"I got you!" You exclaim exultantly, bouncing on his back a few times from excitement. 

Of course, your victory is short-lived, because he sits up on his hands and knees very suddenly.

Not having expected this, you lose your balance and fall sideways off of him, landing on the ground with a soft 'oof.'

He sits on his knees and reaches for you with the hand he's allowed to use, but you roll away just in time, so he only catches air. 

When you roll off to the side he follows you with his gaze, the playfulness and amusement no longer present as an expression much similar to earlier forms on his face. That same fierce glower that holds no actual malice but still promises problems if you defy him. Only, there's something much more wolfish and ravening than when he was looking at his brother, something that promises a  different  type of problem if you pull that again. 

This time when he lunges at you, you're much too slow in response since you were rather distracted in observing the way he was looking at you, so he hits his mark and grabs onto your wrist and tugs you toward him. 

In a test of brute strength or stamina, he would certainly win every time, but you've got a few things in your favor that he doesn't. One being how lithe you are, and another is your excellent acting. 

As soon as he tugs you forward you cry out a bit more dramatic than necessary and watch as all signs of competitiveness leave his expression. His grip on you goes lax as concern sparkles in his ever lovely blue eyes, but when you smile mischievously he realizes that he's been duped. 

The instant his grip on you relaxes, you wrench your arm away and push him onto his back, landing on top of him with your arms stretched out in front of you, your chest pressed against his, and your knees resting on either side of him. 

You sit up quickly and grab his only usable hand with both of yours and pin it to his chest, smiling brightly, "I got you again!" 

A spark of annoyance flickers on his face when you speak down to him so smugly behind the false chipper attitude, and where he would usually just let you have this one, he instead bucks his hips upwards suddenly and propels your forward. 

You shriek in surprise and jut your elbows out so you don't smash your poor face into the floor, and while his actions didn't completely throw you off, he moved you forward enough that you had to let go of his hand and give him more room to move. 

He wraps his now freed hand around your waist and rolls the both of you over, moving his hand so you don't land on it, then placing it on your chest to keep you pinned to the ground. 

Your legs kick out as you try to stop him from getting on top of you (it's all over the moment he sits on you), but he just swings his leg over you and straddles your hips instead. There is a very telling hardness pressing down onto you, but you elect to ignore that since you're upset he didn't let you win. 

As hard as you try and as much as you squirm around and try to push him off, you know that you can't, so you, ultimately, stop your thrashing and just lay there and look up at him with a pout. "I thought you were gonna let me win..." You whine, pushing on the hand holding you down to signal that you're not planning on moving around anymore. 

"Why would I do that?" He asks, letting both of his hands drop (the one behind his back as well) to the mats by your head. 

"Because... Because I wanted you to?" You try, though you know that is not a sufficient answer. 

He ignores your spotty response and continues to look at you intensely. That fire in his eyes has yet to extinguish, you realize, and when he begins to lean down a bit closer your face flares red. 

"Now for my prize." He growls lowly, smashing his lips against yours before you can say something sassy or argue. 

You all but melt into him, reaching up to bury your hands in his wild golden mane so you can tug him closer by the roots of his hair. 

He wastes no time in claiming your mouth as his own, allowing his hands to wander as they please along the places he can easily reach on your body. 

Every pleased whimper and sigh that leaves you is muffled by his harsh all teeth and tongue lip-lock, but you find that you quite like the way he's absolutely kissing the daylights out of you. 

His large hands run under your tunic and slide upwards towards your chest. He has no issue in removing your bindings, and as soon as they're out of the way he grabs onto your breasts. 

You tug at his hair lightly to indicate that you need to breathe, and he complies right away and moves his head down to mouth along your neck. Shallow but quick pants cause your chest to rise and fall hastily, though your pulse and breathing don't slow at all given his ministrations against your chest and neck. 

The gentle sucking and small licks he leaves along your throat turn into harsher nipping, scraping, and biting, but you don't mind that in the slightest and only tilt your head back further to give him better access to you. 

His hands leave your breasts suddenly, causing you to whine out of displeasure, but you don't have long to dwell on that disappointment because suddenly a very audible ripping sound registers in your mind.

You don't move at first, looking down at your torn tunic with shock before you yank on his hair sharply in an attempt to get him to look at you and notice that you very much did not appreciate that. Your actions don't quite have the effect that you hoped they would, though, because he just groans in a  very  pleased way and continues to attack your neck with affection. 

"Fili!" You scold loudly, pulling on his hair again to make him look at you. 

This time he allows you to pull his head back a bit and looks at you questioningly, "What?" It seems he doesn't quite see the error of his ways. 

"Um, you just destroyed my shirt? And in case you've forgotten, we're in the middle of the training rooms and I can't very well walk around without a tunic." You don't sound nearly as annoyed as you hoped you would, but you keep the cross expression on your face. 

He rolls his eyes at you and sits up, pulling off his own shirt and placing it on the ground next to your head, "You can have that when I'm done." 

Your sour expression doesn't change.

This time he sighs heavily and seems to take you more seriously, "Fine, put it on and I'll take you to my room." 

Postponing your activities isn't the most appealing idea, but you much prefer that to the teasing you'll get if anyone walks in on you. 

You sit up slowly and pick up his shirt, cringing at the dampness of it before pulling it over your head.

As soon as you've put his shirt on he stands up, leaning down only to grab you by the waist and pick you up. After he picks you up, he haphazardly throws you over his shoulder and places his hand around your waist so you don't fall. 

Oh god, you pray that no one stumbles upon the two of you.

You hear him grumbling about 'high-maintenance hobbit women' and 'just wanting to take her right then and there for being so insolent and sneaky'. That last part makes you splutter and smack him on his back lightly. 

"I was not being insolent or sneaky!" You protest.

His response is a sharp slap on your bottom, and when you yelp in a high-pitched voice, he laughs at you.

Suffice to say, you don't speak anymore until he arrives at your rooms. 

The door opens, and as soon as the two of you are through it he closes it with his foot and rushes you toward the bed, dropping you down on the fluffy mattress without a second thought. 

You bounce a few times when he plops you down, but you don't complain this time and just scoot back a bit. "I can't believe you spanked me in the middle of the hallway." You grumble indignantly, glaring up at him. 

Instead of seeing amusement or joy on his face, though, you see a dwarf driven by an insatiable, ravenous hunger that can only be doused by you, apparently. He doesn't even answer your silly scolding like he usually does.

A wolfish smirk spreads across his lips as he climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping down on either side of you beneath his weight as he leans over you. 

He doesn't hesitate in ripping his shirt off of you and over your head (yeah, he won't ruin his own shirt, but yours is fine for the destroying apparently!), and your bottoms follow quickly after. 

Fili grabs you under your thighs and lifts you up a bit, bringing you to the head of the bed so you can rest back comfortably against the pillows. "You're mine for the rest of the night, love. I hope that doesn't bother you..." He whispers next to your ear, allowing his hands to explore the expanse of your stomach and along your breasts much like earlier.

"Y-You won fair and square." You reply coyly, reaching down to begin tugging at the hem of his tented trousers to pull them down. 

Once you've gotten them past his muscled thighs, you lightly grab his impressive length and squeeze gently, watching as his eyes flicker shut briefly and feeling the way he twitches in your hand. 

Much to your surprise, though, he grabs your wrist and pins it down to the pillows by your head, kissing your lips again, "Amrâlimê*" He growls out with a bit of strain, it seems he didn't really want to stop you after all, "Just let me work."  *my love.

You nod your head once, though you still pout, and just look back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

It seems he takes your expectancy as some sort of challenge, because he releases your hand and rubs his own between your legs to feel you. "Well will you look at that." He whispers smugly, sliding his fingers through your folds easily, "I haven't even done much, amrâlimê...," he pauses as something seems to dawn on him, and when he speaks again, his voice is practically a purr, "Oh, I see what's going on here." 

"W-What do you mean?" You ask breathlessly, shivering at the feeling of finally being touched where you want him most. 

He continues to tease your sex, never putting enough pressure or touching you exactly where you want, and presses his nose into your hair at the side of your head so his lips hover just above your ear. "I think you know." 

Truthfully, you don't know what he's talking about, or at least you think you don't, but you don't show any signs of agreeing or answering him.

"Well, if you really don't know..." He nips at your earlobe lightly, dipping one of his fingers inside of you briefly before pulling it out and continuing to teasingly and too-gently rub you. "Answer me this, my dear hobbit, how long were you watching me fight Kili? How long were you standing there, watching me as I showed him who was in charge?" His words are positively filthy, but for some reason it serves to only excite you further. 

"I-I don't know... A little while?" You say it as more of a question, because truthfully, you don't know how long you were there. You were so entranced by him and the powerful, almost feral wildness and love for challenge that you didn't really keep track of time. All you could focus on was his predatory expression and how much you wanted it trained on you. 

Oh.

A look of realization spreads across your face, and though he can't see it, the change in your body language tells him all he needs to know.

"You know what I think?" He asks lowly, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his waist as he lines himself up with your awaiting heat.

You shake your head, eyes falling shut and brows furrowing with anticipation. 

He pushes into you slowly, he's always careful at this part knowing that you're still just a tiny thing, and buries one of his hands into your curly head of hair, "I think that you stayed to watch for so long because you wanted me to do the same to you." His voice is more breathy from finally being inside of you, but he continues, "I think you wanted me to challenge you to wrestle just so you could lose and have me like this." 

He's already begun to set a steady pace, one that isn't particularly fast on the way out, but on the way back in he practically slams into you, causing your body to jolt upwards with each thrust. "Y-You wanted me to lose my head, that's the only reason you cheated and pretended I hurt you, just so that I would slam you onto the ground and have my way with you." His words are just as impactful even though his voice breaks a few times, and as embarrassing as it is, he might just be right. 

"I don't know." You reply lamely, scratching at his muscled back at the maddening sensation of his too gentle thrusts. 

When you claim not to know, he slows further and lays his forehead against yours. 

As much as it pains him to hold back so much, he wants to hear it from you, yourself. "Did it excite you to see me put him in his place, love?" He asks huskily, squeezing your hips pretty harshly, "Did you stand there for so long because the mere thought of having me turn my sights onto you under the small chance that I would grab you and make you mine right then and there, was too much to bear?" 

"A-Ah, yes, Fili!" You cry suddenly when his hips snap forward more sharply and his thumb lands on your clit to begin lightly stroking over it, "I wanted you so bad, I-I just didn't realize it!" You admit breathlessly, clawing at his back desperately, "Please, just take me properly, I can't stand the teasing..!" Normally you'd be too proud to plead, but being so close to satisfaction only for it to slip from your grasp each time was beginning to eat at your sanity. 

Your honesty is rewarded with a faster pace and more firm circles being rubbed on your twitching clitorus. This new change makes you cry out as you've finally got what you want, so you tighten your leg around him in hopes of pulling him deeper inside of you. 

"Say my name again, amrâlimê." He groans as he starts to leave kisses along your jawline and cheeks. 

"F-Fili..." You whimper, running one of your hands into his hair.  

"Louder." This time he says it as more of a command, snapping his hips up into yours roughly. You respond to his actions right away by crying out his name louder. 

The floodgates open, and suddenly his teasing steady pace turns into erratic ruts and juts forward that push you up each time. 

The hand he fisted in your hair yanks back, though not too hard, so he can press his face to your neck and leave more evidence of your deeds. 

During a particularly hard thrust, he bites you much harder than before, and the mixture of intense pleasure and stinging pain elicits a loud and rather high pitched gasping moan from you, and that sound alone drives him crazy.

He begins saying things in his dwarfish tongue that you can't understand, though from the breathiness of his voice and the timing in which he says things in Khuzdul, you can tell that it's either praises or more indecent phrases. 

You entangle one of your hands into his hair and tug at it gently, urging him upwards so he can kiss you again. He readily complies and covers your mouth with his own once more, reaching down to grab your leg still laying on the bed and pulling it up to wrap around his waist much like the other one. 

The hair on his chest scratches at your softer skin each time he thrusts into you, and while there's the very real possibility that you could get irritated skin from it, you still find yourself enjoying every sensation he brings you. You can feel each breath and twitch of his muscles as well as each slight squeeze of your thigh and small tug at your hair. Just as you can feel all of him, he can feel all of you. Every hitched breath, gasp, and tremble can be heard and felt clearly, and the way you clench around him and scratch at his firm back sends sharp feelings of pleasure spiking through him.

The cool beads of the braids on his mustache rest against your cheeks and his nose presses into the side of yours as he kisses you, and it provides a nice contrast against your burning skin. 

All of the sensations of him and this mind blowing intimacy begin to build up and fuel a greater flame inside of you, and pretty soon you're toes are curling on the sheets and your hands are tugging more and more at his hair. He can tell from this sudden shift that you're nearly there, so, wanting to help you find release, he moves his hand back down and rubs firm circles against your bundle of nerves in time with each erratic plunge into you. 

He can feel the beginning of his own end start to approach, so he becomes more determined to have you come so you won't feel dissatisfied in any way. 

It seems his ministrations on your sensitive clit are exactly what you need to push you over the edge, because mere seconds later you're crying out and tensing around him as your nails dig into the hard planes of his back. 

Fili breathes in sharply and grips your leg with a bruising force, much harsher than he meant to unfortunately, at the newfound tightness squeezing his manhood. 

The feeling of your climax brings him to his moments later, and since he doesn't have to worry about you becoming over-sensitive just yet, he allows himself to properly ride the both of you through your orgasms, his mouth leaving yours so you can both breathe properly. 

Your legs pull him impossibly closer as he spends himself inside of you and you slowly start to come down from your high. When you start to flinch and move he stops all movement and all but collapses on top of you, his hand leaving your now slightly aching thigh to push some of your hair out of your face. 

He peers down at your sated and tired face with pure adoration in his eyes while he strokes his knuckles lightly down your cheek after moving your curly and now damp hair from your eyes. He leaves another, gentler kiss against your lips as he pulls out of you delicately, frowning slightly as you wince when your legs drop back to the bed. 

His gaze flickers down and he sees the angry indented finger-marks that he unintentionally left on you, and right away he feels a little guilty, even more so when he gets a view of the indents of his teeth on your shoulder. 

You don't notice his regretful expression right away, but when you do see his less than happy countenance you cup one of his cheeks and ask tiredly, "Fili? What's wrong?" 

Those pretty baby blues flicker up to your own eyes once more and he mumbles shamefully, "I've hurt you." 

Your head shakes and your eyebrows knit together in confusion when he says that he hurt you, because you really have no clue what he's talking about. "What? You hurt me? When?" 

"Just now."

He glances back down at your bruised leg again and this time you follow his gaze, and when you see what he's talking about you release a small puff of laughter, "Is that what you're referring to?" You wonder with a smile on your face, running your fingers through his sweaty hair so you can look at his face more clearly. 

He nods.

"What happened to all of that talk about my liking your rough treatment, hm?" Your voice takes on a more teasing tone, though there is still a softness to it since you feel bad that he feels bad about 'hurting' you. "Are you no longer confident in your conclusion, my sweet prince?" 

His eye twitches in annoyance at the nickname, but he doesn't address it and instead shakes his head, "I know I was right, but that will most definitely be sore later on." 

Ever the cocky thing he is. 

"And if I say that I like it anyways?" 

This time he looks at you more in surprise, and for the first time since this day began, you see a hint of red warming his face, "Did you really?" He asks, rather unsure. 

You nod your head, then remove your hands from his hair and wrap them around his middle, closing your eyes as you get more comfortable. "Mmhm... I like everything you do. Now lets go to sleep." 

"Alright, alright." He shifts positions so he's no longer crushing you underneath him, then gathers you up in his arms and pulls you more firmly against him, resting his chin atop your head. "I would be careful about the things you tell me you like though, love. Because then I'll be more inclined to do them..." He mumbles, rubbing his strong hand up your back. 

You giggle softly and press a small kiss against his neck before pressing your hands to his chest, "Isn't that the whole point?" 

"Just remember that you asked for it." He teases, shutting his eyes so he can rest. 

"I will." 

[whenputtingpentopaper]

The Song

Part I - Kili’s Mistake

Part: I 

A/N: I know the imagine is five years old, but I always loved reading the works that came of it. This is my own spin on the prompt, and there will be multiple parts. This is just the first. This is also my first work for this blog, and I’m very happy to get it out there. It was a joy to write over the past week. Also, the song is the Celtic Women’s version of Mo Ghile Mear, which is originally based on a poem about the Jacobite Rising of 1715. It has an interesting history, but I picked this version because it was the one that came to me when I thought of what the reader might sing. Because it isn’t native to Middle Earth, I changed the meaning of the song a bit; although, if you look at the translated lyrics of the chorus, it could imply the meaning I have assigned to it. Please, give it a listen; everything about it--the vocals, music, lyrics--are beautiful!

Also, requests are currently open, so request here. I am currently accepting requests for headcanons, blurbs, drabbles & one-shots!

Pairing: Kili (Tolkien) x Reader

Words: 2447

Synopsis: Based on the following ImaginexHobbit imagine found here.

Rated: T

Warnings: Language, Nudity & Sexual Themes

Can you feel the river run? Waves are dancing to the sun Take the tide and face the sea And find a way to follow me

The soft lilt of your voice carried through the silence of the night, your only accompaniment the gentle whisper of leaves, the barely there hum of woodland critters, and the sound of drops, rolling down your bare skin to fall to the river from whence they came. Fortunately, the wind was forgiving, tepid against your cooled skin, and the water that surrounded your body up to your waist was the perfect temperature. Refreshing but not freezing.

Leave the field and leave the fire And find the flame of your desire Set your heart on this far shore And sing your dream to me once more

Lifting your arms to bring your brush through another section of hair, you resumed your singing, eyes falling closed.

'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear 'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear

It was an old song but pretty, one your mother had used to sing to you when you were but a wee thing. Her ethereal voice combined with the melodic yet mysterious chorus were enough to soothe you to slumber. It was a comfort, even later on in your life, when you learned of the sad story the lyrics were weaving. A woman losing her love; a heartbreaking premise if there ever was one. And yet, it was as beautiful as the full moon’s reflection on this clear night.

Now the time has come to leave Keep the flame and still believe Know that love will shine through darkness One bright star to light the wave

Scooping up some water with your free hand, you brought the liquid to your right arm, rubbing gently against your skin and removing the dirt and grime that had built up from being on the road the past few days. You switched your brush to the opposite palm, repeating the process on the opposite side. It felt so good to be clean, which was why you couldn’t resist the opportunity to break away from your company of thirteen dwarves and a hobbit to come down to this river. You had known it to be here, having passed it earlier in the evening, just before Thorin had decided it was time they make camp. The lot of them had been so excited to finally sit in front of a fire and eat, but not you. Food could wait. You longed for a bath, knowing the last one you had was back in Rivendell.

'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear 'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear

You began to braid together the locks of your damp hair, having learned your lesson about letting it fly free while you roamed about Middle Earth. As your fingers twisted in and out, you began to head back towards shore, the wind having a slight chill to it now as it hit more and more of exposed skin. You broke out in gooseflesh as your feet left the water for the fine sand that made the shore. Quickly, urged on by the sudden cold and your nakedness, you finished the large plait, securing it with a band before letting it fall limp against your back. 

Lift your voice and raise the sail Know that love will never fail Know that I will sing to you Each night as I dream of you

You waited a few minutes, using your hands to warm your shoulders as you walked over to the small towel you had laid out on a nearby rock. A tunic and trousers lay beside it, without dampness and warm and calling to you, but you took some time to dry yourself off, bending over to start with your legs before bringing the towel over your stomach and chest. Your arms were last, and the air would remove whatever wetness remained on your cheeks.

'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear 'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear

Finally dressed, you gathered your towel and brush, walking back towards the campsite, using deep dwarfish laughter as your guide. There was a slight upslope towards them with trees littering the path you made, but now that you were in a few layers and shoes, you did not mind the walk, continuing to sing softly to yourself until you came to the end of the song. 

A few moments later, you were being greeted by smiles and Bofur asking about your bath.

“It was wonderful, and definitely something I needed,” you responded as you placed your items by your pack before joining the Company around the fire. A bowl was put into your lap, filled about halfway with some stew. It was still steaming, thankfully, and you immediately began to eat, your stomach aching now with the prospect of being filled with food, and Bombur’s food to boot!

“Perhaps we should all partake in a bath before setting out in the morrow,” Bilbo nonchalantly suggested from beside you, and you hid your smile behind the rim of your bowl. He had been complaining of the stench that seemed to permeate the Company; you weren’t the only one having gone without a proper cleansing since your time with the elves.

The golden-haired dwarf was the first to respond to the hobbit’s suggestion, his eyes going wide with mock outrage. “Why, Bilbo, are you suggesting that we stink?”

“You know what, Fili, I think he is suggesting such a thing,” Kili said, lightly hitting his brother’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “The nerve. Especially when he smells just as bad.”

“Aye,” agreed his brother, leaning towards him as he eyed Bilbo with a frown. “If not worse.”

The hobbit looked absolutely livid by the two young dwarves’ banter, and the scowl on his face with his glare directed at them had the opposite effect than what had been desired. The brothers bursted out into laughter, and the rest of the group soon joined in at poor Bilbo’s expense. Even you, who normally took pity on the object of Kili’s and Fili’s wrath were not immune to the infectious hysterics. And so, the rest of the evening continued on with small talk and howling among companions; nothing of any real note happened until you were settling down for the night.

The trouble started as you were laying out your bedroll beneath a tree, close to Bilbo and Kili, who was in the midst of doing the same. Fili was taking first watch, meaning he was away from his younger brother, and therefore, not being influenced to partake in his dastardly whims. The camp was quiet because of this, several of the company’s members already burrowed beneath their blankets, soothed to sleep by the crickets and frogs, voicing their own soothing lullaby. 

But they were not the only ones singing. 

'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear 'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear

It was the brunet Durin, murmuring the words to your song. 

Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear

And there was only one possible way he could have heard it, as you had never, ever sung in the presence of any of the men you were currently traveling with. You couldn’t. Not knowingly. You had an awful case of nerves whenever asked to perform in front of others, so to have learned the lyrics to that song…

“Kili!” his name was a horrified gasp from your lips, and he froze in his work, his back still to you. He had gone silent, the rest of the words dying in his throat when he realized he had been caught.

You stepped over your bedroll before taking another long stride to find yourself leaning down into the young Dwarf’s face, hands on your hips. “How do you know that song?”

Kili audibly gulped, chocolate brown eyes straying from yours as he took a few moments to try and come up with some sort of an excuse, but having you this close to him, even with all your ire drifting off of your form in waves, was chasing away any coherent thought, let alone a proper explanation. And as more time passed in silence, he could feel your glare sharpening, as if getting ready to pierce right through him. His lips parted, having found his throat had gone dry, and he sucked in a bit of air to try and buy himself some more time. Of course, he had nothing to say. What could he say when it was quite obvious just where he had heard that song before?

But your patience had, apparently, run out, and more than anything, you felt the sting of betrayal. This dwarf, this wonderful goofy man-child that you had come to care for, clearly wasn’t the gentleman you had initially learned him to be. All those offerings of hands to keep you from tripping, giftings of his blanket to keep you warmer at night and all those questions regarding your well-being, where had they stemmed from? How could the same person that had been so kind and polite towards you--with the occasional, meaningless prank--peak on you while you were in the middle of a bath? You had told him where you were going because you trusted that he would keep the others from following; it most certainly had not been an invitation for a private viewing party. 

Unable to bear his presence any longer, you spun away from him, crossing the short distance to your bedroll and gathering it up in your arms along with the rest of your things. You walked around the Hobbit, who was currently feigning sleep to make it seem that he hadn’t been listening to your whole exchange with the young prince, and set yourself up so that he was your buffer. The whole while, you felt Kili’s eyes at your back, and when you went to lay down for the evening, in your periphery, you noticed that he had not moved from where you had left him, only now, he looked positively guilty, head hanging and bottom lip in an almost-pout. 

Your heart--infernal thing that it was--ached at his expression. He looked even smaller than usual--being a human, you were taller than him--but you couldn’t let that get to you. What he did was wrong. And the fact he had no explanation for his behavior confirmed the worst for you. He had really just come down to the river to get an eyeful of you; the performance was just an extra, one that had lingered in his mind. 

It stung, and you had trouble falling asleep that night, your back to both Bilbo and Kili. That next morning, it was Fili--not his brother--that had tapped your shoe with the tip of his boot, stirring you from slumber. Dazed, you lifted your head slowly, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Time to get up, Y/N. Thorin wants us to move out soon,” the blond dwarf said with a pitying smile; it was clear that he had woken you from a deep sleep.

Once he had walked off, you gave yourself a moment and a good stretch before getting to your feet and starting on packing. 

Beside you, Bilbo was just finishing up with his bedroll when he turned to you. The hobbit watched you for a few minutes, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally stepped towards you and said what was on his mind, “I, um, I know it probably isn’t any of my business, but your father did ask that I keep an eye out for you while on this journey. And I, obviously, saw what had happened between you and Kili last night. It isn’t clear to me what had transpired; all I gathered from the situation was that you weren’t happy he knew that song he had been singing. However, if you do feel like talking, know that I am more than willing to lend an ear, should you need it.”

It was a sweet sentiment, one that made you smile at him as you straightened to your full height. “Thanks, Bilbo. I appreciate you being willing to do that for me, but this is really between Kili and I.”

“Understood,” he responded with a nod, curls bouncing with the movement. “But if you change your mind, don’t be afraid to come to me.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Unfortunately for Kili--and Fili, too, who had to hear his brother’s lamenting whenever the two of them were alone--your way of handling the situation was to completely avoid him. If he brought his pony up by yours, you’d urge yours to go a bit faster, moving between two company members so that the brown-haired prince had no choice but to remain behind you. If he tried to talk to you once camp was set, you’d make your way over to Bilbo or Bofur and talk to them as if Kili hadn’t just called your name. If you woke in the morning to find his blanket over you, you’d fold it up and place it by him. But what killed the young dwarf the most was the fact that you wouldn’t even look at him, and you didn’t do it with such conviction, too, as if your eyes landing upon his features would cause you to turn to stone. That was preposterous, of course, but damn it all! He missed you!

For you, there was a simple reason for gazing everywhere but at Kili’s face. If you didn’t see the puppy dog eyes, they would have no effect on you. Plain and simple. Although, after a couple days of this, you were beginning to miss him, too. This had gone on for long enough. It was childish behavior on your part--both Bilbo and Fili had said so--but they did not know what he had done! And to fix things between the two of you, a talk would have to happen, one you weren’t sure you were ready to have since it would involve bringing up the fact he had been peeping on you down at the river.

So things continued to be painful for the Company, as neither of you could find the will to broach the subject with the other, until the two of you had no choice but to have that awkward conversation. 

The setting? Mirkwood’s dungeon.

[rogue-durin-16]

THE FLOWER IN THE FORGE (part I/II)

Request: Thorin x fem human! reader please where they meet in Ered Luin during Thorin’s blacksmith days, she bonded with the rest of the Durins too especially Dis, so just cute & stuff until finally Thorin has to leave to reclaim Erebor, maybe a bit of an angsty bittersweet ending because the reader is not interested in being a queen

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x human!Reader

Genre: mostly fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @queenofmankind

Permanent taglist: @queenofmankind @randomparanoid

Warnings: none really

A/N: this is my first fanfic of the Hobbit so it might be a bit meh but I need practice so forgive me plz. Also for those who don't know, English is not my mother tongue so I have to get used to this. Now enjoy <3

Part II

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Selling flowers in the town's market might not have been the most profitable business, but it was a beautiful one.

Each morning, I would leave my lowly home and walk all the way through the town square to the stall where colorful bouquets and delicate flower crowns were already waiting for me.

Though one day, as I made my way to my working place as always, I heard unusual metallic bang. Then another, and another, and another, it was almost rhythmic.

Out of curiosity I strayed from my path in order to discover what that sound was. It was early in the morning, not many places were open.

I gradually slowed down when I saw a raven-haired dwarf forging a sword at the end of the street, in what I thought was an abandoned blacksmith's shop.

I guessed it was no longer abandoned.

The dwarf looked up and his icy eyes fixed on mines with such an intensity that made me look away, almost ashamed of having stared at him for too long.

Just as I was about to make my way up the street again and retake my usual path, a deep, loud voice spoke. "Good morning."

I turned to meet his eyes once more. This time somehow they looked less intimidating than a couple of seconds before. "Good morning to you." I replied with a timid smile. "I apologize, I did not mean to stare."

"Do not apologize, m'lady." He responded leaving his hammer resting on the wooden table. "I understand it may be rare to see... Well, a-"

"Blacksmith in town." I finished his sentence with my words before he could finish with his. "We lacked from one for so long, I doubt I have ever listened to the hammering of the forge before." we stayed in silence for an instant before I spoke again. "May I know your name?"

"Only if I know yours."

"Y/n Y/l/n." I replied with a smile.

"Thorin Oakenshield." he presented himself, with a subtle bow of his head. "At your service."

"I will leave you now to your task, Thorin. I too have a job I must attend." I turned around once more while I waved goodbye at the handsome dwarf.

"Farewell, Y/n." as I got farther from him, I started hearing the hits of the hammer against the metal sword once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

What am I doing, I asked myself as I made my way to the blacksmith's with a portion of food I had bought in the market.

"Hey." Thorin looked up at me and almost instantly a half smile appeared on his lips. "happy to see me again?"

"Very." he replied, stopping his work. "I thought I might have scared you yesterday."

"Oh, you did." I spoke the truth, sitting on a free bench besides him. "But you have a pretty smile." he seemed shocked at my words, almost confused. "I brought you some food." I handed him the portion and he left the table he was working over to stand in front of me. "it occurred to me that you may be hungry."

"That's very thoughtful of you." Thorin sat besides and started eating. "but you don't have to look for excuses to come and see me." I widened my eyes and he let out a chuckle. "I was joking."

"I'm not paying you to court a human, dwarf! Work!" I burrowed my brows at the poor treatment, and, even though I could feel Thorin’s anger, he obliged and, after getting up, he gripped the hammer and the sword with such strength that his knuckles went white.

"I did not mean to distract you." He simply shook his head, dismissing me without any kind of eye contact. I could tell he was angry. "I'll leave you to it now." I smiled at him, though he wasn't looking, and I stood up and walked out.

Since he was now behind me, I couldn't acknowledge the way his eyes lingered on me; the longing they held.

"Y/n! Long time no see, kid." the bartender who worked in the same street as Thorin called my name. "What are you doing down here?"

"I came to see Thorin."

"Thorin?"

"The blacksmith." I detailed.

His face fell and a frown installed in his face. "That dwarf? What are your business with him?" before I could give a confused question for an answer, he spoke again. "Be careful, lass. Dwarves are not ones to trust."

"Uh... Sure."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day was close to the end when a pair of young dwarves appeared in my street, seemingly confused. "Excuse me, lady- Oh those are pretty." the dark-haired one spoke, visibly losing his trail of thoughts when his eyes got caught in the flower crowns.

"Kíli, focus." the blond one urged the other, nudging him. "Lady may I ask which way must we go in order to reach the blacksmith's shop?"

"You should walk to the end of this street, then take a left turn and go up, when you reach the square-"

"Could you guide us there?" The blond dwarf begged. "We have been lost for a couple of hours now."

"If you give me a moment, I will." I responded. I was going to leave soon anyway.

"Fíli, we should buy one of this crowns for mom." the brunet suggested, completely ignoring his brother distress. "She will love it."

With a sigh, Fíli took a look at the crown his brother was pointing at. "How much for this one, lady?"

Once they paid, I handed the crown to the brunet and closed the stall. "Alright lads, follow me." I guided them both all the way to the blacksmith's. I didn't need to ask if they knew Thorin, that was an obvious answer, though it was confirmed when, after hearing the noise both dwarves were causing behind me, he looked up with what I could tell was a scolding glare.

It softened considerably when his gaze was met with mine instead of with either of theirs.

"Y/n." A smile made its way to my face at the way my name rolled out of his tongue, which triggered a confident smirk on his. "I see you found my troublesome nephews." I let out a laugh, turning to meet two pair of curious eyes already staring at me. "Did they cause you any problems?"

"Not at all," I assured, taking a few steps more to reach the place where he was working. "they just could not find their way to here and requested my services as a guide."

"That was very kind of you," Thorin pointed out, his eyes fixed on mines with some kind of warmth "though I am not sure if I should thank you for bringing them to me." he then turned to both dwarves. "You should be at home."

"We came to keep your company." The blond one assured to his uncle.

"I do not need company." he sternly replied, to which the dark-haired one responded with a quiet murmur, causing his brother to nudge him scoldingly.

"What was it?" I questioned, curious, as I took a seat on a wooden stool near the forge.

"Nothing m'lady." the blond lied with an apologetic look.

"Kíli." Thorin called with tremendous authority in his voice. "What was it."

Kíli's lips formed a knowing, mischievous smile before any word left his mouth. "I said that we sure are poor company compared to the beautiful lady besides you, uncle." his brother pinched the bridge of his nose and I felt my cheeks burning.

"You are not wrong," Thorin replied with calmness and confidence in his voice. "Y/n is much better company than a couple of problematic dwarves." my cheeks only got redder, and though he was not looking at me, by the ghost of a smile in his gaze I could tell he somehow had noticed. "Now go home, it's late."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Fíli asked.

"I have too much work left to do." I was in that moment going to leave the blacksmith's to go home, but then I heard his words. "I'll spend the night here. Tell my sister not to worry." his nephews nodded and left us alone. "You should go home too." he commented, undoing the laces of his shirt after rekindling the fire.

"What did you mean with spending the night here?" I inquired, loosening my own laces.

It was way too hot in there.

"By the time I finish, it will be too late to go all the way back." he explained already back to the making of another sword.

"You can stay in my house." I suggested without giving a second thought to my words. "It's... Not much but there's enough room."

"You are too kind." he whispered, submerging the sword into water to cool it down. "It is alright, won't be the first time I do not have a bed to rest," he left the sword aside and proceeded to take off his shirt. "and it should won't be the last."

I didn't quite process the fact that he was shirtless until he started edging the sword, which made his muscles tense. His skin glistened with the sweat that the blacksmith's caused; his long raven hair fell in cascade partially covering his shoulders—

"Seems to me you like what you see." I was staring. Again. "It's alright." he assured with that that smug grin in his face. "You really should go home."

"I'll help you." I stated, using a lace on my wrist to tie up my hair. Once again I missed the way Thorin’s eyes fixed on my while I secured the hair; the way his jaw slightly dropped when, with my hair up, he was able to see my back. "That way you will finish earlier and we will go home together."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

THORIN'S P. O. V.

It was late night when I finally closed the blacksmith's shop and we went to Y/n's home.

We walked in silence —a comfortable one.

"Do you need a change of clothes?" she questioned, making her way to what I supposed was her bedchamber. "There's probably something in the chest."

"It won't be necessary." I spoke, sitting down to take off my boots. I looked up for an instant, and found Y/n's door not closed enough to shield her half naked body from me. I rapidly averted my eyes and turned around.

"If you change... your mind..." I could feel her gaze on my back as I took off both my shirts, so I looked over my shoulder to meet her eyes. "You can grab one." with a smile, she opened her bedchamber's door and motioned me to pass. "The bed is big enough so don't you dare to argue." she warned me, lying down under the blankets. "I'm tired."

"No wonder why," I listened to her, lying besides her over the bedding. "It was a long day." she hummed in response and, when I turned to her, she had her eyes closed already.

Ethereal was the only valid word to describe her. Damn my height, damn my race, damn my—

"like what you see?" she teased with a grin, her eyes still closed.

"I do." was I too forward? I had met her barely a week ago. Maybe her words and actions where misleading me, she was one of kind nature.

Her eyes opened and she stared into mines. "Do you?" I rolled to my side and gave her a discreet nod.

Before I could move towards her in order to test the waters, her lips where on mines, though as fast as they came, they left to be hidden behind the blankets.

"I apologize." she mumbled.

To which I replied, "Do not." I moved my hand to move the blanket away from her face so I could return the kiss to her.