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[crazililwabbit]

Until The Daybreak - A Skyrim Fic

This story is part of the ‘Seal Upon Your Heart’ Series, find the timeline here.

You can find my fanfic master list here.

“Dyre is new in Skyrim, and is ready to start her new life. But she is having to learn that sometimes for something new to grow you need to burn what was there before.” Farkas/OC Dovahkiin

Rated M, for some adult themed content, and drug use.

Ch 2 - Watching and Waiting For Thee

I held my bow at the ready as we circled one another. He held his shield and sword out, but in a defensive stance.  As we made our way around I tried to match his movements; step when he stepped, shift when he shifted.

“Come on!” he yelled. “Come at me!”

Shaking, I drew my bow and without much thought, let an arrow fly. It hit his shield with a loud thud.

“Good!” he roared. “Again!”

I strung another arrow, more steady this time. I could feel the power behind this one as I allowed myself to focus. This one hit his shield as well, the thud louder this time, the blow made him stagger.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he grinned darkly, “and you’re good with that bow.”

He stood, allowing his shield and sword to fall to his sides.

I glanced to my left to see Farkas standing on the stone steps with his arms crossed. He was smiling with his eyes scrunched against the sun.

“I want you to try your luck with these,” Vilkas was coming towards me with a small axe and mace. I flinched when he thrusted them at me. “Take them, one in each hand.”

I slung my bow on my back and took them from him. “I… I have never used these before,” I mumbled.

“That’s fine,” he turned and walked back to his place across from me, “I just want to see how you handle them.”

I glanced back at Farkas, who still stood there, smiling. He must have noticed me glance at him, because he called out to me.

“Give him a thrashing!”

Vilkas laughed with a sneer. “Yes,” he mocked me, “I’d like to see you try.” He took a step to the left, circling again. “Now, come at me!”

The mace was heavier than the axe and I wasn’t sure I could get a good swing in. “But -”

“No!” he scowled. “No excuses! When you are in combat there are no excuses; only life and death. Now, come at me.” He lunged at me with his shoulder, but I was quick enough to move out of the way. I brought the axe up over my head and brought it down on him as he passed me. Again, I caught his shield.

“You’re quick,” he grinned. It wasn’t like Farkas’ smile; it was dark and still made me fearful of him. “That’s good. You’ll need to be, to hit me.”

We returned to circling one another. “Try again,” he said, “I want you to attack me this time.”

We went through two more step cycles and I was still trying to think of how I wanted to lunge when he came at me again. “You’re too slow, Lass.”

I moved out of the way again, bringing my mace down on his shield this time.

“Again, you’re too -” his face changed from a mocking smile to surprise as I brought my axe within inches of his neck. He smiled again, but this time it was the same, warm smile I saw on his brother.

“Well done, Lass. You’re a natural,” his arms dropped to his sides. “I’ll tell Kodlak that you’re ready for work.”

“Thank you,” I allowed my arms to relax also.

“Those are for you to keep,” he motioned to the axe and mace. “Kodlak says so. A warrior should never find themselves without close combat weapons.”

“Thank you, again,” I smiled. He turned and walked away without another word. As I watched him leave I felt as though I could see him for who he really was, not angry, but full of sadness.

“You did really well!” I turned to look at Farkas who was standing next to me. “Come to me if you want any help with your one handed training.”

“Thank you,” I smiled wider. This man was so different from others I had met. There was something deeply warm about him and it drew me in.

“This is yours too,” he held out my bag I had left on the steps.

“Oh, thank you.” I held my arms up, in an attempt to take it from him but the weapons filled my hands. “Um…”

“Here,” he took both weapons with one hand and held my bag out for me. “We need to get you fitted for a way to hang those on your belt.”

“Yea,” I slung my bag over my shoulder and held my hands out to take the weapons back.

“What’s in your bag anyway?” He ignored my physical request. “It smells nice.”

“I picked up some flowers on the way here for alchemy. I can take those back now.”

“That’s okay,” he smiled, “I’ll carry them for you.”

“Oh,” I could feel my cheeks burn red. “Okay. Thank you.”

“C’mon,” he swung his arm and shoulder towards the hill behind the hall. “I’ll introduce you to Eorlund. He can get you fitted for anything you need.”

I held the piece of paper in my hand. I had never gotten a letter before, yet alone one from a Jarl. I had read its contents so many times I wasn’t sure what to think of them. The Jarl of Whiterun was asking me for help, to fight a dragon. He mentioned that I had more experience than anyone else. 

Experience. The word made me laugh. I had barely made it out of there alive. I just ran and ran until I met up with Ralof. We then snuck out under Helgen to avoid the beast, that’s the only reason I lived. The only reason I had ‘experience’.

“What’s that?” Farkas asked, his mouth full of food.

I smiled up at him. He looked like an over-sized child, it was endearing.

“A letter,” I sighed. “From the Jarl.”

“The Jarl!?” he exclaimed sitting next to me on the bench. “What’s it about? You must be pretty important to get a letter from the Jarl.”

I laughed. “No,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not. Before I came here I came from Helgen. I was meant to be executed as a criminal. I only got out alive because of the dragon attack. The Jarl assumes that I have experience with dragons now and is asking for my aid with one that has been seen nearby.”

“A criminal?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing serious,” I frowned. “Why does everyone assume I am good at things? I’m not important, I’m not special.”

“You impressed Vilkas,” Farkas swallowed his food and gave me his warm smile. “I heard him talking to Kodlak.”

“That was pure luck,” I sighed. “I have never done anything like it before in my whole life.”

“Then it’s skill,” he patted my shoulder with his huge hand. “There is no luck in combat. Luck is for thieves. For warriors there is only skill, learned or natural.”

I rested my head in my hands. “But I don’t want to fight a dragon,” I groaned.

“He wants you to fight a dragon!?” he boomed, all excitement returned. “I would give my right arm to fight a dragon!”

“Then you go,” I tossed the paper at him.

“Ah, I can’t go in your place,” he picked up the paper. “But if you would like, I will accompany you.”

“Really?” I lifted my head up. “Why would you do that? You could get killed.”

“It’s what we do, Dyre,” he smiled wider now, “we’re a family here.”

“Here,” Farkas held the small purple flower out to me. “I don’t think you have this one yet.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and took the plant from him, “but I don’t think this is the time to be gathering plants.”

“You’ll need them when we get back to Jorrvaskr, if you’re going to try out your alchemy,” he smiled.

We had made our way to the meeting point where Irileth, the Jarl’s housecarl, had told the small company of soldiers to meet. The skies were clear and blue aside from the black column of smoke rising from the west. The day was cool enough that I wasn’t sweating under my armor yet, but warm enough that I wasn’t cold either. I had managed to, with Farkas help, attach my new mace and axe to my belt. My bow was slung over my back and I had a quiver full of new arrows.

‘I am as ready to die as I will ever be,’ I thought to myself. I was sure this dragon was going to kill me, but I was determined to go down fighting.

Irileth and the other guards accompanying her showed up sooner than I had hoped and I tried to listen to the pep talk she was giving us but all I could think about was the dragon I had gotten glimpses of at Helgen. It was like a nightmare. There had been smoke and fire everywhere, people dying in the roads, burning alive. Now I was willingly returning to a similar fate.

I was pulled from my thoughts by the sudden movement of all the guards and Farkas towards the column of smoke. I hadn’t been paying as much attention as I had thought.

We made our way towards the toppling tower and picked up pace as we got closer.

“Hurry!” a guard yelled. “Get inside the tower! The damned thing is still out there! It grabbed Tor when he tried to make a run for it!”

We hurried into the tower, but no sooner had we made it inside then the ground shook and the familiar roar of a dragon filled the air.

“You ready?” Farkas smiled at me. His smile was similar to the one Vilkas had given me during my testing the day before. “I know I am!” His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t recognize, and it triggered my flight instincts. Fighting back my urge to run from what I had seen in a man I thought I trusted and the sounds of the dragon outside I pulled my bow out.

Following behind some of the other guards we filed out of the tower and took to looking towards the skies, searching for our enemy. It wasn’t long before he found us.

The heat from the fire he poured down on us was overwhelming. Still, I tried my best to aim and fire as many arrows as I could before he flew out of range.

He landed about fifty yards away from where I stood, just outside of the tower and I took this chance to readjust my quiver so I could better reach my arrows. I turned to face the dragon again and as I did so I felt my quiver slip and fall from my shoulder, spilling my arrows all over the ground.

“Damn it!” I cursed myself, “you’re so damn clumsy!” I caught myself reaching for the arrows. ‘No time, no time, no time!’ I yelled at myself as I dropped my bow and reached for my axe and mace.

“In the name of Ysgramor!” I heard Farkas yell as he ran towards the dragon. He got in several strikes on the beast’s neck before being knocked aside. I heard his head hit a rock with a loud crack.

“You are brave! Balaan hokoron! Your defeat brings me honor!” I heard a voice boom and I stood in shock. It had come from the dragon and I swore I could see a smile on its face. He turned towards Farkas’ unconscious form.

I was suddenly filled with an overwhelming rage. This strange man was one of the few who had been kind to me and even treated me like an equal. I couldn’t bear the thought of such a kind man dying because I was too afraid to face this dragon alone. With a yell, I jumped from my spot on the pile of rubble and landed on the grass below.

“Coward!” I called to the dragon. “You dare kill a man while he cannot defend himself!”

“You dare speak in the tongue of the Dov!” he turned to face me, leaving Farkas behind him. “I shall crush you!”

It was as if the whole thing was a dance I had known in a past life. My body moved without my command and I found myself dodging the dragon’s movements, bringing my weapons down upon his head again and again, each blow more solid than the last. He was beginning to slow and the blood that was pouring from his wounds was running into his eyes. He began to flail his head about wildly, temporarily blinded. I leapt atop his head and with all my strength brought my axe down into his skull.

“Dovakiin! No!” I heard him yell as he thrashed wildly before collapsing to the ground, dead.

I returned to the ground and tried to stumble towards Farkas, wanting to see if he was even still alive. I didn’t realize it was happening until the heat in my chest grew uncomfortable. I dropped my weapons and clutched my chest. As the heat grew it made my throat burn and I felt as if there was something stuck in my wind pipe. I felt like I was going to be sick. Just as I was sure I was going to lose the fruit I had eaten for breakfast that morning, the sound tore from my chest.

“Fus!” The voice was my own, but it sounded surreal. I clapped my hands over my mouth and stared wide eyed at the guards standing around me.

“That…” one of them pointed at me, “that was a shout.”

“I heard her call to the dragon in their tongue during the battle!” another called out. “She is Dragonborn!”

I was confused. They sounded like they were talking nonsense.

“I just don’t feel well,” I said, picking up my weapons.

“No,” Farkas said behind me, his voice solemn.

I whirled around. “How did you -”

“That was a shout,” he stared at me. I didn’t think he was capable of looking this serious. “You are Dovakiin, Dragonborn.”

I sat in the hall of Jorrvaskr, my elbows resting on the table before me, and my head in my hands.

‘How did I get myself into this, Mother?’ I asked her. ‘I just wanted to return home like you told me. Once I got here, all I wanted was somewhere warm to sleep.’

“How long do you think you will be gone for?” the voice startled me and I jerked my head up to see Farkas sitting down next to me.

“I don’t know,” I groaned. “I don’t really even want to go.”

Farkas smiled, “you need to Dyre. You seem to be eager to get away from the path that has been laid out for you.”

“The path that was laid before me years ago has not treated me well,” I sighed, looking him in the eyes. “I have been trying to leave it my whole life.”

His smile faded. “Maybe you shouldn’t be.” He placed his tankard on the table. “It brought you here, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I returned to staring at the table before me, “it did.”

“You need to visit the Greybeards and stay there as long as you can,” he patted my back. “Learn as much as you can. There hasn’t been a Dragonborn in centuries. With the dragons returning, Skyrim needs you.”

I laughed. “Skyrim needs me…” I couldn’t stop laughing, I was beginning to feel hysterical. “Do you know how I ended up here, Farkas? I was caught trying to sneak across the border and was thrown into a cart with a bunch of men I didn’t know.” I caught my breath and wiped my tired eyes. “On the ride to Helgen I learned that one of them was Ulfric Stormcloak, the man who murdered the High King. When we got to Helgen we were all lined up to be killed. No one even bothered to ask us what we had been arrested for.”

His smile had faded and he was listening intently to my story.

“I only made it out of there alive, between the Imperials trying to kill me and the dragon trying to kill everyone because of sheer, dumb luck.” I could feel what had started as laughter turn into tears. “Whoever decided that anyone needed me obviously doesn’t know me very well. I have spent my entire life hardly able to care for myself let alone anyone else.

“And you have been so kind to me,”  I turned to face him. “That almost got you killed today.”

“Dyre,” he placed his hand on mine. “I went today because I wanted to help you. Never mind what happened there, I’m fine now.”

“I noticed,” I eyed him. “You don’t seem to be suffering much at all from that blow to the head.”

He pulled his hand away from mine. “What blow to the head?” he reached up and scratched the back of his head. “That dragon hit me in the chest.”

“I know but,” I reached up and placed my hand on the back of his head, there was nothing there, “I could have sworn I heard you hit your head.”

“Well,” his cheeks turned a little red, “I didn’t.” He smiled again, and my heart leapt in my chest.

“I… uh,” I could feel my cheeks turning red too. “So, I need to visit these Greybeards, huh?” I sat back down in my chair and returned my head to my hands.

“I will travel with you,” he laid his hand on my back. “We’ll get you there together.”

@iwantthedean @apurdyfulmind

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[crazililwabbit]

Ghost Town - A Supernatural/Fallout Crossover Fic

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As always, my fanfic master list is here.

“Sam and Dean take the newly human Castiel on a routine run to look into what they have been told is a vampire abduction ring. What happens when they wake up over 200 years in the future, when the world is a wasteland and their saviors are three girls who's pasts have shaped them into the perfect survivalists? Action and romance in the Commonwealth!” Dean/OC, Sam/OC, and Castiel/OC

M rating for language.

Chapter Four - Home Is Where Your Bot Is

“I don’t remember Boston being this cramped,” Sam looked up at the looming, empty skyscrapers.

“A lot of the technological advancements we were talking about earlier came out of CIT, making way for many of the major corporations to build headquarters here, including Vault-Tec, the makers of the vault you guys were in,” Ellie’s grip on her rifle tightened, “I don’t like them.” She continued to stare at the buildings as they walked down the deserted streets.

“There is something unnerving about them,” Sam took a larger step, so he was closer to her.

“They’ve always made me feel like there is someone up there watching me, just waiting for my back to be turned,” her eyes left the buildings and looked up at Sam.

“Well, that’s part of what is good about being in a large group right?” he offered a comforting smile, “we can look out for each other.”

“Yeah, well if we had left you idiots in Diamond City like I thought the plan was, we would be able to move a lot quieter, and might even be home by now,” Bo growled at the talking pair.

“Bo,” Lou sighed, “we voted, it was two to one…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” she gritted her jaw.

“And…?” Lou prompted her friend.

Bo sighed heavily, “once a vote is made, everyone accepts the outcome, no questions.”

“That was your rule,” Lou smiled.

“Never thought the bastard would come back to bite me in the ass so hard.” She caught Dean out of the corner of her sight, “hey!” she hissed at him, “don’t go somewhere we can see you!”

“Oh,” Dean backed away from the doorway he was crouched in, “I just thought maybe there would be something in there.”

“That’s fine,” Lou joined him near the doorway, “but she is right, if you go out of sight we might not realize something happened to you.”

“I know,” Dean frowned, “I wasn’t going to go in alone.”

“Alright then,” Lou smiled, “let’s go take a look.”

“There is no chance there’s anything left in there,” Bo grumbled as she sat down on the sidewalk.

“We should rest while they’re in there,” Ellie sat next to Bo, “we are almost home though.” She craned her neck to look down the road, “only a couples miles left.”

Sam joined Ellie on the sidewalk, “Cas?” he glanced up at the angel who was trying to look in one of the boarded up windows of the building Dean and Lou had gone into.

“I should have gone in with them,” the angel gave up and sat down.

“They’ll be alright,” Ellie handed them water, “Lou knows what she is doing. The only person better suited to go in there would be Boden.”

Bo chuckled to herself.

The four sat in silence for almost twenty minutes before Castiel broke the silence.

“I am going in to find them,” he stood up.

“They’re fine,” Bo rolled her eyes.

“It’s been too long…” Castiel began to protest but was interrupted by Lou appearing in the doorway.

“Sorry that took so long,” Lou grinned, “Dean found a safe that needed opened.”

“Really?” Ellie elbowed Bo. “What was in it?”

“Someone’s cap stash, and a 10mm pistol,” Lou held up the metal tin and shook it, “seems like someone was hiding their backup goodies here.”

“Good find!” Ellie grinned at Dean who emerged from behind Lou.

“Here,” Lou handed him the tin, “you found them, they’re yours.”

“You picked the lock,” he looked at her, “you should get some of it too.”

“Nah,” she winked at him, “you keep it.”

“Let’s go, radroaches, I wanna get home,” Bo stood up and began walking down the street again.

“Yeah, we need to get back before it gets dark,” Lou followed her, “this isn’t the place to be when the sun goes down.”

“What time is it? What time is it?” Ellie pulled on Sam’s Pip-Boy.

“Um,” Sam pressed a small black button, causing the screen to flicker, “I don’t know.”

“Well, we have about…” Ellie looked up at the sky, “an hour of sun left.” She looked at the little green and black screen. She reached up and turned the top dial, the screen flickered again and a small map appeared. “Ah, there, it’s 7:00. So the sun sets at about 8:00!” she grinned from ear to ear.

“How did you do that?” Sam looked closer at the screen.

“We will take a better look at it when we get home,” she began to follow the group, “we’ll make a real vault dweller out of you yet.”

“This is where you live?” Dean leaned back staring up at the huge skyscraper in front of them.

“Sure is,” Bo walked towards the front doors. “Oh, and you see that little piece of rebar there?” she pointed to a piece of the twisted metal about a foot long sticking out of some concrete.

“Yeah, what about it?” Dean followed her.

“Those are all around the outside and inside of the building,” she stepped through the entrance, the doors hanging useless on their hinges, “they mark where we have buried landmines, so be careful.”

“Not much to look at, is it?” Dean stopped in what used to be a gigantic foyer to the building. The wallpaper was peeling down the walls, and the once red carpet had faded a long time ago.

“That’s the point,” Lou passed Dean, “it’s supposed to look abandoned. Less it looks like someone lives here, less likely you are to get raided.”

“Makes sense,” Sam nodded passing Dean as well.

The group crossed the lobby making their way to the elevators to the right side of the lobby.

“Does that even still work?” Sam looked around the lobby as Bo pressed the button to call the car.

A hissing and popping from the intercom by the button console prevented Sam from getting an answer.

“What is the music of life?” an electronic voice came over the intercom.

“It’s us Handsy, skip the bull-shit and just let us up,” Bo sighed.

“That is incorrect, the elevator car will not be deployed,” the voice replied followed by silence.

“Damn it, Ellie!” Bo glared at the grinning girl, “I hate your fucking robot, I’m tired and I just want to get home.”

“If you’d just answer the question, he would send the elevator,” Ellie continued to grin.

Bo angrily pressed the button again.

“What is the music of life?” the voice asked again.

Bo rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, “silence, my brother.”

“Very good, ma’am, the car is on the way,” the voice replied before cutting off again.

“What is that from?” Sam rubbed his chin, “it sounded familiar.”

“It’s from a comic I read when I was little,” Ellie smiled up at him, “added precaution, you know.”

The elevator creaked as it settled and opened the doors for them.

“I don’t think…” Dean took a step back, “how about you just tell us what floor to meet you on, and we will take the stairs.”

“Dean, I don’t think…” Sam began.

“You can if you’d like,” Bo stepped into the car, “but all the stairwells are collapsed at the third floor, and we are going to twenty-four.”

“Come on,” Lou patted him on the shoulder, “it’s perfectly safe, I promise.”

She followed Ellie, Sam, and Castiel onto the elevator.

“This is insane…” Dean mumbled as he joined them.

The elevator lurched as it began to slowly climb the shaft. It rocked back and forth, the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling seemed to pop and fizzle in time with each lurch. By the time they reached the twenty-fourth floor, all the color had drained from Dean’s face.

“See?” Lou smiled at him as the doors shuddered open, “perfectly safe.”

“Welcome home, ma’am!” a cheerful voice with a thick English accent called from the other room.

“Thank you, Handsy!” Ellie set her bag down by the elevator door and sighed heavily. “It’s good to be home.”

“Hell yeah it is,” Bo grinned as she hurried across the room and through a doorway, “I’ll see you suckers later.”

“Dinner in an hour,” Lou called after her.

“Roger!” Bo’s muffled voice could be heard from beyond the walls.

The guys slowly filed out of the elevator, taking in their surroundings.

“This looks like it was a waiting area,” Sam glanced around the large room, his eyes resting on the receiving desk opposite the elevator.

“Yeah?” Lou set her bag and the wrapped bundle on the desk. “Ellie thinks it was an extension of Robco before the bombs fell.”

“I don’t think it was,” Ellie sighed, “I know it was.”

Lou chuckled, “right.”

“Welcome home Miss Louise!” the accented voice called again as a slow moving robot rounded the corner.

“Hello, Handsy,” Lou was pulling items out of her back and sorting them on the desk.

“Miss Elenore,” the robot’s frame slowly began to turn towards Ellie, but froze when its sensors picked up the three men clumped in front of the open elevator. “Intruders!” the mechanical voice raised in pitch as the machine gun end at the end of its right arm began to spin.

“Abort!” Lou screamed, “abort, abort!”

“Handsy!” Ellie jumped between the robot and the guys, “initiate protocol 46, Newcomer Input.”

The machine gun slowed to a stop as the arm lowered back down, “protocol initiated, awaiting Input.”

“Handsy, input three new profiles, security level…” Ellie glanced back at the three men before returning to the robot, “blue.”

“Profile four created, input identifier,” the robot stood motionless as it awaited information.

Ellie motioned for Dean to speak. “Say your name, full name is best,” she whispered

“Uh, Dean,” he hesitated, “Dean Winchester.”

“Input received, profile identifier, Uh Dean Dean Winchester saved.”

“Override profile identifier,” Ellie rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger.

“Profile identifier overridden, awaiting profile identifier input,” the robot whirred, the motion could be seen through the clear covering on its shoulders.

Ellie motioned again.

“Dean Winchester,” Dean stated, his voice stern.

“Input received, profile identifier, Dean Winchester saved,” there was a pause, “input pronoun preference.”

“Male, or female…” Ellie whispered.

“Male, for sure male,” Dean smiled, “all male.”

“Input received, pronoun preference saved for profile, Dean Winchester.”

“You next,” Ellie motioned at Sam.

“Profile five created, input identifier.”

“Sam Winchester.” Sam shrugged.

Ellie gave him a grin and a thumbs up.

“Input received, profile identifier, Sam Winchester saved. Input pronoun preference.”

“Male,” Sam nodded.

“Input received, pronoun preference saved for profile, Sam Winchester.”

“Now you,” Ellie smiled and motioned at Castiel.

“Profile six created, input identifier.”

Castiel cleared his throat, “Castiel.”

“Input received, profile identifier, Castiel saved. Input pronoun preference.”

Silence.

Lou put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at the angel.

“Input received, profile identifier, Castiel saved. Input pronoun preference,” the robot repeated.

“Neither, I am not male or female,” Castiel shifted on his feet.

“Response not recorded, input invalid, awaiting pronoun preference input for profile, Castiel.”

“I am not…” Castiel was interrupted by Dean grabbing his arm.

“Just tell the robot what to call you,” Dean whispered, “so we can get this over with.”

“Dean, you know I am not innately male or female, as an angel I…” Castiel was cut off by Sam this time.

“I think the robot only has two input values for this command, Cas.” Sam smiled an encouraging half smile, “maybe you could go with the gender of your vessel.”

“Jimmy identified himself as a human male,” Castiel looked down at his body, “I suppose in this case it is not untrue that I am a human male.”

“Awaiting pronoun preference input for profile, Castiel,” the robot repeated.

“Male,” Castiel answered.

“Input received, pronoun preference saved for profile, Castiel,” the robot began to move again, walking slowly towards the three men. “Welcome home, Sirs.”

“Uhhh,” Dean grimaced as the robot approached him and began to reach an arm out to him, “thanks.” Dean extended his arm for a handshake.

The robot’s claw moved past Dean’s extended hand and around to behind him, “good job!” the robot exclaimed as it gave Dean one quick swat on the butt.

“What the!?” Dean jumped back and raised both hands in the air.

Lou erupted in laughter.

“No, no, no, no…” Sam held his hands up and began to back away as the robot turned towards him.

“Handsy, you can skip the formalities,” Ellie giggled.

“Very good Miss Elenore,” the robot began to whirr again as it turned back to face her. “While you were out there was a glitch in the power grid. No security features were affected, however, I believe the water heater is offline.”

“Thanks Handsy,” Ellie sighed as she opened her bag and began to pull items out, “I hope no one had their heart set on a shower tonight, the water heater is going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

“What was that?” Dean was still standing with his arms in the air.

Lou chuckled, “Mr. Hansy is a bit of a…” she paused, “project.”

“Handsy is just fine the way he is,” Ellie sniffed.

“When we first found this place she found that old Protectron bot still in its power station,” Lou began to pile some of the items back into her bag. “The only thing she couldn’t manage to fix was the fried personality-interface card. The only viable one she was able to find was a card from a Mr. Handy, the bots made for helping in homes a long time ago.”

“It was an excellent find!” Ellie’s eyes lit up, “the Mr. Handy bots are rare to find in a semi-functioning state anymore, and to have one that wasn’t owned with a functioning personality card was amazing luck!”

“But,” Lou sighed, “there was a problem getting the card to fit.”

“It took some finesse,” Ellie grinned.

“She used a hammer,” Lou rolled her eyes, “it messed up some of the basic interaction parts of his personality matrix. If you don’t tell him that he can forgo the formal greeting with you, that’s how he will greet you every time.”

“How do I do that?” Dean frowned.

“Just tell him,” Lou smiled, “now that the three of you have profiles with him, he will respond to you like he does us.”

“Mostly,” Ellie zipped her bag up, “you only have blue level clearance, so you can’t alter anything outside of your personal interaction specifications.”

“That’s okay,” Sam gave her a half smile, “thank you for everything you guys have done for us.”

“People look out for people out here,” Lou zipped her bag up as well, “it’s the right thing to do.”

“Yeah, but you have shared your food, kept us alive, and now you’ve invited us into your home,” Sam walked over to Ellie and took her hand in his, “seriously, thank you.”

“Oh,” Ellie’s cheeks turned red, “like Lou said,” she pulled her hand from his and quickly made her way across the room to where Lou stood, “it’s the right thing to do.”

“We will go make dinner,” Lou took Ellie’s arm in her own, “you three make yourselves at home. The whole floor is ours, with a few exceptions.”

“Basically,” Ellie grinned, “if a door doesn’t open, it’s not meant to.”

The two girls turned and disappeared through the door way.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Dean rubbed his temples, “does anyone else understand any of what we have been through today?”

Castiel shrugged, “I must admit, I have a hard time keeping up with what is going on with humans most of the time anyway.”

“You are a human now, Cas,” Dean frowned, “no more of this, ‘I am not this,’ and ‘you humans’ crap, alright?”

The angel nodded.

“What about you Sammy?” Dean held his arms out, “are you managing to understand all of this?”

Sam also shrugged, “I don’t really understand most of it, but that’s how most of our lives have been Dean, always surrounded by things we don’t really understand.”

“No,” Dean pointed firmly at Sam’s chest, “I understand vampires, and werewolves, and, and, and even demons. I understand demons, Sammy, but I don’t understand any of this…” he motioned to the room around them.

“It’s survival, Dean,” Sam made his way over to where Lou had laid her items out on the table, “pure and simple survival. I don’t understand a lot of the jargon, but I understand the struggle to stay alive. I can see it in their faces, and the faces of those people living in Diamond City…”

“Fenway Park,” Dean corrected him.

Sam sighed, “I recognize the fight to survive, I just figure the details we will pick up along the way.”

“You don’t think we can find a way home, do you?” Dean stared at his brother.

“Dean, look around,” Sam pointed to a dirty window, “there is nothing anymore. I don’t even know if any of the supernatural things we are used to hunting are still around. I don’t see a way home… all I see now is survival, which like I said before, isn’t that different from how we lived back home.”

“Unbelievable,” Dean shook his head, “Cas, are you buying this?”

“It does seem as though a way home is impossible,” Castiel looked at the items Lou had laid out, his fingers lightly touching each item, “even as a human I should be able to sense any angels around, and I haven’t felt anything.”

“Come on,” Sam patted Dean’s shoulder, “let’s look around, see if we can find anything we can make sense of.”

Dean turned around to follow his brother before pausing at the table the other two had been standing next to. The items on the table looked all too familiar, the countless amounts and kinds of ammo, the barrage of weapons, and the non-perishable foods. Perhaps Sam was more right than he cared to admit, survival had always been a large part of their lives.

“I am sorry we don’t have enough sleeping bags,” Lou unrolled the spare rolled up sleeping bag, “we really only anticipated it being a backup for one of us. Honestly, we were lucky to have that spare mattress as well.”

“They will work just fine,” Sam smiled, “thank you.”

“Yes,” Castiel gave her a small smile as well, “thank you.”

“Alright nerds,” Ellie leaned on the doorway, the single lit lantern in her hand, “technically it’s lights out after dark, but we are making an exception for you. I would suggest getting it out as soon as you can manage though.”

“If you need light for anything though,” Lou joined her in the doorway, “the room with the double doors will have a fire going all night. There aren’t any windows in there so we are able to keep light going in it all night.”

“Noted,” Dean nodded at the two girls, “we really appreciate you guys.”

“Just know that we will put you to work,” Ellie grinned, “you three gotta earn your keep.”

“Lights out!” Bo yelled from down the hall, “if I can’t have lights on in my room to read my Silver Shroud comics, then you radroaches don’t get light in yours!”

Lou sighed, “see you in the morning.”

“Night,” Dean winked at her.

Once the girls were out of sight Sam shoved his brother. “No, Dean,” Sam glared at him, “just no.”

“What?” Dean shrugged.

“We live with them!” Sam whispered angrily, “the last thing we need is for you to mess around with one of them and get us all kicked out.”

“Or worse,” Cas sat down on the floor, “I think in the case of those girls, it would be worse than just getting kicked out.”

Sam pointed at Cas in agreement.

“Alright, alright,” Dean held his hands up in the air, “I hear ya, loud and clear.”

“Good,” Sam fiddled with the latch on his PipBoy, “now, how are we doing this with only two sleeping spots?”

“I will sleep on the ground,” Castiel rested his head in his hands, “I am not used to needing sleep, so I will not notice the difference between a bed and the floor.”

“Cas you’re still getting better,” Dean frowned, “you shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor.”

“I am fine,” Castiel wadded up one of the blankets Lou had given them and rested his head on it as he lay down, “you both carried bags today, you should rest.”

Sam sighed, “if you start to get too uncomfortable, wake us up, alright?”

“Okay,” Dean sat on the sleeping bag, “but tomorrow night you get the mattress.”

Castiel nodded.

“Better put this light out before Miss Tightwad comes after us,” Dean leaned forward and turned the handle on the lantern until the flame was snuffed out.

Castiel rolled over on the hard floor, he didn’t want to admit it, but his chest still hurt. He was having trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the dark had settled into the room, but it was long enough for Dean to start snoring.

He sighed as he pushed himself up from the floor. Moving as silently as he could, he made his way out of the room and followed the faint glow coming from down the hall. The doors to the large room had been sealed as best as they could be, an attempt to keep in as much light as possible. Castiel hesitated before pushing the doors open. He didn’t know how late it was, and he didn’t want to bother anyone who was using the lit room for something.

Instead of opening the doors he turned and headed further down the long hallway, making his way back to the room where the elevator had been located. As he rounded the corner his eyes caught sight of a person sitting in the window closest to the elevator. He froze, startled at first, but then he recognized the color of Lou’s hair.

She was sitting in the window sill, a leg hanging out the opening where glass used to be, her body turned mostly away from him, a shoulder leaning against the frame of the window. The heavy jacket and leather pants she had been wearing through the day had been replaced with a simple white sleeveless shirt and some shorts. Her hair that had been pulled up and stuffed under a helmet was in a loose braid that hung down her back. The moonlight was getting caught in the loose hair around her head, creating a halo.

Castiel took a step backwards, trying to back up without being detected.

Lou’s head whipped around, her eyes catching his, and for a moment he could see tears.

“Hey you,” she smiled, the sadness he had witnessed a moment before disappearing, “what’re you doing up?”

“I, uh…” the angel tried to return her smile, “I can’t sleep.”

“Me either,” she motioned for him to join her, “come over here and look at the stars with me.”

Castiel crossed the room and stood next to the window.

“Sometimes when the world seems too terrible, I like to look at the stars,” she looked up at the clear night sky, “they remind me that before the war there were people looking up at those very same stars.”

“Actually, most of the stars you are seeing died a long time ago,” Castiel looked up at the sky as well.

She laughed softly, “you’re a strange one, aren’t you?”

“I have been told that, yes,” his eyes lingered on the sky, where his home used to be.

“Well, it’s alright if they’re all dead even,” she sighed, “that’s almost more comforting.”

“How so?” his eyes left the sky and looked at the woman sitting next to him.

“It makes it seem more normal that I can still see all the people I love that have died when I close my eyes,” her gaze seemed lost in the sky.

He stared at her. She was smiling, but there was deep pain buried in her expression. He suddenly felt as though he was glimpsing a part of her he wasn’t meant to see and forced his eyes from her face, they settled on a scar that was coming out from under her shirt. It was like a welt, a deeper color than the rest of her skin, it stretched over her shoulder blade and arched up towards her shoulder.

“You have scars,” he mused, wishing he had the power to heal it for her.

“What?” she looked at his face, and realized he was looking at her shoulder, “oh, yeah.” Her fingers reached up and ran over the smooth surface of the damaged skin, “we all have scars here, some are just more obvious than others.”

“It’s hard living here, isn’t it?” Castiel looked back out the window, “I had no idea a war would make the world look like this.”

“War is a terrible thing,” Lou stared at him, “but you would know that, wouldn’t you, soldier?”

Castiel’s eyes met hers, “how did you know that I was a soldier?”

“It’s etched into your face,” she smiled softly, “my father was a soldier before he met my mom, he had the look too.”

“Where is he now?” his eyebrows knitted together.

“He died when I was nineteen,” her smile faded, “raiders came through our area and killed everyone on our farm.”

“But you survived,” Castiel sat on the edge of the windowsill next to her.

“I was gone when they came through,” she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, “I’m the only one from my family left.”

“There was a time when I thought I had no family. I felt they had turned away from me,” he smiled, “but a wise man once said, ‘family don’t end in blood.’ It might not be any of my business, but while those two girls don’t look like blood, they sure do look like your sisters.”

She returned his smile, “you’re right.” She released her legs and let them dangle over the edge of the windowsill, “even though you’re a bit odd… you’re a good guy.”

A moment passed between the two of them before Lou’s eyes suddenly tore away from his.

“I…” she was flushed, “I’m sorry, I…” she stood up and wrapped her arms around herself, “I shouldn’t be here, not with…” she paused when her eyes met his again, “with you.” She began to back away, “it’s not you, please don’t think it’s you… I just…” she turned away from him, “it’s me, I just shouldn’t be here.”

Before Castiel could stop her she hurried from the room.

Lou closed the door to her room behind herself as quietly as she could. The moonlight coming in through the boards nailed over the window on the far side of her room gave everything a beautiful blue haze. She wrapped her arms around herself.

“What are you doing, Louise?” she whispered to herself, “you know better.”

The sting of tears filled her eyes as they welled up and spilled down her cheeks.

“You know better!” she scolded herself.

She let her body slide down the door until she was sitting on the concrete surface. Her fingers wrapped around the silver locket that hung around her neck, her thumb running over the etching on the front.

“I am so sorry baby,” she breathed, “I am so, so sorry.”

@iwantthedean, @goldenangelbloodcastiel

[crazililwabbit]

Jack and Princess, nuff said.

Reblog if you want anons to tell you who they ship you with and why.

Celebrities, other tumblr users, anyone..

[crazililwabbit]

That scowl does something to my heart. <3

[crazililwabbit]

Whisper Softly - A Plume Fic

This fic is based on a wonderful, amazing comic that is my current obsession! 'Plume' by the awesomely talented K Lynn Smith! See more at the comic's webpage, plumecomic.com!

The title comes from the song, 'Whisper Softly' by Chasing Furies.

You can find my fanfic master list here.

“Vesper is a rebellious spit-fire, and Corrick is her reluctant guardian. When their arranged partnership begins to turn into something more, they both discover how deep their bond goes.” 

Vesper/Corrick, who both belong to K Lynn Smith.

It had been so long since they had taken a day and just, rested.

Vesper's mind had been so consumed with finding the man who killed her father that she had barely stopped moving since that terrible night.

Not that Corrick was tired, he was never tired. He had forgotten what tired felt like a long time ago.

It was a warm spring afternoon, and they had decided to take a day and stay in the small town they had rented a room in.

He was doing his best to keep an eye on Tegan who was shamelessly flirting with a man across the street. He sighed and shook his head, she would get herself into trouble one day. Vesper was reckless, too reckless most of the time, but at least he didn't have to worry about her encouraging the advancements of thoughtless men.

He had begun to drift away into his thoughts, his mind becoming lost in the sway of someone lost in time. Living for so long had its down sides, he had too much time to think and those thoughts had slowly piled up, creating a sea that could take hold of him and pull him away to float forever. A ping of warmth in his chest pulled his thoughts back to the present. The warmth spread quickly across his chest and down his arms. His hand reached up and gripped his shirt, trying to physically take hold of something inside him. Something was wrong.

Looking up, his eyes fell on Tegan, still flirting, she hadn't moved. He turned to call to Vesper who was only a few feet to his right, perusing a table of books the general store had set out for sale. The warmth turned to heated tightness when he saw her face. Her eyes were downcast, trailing over the covers of the various volumes, her lips slightly parted as she silently read each title, and her fingertips slowly trailing circles over the surface of the golden pendant that was strung around her neck.

The heat traveled up his neck and into his face and the tightness in his chest clamped down harder. He continued to watch her fingers absentmindedly trail over and over the pendant's surface. The weight of the heat in his chest was making it hard for him to breathe, and he wondered if he could die from what was happening.

"Ve…" his voice was soft, his lungs were unable to let go of the air needed to call to her. He jerked forward slightly, bumping the table, "Ves… per."

Her eyes slowly moved to his, and the moment seemed to freeze.

Another part of living so far beyond your intended lifespan is that time begins to move differently, almost as if it speeds up, the seasons rushing by and with them each year, one after another until whole centuries lie behind you. But not this bit of time, it seemed to slow to a crawl, and the heartbeat in which it took Vesper to realize there was something wrong stretched out like an eternity.

Her fingers released the pendant as her hand raised to steady him, and as quickly as it had come, the heat and tightness in his chest faded.

"You okay, Corrick?" She took a step closer to him, "you're flushed, is something wrong?"

"I…" his lungs pulled in fresh air, "I don't know."

"Maybe we should get back to the room," she looked around, trying to locate Tegan.

"That might be best," he was still feeling dizzy, "I don't know how well I can protect you while I'm like this."

"Would you think about yourself for once?" she frowned at him, "come on, idiot." She slipped her hand under his arm, giving him a little support as they headed down the wooden walk way back towards the inn.

"Hey!" a voice called behind them, "hey wait up!" Tegan ran across the street and joined them. "Were you two going to try and sneak back to the room without me?" she raised a knowing eyebrow at the pair.

Now Vesper's face flushed. "No!" she stuck her chin out, "there's something going on with Corrick and he needs to go back to the room and rest."

"Rest, huh?" Tegan eyed the man, "he looks just fine to me."

"He was flushed, and sounded like he couldn't breathe," Vesper looked at his face, not believing Tegan's analysis.

"And besides that, when was the last time ol' tight ass here needed to rest?" Tegan jerked a thumb at Corrick, "I think you two were trying to ditch me."

The two girls continued to argue as the trio walked back to their room, Corrick only stared straight ahead, his thoughts on the pendant, and the fingers that had been tracing circles on it.

Vesper stared out the window to the street below. It was quiet, so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She sighed and closed her eyes, fighting back the pressure that was building behind them.

"Catch you around, Grey," Dom's voice echoed in her head. Those same words that had haunted her dreams for months now.

Catch you around, Grey.

Each word filled her heart with dread as in her mind she replayed Corrick walking away with Dom, over and over.

At first her dreams were much like reality. She would watch them walk away, while all she could do was sit on the ground in disbelief.

"But, w…" she stammered as she fought back the choking feeling in her chest, "wait."

They would only continue to leave, ignoring her pleas.

After the first month Vesper would get up the gumption to push herself up and try to run after them.

"But, w…" she would run with all her might, but no matter how much she tried, they still only turned and walked away from her, "wait!" Her lead filled legs were useless.

She would jerk awake, sweaty and filled with heartache. Why didn't she chase after them? Why didn't she try harder?

She clenched her teeth, fighting back a deep shame at letting Dom take Corrick from her. Her hands balled into tight fists as her shame and sadness began to morph into anger.

"I will find them," she muttered to herself, "and when I do…" her voice faded away as she watched the family consisting of a mother, father, and small boy walk down the street before turning into the post office.

Again, the quiet settled in around her, reminding her of the vast loneliness that Corrick's absence had left her with.

"Alright, we gotta pack up," Tegan swung into the room, "management won't give us another deal for the night."

She was a flurry around the room of words and packing.

"Y'know," her voice fell flat, realization that Vesper wasn't listening setting in, "like dance lessons."

"I just can't get used to it," Vesper wrapped her arms around herself.

"What?" Tegan's brow furrowed.

"The quiet," Vesper's voice was low, her thoughts still far away, "being alone in a room."

She had cried everything she had to cry, and had fallen asleep. Corrick lifted his arm and reached for her face, pausing a brief moment before allowing his fingertips to brush her bangs from her cheek. His touch lingered on the soft skin on the edge of her face.

He felt a familiar warmth in his chest, but it was different this time. It was soft, and grew slowly, like a gentle flame coming to life. He pulled his fingers from her skin and rested his palm against his chest, feeling the heat of his own skin through his shirt. The heat continued to slowly grow, spreading to his arms, up his neck and to his face.

His eyes searched her face. Underneath the dirt, the dried tear streaks, and the ever present sense of rebellion, there was something about Vesper Grey that called to him. Up until now he had felt tied to her through the necklace she wore, he felt an overwhelming, undeniable urge to protect her. There was no pendant now, nothing for him to be connected to her anymore, and yet he felt as though he could never pull away from her, his need to protect her was stronger than ever.

Again he reached for her, this time allowing his fingers to run lightly over her hair. She stirred in her sleep, her face contorting in pain and her hands gripping the blanket.

"But, w…" she mumbled in her sleep, the words faintly audible, "wait."

The tightness in his chest rushed in, holding his breath captive in his lungs. Those words, he would never forget those words. They were the words she had called softly to him as he had followed Dom away, leaving her alone in the dirt.

He wanted to shake her awake, to tell her that he was here and he had hated having to leave her alone and vulnerable. He wanted to hold her close and feel her beating heart against him, to remind himself that he was really here, he was able to touch her.

He settled for smoothing down her hair. She relaxed in her sleep, allowing some of the tightness in his chest to release.

He was so tired. He couldn't remember ever feeling this tired.

Shifting in the bed he laid down next to her and continued to look at her face. There was no more pendant, no more reason to feel as drawn to her as he was, but he knew that he needed to protect her in what was to come, even if it meant returning to what he was.

He leaned in so his face was inches from her, his lips hovering over her forehead. The smell of lilacs filled his nose.

"I am yours," he whispered softly, a confession and a promise.

Light pouring in from behind the curtains called Vesper from her sleep, the light sounds of birds preparing for the day pulled her from the restless dreams that filled her mind. With a groan she sat up in the bed.

She furrowed her brow, something was wrong. She was still fully dressed, and this wasn't the room she had paid for the day before.

A soft snore came from behind her on the bed.

Startled she spun around, her hand reaching for her hip where her revolver would be.

Her breath caught in her chest. Lying on the bed was Corrick, asleep.

Vesper could feel her cheeks burn with blush as the events of the night before began to return to her. They had finished drinks with Dom and Hunter, and tried to retire for the evening. As soon as the door to her room had closed behind her, the vastness of their loss creeped in and gripped her tight. She fled from what felt like a prison of loneliness and found herself in Corrick's room, weeping in his arms for the second time that day.

She relaxed, looking at his sleeping figure. This was the first time she had ever seen his face look so peaceful. She leaned back on the bed, feeling the weight of her sorrow settle in. She laid down and curled up as close as she could get to the sleeping man without disturbing him.

The warm residual scent of leather from his jacket, mingled with the natural smell of his own sweat helped her relax. Being with him felt so natural, and so safe. She reached out, letting her fingertips trail along his shirt and down his side. Despite everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours, she couldn't help but feel at ease with Corrick back beside her.

"I never told you before and I think you should know how safe you made me feel," she paused, her cheeks burning as her blush deepened, "I am at rest here, with you."

Corrick grunted softly and rolled onto his side, so that he was facing her. His eyes were still closed, but she could detect a faint smile on his lips.

"There's no way for anyone to take you from me anymore," she bit her bottom lip before whispering softly, "you are mine."

[crazililwabbit]

A single man tear.

2 in 1 Promo

At least one thing to look forward to.

[crazililwabbit]

A moment of silence for your loss. 🙏

PSA, save often

The power went out and I never saved my work. Cya later, couple hours worth of sketches! Remember to save often… I tempted the fates and lost. I’m going to go cry for a bit and get back to it once the power comes back on.

[crazililwabbit]

I have still considered making them in more detail and seeing if people would buy them...

#sellthebabbys

Found Baby Dean and Baby Sammy from my impala cosplay! Too cute, right? ❤

@iwantthedean

[crazililwabbit]

Found Baby Dean and Baby Sammy from my impala cosplay! Too cute, right? ❤ @iwantthedean

[crazililwabbit]

You and me dude, you and me.

I’ve got a lot of ideas brewing. But tonight is just totally escaping me, I just can’t seem to focus on one thing at a time. This is probably the best sketch of the night, so I figured I’d give it an upload.

//sigh

[crazililwabbit]

Eat You Alive - A Skyrim Fic

This story is part of the ‘Seal Upon Your Heart’ Series, find the timeline here.

You can find my fanfic master list here.

“Tala has been always been a wolf and always alone. Now she isn't sure what to think of this wolf she met in the forest, and he's not really sure what to think of her. What will happen when she is asked to give up the life she has always known for the man she loves?” Vilkas/OC

Rated M, for some adult themed content, violence and light drug use.

Chapter One - I’m Not The Only One

I could feel it rising under my skin, the call from Lord Hircine, the call of the hunt. I continued to climb the mountain, forced myself to keep moving despite the rising pain in my chest.

'Not here,' I kept telling myself, pushing myself forward, 'not yet.'

My breathing was cut short as my eyes caught a glimpse of Masser, in all it’s fullness. It had been hiding behind some clouds until now, helping me suppress my beast side. The moons didn’t control my shifts, but the primal connection between my beast and the two celestial bodies that hung in the sky was undeniable. My eyes were locked on the glowing sphere, bathing me in its light.

"Oh, Lord Hircine," I mumbled, "please, help me to control my beast. Please protect anyone I may come across tonight from my claws and fangs."

My breathing returned now, heavy and labored. I smiled. As much as I worried for those around me when I was the beast, I did love the hunt. The prickling under my skin grew stronger and I knew it was near. I crouched in the dirt to prepare myself. The smell of the fresh earth beneath me was wonderful. I loved being in the forest, surrounded by my true home. The sudden crack in my ribs took my by surprise and I cried out in pain.

I had once tried to think of a way to put into words how the change felt, but found myself at a loss. It was painful, but it was also one of the best feelings in the world. Like the soreness that comes after a good run, or a full day worth of manual labor. It felt right.

Breathing became harder and I had to force myself to keep inhaling and exhaling. The snapping in my bones continued and I stretched out my arms in front of me. They were twice as long as they had been only moments before. My hands contorted and bones between my knuckles grew, once they were done I balled them into fists, flexing the new muscles. The splintering feeling my shins grew and I knew they too, were elongating.

The prickling under my skin had grown into a burning as the black hair began to sprout from all over. I cried out in pain again as my incisors grew and cut into my mouth, but my cries quickly turned to a howl as my transformation quickened and overtook me. I raised myself off the ground and flexed my newly formed body that still hummed with the ecstasy of a shift. I sniffed the air and took in all the scents I couldn't before. My eyes glowed with the change as I looked back to Masser, the only one who knew my every secret and still returned to me every night.

I howled again, but this time in acknowledgment of my lifelong friend. 'This is for you, brotherI' I thought as I took off into the forest after the scent of an elk.

I ran, hunched down like a dog as I tore through the woods. The feeling of the wind on my face was wonderful, the scent of the scared elk I was hunting, exhilarating. The smell of fear always propelled me further and faster. Once I was within proximity I leaped, landing on my prey. The elk let out a cry before I tore it's throat out, killing it quickly. I raised my muzzle to Masser, howling. 'You see brother?' I called to the larger moon, 'do you see how I revel in the hunt?'

My victory was short lived, a rustling in the trees beyond the clearing I was in, had caught my attention. My ears pressed flat back against my head. I didn't like this. Most animals would have been far away from here by now.

Hunters perhaps? No, I couldn't smell any of the signs that someone was hunting me, no torches, no silver. I leaned down, preparing myself to run if needed when the scent hit me. It was another wolf. In all my years of running the forest, I had never come across another wolf. My lips curled back over my teeth, and I let a low growl rise from in my chest. I wasn't sure if I should stay and hold my ground or turn and run. Either way, I wanted this newcomer to know I wasn’t to be messed with.

He slowly crept out of the trees. His posture told me that he wasn't sure what to do either. His ears were laid back, but was it in submission, or aggression? I growled again, hoping for an answer. He continued to creep towards me but didn't return my warning. Something inside me recognized his lack of an answer as submission. I relaxed a little, trying to show him that I didn't want to fight if we didn't need to. I was curious. I had never met someone else like me, and this beast in front of me had forever changed that fact.

I tried to think of ways to communicate with him. He had continued to move towards me and had relaxed his posture, but his ears remained back. He was just on the other side of the elk when I thought of something. The only other one I talked to when I was a wolf was the Masser, and I howled to him. So again I lifted my face to the sky and howled. Dropping my head back down I realized he had sat down, his ears had perked forward and his head tilted to the side. He was recognizing my attempt to reach out to him. I decided to try again. I lifted my muzzle and let out a cry. I heard him do the same, and I couldn't help my wag my tail, something I had never done.

We sat there for a few minutes simply looking at each other. Finally, he broke the standoff and leaned over the elk. I lowered my head and allowed him to sniff me. I could feel his hot breath against my fur, it stirred something deep inside me. He whined, trying to get my attention. He lowered his head so I could sniff him in turn. Leaning in towards his neck I inhaled deeply. His scent confirmed by belief that he was a male, but underneath were undertones of steel, leather, and blood. The smell of blood sent a wave of panic through me. Without even giving it a second thought I reached out to him. When he startled and pulled back I gave his muzzle a quick lick, trying to convey my worry. I could see the shock in his eyes at my sudden affection, and I caught the sight of his tail wagging out of the corner of my eye. I reached out to him again, taking hold of his arm.

I scoured his whole body, looking for wounds. Circling around him, that was when I found it, a huge gash in his side. I sniffed it, trying to determine how old it was. He whined. Looking back to his face, I could see that it did pain him. Normally when injured our own saliva acts as a numbing agent to clean the wound until we can return to our original form in a safe place. The location of this but must have kept him from being able to clean it. I nuzzled him slightly, hoping that I was comforting him. I leaned down and licked his wound for him, trying to clean it best I could. Once I finished I sat down on the ground next to him, nuzzling him a bit more, waiting for the pain to subside. I could tell it was starting to work as he began to playfully push at me.

He yelped and hopped up, turning in a circle. I felt a bit childish, but I wanted to join him. I was enjoying spending time with him. I stood up and pushed him back playfully. He turned and trotted away, turning to look at me from about fifteen yards away, whining. His tail wagged as he turned and continued to trot away. I took off running and it didn't take me long to overtake him. I nipped at him as I ran past him, daring him to catch me. He growled playfully and began chasing me. I pushed myself forward, wanting to show him how fast I was, I wanted to impress my new found companion.

I raced up the side of the mountain and stopped once I reached the top. I sat down and waited. He caught up to me, panting. He playfully nipped at me and sat down next to me. I looked to Masser, allowing my tongue to roll out of my mouth as I gasped for air. I couldn't help myself, I raised my face once again to the moon and howled. My tail wagged as I heard him join me.

The sunlight was streaming through the trees and warming my naked body. I rolled over and stretched, feeling the soft bed of my own fur that I had shed during my change back a few hours earlier. I smiled, getting my first good look at my new friend.

He was still sleeping, so I took advantage of the opportunity to look him over without worrying about him seeing. He was a Nord, like me, but unlike me, he had dark hair. It was full of leaves and twigs at the moment, but I imagined it looked nice when it was washed and smoothed. His strong chin was covered in stubble. He was in very good shape like most men in Skyrim were, but he was lean, not bulky. His torso was scarred with what looked like sword wounds, this made my brow furrow. The only things that could leave scars on the body of a wolf were silver weapons, the scars meant he had been in fights with hunters. I couldn't help but blush slightly at catching sight of the dark hair that started at his navel. I knew it led to regions I shouldn't be seeing.

I smiled to myself, pleasantly happy with the body of my companion. I laid back down on the bed of fur and allowed the sun to continue to warm me. I could feel sleep coming to reclaim me when he began move against me.

He groaned as he rolled over.

"Morning," I smiled at him.

"Morning," he mumbled, his eyes still closed. They snapped open. "Morning!" he repeated, remembering the previous night, "did I stay out all night?"

"Yes," I continued to smile.

"By the nine!" he sat up, "what was I thinking?"

I sat up too, "I thought we had fun." I pulled my knees to my chest, a little hurt.

"Aye," he turned and looked in my eyes. "Aye," a smile spread across his face, "that we did Lass."

I stretched as I stood up, lifting my arms to the sky. A shiver ran through me as the coolness of the air wrapped around me.

I stood there staring at him. He had walked over to the edge of the small clearing we had slept in and was standing with his back to me, hands on his hips. I couldn't help but admire his backside, again, the view of him stirred something deep inside of me. I wanted to walk over to him and wrap my arms around his glorious body. I didn't even know his name, but I felt a connection to him that was stronger than any I had ever felt before.

"Well Lass." he turned to face me. "Where are yyyoooouuuu..." his voice trailed off as he got his first real look at me in my normal form. I was very petite for a Nord, not even five and a half feet tall. My blonde hair was long enough to reach my waist and was probably full of loose foliage. My eyes were large and round, with deep blue rings framing my pupils. My pale skin was unmarred, except for one thin, pale scar across my thigh, a faded memory was the only time I had ever come into contact with a hunter.

I began to feel rather self-conscience as he stood there and gaped at me. I wrapped one hand around the side and back of my neck, and rested the other across my breasts.

"You were saying," I glanced around, trying hard not to take notice of the changes that were taking place in his body.

"Oh, I uh..." he fumbled. "I wasn't expecting you to be naked. I mean, I know I am naked," he glanced down at himself and saw what I had been trying to avoid with my eyes. "Oh!" he crossed his arms and cupped his manhood in his hands, "I was just going to ask where you were headed now."

Red flushed his cheeks, and it made me melt to see how embarrassed he was. "It's okay," I dropped my arms and waved a hand in his direction, turning back around to face the other side of the clearing. I really was quite comfortable being naked, and even more so being naked in the forest. I spent most of my time that way. "I am headed back southeast, towards Ivarstead," I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to clear out the dead leaves and clumps of dirt.

"Oh," he dropped his arms back down to his sides, "I come from Whiterun." He turned and looked back over his shoulder.

"Whiterun?" I was surprised. "That's an awful ways away. What brought you this far from your normal hunting grounds?" I turned back to face him and continued to try and pry a rather persistent leaf out of my tangled hair.

"I was found by the Silver Hand," he walked towards me, "they chased me this far south." He held my struggling hand in his own. "Let me help you," he smiled as he toyed with my hair and I felt another shiver run through me. "They chased me almost all the way here."

I gasped. We were close to my home, they had come close to my home. I had never run into hunters in this area, and the idea of abandoning my hunting grounds sent panic through me. He must have seen the fear in my face because he quickly took my hands in his.

"Oh, Lass. It's alright. They aren’t from this area, and know that I am not either, there is no reason for them to come back here," he loosened one of my hands only to brush some of my hair from my face. "I was able to get away from them with only the injury you found last night. And as you have seen, it's mostly healed," he stretched his side so I could see the purple scar running down the length of his ribs.

I reached out and touched it. My fingers looked so small and pale compared to his tan, muscular torso. I ran them slowly down the extent of the scar.

"Oh, Lass," He breathed, his eyes closing.

"Tala," I whispered.

His eyes opened and looked into mine. "Vilkas," he whispered back.

"You have so many scars, Vilkas," I ran my other fingers down another scar on his chest. I couldn't help myself, I wanted to touch every one of them, kiss them and heal them.

"I am a warrior," he said laying his hand over mine, pressing it to his skin. I could feel his heartbeat beneath his chest. I smiled.

"I can see it," I returned my eyes to his, "I can see you in armor with a sword. It seems, right."

"Aye," he sighed, "feels right too. I was meant to be a fighter."

I let my fingers that were resting at his side fall.

"What about you? What do you do where you live?"

"Oh, nothing as exciting as you," I pulled my hand from his chest and walked back over to the makeshift bed. I sat down in the fur and reclined, allowing the sun to begin warming me again, "I simply work on a farm. You know, planting crops and tending to animals." I closed my eyes and turned my face to the sun.

"That is good, solid work," he sat down beside me, "honest work." He continued to look me over, I could tell he liked what he saw, and I reveled in that. His face changed when he noticed my scar. His rough fingers reached out to touch it.

"Where'd you get this?" his face was grim now, all lightheartedness gone.

"I was very young when I got that," I looked at it myself. "One of my first trips out in my wolf form. I happened across a hunter," I laid my hand over his and laced my fingers in his strong ones. "I startled him and he lashed out with the only thing he had, a silver dagger," his fingers tightened around mine, "it wasn't deep enough to kill me, but it hurt, worse than any pain I have ever felt. I almost didn't make it away. I panicked and I changed back into my natural form before he had even realized what had happened."

"And he let you live?" confusion flooded his face.

"I was a little girl, Vilkas, only about five summers. He saw that I was only a child and spared me," I smiled, remember the hunter’s kind eyes.

"By the Nine," Vilkas sat up and rested his head on his fists, "I can't believe someone would turn a child."

"I've been fine," I ran my palm over his shoulders, "I don't really even remember not being a wolf. Actually, I love being a wolf. I love the chase, the moons, the hunt."

He raised his head and looked back to me, "good, I would hate to think of someone who takes to being a wolf so beautifully not desiring it."

I felt my cheeks burn with blush this time. I bit my lip and looked away.

"Tala," he whispered my name and I could feel my whole body grow hot.

I looked back up to him and he was leaning in towards me.

"Ye... yes?" my voice came out husky, I had never felt like this before, my body was burning up and I loved it.

"I..." he cupped my face in his hand. "I feel..."

"Warm?" I breathed.

"Yes," His face was nearing mine, "I have never felt this way before."

"Me either," I couldn't break my eyes from his, "but I like it."

"Me too," he finished closing in on me and pressed his lips to mine. I reached up and tangled my fingers in his hair. I shifted my weight so I could return his kiss, and use both my hands to hold him close to me. We broke for air and I looked into his eyes, his wonderful gray-blue eyes. I heard him growl quietly and he pressed into me again, both hands holding my face now.

He lowered me back down on the soft fur and laid down next to me, his lips never leaving mine. My hands had begun to wander across his broad shoulders and down his chest. His, in turn, moved down my body as well, first running along my collarbone, sending a shudder through me.

I moaned.

He growled again, pleased with my reaction. His fingers lightly trailed down over my breasts and across my smooth stomach. They came to the edge of my womanhood and paused there.

I reached out and grabbed his wrist when he began to venture further.

"Vilkas, I..." I looked into his face again, "I can't."

[crazililwabbit]

This is all of my heart. <3

It was with a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder that Chuck watched his son die for the first time. Watched as the archangel shredded Cas under the weight and pull of angelic power. It was messy. It was callous.

Chuck wiped his blood-covered hands on his jeans, feeling the way the slick met rough—what was left of his son smeared on the denim.

Dean had come and gone and Chuck was left, sitting in the red-painted house, knowing that somewhere, his firstborn son was breaking free. Going to end the world.

Chuck sighed, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter and taking a deep swig. He could still see the glow in Castiel’s eyes. Not from grace, but from something perhaps more pure. Like a memory of the light once used to create the earth and all the creatures that inhabited it. The light that Chuck had given his creations straight from his own fingertips.

Cas, you beautiful idiot, he had thought as the room shook and he watched his son hold his ground, his last breaths rooted in a pearl of hope for the Earth. Hope placed in the small hands of two forgettable hunters fighting against the rising powers of hell.

The brave sacrifice of the brown-haired, blue eyed angel who died to save the world would likely never be told, but still, Chuck couldn’t help but think that it was the stuff that stories were made of.

It was quiet now, in the kitchen with the reminder of Cas, the man who’d ripped up the pages of destiny and spat in the face of fate. The man who’d scoured the earth in search for God with nothing but a second-hand pendant and a desire to protect.

Chuck closed his eyes, tightly. A desire to protect, he thought, his mind drifting back to the sense of wonder he’d felt when he’d first created his angels.

He sat down and poured a little drink on the floor in tribute before squeezing the bottle between his knees. And he tried not to remember that he had the power to protect, too. To protect the world from the impending apocalypse. To protect Castiel.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t. It was a promise he’d made a long time ago when, in an effort to “save,” he’d purged the earth with water. What surprised him, however, was how men continued to preach in his name, building philosophies and stamping them with heaven’s seal without care to God’s sanctions.

“Maybe my children make better Gods than me,” Chuck considered, finding himself again drawn to the two young brothers that, even now, were facing Michael and Lucifer when even their own God couldn’t.Dean and Sam were better men than their father, Chuck thought, and Cas was a better man than me.

Chuck stared at the way the room wore bits of Cas and wondered at the feelings of sentiment he felt. True, Chuck knew all of his angels, but he couldn’t find it in himself to understand why he felt the world was smaller now in the space since he’d watched Castiel die. After all, it was simply the natural order of things. He created angels like shooting stars: fiery, fierce and beautiful. And, like the meteoroids plowing through the sky, Cas had come too close to the earth, burning up inside the atmosphere.

Once, Chuck had commanded the angels to love the humans. The angels had become volatile, hardened creatures, made for duty with no one to serve. Statues of rigid perfection.

Chuck looked down at his own hands, letting his mind wander through the intricate designs of the human vessel he’d created for himself. Human flesh was so different than the fierce ether of an angel. He’d created them with the heads of beasts and great spanning wings. They were formidable, truly, they were. And yet, Chuck knew, even then, when he’d first birthed them, that humans were his most beautiful creation. They were breakable, small, and beautifully flawed. And, he’d known then, too, that he’d created mankind to save them all. To save the angels. To save himself.

It was his own last beacon of hope, that perhaps they could all become something more than the patterns of war and violence that had emanated from him and poured into his creations.

Chuck smiled as he looked at the Supernatural books, knowing he had found it. His broken children who had become more than their God, willing to die for the sake of the planet.

They had transcended him. He always knew they would. But, what had surprised him was the angel in the dirty trench coat and blue eyes, falling away from heaven’s glory for one man. One human. An angel that had such faith in and love for humanity that he’d given up everything.

Chuck bowed his head to his chest. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t get involved. And yet, he could still hear Castiel’s prayers in the back of his head—months of the angel’s voice crying for an absent God to step in and save his children.

And Chuck knew what he had to do. Though it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things—a small gesture, really. But significant nonetheless.

Slowly, he leaned down to the floor, touching a spot of red with his finger. He watched as the bits of Cas responded, finding their way back to the whole. It was a fascinating process, to see the parts of Cas’s vessel come together, gathering, binding, creating arms, legs, a face. Until, suddenly, he was staring at the calm features of Cas’s body, laying down with his eyes closed, as if he could be asleep.

Then, with a breath, Chuck pulled light from the skies, infusing grace and soul and power to recreate Castiel’s true form, creating a sacred space inside the simple kitchen of Chuck’s home. It felt wrong, in a way, to bring so much of his God self back to the place where he had gone to leave it all behind. And yet, it also felt right. To put something back together again after such a long time of watching things fall apart.

And, finally, it was done as he gingerly placed Castiel back inside the man laying on the ground. He watched as the vessel’s chest hitched with the first breath of life, and smiled when he looked at the body he’d created just for Cas. For the angel who wanted so badly to love humans. In a way, now he could be one. He thought Cas would like that he’d made him look like Jimmy. That maybe he’d find it easier if he could look in the mirror and see the man whose face had first chosen to be so autonomous and free from heaven.

Cas’s eyes were still closed, and Chuck knew he couldn’t let him wake up here. He couldn’t face his son. Not now. Still, he was surprised to find himself kneeling on the floor of the kitchen, running his hands through the soft parts of Castiel’s hair, his thoughts, surprisingly far away from the ending of the rest of the world. Instead, he placed a kiss on top of Cas’s head, sending him to a beautiful forest, by a stream to wake up.

And then the kitchen was empty again, the clock on the wall ticking loudly, and the stain from the spilled alcohol shining on the floor.

Chuck contemplated what he’d done. Wondered at his own need to break every rule that had bound him for centuries and heal one lowly angel when he’d let hundreds of others die.

But, he thought he already knew the answer. Where Chuck had made humans in a deliberate effort at salvation, one lowly angel had been a surprise. A miracle. And, as Chuck sat back in his chair, he smiled as he admitted it to himself: it turned out that maybe it wasn’t just the humans that were there to save. It turned out that maybe, just maybe, a forgettable, self-sacrificing angel with blue eyes and too much heart could be the one to redeem them all.

[crazililwabbit]

Dude. He is tired like all of us.

Hey look, it’s my OC! Hooray. Like me, he’s tired. Really tired. I’d hazard to guess he’s probably about to fall asleep. Like me.

G’night. <3

[crazililwabbit]

You are too sweet! <3

reply with 5 things that make you happy + send this to the last 10 people in your notes!💕

How about five users who make me happy? Ah, this is going to be a tough list, but rest-assured, there are MANY of you out there who make me happy! These are the ones I talk to more often lately. 

@ashleymalfoy (don’t act so surprised)

@ellen-reincarnated1967 

@atc74

@crazililwabbit

@apurdyfulmind

[crazililwabbit]

Until The Daybreak - A Skyrim Fic

This story is part of the ‘Seal Upon Your Heart’ Series, find the timeline here.

You can find my fanfic master list here.

“Dyre is new in Skyrim, and is ready to start her new life. But she is having to learn that sometimes for something new to grow you need to burn what was there before.” Farkas/OC Dovahkiin

Rated M, for some adult themed content, and drug use.

Chapter One - And Shadows Do Flee

It was dark outside by the time I left Dragonsreach and the temperatures had dropped immensely. All I had was the armor I had managed to pull off a dead body at Helgen, and it wasn't doing much to block the ice cold wind. I made it down the steps, back to the circular walk.

I glanced at the Inn the guard had pointed me to earlier and reached for my coin purse. It was light, too light. I wouldn't have enough for a room.

'I won't make it a night out here on my own,' I frowned. 'It's too cold.'

I smiled at the guard that was passing me, trying not to shiver to violently. Watching him walk away I caught out of the corner of my eye the light in the windows of Jarrvaskr.

'Maybe they'll let me do some work in trade for a room for the night,' I mused and began heading towards the large building.

'What if they don't remember me,' my worry began to nag at the back of my mind. The idea of being scoffed at was more than I could bear. I was too proud for that, I would have taken my chances at living through the night outside before I would take being laughed at.

But my feet didn't feel the same way as me, and I was already at the large, ornately carved door. I felt the roughness of the wood beneath my fingers. I hadn't felt this small and ashamed since I was little when I would wait at the back door of the Argonian woman's home for the food her children didn't eat.

I leaned all my weight against the door and felt it give way. It creaked as it opened and the warmth from the large fire pit in the middle of the main room rolled over me. My skin felt as though it was on fire, I hadn't realized how cold I had gotten.

There were tables set up around the fire pit and the food that is being prepared smelled wonderful. My stomach growled and my shame deepens. As fit as I was to care for myself in the lush forests of Cyrodiil I was helpless in this foreign land. I had learned on my walk here that my bow and arrows were no match for the looming elk that made the best meals out here. It was like being stung by a bee for them. I hadn't eaten since the food Gerdur had graciously given me in Riverwood.

I was taken aback for a moment by the brightness of the fire that burned in the center of the mead hall, and I had let go of the door, which closed with a loud thud. Embarrassed, I glanced around to see if anyone had taken notice of my entrance. I quickly realized that no one was even looking at me, they were all looking at the commotion taking place further into the hall. I took a step further into the room and craned my neck to see what fascinated so many people.

I could hear the fight before I could see it.

"You're pathetic!" I heard a woman yell.

"Keep it up, you'll wear him out!" the man on my right calls out in reply.

The intense fist fight looked like it had been going on for awhile and like it wasn't stopping anytime soon. The dark elf seemed to be taking most of the blows, but when he managed to land one on the Nord woman they were sound and heavy. I was fascinated by how they moved, it seemed almost like a dance. One would move, and the other would match the movement. The woman seemed to effortlessly dodge most of the elf's attacks and in the same move would put so much power into her blows.

The elf cried out as he fell to the ground. "I yield!" he shouted, raising an arm.

I was shocked to hear the Nord woman laughing. "Good job Athis," she reached down a hand to help him up, "you lasted much longer that time."

"I thought I almost had you," he took her hand and hoisted himself up.

She laughed even harder, "right, Athis. It's me."

"Who are you?" the man standing next me had turned and was staring at me.

"I, uh..." he had caught me off guard, I didn't know what to say. 'Hello, I am a pathetic excuse for a Nord who can't survive outside for a night and has no money. Can I stay here?' thinking it made my thoughts from earlier of staying here for a night almost comical.

"Hey," a familiar voice called, "I remember you." I turned to see the man I had met earlier that day, outside of the hold.

"Oh, Farkas," the man turned his attention away from me, "do you know this whelp?"

"Sort of," he scratched his head, "she was near where we killed that giant today. I told her to stop by."

The older man, who was much taller than the man I already knew, sighed, "Farkas, you can't keep inviting just anyone to come to Jarrvaskr."

"Sorry Skjor," he mumbled.

"But," he looked at me again his single blind eye boring into my soul, "she looks strong. Take her down to see Kodlak."

"Alright," Farkas looked at me and smiled, "follow me."

I followed him silently through the hall, trying not to make eye contact with too many of the residents. People made me so uneasy, I was much more at home in a tree, talking to the birds and foxes. He led me down into the sleeping halls and past what seemed like designated rooms. The stone hall was long and ended with a room that had two men sitting in it.

"My brother Vilkas is a better talker than me," Farkas smiled, "he's right in there with Kodlak. Go on in."

I stood there and watched him walk away. I felt abandoned, left alone in a world I didn't know or understand.

"Vilkas, a moment please," the old man at the table interrupted the younger one, "a stranger has come to our hall." He turned and looked at me, a warm smile on his face, "come in Lass, please come in." He motioned for me to enter.

"I, I didn't mean to interrupt," I looked at the younger man. He did look a lot like Farkas, eerily much so. But cleaner, he didn't have a beard and his hair was trimmed shorter and tucked behind his ears. "I am sorry," I mumbled as he just stared at me, a blatant look of disapproval on his face. Surely this hard, mean looking man wasn’t related to the kindhearted man I had met.

"What can I do for you Lass?" the older man smiled.

"I was told to stop by, that perhaps I could join your group here," I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag.

"Oh, were you now?" he sat back in his chair and stroked his beard, "well, let me take a look at you."

I wasn't sure what he meant. I was standing right in front of me, hadn't he been looking at me? He stared at me. His eyes were much older than he seemed to be, they seemed to see through me as if he knew my whole life's story, all my most honorable moments, and my darkest secrets. He was beginning to make me uncomfortable, I felt like I was squirming in my own skin.

"Yes," He sat forward in his chair, his eyes still burning into me, "a certain strength of spirit."

"Kodlak," the hard man stood, "surely you don't mean to accept her?"

"Vilkas, we have many empty beds here that need to be filled with shield-siblings who's hearts are full of fire," he chastised the younger man.

"Of course," he took a step towards me. It felt threatening like he was testing me, "but their skills matter too."

"Of course," Kodlak sighed and sat back in his chair, "of course. In the morning you can take her to the yard and test her. You will train her if she needs improvement."

"Aye," Vilkas relented. He glared as he shoved past me.

"Forgive him, Lass," the old man stood now, "he is a good man. Just hesitant to trust strangers. He has a strong heart and will be the best to teach you." His smile warmed me somewhere inside my chest that felt as if it had never been warmed. It filled me from the inside out, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you, Sir."

"What's your name Lass?" he rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Dyre."

"Welcome," he lead me out to the hall.

"Now," he placed his hand on my shoulder, "let's find you a bed."

I could still hear my mother telling me about the mountains and the crispness of the air like she did when I was little. She would curse my father for dragging her from her home in Ivarstead to the city of Leyawiin in Cyrodiil. He died shortly after I was born, leaving us with very little money. My mother had always wanted to return to Skyrim, but she was too poor and too ill. She followed my father to Sovngarde when I was only four years old. The Argonian who lived next door to us always made sure I didn't starve to death while I was too young to fend for myself, but she could never be bothered far enough to bring a Nord child into her home.

I grew up outside for the most part. Learning to live on my own, and selling the few animals I was able to spare from my hunting for a few coins now and then. When I got old enough I learned that as a woman I had other things I could sell, and I could make good money with myself. My tall, muscular build, green eyes, red-blonde hair and ivory skin helped me stand out among the other women in southern Cyrodiil. So I sold myself. I didn't mind it so much. I could run free during the day, I was tied to nothing and no one. Especially not a man.

During the nights I belonged to them, the obese, smelly, pathetic men and I hated them for it. They were disgusting. I would remind myself all night that the days were coming. I could always rely on that sun to crest over the horizon and my freedom would find me again. I would run through the forests, bathe in the rivers and lakes. I knew the land and the animals, and it knew me. Every night before I would return to the town I would hide my money in a tree along with the ribbon my mother use to tie in my hair when I was young. She had to be kept separate from my nights, she was pure and strong and my nights were twisted and contemptible. I would hold it in my hand and marvel at the blue it was, like ice.

"Just like the skies in my homeland," she would say as she weaved it in my hair.

"I'm sorry Momma," I would whisper to it with a kiss before tucking it in with my gold.

That night was particularly bad. I had been with this man before. He was a traveling merchant and would have me visit when he stopped in Leyawiin. He was rather self-serving in the act and tended to sweat profusely. He had fallen asleep quite some time ago and I was drifting off to sleep myself.

"Dyre," I hear a woman's voice call me, "Dyre, little one."

"Momma?" I whispered, confused, "Momma, is that you?"

"Go home," she whispered back, "go home my child."

"I don't understand..." I sat up in the bed, "Momma, I am home."

"Be free. Go home."

I was beginning to panic. I stood up and quickly gathered my light hide armor, quiver, and bow. I glanced around the room and saw the merchant’s coin purse sitting on the dresser. I snatched it and bolted out the door, silently. The Innkeeper looked at me knowingly from behind the counter. I was in here too often for her to not know what I did, but tonight I didn't care. I didn't stop running until I made it back to the tree where I had stashed my belongings.

I found a good spot near the top of the tree that I wouldn't roll out of if I fell asleep and settled in for the night. The next thing I knew it was morning. The sunlight was turning the inside of my eyelids red. I dropped out of the tree and made my way to the nearby stream, where I knelt and washed my face. I stared at my reflection for a bit in the stream and was amazed at how much I looked like my mother. I sat down and pulled the blue ribbon out of my satchel.

Pulling all my hair to one side I braided the ribbon into my hair just like my mother used to. I stood and breathed in the dewy air.

"Alright Momma," I hoped she could hear me in Sovengarde, "I'll go home."

The sun still hadn't risen over the horizon when I woke from the dream that was part memory, and part nightmare. Between the unfamiliar surroundings and the howling coming from the wolves that lived beyond the walls of Whiterun, I hadn't slept well. I was just ready to get the day started. I silently slipped up the stairs from the living quarters to the main hall. The fire was still going strong and the smell of food still saturated the air. I closed my eyes and filled my nose with the sweet smell of confections and meat. My stomach snarled at me, I still hadn't eaten since the morning of the day before.

I tried to move through the hall as quietly as I could, I was hoping to be able to slip out and save myself the embarrassment of being seen the morning after being taken in like a lost dog.

"I haven't seen you before, dear," the voice of an old woman startled me. "You must be the new recruit Kodlak mentioned."

I turned around and tried to regain control of my pounding heart. "Err... yes," I managed to return her smile.

"Well child, I am Tilma. I have cared for the Companions for probably longer than you have been alive," she patted my shoulder. "Would you mind helping me get the platters of food for the morning meal? I do have trouble carrying them in my old age."

"Of course," I had wanted to sneak away, but I couldn't tell this lovely woman no.

"Thank you," she walked over a table in the corner. "I managed to fit them all on two platters this morning."

The platters she was talking about were about three feet long and two feet wide. "That's a lot of food,” my eyes were wide at the small mountains of food piled on the platters.

She laughed, "need to keep warriors good and full, so they don't feel like they need to go eat elsewhere."

I nodded, but I didn't understand, what was wrong with them wanting to go get some food at the local Inn? I picked up the platter filled with sweet rolls and some other amazing looking confection. I walked it over to the long tables that wrapped around the fire and tried to place it as close to the center as I could.

"What are these?" I asked pointing to the cakes with cream coming out of the top, they looked delicious.

"Oh, those are boiled cream treats. My specialty," she winked at me. "Go ahead, have one."

"Oh, I couldn't," I shook my head, "I don't actually live here."

"Nonsense," she waved her hand at me, "have one. You earned it, helping me."

My stomach growled again, and I blushed, "okay." I picked up one of the cakes. It began to fall apart in my hand and the sugar-coating cracked. I quickly ate the piece that was falling off.

"Mmmm..." I couldn't help but moan as the treat melted in my mouth. The custard-like filling was creamy and sweet. I had never had something so wonderful. Before I could stop myself I had sunk into one of the chairs by the table. I was so absorbed in my treat I hadn't noticed the waking warriors.

"Who is that?" one woman whispered to another.

"I don't know, but she looks..." they stared at me, "odd."

I froze where I was sitting, the boiled cream treat half in my mouth, my cheeks full of food. I tried my best to smile at them, but I imagine I looked like a small child with her mouth stuffed full of something she wasn't supposed to be eating.

They burst into laughter.

I could feel my cheeks turning red as the heat from embarrassment rushed to my face. I placed the treat on the plate in front of me on the table and tried my best to clean my face off.

'Just get up and leave.' I scolded myself, 'it’s not worth the humiliation.'

"Morning," a familiar voice mumbled.

I looked up to see Farkas, half awake and looking down at me. His face was curved into a half-smile as he sat down next to me, and I could feel the red in my cheeks deepen. He was only half-dressed with a pair of loose-fitting pants on and not much else.

"I take it Kodlak let you stay," he continued to smile as he piled meat and bread onto his plate.

I nodded. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I had expected to make it out of here before anyone saw me, let alone talked to me. Social situations were more than uncomfortable for me, they were painful. I had always been the dirty Nord girl no one wanted to associate with. Nervously, I tried to find something to do with my hands, in an attempt to keep them from shaking. They made their way to my hair, which I pulled to the side and tried to braid. I pulled the blue ribbon I always carried with me from the spot where I tucked it next to my hip and secured the bottom.

"That's pretty," Farkas pointed to the braid, "none of the women here ever put anything pretty in their hair." He took a bite of the venison he was holding.

"Thank you," I tried to steady my voice, "it was something my mother gave me."

"That makes it prettier," he smiled.

I smiled back, and we sat in silence around the large tables while everyone slowly gathered and ate their morning meal. I avoided eye contact with most of the people at the table and most of all I avoided looking even slightly towards Vilkas. I still couldn't believe these two were brothers. I glanced over at Farkas to see him still smiling while he ate his food. I hadn't dared to look at Vilkas since he rose from the lower level of the hall, but I remembered his face. It was dark and full of anger. The anger etched into him had reached out from his very person and touched me. I didn't want him to test me outside like Kodlak had said, and I certainly didn't want to spend time with him for training.

"Are you going to eat that?" Farkas asked, pulling me from the rising panic in my chest. "You haven't eaten anything while we've been sitting here."

"I'm not very hungry," I mumbled, as my stomach growled, betraying me.

Farkas laughed. It was a hearty, full laugh that filled the whole hall. "Eat it," he beamed at me.

I smiled. I couldn't help but smile with how he was smiling at me. "Okay," I reached for my half-eaten treat. My stomach thanked me as I finished it and two more before Farkas rose from his chair.

"I'll see you in the yard," he was still smiling; I was pretty sure he hadn't stopped the entire time he was eating, "Vilkas will be testing you soon, and I want to be there when he does."

I heart leaped. Not only would I have to hold my own against a foe twice my size, but I had to do it with an audience. Yet there was something comforting about knowing he would be there. Perhaps he wouldn't allow Vilkas to kill me.

@iwantthedean @goldenangelbloodcastiel , I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be tagged on these too. @apurdyfulmind

[crazililwabbit]

New favorite insult, lobotomised shitlarks. Best.

Russell Howard’s Good News

      ↳Season 10, Episode 1