#oh my god the handwriting 💙💙

[potatoplace]

Forever

The Afterthought: Chapter 7 | series masterlist

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

chapter 6 | chapter 8 | ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Summary: The day after your first date is spent gossiping with Mor, being gently harassed by your coworkers over your new relationship, and with the male you want to spend your future with.

Warnings: slightly shitty Rhys mention, I honestly don't think there's anything else!

Words: ~5.5k

Author's Note: god DAMN did it take me forever to get this one out 😭 I'm glad I can finally deliver some good fackin food! (Not that I haven't loved working on all my other fics lol) Loooots of cute fluffiness in this chapter, I hope you guys like it!! 🫶 Title from the Chelsea Cutler song

18+ only pls

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You’d just taken off you makeup and cleansed your skin when a letter from Mor showed up with a soft pop on your kitchen table.

You managed to decipher it after a minute on your own, something that you were immensely proud of. Her perfect handwriting read:

How did the date go?? Where did you go for dinner? What did you talk about? Did he kiss you?? Tell me everything, write back on this paper and once you fold it, it will send itself back to me! - Love, Mor

Your nose wrinkled as you thought about writing her back, your own penmanship far more clumsy, even with how much you had been practicing. But you did anyways, not wanting to disappoint your friend.

It was perfect, we went to an Illyrian restaurant for dinner. HE KISSED ME!! Can you come over at 7 to talk? - Love you, Y/N

Your fingers carefully folded the paper along the crease once more, and watched with amazement as it vanished from your hands immediately.

Less than a minute later the paper returned, Mor having written: YES! I’ll bring breakfast and YOU can tell me everything!

You giggled to yourself, so unbelievably happy to have not only a friend who cared about your romantic life, but also having a romantic life! With Azriel no less!

At the sound of your laughter, M’aiq ran over and brushed against your leg, meowing loudly for food. You’d fed her dinner before you left for your date, but here she was, screaming at you like she was starved. “Silly girly, you have to wait until morning,” you said as you bent down to pick her up, her tiny claws catching slightly on your nightgown. She meowed at you with all her might as you cradled her in your arms, her tiny paws resting on your hand as you pet her tummy. “You’re very cute and very mighty, and I’m tempted to feed you more because of that. But you’ll be fine, I promise.” You nuzzled your nose against her cheek, listening to her purr. “Or are you asking me how the date was?” She purred louder at that suggestions, and you giggled again. “Okay, I’ll tell you about it,” You said as you sat in your armchair, letting the roaring fire keep you warm as you gushed to M’aiq about the date, petting her tiny head and tummy all the while.

Eventually, though, you forced yourself from the chair and into your bed, carefully setting a sleeping M’aiq onto the pillow next to yours that had become quickly become hers.

You fell asleep snuggled into the blankets, one hand still placed on M’aiq.

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“Wake UP!���

That was your only warning before Mor flung herself on top of you, forcing the air from your lungs in one go.

“Oh my gods, Mor!”

Mor’s maniacal giggling was the answer you got as Mor flopped to the other side of the bed and off of you, your eyes flying open in panic.

“Did you squish M’aiq?!” You asked frantically as you turned to see Mor inspecting her nails.

“No, I didn’t squish M’aiq,” she reassured you. “She bolted straight under the bed the moment I winnowed in, otherwise I wouldn’t have squished you like that.”

You shook your head, even as a smile crept onto your face. “Oh, you won’t squish M’aiq but you’ll squish me?” You asked, letting fake offence seep into your tone.

“Uh, yes, you would cry if I squished M’aiq, but you? You have information that I want! Tell me all about the date while we do our skincare, yeah?” Mor asked as she stood up from your bed, looking expectantly at you.

You nodded and flung the covers back, scrunching your nose at the cold air. Your slippers and dressing gown fixed that easily, and you followed Mor into your bathroom.

“So, how was it?” Mor asked excitedly as she patted her face dry.

“It was…” You sighed dreamily. “It was everything I could have hoped for, honestly. We went to this small Illyrian restaurant in the Palace of Thread and Jewels, the food was amazing, We talked a lot about when we were younger, he told me a few funny stories about Cassian and Rhysand,” you giggled. “And we realized that we both thought we had been extremely obvious with our affections, but neither of us noticed.”

“Well, I noticed,” Mor laughed. “I swear, when Azriel can’t see you at least once a week, he becomes the crankiest little Spymaster. And you get so blushy and shy around him, it’s so cute!”

Color dusted your cheeks at her words. “…Does he really get upset?”

Mor burst into laughter. “He does! He went off on Keir so many times, it was amazing! How was the rest of the date? Did you do anything else?” She asked as the two of you moved from the bathroom to the dining table, settling down in front of the pastries and tea that Mor had brought.

You couldn’t help but smile as you thought of how the date ended. “Well, he walked me home along the Sidra, but while we were I heard this lovely music, and in the dim lights and with the snow it was…” You let out a breath. “It was perfect. We danced to the music-”

“Azriel danced?” Mor asked incredulously, and you blinked at her, confused.

“Yes? Is that… Does he not normally dance?”

Mor shook her head. “He knows how to, he’s just… Always avoided it, whenever he could. I’m not sure exactly why, I think he might just be shy. Or… Maybe he just didn’t have the right partner!” Mor squealed, and you blushed again.

“Well either way, we danced for a bit, and then when we got to my door he kissed me,” You whispered. “It was… I’ve never been kissed before but I can’t imagine any other kiss ever measuring up.”

Mor was holding her hands to her cheeks, a huge grin splitting her face. “Oh mother, you are in love!” You smacked her lightly, your cheeks cherry red now.

“Shut up!”

“No, I can’t! My best friend is in love with my other best friend! Do you know how cute the two of you are together?”

You rolled your eyes at her and took a sip of your tea. “You haven’t even seen us together since we’ve been dating, Mor.”

“I don’t need to see you two together to know that you’re the cutest couple in Velaris! That is, until I finally get a chance to ask out the adorable Illyrian that Nesta is friends with,” Mor sighed. “Any other details about the night that you want to share with me?” She asked, waggling her brows at you suggestively.

"Mor. We kissed, and that’s all!” You insisted, placing the back of your hands on your cheeks in an attempt to cool them. “And that’s all that will happen, unless we get married.”

“See! You’re in looove, already thinking about getting married to Azriel,” Mor giggled.

You shot her a glare, but the smile that forced its way onto your face ruined the effect. “Mor,” you groaned.

Mor snickered at you, but relented. “Fine, fine. Do you know when you’re seeing him next?”

You nodded, your smile growing. “He’s picking me up after I get off work tonight.”

“Cute! I have a feeling it’s going to be tough keeping Azriel in the Hewn City through the elections.” Mor glanced to the clock, sighing when she saw the time. “I have to get going, I’ve got a meeting with Rhys in ten minutes and he’ll be pissed if I show up late again.”

“How many times have you been late?” You asked as you walked her to the door, Mor waving excitedly at M’aiq, whose head poking out from under the bed.

“I’ve lost track,” Mor laughed. “Especially recently, if he’s going to keep me in the Hewn City most of the time, I’m entitled to being late, I think.”

“I think you’re right, Mor. Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”

“Yes, I should be in town a bit after you usually get off of work. But…” Mor fished something out of her pockets: two blank pieces of paper. “I wanted you to have these! They’re both spelled to be sent after being folded like the letter I sent to you yesterday, and all messages are erased ten minutes after being opened. One of them is spelled to go to me, and the other is spelled to go to Azriel. I thought it would be nice for you to have a way to communicate with us, without needing magic.”

You grinned at the blonde standing in your doorway. “Thank you, Mor, this is amazing! And I’m sure you have no ulterior motives, like getting information on my and Azriel’s dates?”

“Oh, of course not, I just thought you might like to have someone to gush about him to,” Mor said with a wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“I’ll see you then, Mor. Have a good day!”

“You as well!” Mor called out from halfway down the staircase.

You shut your front door and giggled when M’aiq came trotting over, meowing insistently at you. “Yeah, you could have been fed earlier if you’d been a little braver, Eeky. Let’s get your breakfast started,” you said after setting the papers down on your kitchen table, trading them for your soft, fluffy child. “Do you want to watch me cook it today?”

Her loud meow was enough of an answer for you, so you set her on the counter next to the stove while you pulled a bit of beef out of the cold box. The rest of your morning passed by quickly, between cutting the meat and making sure M’aiq stayed out of the heating pan, and later keeping her from eating straight out of it. Soon enough, she was munching away after you’d set her and her food bowl on the ground.

You went about the rest of your routine, applying a light layer of pink eyeshadow and a bit of blush before getting dressed, choosing a pale purple dress, its sleeves reaching just past your elbow and the hem reaching your ankles. The matching sash around your waist was tied into a bow at your lower back, showing more of your figure than you usually did, especially at work.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t chose it knowing that Azriel would be picking you up from work later that day, your mind already stuck on how he might react to it. The whole walk to work you thought about it, nearly slipping on two separate patches of ice, you were so distracted. Somehow, you managed to safely make it to Sevenda’s on time, your outerwear hung up in the tiny breakroom just as the clock hit nine.

“Oh, someone looks nice today,” Josi remarked as you slid on your apron, her hands already chopping onions.

“Thank you, Josi,” you said with a smile, tying off your apron and moving to the sink to clean your hands.

“You have a hot date later, Y/N?” Torma asked, making heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh! You do! Who is it, tell us who it is!”

You laughed nervously as you finished drying your hands, facing your coworkers with your flushed cheeks. “It’s no one, really,” you said quietly, readying your workstation for the day. You would be handling the preparation of the meats today, a task you’d only just recently earned enough trust to do on your own.

“It’s not no one, just tell us who it is,” Josi begged from your left. “Please?”

You shook your head, pulling out a large piece of beef that you’d be carving up. “I don’t want to talk about it yet, we’ve only been on one date.”

“Ah, new love,” Torma sighed. “Whoever it is, they better treat you right, Y/N.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that slid onto your face. “He treats me perfectly,” you said softly.

Josi and Torma continued to ask questions about your mystery suitor, determined to guess who it is through your answers by the end of the day. The two of them never failed to make your day fly by, their cheery attitudes and kind words always making your day better.

As your shift drew to a close, though, your eyes kept flicking up to the clock, wishing for once that the minutes would pass by more quickly.

If Josi or Torma noticed, neither of them mentioned it. Either way, you were glad no one had pointed out how antsy you were, waiting to leave.

Five minutes before five o’clock, Sevenda popped her head into the kitchen, locking eyes with you. “Y/N, you have a guest out front when you’re done,” she said with a knowing smile and a wink before disappearing back into the front of house.

“Oh, would that guest happen to be your male?” Josi giggled, her and Torma’s eyes following you as you cleaned up your space and washed up quickly.

“I think it is, look at how fast she’s moving! Normally you never want to leave us, Y/N, is that going to change?” Torma asked with a pout.

“No, that won’t change,” you laughed as you dried your hands. “I just happen to be meeting him right after work today.” You went into the breakroom and put on your cloak and scarf, sliding your mittens on as you walked into the front of house, your eyes instantly drawn to the Illyrian lingering near the doorway.

He noticed you in the same moment, his hazel eyes softening when they landed on you. A few of his shadows slunk over to you, wrapping themselves around your legs and ankles, and judging by his expression he hadn’t asked them to do so. You walked up to him, your eyes finally registering that he was holding a lovely bouquet of red camellias and azaleas.

He had picked such romantic flowers for you, both today and last night, it was making your head spin.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” he greeted, pressing a soft kiss to each of your cheeks, your face flaming when he pulled away. Azriel pressed the bouquet into your hands gently. “I brought you these, I thought you might like them.”

“I love them, thank you Az,” you said, a grin on your face as you smelled them. “Should we go?”

“Yes, I was think-”

“No way!” Josi squealed from behind you. “Torma, you owe me twenty marks!”

“Nice, Y/N, you got the Shadowsinger!” Torma cheered from the back of the restaurant. “You two are so cute together!”

You smiled apologetically up at Azriel, your cheeks now red from embarrassment. “Goodbye,” you said loudly to the two of them, noticing that even Wren was peeking out from the kitchen, shaking your head at their antics.

The two of you left the restaurant, the chill of winter sinking into your skin a bit. “You were saying something before my coworkers interrupted you?”

“Ah.” Azriel rubbed the back of his head, and in the remaining sunlight you could see his cheeks were lightly dusted with pink. “I thought that we could go to the markets to get ingredients for dinner, and I could cook for you at your apartment.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed at his suggestion, and you quickly nodded in agreement. “That sounds lovely, Az. Though I’d like to insist on helping you cook.”

“And I would like to insist that you allow me to cook for you myself, just this once,” he requested softly. Azriel smiled down at you as he grabbed your hand, a few of his shadows floating over to your other and disappearing with your bouquet, presumably taking it to your apartment. He slowly led you to the Palace of Bone and Salt, his grip being the only thing keeping you upright on more than one occasion.

Shopping went by quickly with Azriel at your side, your heart racing and cheeks flushed at all times from his presence. When the streets grew crowded, Azriel guided you through the groups of people with a considerate hand on your lower back, his other arm managing to carry everything he’d purchased for dinner.

He still had yet to tell you what he was making, or agree that you could help.

By the time you returned to your apartment, the sun had thrown lovely oranges and pinks into the sky, matching the lovestruck mood you were in from Azriel’s mere presence. You led Azriel up to your apartment, opening your front door slowly to be certain that M’aiq was unable to make an escape - not that you expected her to, with how frightened she seemed to be of anything and anyone new.

“M’aiq, we’re home!” You called out into the room, spying her green eyes glinting in the light from under your bed, a smile gracing your lips. “You know him, cutie pie,” you giggled as you watched her eyes lock onto Azriel’s form, her body slinking just a bit further into the shadows. You rolled your eyes and turned your gaze to Azriel, who had taken off his boots and was already entering the kitchen with the groceries.

Your own winter gear came off quickly, shoes replaced with fuzzy slippers. It took you mere seconds to be by his side, curiously taking note of everything he’d bought - you could hardly remember what you’d stopped for, with your head and heart buzzing from getting to spend so much time with Azriel, even if it was only grocery shopping.

“So, what are we making?” You asked, letting your right hand brush against his left ever so slightly.

“I am making a chicken stir-fry for us,” Azriel responded, a gentle kiss placed to the crown of your head right after. “And you, my dear, will be sitting either at the table or on the couch.”

Your lips slid into a pout - that just wouldn’t do.

“But I want to help,” you whined, laying your head against his shoulder. “Please?”

Azriel sighed. “You can help next time, Y/N. But I would love if you would give me the chance to make you a meal, all on my own.”

Your heart soared at his offer - he would love to cook for you - and you couldn’t help but smile, especially when you saw his lips tilted a the corners, his eyes hopeful as he looked down at you.

“Fine,” you gave in.  “Do you need help finding anything?”

“No, love, I’ve got it covered. You just go take a seat, and I’ll bring you a pot of tea in a moment.”

You took a seat, a playful pout on your lips. You appreciated the gesture, but you really would enjoy cooking with him again.

You’ll have as many times as you want to cook with him after this, you reminded yourself, a smile coming to your lips at the thought.

You could cook with him whenever youwantednow that you were dating, so long as he was in the city.

That train of thought had you so entangled that you only realized Azriel had brought you a pot of tea when he pressed a kiss to your forehead, a soft look in his eyes when he pulled away. “What are you thinking about, love?”

Your cheeks flamed from the nickname - how could something so simple be so perfect? “Just… How we can do this all the time, now,” you admitted shyly.

Azriel nodded. “Yes we can, Y/N. And we will, whenever we have the time,” he promised before bending down to kiss you gently, leaving you breathless.

“Good,” you managed to say, grinning up at him before watching him turn back to the stove. “How was your day?”

“Oh, not too bad,” Azriel replied as he began cutting the chicken, having already prepared all of the vegetables while you had been fantasizing about your future with him. “Most of my day will happen when I go back to the Hewn City, so I’m incredibly grateful to spend the beginning of it with you. You are much preferred company to any of the citizens I have to interact with there, love.”

Would your cheeks always be pink around him?

“I’m glad you get to spend it with me too,” you said as you took a sip of your tea, which his shadows had kindly poured out for you - one of your favorites, a pink rose green tea. “Do you know when you’ll stop having to be there as much?”

Azriel hummed thoughtfully as he transferred the chicken to the pan. “I believe in three weeks things will be a bit more settled, and I won’t have to spend every night there.”

Three weeks. You could handle that.

You stood from your chair and made your way over to him, watching as he moved the chicken around the pan. “Three weeks? That isn’t too bad.”

Azriel turned to look at you, a wing curling slightly around your back to touch your arm. “Three weeks will be torture, knowing that I could have been spending every day with you,” he admitted quietly, your heart fluttering at the sincerity of his tone, the truth in his hazel eyes. “You have no idea how many times I’ve almost caused a problem with Keir when he was holding me up from leaving,” Azriel sighed.

“I think only Keir would mind if he got hit in the face,” you giggled, knowing how awful he was, even to his own daughter. One of your hands was slowly creeping over to the spoon he was using to stir.

Azriel let out a soft snort. “That may be true, but I’d prefer to spend time with you over teaching him a lesson.” Hazel eyes darted down, catching you in the act and using a scarred hand to pick yours up and bring the back of it to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss there. “Now, go sit down and enjoy your tea love.”

You stuck your lips out into a pout. “But I want to help,” you whined.

“And you agreed that you wouldn’t help this time. So, will you sit down? Or do my shadows need to help you?” Azriel asked, and your cheeks flushed bright red.

“I can sit down,” you sighed before turning back to the table and reluctantly taking a seat. You took a deep sip of tea, aware of the shadows that had stretched away from Azriel slightly. You almost felt like they were staring at you, making sure you didn’t leave your seat.

It was likely, you supposed, since Azriel was able to spy on people with them. Then again, you weren’t really sure.

“How do the shadows work?” you blurted out, hoping it wasn’t a rude question.

Azriel turned around, a surprised look on his face. “You… You want to know about them?” he asked neutrally.

"I... Yes. They’re a part of you, right?”

His lips tilted up, just a tiny bit, at the corners. “Yes, and no. They’ve been with me so long that we feel like one, but they have minds of their own. That’s why one has been following you around secretly without my permission for over a year.” His eyes locked onto a place by your feet, where a small shadow slunk out from underneath the hem of your dress.

“I- What?” you asked, worried about what that meant.

Azriel shook his head quickly, and his words dispelled any notions your brain had been creating. “I have received absolutely no information from them, when they follow you, I swear. They just… Wanted to keep an eye on you,” he said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, turning quickly to the pan to keep the chicken from burning. “I hope that you aren’t offended by it, I truly did attempt to make them stop.”

You pursed your lips together, trying to keep a giggle in. “They can… They can disobey you?”

“I don’t normally let people know that, but yes,” Azriel sighed. “They’re very stubborn, when they think I’m wrong.” He began stirring in the vegetables he’d cut, pouring a delicious smelling sauce over them as he did.

“They thought you were wrong? About what?” You asked with a furrowed brow.

You just barely noticed the way Azriel’s wings stiffened at the question, barely heard the quiet answer he gave to your question.

“About me… Giving you space.”

Giving me space? Space from what?

“Rhys…” Azriel groaned, stepping away from the stove. “Mother, it’s so stupid! Rhys told me not to approach you romantically, after he told me off for having feelings for Elain-” he seemed to have noticed his mistake the moment he said it, turning to look at you with horror in his eyes. “Oh gods, Y/N, I never had feelings for your sister, Rhys just had it in his head that I did because I was helping her recover as he and Feyre had asked of me,” he rushed out quickly, your brain struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of information. “Truly, since I’ve met you, I’ve had no interest in anyone else romantically, Y/N, you have to believe me,” Azriel begged when you were silent for a moment, getting on his knees in front of you, his wings folded behind him.

You had never felt that Azriel cared for Elain, beyond that of a friend. But, knowing that someone else had thought he had…

“I believe you, Az. I do,” you said quietly. “But… What changed your mind? About giving me space, I mean.”

Azriel let out a relieved sigh, giving you a gentle, reassuring hug before returning to the stove reluctantly. “Well… You. I had thought you were adjusting well to life in Velaris, but on Bounty Day… I realized that your support system wasn’t giving you the proper support, and I could have been contributing all along.” The shadow that was still at the hem of your dress rushed up to his face, poking him on the ear, almost scoldingly before he let out an amused huff. “Yes, also you, little one,” he said with an affectionate eyeroll, smiling when the shadow brushed against his cheek before returning to you, this time settling around your wrist.

“Well… I’m glad that you had someone to talk some sense into you,” you giggled before standing from your chair and going behind him, placing your face between his wings and wrapping your arms as far around him as you could, almost getting your fingers to touch. He stiffened in your hold for a brief moment before relaxing, a hand coming to rest over yours.

“Me too,” he whispered.

He let you stand behind him, arms wrapped around him tightly the rest of the time he was cooking, his shadows happily encircling the two of you.

The meal he made you was perfect, made with just the right amount of spice for you and oh so filling. Az even insisted on washing up while you sat on the couch in front of a blazing fire, attempting to lure M’aiq out from under your bed.

“Will you come out for food?” you begged, grinning when her ears perked up, eyes locking onto yours instead of where Azriel was standing in the kitchen. “Please, little noodle?” She let out a tiny meow and took a few brave steps towards you, and you took the opportunity to stand and scoop her up. “Thank you, now let’s get you some food!”

A few of Azriel’s shadows darted over to you and M’aiq, hovering curiously around her before backing away after she hissed, making her displeasure very known. You set her on the counter before pulling some steak from the fridge for her - her newest favorite.

You set to preparing her dinner, hyper-aware of Azriel standing near you at the sink, the very edges of his wing brushing you every now and then, his shadows lazily floating between the two of you. You’d just gotten the meat in a pan when Azriel finished at the sink, stepping aside a bit to let you wash your hands. He still had your hand towel when you finished, wrapping your hands in it softly and drying them for you.

In a moment of bravery you stood on your tip-toes, pressing your lips to his briefly before pulling away, only for Az to pull you back, his mouth covering yours sweetly until you heard metal rattling.

You turned to see M’aiq, one paw on the steak in the pan as she tried, and failed, to grab a slice from the pan. “M’aiq!” you yelped, moving out of Azriel’s hold to pull her away from possible danger. “You impatient little girl! You can wait five more minutes,” you said as you held her up to your face, shaking your head at her behavior. She was set on the counter to your left, away from the hot pan and thankfully staying put, now that your eyes were on her again.

You had just started to stir the meat when Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before resting his chin on it. For the next four minutes, you were sure that you looked an idiot, smiling so widely at a mere hug.

But you didn’t care.

Because it was Azriel.

And if you could spend every moment with him? You were sure that you would.

For now, though, you could settle for any amount of time with the perfect, caring male behind you.

Once M’aiq was fed, you couldn’t help but feel your time with him drawing to a close for the night, your heart aching already at the prospect. But you let him lead you back over to the couch, sitting down first and pulling you down and into his side, a warm throw blanket pulled over you in the next moment. His wings draped over the side of the couch, an arm wrapped over your shoulders and his free hand holding one of yours. He swiped his thumb over the back of it rhythmically as you basked in each other’s presence.

“So,” Azriel started a while later, after M’aiq had joined you. “I won’t be able to come to town until Friday night next week, and I was wondering if you would be free for another date?”

You tilted your head to look up at him, meeting his softened hazel eyes. “I most definitely am,” you confirmed with a smile, it broadening when he placed a tender kiss to your lips. “Do I get a hint on what it is?”

Azriel grinned at you, his face looking so boyish and free that your heart skipped a beat. “Wear something you can move comfortably in.”

You furrowed your brow. “That’s not much of a hint…” you half-heartedly grumbled.

“The hint was meant to be vague, love,” Az chuckled. He leaned down to kiss you once more, still soft and tender, but you could sense the hunger lying deep underneath the calm façade he was wearing. “I should be going, as much as I would rather stay with you,” he groaned, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Then stay…” you whispered against his lips, drawing another long kiss from him.

He sighed when he pulled away this time, a finality in his expression. “I wish I could,” he murmured before carefully moving the blanket on his lap in an effort to not disturb M’aiq. Once he was standing, he bent down for another kiss, your eyes fluttering closed until he pulled away, your cheeks pink. “I’ll see you on Friday?”

“On Friday,” you nodded. “Oh, wait! Mor gave me these papers that will let us write to each other,” you said. “So… Expect a letter from me, probably tomorrow,” you giggled.

Azriel beamed at you, a dimple showing on his left cheek when he did so, your heart absolutely melting at the sight. “I’ll look forward to it, Y/N. Have a good rest of your night,” he said before pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips.

“You too, Az,” you said, watching as he left through your front, door, the shadow that apparently stays with you locking the door behind him before lazily floating back over to you.

What a night, you thought to yourself.

There had been a brief moment of panic, with the reveal of Rhysand not wanting Azriel to approach you, but… You knew that Azriel was telling you the truth, that he had never harbored feelings for your second eldest sister.

And that was all the reassurance that you needed.

🤍💙💘💙🤍

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Vows to Cherish: The Thorne-Ingellvar Wedding

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Wisteria by me

9:54 Dragon

A spare bedroom in the Ingellvar Estate

“Stand up straight,” Sergeant Jin ordered.

Jerran swallowed thickly as she straightened his ceremonial jacket, her hands gentle despite the usual intense look in her eyes. Behind her, Lin, Isiah, Kalais, and Portia bantered while playing an impromptu game of Wicked Grace on an ornate bed.

“There. Not too shabby.” Jin patted him on the shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”

“Nervous that I’m going to fuck up.” Jerran pulled out a scrap of paper where he’d scribbled his vows. “Last time I tried to read from a note, I ended up kissing her. I don’t think that’s going to work here.”

Portia laughed. “You never know. She obviously likes it.” She threw her cards down with a giggle and gathered the winnings as the others groaned.

“Yeah, but VORGOTH said something about ‘needing to do things correctly’ but more…. VORGOTH-y. I feel like they’ll hunt me down if I screw this up.” Jerran squinted at his handwriting, muttering the words to himself under his breath.

Kalais started another round when a tap on the door interrupted their conversation. “Come in,” Jin called.

The door opened and Myrna stuck her head in. “Warden Thorne. VORGOTH says the fortuitous time draws nigh and binding vows must be uttered.” At Jerran’s blank stare, she sighed. “It’s time.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Jerran slipped the piece of paper into a pocket.

“And that’s my cue. I’ll see you in the front pew, Thorne.” Jin patted him on the shoulder one more time and followed Myrna out. 

As the others put away their cards and straightened their clothing  – Portia cackling gleefully – Jerran breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the sudden rapid pounding of his heart. A mix of cologne, perfume, and slightly musty furniture mingled in the air. 

Glancing one more time in a mirror hanging on the wall, he pushed back a strand of hair, revealing a long, jagged scar just barely missing his right eye – a souvenir from fighting the Juggernaut at the final stand against the gods. 

“You ready to attach the ol’ ball and chain?” Kalais laughed.

Jerran smirked, glancing at his fellow Grey Warden. “Someone’s got to set an example, especially for Isiah. This’ll be him in a few years.”

Isiah blushed. “Well, I don’t know…”  

“Come on, we’re supposed to meet Eleanor’s wedding party.” Lin hustled Isiah and Kailas out.

Portia high-fived Jerran and winked. “Don’t let me down, Thorne. I bet on you.” 

“A bet?” 

“That you wouldn’t run.” Portia laughed before skipping out the door. 

Jerran chuckled. “You’ll get your money.” After checking one more time that the fancy sleeves on his Grey Warden uniform were buttoned properly, he followed the boisterous voices until Myrna directed him toward the garden.

This was it.  Can’t be harder than fighting Ghilan-nay and Elgarnads, right? 

💙💙💙💙

A second bedroom, opposite wing

In truth, Eleanor had dreamt of this day since she was a child. Though those dreams, she had initially believed, would only come to pass in her slumber or on the pages of her favorite fairy tales.

To be honest, she still felt as though she’d wake up any moment. As she sat in front of an antique vanity table, her eyes drifted to her own reflection in its large mirror, admiring the graceful lines of the ballroom wedding gown that she’d chosen. Months of planning and alterations had finally come down to today. 

The gentle touch of Zephyr’s claws running through her hair brought her back to the present as they deftly wove blue ribbons along with white roses and baby’s breath into a crown braid wrapping around her head. They matched the bridal bouquet sitting in a nearby vase.

In the vanity’s large mirror, Ambrose’s reflection smiled widely as they lounged in a chair across the room. “Jerran isn’t going to know what hit him when he sees you. Hey, Zephyr. Two coins say that he starts crying.”

Zephyr chuckled softly, a slight smile twitching on their lips as they used pins to secure the braid in place. “I won’t take that bet. I know that he will.”

Rowena leaned forward from her place across from Ambrose, her eyes keenly examining Eleanor’s appearance. “I agree. He is not the most articulate elf.’”

“Not even in the best times. After seeing her? He'll barely be able to function,” Heloise chimed in from her spot on a bed as she sipped on some punch and made a face. “Jerran wasn’t wrong about the punch.” She set the drink aside. 

A gentle knock on the bedroom door interrupted the friends’ banter. “Eleanor? May I come in?” Yesult’s voice called. “Your veil is ready.”

Zephyr finished putting one last flower in place and nodded. Eleanor turned. “Yes, Mother.”

Yesult Ingellvar, a tall human woman with elegantly styled dark hair sprinkled with silver,  stepped in with a translucent cloud of cloth draped over her arms. “Oh, my. Everyone looks so wonderful.” Her hazel eyes softened as she turned to Eleanor. “Eleanor, dear. You look like an absolute vision. Zephyr, you did an incredible job with her hair.”

Zephyr murmured their thanks.

A knock at the door made everyone jump as Myrna peeked in. “It’s almost time. Jerran’s party is already walking to their spots.”

“We’ll be right there,” Ambrose called. To Eleanor, they added, “Don’t forget your bouquet.” They pointed to the vase on the counter.

“Thank you, Ambrose. I’ll remind her.” Yesult waited until Eleanor’s companions had left before turning to her daughter. “Let’s get that veil attached.”

Eleanor held still as Yesult carefully arranged the gauzy cloth around her face, pinning it to the crown of braids. After a few minutes, her mother choked out, “I’ve finished. Take a look.”

Opening her eyes, Eleanor gasped at the beautiful bride staring back. This is real. She blinked back her own tears. “Mother?” 

“Yes, dear.”

“I know it’s different than what we practiced, but I…I want both you and Father to give me away, I think.” Turning, she clasped her mother’s hands in her own. 

“Of course.” Yesult squeezed Eleanor’s hands, blinking rapidly. “I would be delighted. Let me relay that to Myrna so she knows.” She stepped away and handed Eleanor her bouquet. “Now, let’s not keep your handsome Grey Warden waiting. He’s practically climbing the walls.” 

💙💙💙💙

As Jerran made his way through the hall, he nearly bumped into a familiar skeleton dressed in a bowtie and dapper jacket and carrying a pillow. “Manfred!” He fist-bumped the skeleton, who offered a quick game of rock-paper-scissors. Jerran lost, of course. “You got the rings?”

“Uh-huh,” Manfred nodded, offering the pillow to Jerran. Two gold rings – gifts from Ambrose –  rested on the silk cloth, loosely attached by delicate ribbons. One was an engraved band decorated with a blue stone; the other a larger stone surrounded by delicately entwined leaves.

“Good man. Uh… skeleton. Try not to lose those.” Jerran patted Manfred on the back.

Manfred gave him a thumbs-up before Professor Volkarin’s distant voice called for him. 

Jerran waved the skeleton onward before stepping out into the Ingellvar’s gardens from a side door. A wisp danced around him; he grinned. “All right, lead the way.” 

Following the wisp to his assigned spot at the front of the garden, Jerran nodded to VORGOTH waiting patiently under a floral arch. A large bell hung over the Mournwatch faction leader, two silken cords swaying in a slight breeze, while a small table with an unlit candle stood in the center of the display. 

Once in place, Jerran glanced around to get his bearings. 

People mingled on a private balcony overlooking the Ingellvar Estate’s garden. He could distantly recognize the darker hues of a Morlitasi mage, the tall horns of a qunari warrior, and the distinct diamond-shaped hat of a famous detective, but the railing blocked much of the view. 

Long benches on either side of a long aisle filled the gardens, festooned in large flower arrangements of forget-me-nots, baby’s breath, and big, spiky flowers – Eleanor told him once, but he couldn’t remember – and draped in delicate gauze. 

Wisps darted throughout the crowd, chittering with excitement. Some helpfully lit the Veilfire braziers lining the area, while others led guests to open benches.

On one side, Eleanor’s extended relatives sat primly, mouths pursed with disapproval as they glared over at the Veilguard guests celebrating loudly on the other side of the garden. A few of the younger Ingellvars craned their necks. Jerran bet a whole dragon’s hoard that a few of them would stealthily make their way to the Veilguard’s reception area throughout the night. 

Some of the Veilguard – Reto and Tira leading the way –  had evidently commandeered the aisle for an impromptu fashion show. Mercer flexed his muscles for an admiring crowd.  

Someone screamed as Osla brought out her new favorite bug while Dáire and a group of Shadow Dragons pantomimed how they took down a building full of Venatori to Dan and several other Grey Wardens. 

Mournwatchers and Veil Jumpers gathered around Ezra, who was no doubt explaining something complicated about Spirits and gesturing to a Morlitasi instrument on display.

In the Crows’ section, Aria kept a strict eye on Nheil, Alecto, Shirevas, and the others who were obviously planning on stirring up shit later. Her face relaxed when Nels nudged her shoulder with his own.

It was almost like being back at the Lighthouse again. 

“YOUNG WARDEN.” VORGOTH’s rumbling voice from behind cut through his thoughts. “TODAY IS A FORTUITOUS DAY.”

“Yes, sir,” Jerran replied. Better to be polite to the unknown entity that could probably wipe him out with just one ringed finger. Even if you didn’t know half of the words, or how to address them. So far, VORGOTH seemed content with Jerran’s “sir.”

“A JOINING OF TWO HOUSES BODES GREAT PROMISE OF THE FUTURE.” The robed entity seemed to peer at him even without eyes. “YOUNG ELEANOR MUST BE TREATED WITH GREAT CARE.”

Was VORGOTH really doing this? Now, of all times? “I intend to, sir.” Sweat started trickling down Jerran’s back as VORGOTH let the words hang in the air.

In the awkward silence, the faint sounds of a violin began playing, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. Jerran had never been so relieved to hear music in his life.

VORGOTH slowly turned their gaze toward the garden entrance. “THE MOURNWATCH WILL KEEP DUE DILIGENCE.” 

The guests began finding their seats; Esha waved to Jerran excitedly from the Shadow Dragon section as she plopped down next to a scowling Darius, who looked like he’d rather eat nails than be there. Jerran managed a small wave back before he spotted Jin eyeing him from her spot in the front row next to her partner, Elysia.

Heloise and Portia first appeared at the entrance, linked arm and arm as they walked slowly toward Jerran. Heloise's lips slightly moved, and Jerran could practically hear her counting off the pacing that Myrna had forced everyone to practice for hours the day before. 

The Crows separated at the union candle, with Portia finding a spot on Jerran's side and Heloise's on Eleanor's.

As Zephyr and Kalais began their descent, Jerran squeezed his hands together to keep them from shaking. 

💙💙💙💙

Eleanor squeezed her father's arm as she watched Myrna cue Rowena and Lin, then Isiah and Ambrose to follow the others. 

In front of her, a young griffon wearing a wreath of flowers around its neck pranced, letting out a quiet squawk as its trainer occasionally fed it gingerwort truffles. Manfred clutched the ring bearer pillow to his chest, occasionally hissing at anyone who got too close to the precious items. 

Her father, Khoen, cleared his throat. “My daughter. Your mother and I… we are so very proud of you.” He glanced at her and she was surprised to see tears brimming his eyes. 

“When we found you… we had no idea how much you would change our lives. How much joy you would spark in us.” He paused as the trainer led the griffon out to the sound of the audience's faint gasps of delight. 

Yesult joined them, bending down to kiss Eleanor’s forehead. “You gave us an experience that we didn’t think we’d ever get the chance to have, and we are so happy that you’ve found love. You picked a good one, Eleanor.” 

She looked out down the long aisle where Jerran stood tall in his Grey Wardens Ceremonial uniform. Waiting for her.

Eleanor smiled. “I think so, too.” 

💙💙💙💙

The music changed. Jin stood, her blue dress swirling around her, and pivoted deliberately toward the garden entrance. In unison, the audience rose – some Veilguard members nudged by others – and followed her lead.

Looking up, Jerran focused his gaze at the end of the aisle and completely forgot about everything else. Fuck. 

Eleanor was absolutely stunning. 

Flanked by her parents, she seemed to float in a long wedding gown decorated with embroidered flowers on the bodice. Pale golden hair flowed freely over her delicate bare shoulders. A crown of braided flowers and ribbons encircled her head while her veil drifted behind her. 

And her smile and eyes. Maker’s Breath. He’d never seen her so radiant. 

A nudge from Isiah made him aware that his mouth was hanging open. Snapping it shut, Jerran took a deep breath and fought the urge to take her hand immediately.

The trio stopped just in front of the candle and VORGOTH raised their head. “WHO PRESENTS ELEANOR IN HER UNION WITH JERRAN IN THE PRESENCE OF MORTALS AND SPIRITS ALIKE?”

“Her mother and I do,” Khoen replied, looking steadily at Jerran. Take care of her.

Jerran nodded.

Eleanor hugged both of her parents before turning toward Jerran, her forget-me-not eyes dancing with delight. Grinning, he offered his hand to begin their new life together.

After VORGOTH welcomed the audience, intoning something very Mournwatch-y about life and death, they asked if anyone had objections to the union.

Jerran was vaguely surprised that the Duchess Isla Ingellvar – not his biggest fan – didn’t protest. Maybe the Crow Veilguard members obviously putting their hands on hidden daggers and other weapons had something to do with it. 

At VORGOTH’s prompting, Jerran and Eleanor rang the bell in the middle of the arch to invite Spirits of Love and Sacrifice to attend. The Spirits manifested in spots specially reserved for them off to the side.

VORGOTH turned to Jerran. “AND NOW THE GROOM AND BRIDE WILL EXCHANGE BINDING VOWS OF ENDURANCE.”

Oh. Right. Jerran dug the paper scrap from his pocket and squinted at the words. “Ellie, I…..” He blinked; the words seemed to blur. “Aw, fu– I mean, forget it.” He crumpled up the paper and tossed it. 

Taking one of her delicate hands in his own, he inhaled the scent of roses and Eleanor’s expensive perfume, and plunged ahead. “Ellie, when we met, I was the most screwed up, angry little shi – uh, elf. I didn’t think that I deserved happiness after everything I've done.You changed all that.” 

Eleanor bit her lip, trying not to cry. Distantly he heard someone – Portia, maybe? – start to sniffle. He squeezed her hand and continued, “Your kindness, your gentle spirit, taught me forgiveness, that everyone deserves a second chance. You saw me at my lowest and didn't walk away when most people would. You helped me heal in ways that I didn't think possible.”

An errant tear dropped down her cheek. He used his thumb to wipe it away as he finished, “Eleanor Rudith Amaryllis Ingellvar, I would choose you again and again even as a wisp thingy in the Fade. Ar lath ma, vhenan. I love you.” 

💙💙💙💙

Eleanor looked up at Jerran; her own notes were tucked into her bouquet. But at the moment, they didn't seem right. She handed the flowers to Ambrose and took Jerran's other hand. “Jerran… to say you have completely changed my life would seem like an exaggeration to some, while I would argue it is an understatement.” She paused as she searched for the words.

“Before meeting you, I believed I was never meant to find the love I read and dreamed about. I thought I was meant to live my life alone. I first told you that my scars made me feel unloveable. I thought you would walk away that day.” 

She reached up to caress his cheek. “Instead you kissed me…you kissed me and told me that you loved me and that my scars were beautiful. You have proven to me that those words are true over and over again. I will love you for the rest of my life and even when we are both gone and forgotten. I love you.”

Jerran blinked rapidly; she could tell he was moments away from breaking down.

VORGOTH coughed, or as much as the entity could cough. “EXCHANGING OF THE RINGS WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

At the cue, Manfred eagerly trotted forward with the pillow; the flower griffon joined the little skeleton at the front, giving Jerran a chance to recover. 

Eleanor giggled as the griffon trainer tried to bribe the animal with gingerwort truffles, to no avail. Despite cajoling, the griffon ended up lying at Jerran’s feet.  

Eleanor and Jerran exchanged rings, following VORGOTH’S prompting: “With this ring, I give you my heart. From this moment on, we shall walk side by side. I will shelter you from the storms and my arms shall be your home."

As they finished their vows, a wisp lit the unification candle between them.

Then VORGOTH uttered the words she had been waiting for a lifetime: 

“WITH THE POWER INVESTED IN ME – I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU HUSBAND AND WIFE. YOU MAY NOW KISS THE BRIDE.”

Eleanor looked up at Jerran as he slowly pulled her close, one hand around her waist. She placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling the strong muscles beneath the thick cloth. His hand gently cupped her cheek, the thumb stroking her jawline as his lips met hers. 

She opened her eyes when the kiss ended, the reluctance in Jerran’s eyes mirroring her own. The cheers and whistles of their friends masked his whisper as he leaned forward and promised, “There’ll be more of that tonight.”

They turned to face their beaming audience, Jerran nearly tripping over the griffon in the process. Someone – Ambrose – shoved the bouquet into Eleanor's hands as VORGOTH's sonorous voice echoed in her ears:

“I NOW PRESENT WARDEN JERRAN AND MRS. ELEANOR THORNE-INGELLVAR.”

—------

ROOK CREDITS

Eleanor, Isiah, Heloise, Khoen, Yesult- @a-mumbling-nerd 

Aria and Elysia - @bubblecat-co

Esha - @i-creatied-au

Nels - @madrabbit014

Darius @ennayeliah

Daire -@legendstrauma

Mercer and Dan - @evans-endeavors

Osla -@moonbunecho

Portia and Rowena - @booksncatsworld

Ambrose - @knowlsey

Nheil - @so--whoonos

Ezra -@lunammoon

Lin-@wardentabriis

Kalais -@sleepingtodream

Alecto - @alystrin03

Shirevas - @alliminoobers

Jin - @wickedadaar

Zephyr - @larknnightingale

Tira and Reto - @tiravi

_____________

A HUGE thanks to @a-mumbling-nerd for providing insight and Eleanor's dialogue. Again, I am honored to be able to work with such a wonderful character.

Apologies if I missed anyone. There were a lot of Rooks to juggle. Please know that your Rook was included in the wedding even if not mentioned!

Edit: Changed the ring vows slightly because I forgot I used a vow from a wedding website as a filler and forgot to change it.

[bleedingoptimism]

𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 

𝗪𝗲𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆

“Oh. My. God. Stop trying to take the credit! If Jeff’s cleric hadn’t been there we’d all be dead right now and you know it!” 

“Cmon! I was the one that-”

Mike and Lucas are bickering while everyone else is tidying up their things and listening amusedly at them at the end of a Hellfire session in the Wheeler’s basement, and normally Dustin would be all up in their businesses, but he’s been pretty distracted today.

He can't stop thinking about his conversation with Steve the day before.

He had been made to swear secrecy but still, it was such a huge deal!

There has to be something he can do.

And he knows, he’s super sure, Eddie likes Steve back! He’s known for a while actually, when Eddie first came out to them, Dustin immediately noticed the way he looked at Steve, and now that he knows Steve likes him back?!

Oh, it could be so good! They could actually date! His two favorite people, how cool would that be?

But Steve was pretty adamant about not saying anything, he doesn't think Eddie likes him back and he doesn’t believe either him or Robin.

Dustin doesn't get it, why is it so hard for Steve to believe them? He's like the perfect guy, who wouldn't want to date him? Didn’t he used to be super popular in high school? Why does he think so little of himself? It's actually kind of infuriating. He needs to find a way to make Steve believe him, to prove that Eddie likes him back.

He needs evidence.

“You okay dude?” Eddie scares the shit out of him by clasping a hand on his shoulder. He looks around and notices everyone else has already gone upstairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I’ll be right there,” he answers reassuringly and starts quickly putting his things away as Eddie nods and starts walking upstairs.

He’s about to follow, but something catches his eye as he’s about to leave. It’s a sheet of paper, that he grabs and looks at curiously. It’s a character sheet, and he recognizes Eddie’s handwriting on it so he opens his mouth to call for him but then he sees something that makes him stop.

Holy shit! This is exactly what he needs!

He grabs the paper and puts it with his things, he needs to show this to Steve as soon as possible!

𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱

part 1: ❤️

part 2: 🧡

part 3: 💛 

part 4: 💚  

part 5: 💙

part 6: 💜  

part 7: 💗  

☕🥐💕

[keep-calm-and-drink-caf]

Cuddles and Khakhra

A Pavitr oneshot

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar (Spider-Man India) x Indian!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: No use of (Y/N), reader gets their period, use of pads, reader’s mood is kind of all over the place, and the rest is fluffy stuff like kisses, cuddling etc!

A/N: This is one of my first times properly writing from scratch in a little while since I’ve had so much homework and assignments and stuff, but enjoy ☺️

As always any constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated! 🫶

The Hindi in this is probably quite flawed since it’s been a while since I properly spoke it and I was never that good at Hindi but I tried my best lol. I would have liked to do Marathi because Mumbattan (Mumbai) but I don’t know Marathi and I don’t really want to use a translator

I’m not very sure about the poojas (basically rituals, usually prayer-related) that some people do when they have their period, and whether it’s sometimes a monthly thing or not, but when I was a child I never had any done after the first time

Reader uses pads because tampons are scary

Huge thank you to @hobiebrownismygod for the tips for writing Pav’s character!! 💙

———

You knew something was off the moment you woke up with a metallic taste in your mouth and an ache all over your body that made it feel like a valley was being carved straight through your nerves. Upon seeing the damage done to your bedsheets, the blood seeping into the white fabric everywhere, you grumbled to yourself softly and reached over to your bedside drawer for a pad, dragging your sore limbs out of bed and to the bathroom.

Once you got out of the bathroom, sitting on the floor against your bed and battling a cramp that was just about beginning to throb painfully, you contemplated calling your mother. A glance at the clock ruled out that possibility, though. It was 7:00 am. Both your parents would definitely be asleep downstairs, and very, very grumpy should you wake them up for something that you could definitely handle yourself, despite how tired you were starting to feel. You stripped the stained sheets off the bed, replacing them with clean ones from the cupboard and putting the soiled ones in the bathroom to clean up just a little later once the initial fatigue wore off. You went back and lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

No sooner than you had gathered the strength to go get a painkiller than your phone rang, obnoxiously loud for the relatively early hour. You grabbed it, glancing at the name of the caller on the top of the screen, relaxing slightly with a soft sigh when you saw who it was.

“Good morning, mera pyaar!” God, how was he always so cheerful? It seemed even at 7am on a Sunday morning he was out of bed and fully awake.

“Yeah, hi, Pav.” You pressed the phone against your ear as you rummaged around in your drawer for an advil, silently cursing your reluctance to sort through the mess of pens, papers, and random knick-knacks that had begun to accumulate over time.

“You sound tired. What happened? Are you okay?” His tone immediately took on a note of worry, and through your haze of steady, throbbing pain you felt your heart warm at his concern.

“Check your calendar.”

You could hear rustling at the other end of the line as he moved towards his wall. You could picture the adorable little scrunch between his eyebrows he did whenever he was trying to figure something out, his eyes trailing the events marked on the pages in his scrawled but somehow neat handwriting. Finally he found what you were waiting for and you could hear him inhale sharply.

“Oh, meri jaan. It it… that time?” At the end of his sentence his voice became hushed, the caution in his tone making you chuckle softly. You finally found an advil, swallowing it and hoping that it would kick in sooner than later.

“Arrey, don’t sound so surprised. You were there last month as well, remember? And the month before that.”

“It happens every month for the whole year?“

Your tired sigh at your end quickly shut him up. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll swing by and I’ll even get you a snack, okay? Just sit tight.”

“Wait, Pav, I’m not so sure that’s—” You were interrupted by him hanging up on you, no doubt already on his way. You tiptoed to the door, resting your ear against the wood to see if your parents were up. A light, barely audible snore told you that that wasn’t the case. You were just about to head back to bed when you heard the window click open, someone landing on the ground in a crouch.

You panicked and threw the first thing you could reach, which turned out to be an empty laundry basket. It landed smack dab on the unknown person’s head, knocking them backwards a few inches with the force of the throw, eliciting a small groan of pain.

“Ow. What was that for?”

“Pav?”

“Of course it’s me, who else would jump through your window?” He took the laundry basket and set it down in the corner, giving you a small bow. He was dressed in his suit, which might have aroused some suspicion when he was on his way here, but you were just happy that he had come. He pulled off his Spider-Man mask, running a hand through that annoyingly perfect hair of his with a sunshiny grin at you.

“What were you thinking?” You chided him, taking the laundry basket and putting it back where it was supposed to be. “You scared me, Pav. You could’ve just come through the front door. I would’ve let you in.”

“I did say I would swing by,” Pavitr joked, holding out a paper bag almost like a peace offering. A frosty glare from you prompted him to give you a rather nervous smile. “Fine, you’re right, that joke was kind of terrible. But this is good, I promise. You’ve had khakhra before, haven’t you? I asked Maya Aunty, she said crunchy snacks are good for cravings.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s true for everyone,” You pointed out, but you took the bag from him, gently squeezing his hand in gratitude. He sat down with his back against your wall under the window, patting the floor next to him as an invitation. You followed suit, allowing him to wrap an arm around you, pulling you into his side.

“Meri jaan? Can I ask you a question?” His voice interrupted the peaceful stillness of the moment as you struggled to tear open the plastic wrapper of the khakhra, your nails just not finding purchase on the slippery material.

“Of course, Pav, what’s up?” You gave up with your nails and instead slotted the packet between your teeth, succeeding in ripping only a tiny fraction. You were beginning to feel frustrated, not to mention hungry.

“Is this whole thing kind of like… you becoming a ketchup packet for a week?”

Your teeth finally ripped through the khakhra packet, the thin, crunchy discs spilling out and falling all over your lap as you looked at him in surprise.

“Aapne mujhe kya kaha tha?” (What did you call me) You had no idea whether to be shocked, amused or just plain outraged. You were leaning more toward the last option, though, and it clearly showed on your face. Pavitr quickly realized his mistake and held his hands up in surrender.

“Main bas to majaak kar raha hoon. I’m kidding, I promise.” (I’m just kidding)

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” You grumbled. He chuckled at your grumpiness, bringing you closer into his side again. Despite your wish to be at least a little bit annoyed at him, you ended up resting your head on his shoulder, vaguely wondering how someone could be so warm, both physically and emotionally. In all senses, he really was a ray of sunshine.

“Bhale hee aap ek ketchup packet the, aap ek sundar hojaega.” (Even if you were a ketchup packet, you’d be a beautiful one)

You whacked his arm lightly, trying your best to suppress a smile at that. “No more ketchup packet jokes. Or you’re not getting any khakhra.”

To emphasise your point, you gathered the flaky discs back into the ripped plastic wrapper, taking a bite out of it and relishing the crunch followed by the cracker-like salty taste.

“Mmm, it’s so amazing and so tasty. It would be a shame to not get any, but then again, more for me—” You cut yourself off with a laugh at Pavitr’s imploring puppy eyes looking down at you. “Fine, here you go.”

You plopped the packet on his lap, and for a while you both silently ate together, very nearly finishing the packet. Once you finished eating, no longer hungry, you gave a silent thanks that the advil was still working, warding off any cramps that were threatening to ruin your mood.

“Did it hurt?”

You turned your head to look at Pavitr, your eyes narrowing suspiciously, but he just gave you that same goofy grin. You had a feeling you knew where this was going, but with a sigh you decided to humour him. “Did what hurt?”

“When you fell from heaven.”

The way he delivered that line in a deeper voice than his own, waggling his eyebrows at you made you giggle softly, and his grin grew even wider. “Really?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Of all the lines you know, you really went with that one?”

“Hey, at least it’s not a ketchup packet joke.”

“Stop talking or I’ll throw something at you,” You warned, the amused glimmer in your eye and the fact that you were nestled so close against him telling him that the threat definitely wasn’t serious. You glanced at the brightening sky, suddenly remembering something. “Hang on, did you drop everything for me? Don’t you have to go be Spider-Man? Aren’t you supposed to be busy?”

Pavitr shook his head, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I have time. Besides, my spider-senses will tell me if there’s anything urgent. I’m never too busy for my ke—”

“Don’t say it.”

He laughed softly, squeezing your shoulder with the arm that was wrapped around you.

“My girl. I’m never too busy for my girl.”

———

Translations:

Meri jaan - My light / My life

Mera pyaar - My love

Arrey / Arre - Hey!

Khakhra is a large, thin cracker made from wheat flour and moth bean that is a Gujarati breakfast or tea-time snack. I know it’s Gujarati, but I’m quite sure it’s found everywhere else as well :)

Taglist:

@hobiebrownismygod

[zeky22]

This drawing is from an idea for a fanfic that I had in mind. and that I have never published.(because I really don't know much English) but here is a bit of the dialogue between these two. (just a small piece of dialogue, the fanfic was much longer. 😅🤷‍♀️)

-what do those circles mean, spaceman?

Donna asked as she interrupted the Doctor in his boring homework.

-errrr words in Gallifreyan.

-really? ooh…. *the Doctor thought she would say something else but she didn't*

The Doctor just looked at her. And she had been looking at what he had written. When she finally decided to speak it was not what the Doctor expected.

-you have terrible handwriting

-Oi!!!

-I could do better than you.

-Really? *he said sarcastically*

-Do you want a bet, timeboy?

…..

-Look, my circles are more circular than yours!

-Donna, it took you 15 minutes to write your name which only has 5 letters

-you only say that because you are jealous that my handwriting is prettier

-I'm not jealous

-Yes you are

-No I'm not

-Yes you are

-Okay okay, yes, it's better than mine… WELL! Except for some details such as the size of some or the space between others. The location a bit. But it's okay. Yeah, it's prettier than mine. happy?

-HA! I WIN!

-Anyway, it is a dead writing now, there is no one to judge or read it. Not anymore

-Could you teach me?

*The Doctor give a loud clap, surprising Donna and ignoring her question*

- So, hungry? I'm starving! And I know this planet that has the best culinary qualities. Did you know that their main specialty has bananas? is brilliant! *chatter all the way to the console. Donna just looked at him and rolled her eyes with a smile. She couldn't hate him, but she sometimes wanted to *

(Btw sorry for my bad English, + google translate is rubbish) 🥲😭💔

oh my God… I felt like it took me forever to draw a picture of these two. but here it is… I'm not very good at digital drawing but I'm trying to learn as much as I can. I couldn't sleep happily if I didn't draw a picture of them. So I'm happy now. I love them. 💜💙💯

[linawritestwst]

Ah! Congrats on 1k! I'm so happy for you! Here's to many more! 💙

I'd like a matchup, but if you get too overwhelmed, scrap mine and do a different one, I promise I'll be okay 😂

Pronouns are she/her, mbti INTJ and Zodiac is Libra.

Personality : I like to joke that the only personality I have left is "tired" 😂 But other things about me are, I'm a little wary of new people, but once you're in I'm ridiculously loyal (like a cat). I take care of everyone before myself. Think mom friend. I'm kind of a nerd....(don't look at my blog it'll out me as a huge nerd, just trust me) . My only hobbies right now are writing and video games, but I have a "secret" past as a reader, and a theatre kid. I have been described as "the darkest lightest person I've ever met" "if you were a puppy at a shelter, I'd adopt you" and "you got that fae vibe, like if I give you my name or say the wrong thing, you'll own my soul." I can't make decisions and have memory issues. I like dragons too much, and I hope to one day afford to dress like a well educated pirate, who still pillages the village, but waxes on about the state of humanity as she drinks chamomile tea. A pirate witchy dark princess vibe, you know?(idk if that helps 😂)

What I need in a partner/don't need:

I am heavily introverted and socially anxious...but I only make friends when an extrovert just adopts me. So I probably need an extrovert, or an assertive introvert.

Imy love language (receiving) is quality time and words of affirmation, and (giving) gift giving and words of affirmation.

I have lots of texture issues, so maybe someone who's not super touchy. They can be a little touchy, though, since this is fictional.

Someone not to loud too. I get panic attacks when startled, and cry around loud noises sometimes. (Oh my God, I'm literally a rabbit 😭)

Silly things about me for if you are having writers block: I'm 5'3 1/4", I have been told I have the worst handwriting in the world, I am known for tripping over nothing, I don't sit still for long, I get distracted by shiny things and cats, I hate to be warm, and love the cold, my friend and I write modern comedy adaptations of Shakespeare, and other literature.

Hope this is enough. Again, congratulations!!!!!!!!!!

thank you so much!! 🥺💖💞 i hope you like your matchup <3

the character that i think would be a good partner for you is..

malleus draconia!

now, this one might seem obvious or predictable because of your pfp but!! i really do think you and malleus would be a cute couple!!

i'll explain why i chose him:

okay, yeah, malleus would definitely appreciate having a loyal partner. your kindness is one of the many reasons why he loves you, but he'd want you to take care of yourself too though :( and don't worry about being a nerd!! he's a nerd too!! have you seen how his eyes light up whenever gargoyles are mentioned?? and he would love to know more about your interests, he doesn't think they're "boring" or "weird" at all!

oh, this man would want to protect you from everything so bad. he's surely intrigued by that mysterious energy you have, but he still focuses more on that soft and cute puppy vibe. because come on, he's malleus draconia, he's the one with the dark fae energy here HJSHJNDJDJD. and you liking dragons makes him so happy because it means you most likely won't find his dragon form scary! also i find it cute to imagine you two sharing a braincell because i think it's not that easy for malleus to make decisions sometimes, haha. though he would probably wait for you to decide, because he just really wants to agree with you and go "!! you're right!! we're gonna go with this option then :)" so take your time, don't worry, he's very patient when it comes to you at least

i don't think that malleus is that extroverted, but he would probably be a more assertive kind of introvert when you're around. and i think malleus is sort of.. "forced" to be an introvert? considering that he wants to socialize, make friends and attend parties and events, but he doesn't always have the opportunity.. also, he just gets that protective instinct when he sees you, so yeah, you're adopted now. about your texture issues, malleus would make sure to respect your boundaries and even though he would love to hug you/hold your hand/etc, he doesn't want to hurt you, so he will be careful! he can express his love for you in other ways too :) and he's not the loudest kind of person, so you don't have to worry about that either!

[appy-polly-reblogs]

(following the last tag) Okay to be continued 😂 cliffhanger

I will now 👁️👄👁️ all these for the rest of the night

Week

Life

Baiiiiiii ❤️🍀❤️🍀❤️🍀❤️🍀❤️🍀💜🏵️💜🏵️💜🏵️💜🏵️💙🌼💙🌼💙🌼💙🌼��🌸💚🌸💚🌸💚🌸💛🌺💛🌺💛🌺💛🌺💕💕💕💕

so

uh

@appy-polly-loggies you asked for the sketches, here they are

[legolasbadass]

Omg I don’t know what to say this so sweet and I am so touched! This is definitely the best birthday present ever🥺🥺🥺

Where to begin? The whole fic was amazing! It’s crazy though … how did you manage to capture the chaotic-ness of my thoughts so well? You know me too well wifey💙

He stood there, tall and proud, with his dark locks majestically flowing down his shoulders… and massaged his arm with a frown on his face.

Oh Mahal the way you describe him is just 😍🤤 Also, those ellipses are so perfectly placed; he really does make me lose my train of thought constantly!

He took them gladly, even “The Crucible”, one of your favourites, a lighthearted story about a Dwarf, an abysmal cook, who tried to make the perfect stew for his three beloved wives.

Ah, I see what you did there! @linasofia should we get her to write that story?🤣

After that, a mysterious package arrived to you with no return address. Inside, there was a rare edition of a book you have always wanted to own. There was a fresh rose sticking out from between the covers and when you opened the book at that page, you saw a note. It contained a very short and very clumsily composed poem about your eyes being compared to gems. You recognized the elegant handwriting at once. And the rune “T” at the bottom of the page.

Oh my god I just 🥺🥺😭 That is the sweetest thing ever!! Why can’t a handsome, dark haired dwarf give me such gifts in real life??

“I would like to reopen that book with you. But not where we left off. Let us skip to the good part. Let us write new pages for as long as we live. Together. What do you say?”

Did I mention how sweet this fic is!??? Thorin you are so precious and I love you with all my heart🥺🥺❤️

Seriously I cannot believe you wrote this wonderfully fluffy and romantic fic for me. I have tears in my eyes and I can’t stop smiling. Why do you live so far away when I want to give you the biggest hug??

Love you wifey💙💙💙

Hello there! Did you really think I wouldn't participate in this ask game? Well, here I am, and of course, this is about Thorin😂 😈

One thing about myself: I love books, and more importantly, I love talking about books with just about anyone (as if you didn't know that lol)! Basically I'm just a bid old nerd who wants some cuddles while reading together.

I'm a sucker for forbidden love (again, shocker, right?) but this time let's go with friends to lovers. Gimme all the fluff!

And my chosen au is the au that's not actually an au because we all know the Durins survived, aka everybody lives au!

Why hello there, stranger! 💙 Did you really think I'd forget about your ask? Not a chance!

First of all...

(Sorry about the delay though. The heatwave is killing me.)

And now, let's get down to business 🥳🎈🎁 This is both the Imagine Ask Game imagine (💞 - Friends to Lovers with Thorin) and my newest fic for the Armitage Summer Splash event so I hope you'll excuse me the almost-a-fic-but-a-bit-like-an-imagine general style of the story.

WEEK 4 - PROMPT 28

Here are the tarot cards for your ask:

And here is the prompt:

WEEK 4 - PROMPT 28

Trope: Dream Quote: “Let’s skip to the good part.” Image: link

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G Wordcount: 4165

You can find this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Amrâlimê - my love

Dream Come True

Smaug was dead and Erebor was being restored. Leaving Ered Luin and moving to your homeland was like stepping into a fairy tale. You were born in exile, but your grandmother told you many amazing tales about the true home of your clan. When the time came and Thorin Oakenshield reclaimed the Lonely Mountain, you and your family joined a caravan and headed east.

When you arrived in Erebor, you instantly fell in love with the place. It was even better than your grandmother’s stories. Luckily, your family’s old home wasn’t overly damaged, so you started your new life fairly quickly after moving back in. 

As a serious book-lover, you had one dream: to become a librarian. Since your grandmother used to be one of the librarians under the Mountain back in her day, she had taught you all you needed to know to become one. She was too old to return to her former work, but her recommendation along with your earlier work experience in a cosy little bookshop in the Blue Mountains made it possible for you to work at the Great Library of Erebor. 

In the beginning, the job meant mostly cleaning up the mess Smaug left and trying to rescue the damaged books or at least copy their content before their frail parchment pages perished forever. You often stayed up late at night, trying to decipher faded runes on the yellowed pages of yet another ancient volume, but it was worth it. So what if half of the time you actually spent on reading books instead of mending or sorting them? You had always made sure to finish the most urgent tasks before treating yourself to another chapter of “Brok The Barbarian” or “The Wuthering Red Mountains” or “The Haunted Manor of Mirkwood”. Well, almost. Sometimes Mistress Gudrun, the head librarian, would find you surrounded by a heap of books you had been sorting all morning with one of them in your lap as you devoured its contents. It was completely not your fault. That book simply happened to open of its own accord—by accident—on a very interesting page. Mistress Gudrun would shake her head with a chuckle and then leave you be. She knew you were one of the most passionate of her apprentices, even if rather easily distracted. But some things could not be helped. Besides, you reminded her of her younger self a little bit.

One night you were still at the library, finishing the task of cataloguing the “Art of War” section when you heard a suspicious noise. A sound of a door being unlocked and opened. And it was not just any door – it was the side door that was only used by the staff to enter and leave the library at any time through a conveniently placed tunnel. It even had a sign: “NO UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL”. 

Then you heard slow, heavy steps. They didn’t sound like any of your colleagues’ steps. What if it was a thief?! You grabbed the heaviest tome you could find and stalked towards that door. In the flickering light of the library lamps, you saw a shadow of a movement ahead of you. Without thinking, you gathered your courage and attacked the supposed burglar with the leather-bound tome. That would teach them not to steal!

The book hit something hard. You heard an “Oof!” and then your priceless weapon was torn out of your hands before you could react. You blinked and your mouth fell open at the large silhouette in front of you. In the faint light you saw none other than your king, the legendary Thorin II Oakenshield. You recognized him, of course, you’d seen him in the Blue Mountains many times before, but never from such a close distance. He stood there, tall and proud, with his dark locks majestically flowing down his shoulders… and massaged his arm with a frown on his face. “Do you assault all the visitors who come here to read?” he uttered an irritated growl.

You swallowed. You had just attacked your king. You hoped that the infamous dungeons of Erebor weren’t as full of hungry giant cave rats as the rumours said. After muttering apologies to your king, you explained the situation and, to your surprise, heard his explanation in turn. He was in need of some light reading after a long day and this entrance to the library was the closest one to the royal chambers. And, of course, he had the key. He was the king of this mountain, after all!

It was your lucky day: he didn’t imprison you or hang for treason and instead you offered him a few books that would make good evening reads. He took them gladly, even “The Crucible”, one of your favourites, a lighthearted story about a Dwarf, an abysmal cook, who tried to make the perfect stew for his three beloved wives. Don’t judge, okay? Culinary novels are an important element of dwarven literature!

This was how your friendship started. Yours and the king’s, not yours and that stew’s of course. Thorin and you bonded over the written word and he became a frequent late evening visitor in the library. Since then, you spent many hours – or even whole nights – discussing the stories you had both read or criticising the authors who wrote too much angst and not enough fluff. And sometimes, you would simply talk about anything and everything.

Thorin appreciated these visits more than you knew. Even if he spent a tiring day with his advisors, he knew that he’d find you in the library in the evening. With you, he could forget about his duties for a short while and enjoy both your quick wit and your charming smile. You helped him rekindle his old love for books, something he hadn’t had the chance to enjoy much when Erebor was lost. But now it was different. He reclaimed his kingdom, his people were safe, and he was finally able to find some time for leisure. So he spent it with someone he learned to appreciate and admire. You. The person with whom he could be himself. Someone who wasn’t an advisor, nor a sparring partner, nor a courtier. Someone who didn’t want to get into his good graces just because he was a king; who didn’t expect favours nor special treatment. Someone he had been thinking of as his close friend for a while now.

One day Dis approached her brother and discreetly let him know that there were rumours of him having a dalliance with a mysterious lover. Apparently, someone saw Thorin sneaking out of the royal wing late at night; someone else saw him returning shortly before dawn, and several nobles commented on the shadows under his eyes when he arrived at the morning council meetings. Some even wondered whether Thorin acted dishonourably, having trysts with an unsuspecting young lady, but not courting her openly. Or worse – what if he seduced multiple innocent maidens under everyone’s nose?! Was that conduct worthy of a king?! “Preposterous!” Thorin exclaimed. In anger, he told Dis what he had been doing and whom he was meeting. She replied, “I suspected as much. I can see that she makes you happy and it fills my heart with warmth. Have you told her of your feelings yet?”

Thorin had no idea what his sister meant. You were his good friend, nothing more! But then Dis told him that he should stop acting like an empty-headed mountain troll. She reminded him that she was not blind and spoke about all the little glances he cast at you when he thought no one was looking. Or about that meeting at the marketplace the other day when you both stood in the middle of a crowd together, oblivious of your surroundings, passionately discussing the ending of a book you had both recently finished. Oh, and the fact that he would rather spend nights in the library than sleep in his own, comfortable bed spoke volumes, too. And what about that tiny issue of him rejecting every single suggestion of marriage she or Balin proposed?

Thorin started seriously thinking about what Dis said. Was it possible that something more than friendship blossomed between you? He recalled the way you smiled at him whenever he appeared in  the library. He remembered the reluctance with which he said “good night” to you every time he had to leave. And each time he did, he saw some mysterious emotion twinkling in your bright eyes. The eyes that made him think of precious gems. And then, there was that warmth he felt deep inside. And that tingling sensation whenever your hands accidentally met.

He needed to think.

***

It had been over a week since you saw Thorin last and you started to worry. It was unlike him to disappear this way without telling you in advance that he would be busy with matters of state or that he had to leave for a diplomatic visit somewhere. As far as you knew, he was still in Erebor. 

Around that time you noticed that whenever you passed through the library, people would stare at you and whisper. The elderly Master Wurf, the biggest local gossip and the chief of the fine arts section, tsk-tsked at you and told you he expected more of you. 

When you asked him what he meant, he simply replied, “Do not feign innocence, young lady, it does not suit you. Have you no shame?” Did it have anything to do with the fact that he stumbled upon you and Thorin late at night in one of the secluded areas of the library a few days before? Master Wurf refused to say anything more. In fact, he started openly avoiding you, and he was not the only one. Even your friends began treating you in a very weird way, suddenly interrupting their conversations whenever you appeared or making themselves scarce. One of them even had the audacity to ask whether you could fix them with a permanent position as a royal clerk since you had “access” to the king. He winked and chuckled when he said it, but you found nothing funny about this. Things turned even less amusing when the amount of crude remarks towards you multiplied and you even received several very improper proposals. And then one day you heard your nosy neighbour speak to her husband, “Look, that harlot is coming! I wonder how much the king pays her for…”

“Stop wagging your tongue, woman, and give me my dinner!” her spouse bellowed.

“Woman?! Woman?! After 157 years of marriage you have forgotten my name, you smelly boar?! I’ll teach you…”

The familiar sounds of their customary weekly fistfight ensued followed by their passionate exclamations of love that usually came after, but you did not hear it. You ran home, teary-eyed, and locked yourself in your room. “The king’s harlot”. Those words stung more than they should. But what hurt even more was that Thorin stopped seeing you so abruptly. In these circumstances, you  came to a conclusion: he did not want to see you again. His reputation as a king was worth more to him than your quiet friendship. He did not even have the decency to speak with you in person. Perhaps you were not as close as you had thought you were. Those late night conversations, fiery discussions, private jokes you shared… all of it was gone now. You were left only with memories of those moments, of his cerulean eyes, and of that low, velvety voice speaking your name.

Now, your reputation was ruined. You could wave any hopes of finding a spouse goodbye. No one seemed to believe you, and it was probably a matter of time until Mistress Gudrun would dismiss you from the library for indecent conduct, even if it was just based on some gossip.

As you wallowed in self-pity, there was a knock on the door and before you could say “enter”, your grandmother barged into your room.

“My dear girl, are you sleeping with the king?” she asked in her charmingly blunt way, staring you straight in the eye.

“Of course not, granny!” you exclaimed. That one time when you and Thorin both dozed off late at night in the library and your head happened to rest on his very comfortable shoulder surely didn’t count! You still remembered the moment when you both woke up, staring sleepily into each other’s eyes, his lips barely inches from yours. No, that dot not count even a bit!

“What a shame,” she sighed and sat next to you with a grunt. “So all those things I hear are only unsubstantiated rumours?” “I’m afraid so,” you reached for your handkerchief in an attempt to dry your cheeks.

“And here I was thinking that at least you had some fun!” “Grandma, he is the king!” you gasped. “Oh yes, he is, and he is quite a handsome one, is he not?” she grinned.

“Come on, granny! Thorin and I are just friends! He sometimes visits the library, nothing more!”

“Are you well, my dear? Your cheeks are red. You are not blushing, are you?” “Of course I am not blushing! It is the heat, I must have put too many logs into the fireplace, that is all,” you tried your best bluff.

“If you say so, dear,” your grandma nodded, patting your hand. “Then I guess there must be some misunderstanding with that royal messenger at our door…” “What? What? What? What are you talking about, granny?” you almost jumped up.

“A nice young fellow has just arrived with a dinner invitation for you from king Thorin,” she smiled sweetly at you. And when your grandma smiled sweetly, that was an equivalent of a shark baring his teeth.

“Tell him I’m not unavailable! I’m sick! I’ve gone to visit our relatives in the White Mountains!” you panicked.

“Truly, child? Is that the best you can do? All my teachings for nothing…” she hung her head theatrically. Our last relatives in the White Mountains moved away from there over 200 years ago during the last Orc War. Do you want the king to think that you are related to an Orc?”

“No! Granny! Oh no! I just… I don’t want to see him! Because of those horrible rumours, he’ll probably tell me that… this is the end of our… our friendship,” you sobbed while your heart raced like crazy in your chest. “I can’t… I can’t face him. Not now. I just want to be left alone until it all blows over.” “Very well, my child,” your grandma gave you a reassuring hug. “If that is what you want, I will make it happen.”

***

You spent several peaceful days at home, taking a sick leave. Even your granny agreed that you deserved some rest. Secretly, you hoped that the rumours would soon die down and everyone would once again leave you alone. It felt strange to spend the evenings at home with your family instead of copying the old parchments and waiting for the familiar squeaking sound of the opening door, along with Thorin’s customary “Good evening”. Oh, how you longed to hear his voice once again, to sit with him and simply enjoy his presence…

Instead, two more dinner invitations came, each of them written with golden letters on the best parchment you have ever seen, but you refused them both. Those were the formal invitations from the king, not your friend Thorin, and they did not bode well.

After that, a mysterious package arrived to you with no return address. Inside, there was a rare edition of a book you have always wanted to own. There was a fresh rose sticking out from between the covers and when you opened the book at that page, you saw a note. It contained a very short and very clumsily composed poem about your eyes being compared to gems. You recognized the elegant handwriting at once. And the rune “T” at the bottom of the page.

It was not possible. It had to be a mistake. Thorin never really liked poetry. And what about that beautiful flower? And the precious book?

“Are my old eyes failing me or is this a threefold gift?” your grandma asked, putting her book away.

“Granny, we both know you have eyes like a hawk! Wait… a threefold gift?” you forgot to breathe. The rose. The poem. The book. Three pieces. Exactly like the tradition said. Oh, shoot.

“What will you send him in return?” your grandma’s tone was alarmingly casual. “You can’t keep a courting gift waiting for too long, you know…” 

“That’s… I don’t plan to send him anything,” you put the beautiful gift box aside, not wanting to look at it any longer.

“Do you know when was the last time Thorin Oakenshield sent his last courting gift?” you heard your granny’s soft voice.

“I don’t,” you admitted, your throat tightening.

“The answer is: never. The whole kingdom assumed he was devoted to his craft and therefore uninterested in marriage. It seems that we all were wrong and he found someone special after all,” she mused.

“You don’t understand, granny. Thorin is an honourable dwarf. He knows about that gossip and he realises how damaging it is to my reputation so he is trying to do what he feels is right out of his sense of duty. Plus, I’d make a very bad queen…”

Your grandmother just shook her head and, to your surprise, said nothing, leaving you with your dark thoughts.

***

The next courting gift from Thorin came a week later. Another exciting book, another clumsy but sweet poem, and another flower (a daisy, as pink as your lips, as the new poem claimed). Your grandma simply looked at you from behind her half-moon spectacles but, again, did not say a word.

You put the gifts into your wardrobe with an attempt to forget about them. As tradition said, if you were not interested in the courtship, the only thing you had to do was simply not to respond to these gifts and leave them be. And that was exactly what you did. After reading the books, of course. The courting traditions did not say anything about not being allowed to reading them. That was what books were for, weren’t they? 

The problem was, the third gift came a week later, another one a week after that, and then they just kept on coming. Your free wardrobe space was shrinking rapidly. Meanwhile, your granny and the royal messenger became fast friends and she even began baking her delicious cinnamon buns every Friday — because that was the day he would come with another courting gift from Thorin. At the same time, you absolutely did not feel any anticipation every Friday morning. You were not interested in empty gifts sent to you out of misplaced pity. Not at all. And yet, you still missed Thorin, your dear… friend.

***

Almost  two months passed and everyone seemed to have forgotten about your alleged scandalous affair with the king — or perhaps they had simply become bored with it. The gossip mill of Erebor was now busy with another topic: the royal jeweller’s wife gave birth to twins and the rumour had it that each of the babes was supposed to have a different father. When your grandmother heard it for the first time, she laughed to tears together with the royal messenger who, along with that piece of gossip, brought you another courting gift. A brand new, illustrated copy of your favourite “The Crucible”, a touching poem with loneliness as a main theme, and a simple forget-me-not flower. Now you too had tears in your eyes.

One day you stayed at the library longer than usual, determined to finish making the inventory of the newest books that arrived from the Blue Mountains. You were so focused on the task that you hadn’t heard the characteristic squeaking sound of a particular door being opened.

“Good evening,” the rumbly, familiar voice broke the silence that surrounded you. And then you heard your own name spoken in that very special way you secretly adored.

“Thorin?” you almost jumped in surprise. He stood before you, just as he did that first time you had met here, wearing a simple dark blue tunic that emphasised his strapping figure of a warrior, his hair slightly ruffled, his temple free from the Raven Crown of Erebor, but this time there was no frown on his face. Instead, a slight smile danced on his lips. Mahal, how you had missed seeing him. “I am glad to see you here again. May we talk?” His eyes searched your face and one look into them was enough to melt your resolve.

Your conversation started awkwardly at first. Thorin was convinced that he offended you somehow and wanted to know what he could do to make amends. He wished to understand why you refused to see him and avoided him for so long. Brimming with strong emotions, in a trembling voice you spoke of your disappointment and all the misery the rumours had caused you. “... and when you stopped coming to the library, I thought I lost a… friend,” you finally admitted quietly, stifling a sob.

“You have never lost me. I needed to reflect on some matters in solitude, but now I know that I have failed you. I believed those rumours would harmlessly disappear. For that I am asking for your forgiveness and if it will be granted to me, I still would like to continue being your… friend, if I cannot be anything else.” 

While listening to his words, you looked at your hands that somehow found themselves in his large, warm palms of a blacksmith. You discovered that you liked the feeling and the sensations that came with it. You did not want him to let go of you even if you probably should.

“And what else would you like to be?” you asked, unable to ignore the effect his closeness had on you. These were the same hands that gently picked the flowers, carefully chose the books and wrote those awkward poems for you every single week while you were apart. And the regal features of his face were now softened by a hopeful smile that reached all the way to his eyes.

“Do you remember that old parchment we once read together? The one that said: ‘Life is but a book and every day – merely a page’?” Thorin squeezed your hands gently.

“I do, but what does it have to do with you and me?”

“I would like to reopen that book with you. But not where we left off. Let us skip to the good part. Let us write new pages for as long as we live. Together. What do you say?”

“Together,” your voice wavered, “as… friends?”

Thorin’s hands moved to your arms, shoulders, then to your neck, and then cupped your face, making your breath hitch. His face was so close to yours now, your nose brushed against his. You could even feel the warmth of his breath and the softness of his hair against your cheek. As you took a deep breath, your lungs filled with that unmistakable scent of pine needles, leather, and ink. So unmistakably, reassuringly Thorin.

“No, not at all as friends,” he murmured, gently pressing his forehead against yours, and then added one little world that turned your world upside down, “Amrâlimê.”

“Do you mean it?” your eyes widened. “Truly?”

Without a word, Thorin took out a little wooden box out of his pocket. There were his and your runes carved in its cover. When he handed it to you,  you took it from him and opened it. Inside, you saw an elegant mithril braid bead and a beautiful matching ring adorned with diamonds – symbols of eternal love. No Dwarf would offer such breathtaking gifts simply out of duty. 

You wanted to pinch yourself when Thorin took one of your hands and placed it over his heart.

“Truly. I do not wish to only be your friend. Not any longer. I want to share my life with you, if you will have me.”

Your vocal cords refused to cooperate. All you could do was nod and wrap your arms around him, tucking your head under his bearded chin. 

“Is that a ‘yes’, Amrâlimê?” Thorin whispered softly while the gentleness of his arms encircled you.

“Oh, Thorin. I didn’t dare to dream that this day would ever come. Yes.”

He took your hand into his a placed a careful kiss on the back of your palm. And then he slipped on your finger the ring he had made with his own hands during that time you were apart. When you met his gaze, the eternal diamonds shone in his eyes.

On that day you learned that some dreams do come true, after all.

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General taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @legolasbadass @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @tschrist1 @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512 @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @elliepie1226 @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @guylty

Thorin taglist: @narniaandthenorth @i-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @jaskierthelover @asgardianhobbit98 @thespiritoflife @justfollowtheroad