#river x eagle queen

[marlinspirkhall]

Tag game: URL song

“Spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters.”

Prev thread got too long so I'm starting a new one. Thanks for the tag @frogayyyy !

Mountains O' Things (Tracy Chapman)

Angeles (Elliott Smith)

Regulars (Allie X)

Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream (Ed McCurdy)

Independence Day (Elliott Smith)

Neon Sisters (Thomas Dolby)

Sea, Swallow Me (Cocteau Twins)

Pissing In A River (Patti Smith)

Insomniatic (Aly and Aj)

Rosie (Joan Armtrading)

Killer Queen (Queen)

Happy (Mitski)

Anyone But Me (Joy Crookes)

Leave A Tender Moment Alone (Billy Joel)

Lyin' Eyes (Eagles)

No pressure tags: @blue-jello-queen @herenya-writes @convenient-plot-device @jimkirkachu @hurt-spock @renthebarbarian @ellisper @systemadministratorclu @redshiftsinger @joybates @beauty-grace-outer-space @detectivehole @gayspock @ifdragonscouldtalk @transxfiles @soft-and-certain and also, open tag to anyone who wants to do it!

[lathalea]

The White Raven 6/9

Yes, it's happening, I'm back with a fresh new chapter of this fic, and I'm so nervous! It took me a while to get here but I hope you'll like the next part of Thorin and Carra's story.

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Carra Rating: G Warnings: mentions of injuries/death Author's notes: This is the story of Thorin Oakenshield's quest to find the White Raven, a mysterious creature of legends only few were fortunate enough to see. This is the story of love stronger than time, destiny, and laws of gods and mortals alike. You can find this fic on AO3.

Special thanks to @legolasbadass for being an amazing and insightful beta reader and helping me out with Very Important Things Like Commas and Temporal Issues In Middle Earth😍🤣 Extra special thanks to @legolasbadass (yes, again, OMG, you're so popular! 🤣) and @i-did-not-mean-to for our Silm evenings and very deep discussons that helped me write this chapter 💚 Thank you everyone who showed their support for this story, you motivated me to continue writing 💙 You are the best readers in the world 🤩🤩🤩

Khuzdul: Lulkh - fool Yasthûnê - my wife ’ugbalul ’uhaskhajam - [the] greatest sacrifice Adad - father Tharkûn - Gandalf

🌟 Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 ...

Thorin did not know how much time had passed. A few heartbeats? An hour? An eternity? Vaguely familiar shapes circled the darkening sky above him. Ravens? Eagles? He did not know that either. Thinking did not come easily any longer. His thoughts were muddled. His wound pulsed in pain with the rapidity of trickling blood. And he could not move. His foe’s blade had  pierced his body. Some unknown solid weight pressed him to the cold, unforgiving surface. It was difficult to breathe. His nostrils filled with the stench of Orc blood. The icy chill spread through his limbs. 

He opened his mouth, but only a whisper came out before Thorin lost the internal battle with his own body.

“Carra…”

Silence. Bird-shaped clouds in the sky. Snowflakes on his cheeks. Or perhaps tears. He could not keep his eyes open any longer. His mind slowly drifted off into the darkness.

***

“Uncle! Uncle Thorin!” A faraway voice invaded Thorin’s mind, stirring it awake. This voice sounded familiar. But he was tired. Too tired. The darkness beckoned, offering the comfort of oblivion. He needed to rest. Sleep.

“Look! Kili! He is here!” another voice replied, slightly deeper than the previous one. “Under that Orc carcass?” the first voice asked.

“There is so much blood… Isn’t that Azog?”

“Aye! Or what’s left of ‘im,” a third voice joined in. Older. Raspier. 

“Look at his back!” 

“Either that’s Orcrist’s tip or I’m the Goblin Queen! That son of a goat did it! Quickly now, lads, help me take that beast off Thorin. Fili, on my mark, pull!”

There was movement. More voices. Piercing pain. A dull grunt filled Thorin’s ears. Was it his own voice?

“He’s alive!”

“Thank Mahal! Uncle Thorin, can you hear me?”

“He’s unconscious, you lulkh!” “We need to get rid of that filthy Orc blade first. It’s stuck in ice.”

“Slowly now!” A sea of pain washed over Thorin, his whole body stiffening with each wave. But the darkness patiently waited for him and took him in its merciful arms once more.

***

“He’s still breathing!”

“Thorin, wake up! Wake up, ye lazy bastard!” someone growled straight into his ear. “Damn it!”

“Dwalin, look, we stopped the bleeding.”

Those voices again. Pulling Thorin back into consciousness. Into the pain and emptiness.

“Let’s finish dressing his wound and then we’ll take ‘im to Oín,” the growling one said. 

“What’s that, Fili?” the young, familiar voice said. “Where?” “Over there, by that pointy rock on the other side of the river.” 

“Looks like a dead Warg to me,” the one very close to him rasped out. A pair of hands kept on doing something to his chest. It hurt. He wanted it to stop. 

“Too small for a Warg, Dwalin. It’s… by Mahal’s beard!”

“Where are you going, Fili? Wait for me!” The first voice sounded irritated.

A sound of hurried footsteps. Iron-heeled boots against ice. 

“Those two can’t sit in one place in peace if their life depended on…” the raspily-sounding one grunted. “I tell ya, Thorin, when ye’re better, we’ll send them on guard duty. First morning shift for a month. That’ll teach ‘em!”

Somehow, it made Thorin want to smile. But now, even smiling hurt.

“It’s a raven! So big! Look at its wings! Why are you staring, Fili?” the youthful voice reached his ears again.

“I think it’s… the White Raven.”

“What?! It’s just a fairy tale!” “I’ve seen this raven before, Kili,” confidence rang in the second voice. “I think it followed us on the way to Erebor. It helped me fight off a Warg-rider in the Misties just before the eagles came.”

Thorin took a reluctant breath. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. 

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. There is so much blood… Is it dead, Fili?” “Let me see… That’s a nasty wound.”

Thorin’s muscles tensed. He wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to speak. But his body didn't want to obey.

And then he heard two gasps at the same time.

“What’s happening?”

“Do you see it too, Fili?”

“It’s… it’s magic!”

“No, it’s a shapeshifter!”

“Look! Look!”

“A woman?!”

Both voices intermingled in Thorin’s exhausted mind, making less and less sense. He needed to act. He needed to… He breathed in. The air smelled like snowdrops.

“Thorin! Ye’re back! And here I was thinkin’…” A tattooed forehead and a bushy moustache appeared before his eyes. “Stop squeezing my hand so hard!”

“Carra…” Thorin managed to rasp out. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“What are ye sayin’?” Dwalin demanded.

“Help…. her…” He tried again. “She is…” “What? I can barely hear ye.”

 The last wisps of strength were leaving him. He could feel the darkness beckoning to him once again. “Yasthûnê…” Thorin articulated slowly. “My… wife.”

***

Warm rays of sun gently caress Carra’s cheek, and she enjoys the sensation for a short while before opening her eyes. It takes her a moment to adjust to the bright light. She lays on soft ground, the strands of her silver-white hair interlacing with the lush green blades of grass. A multitude of colourful flowers adorns the meadow around her, their sweet fragrance wafting through the air, intertwining with the lazy buzz of bees. She rolls onto her back and stares at the perfectly clear blue sky above. Then she takes a deep breath. A distant echo of pain rings out in her mind, but there are no bruises or wounds on her body. 

When a puffy white cloud drifts into her blurred field of vision, Carra wipes off the wetness from her cheeks, stands up, and looks around. The endless meadow seems to stretch for miles in every direction. A soft breeze kisses her face, bringing the faint sound of water lapping against a distant shore. She follows it, and soon, a sparse grove of trees appears in front of her. Beyond it, she sees a stream, its silvery current sparkling in the sun. For a brief moment, an orange butterfly dances just above her nose and then flies off towards the meadow behind her. Carra’s eyes follow its flight when a curious harmony of sounds draws her attention back to the stream.

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Tap-tap. Swoosh.

It seems to be coming from across the stream, and Carra decides to find its source.

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Tap-tap. Swoosh.

As she walks through the grove, she encounters a young doe nibbling on a nearby shrub. It glances at her curiously and then trots away, as if deciding that Carra’s presence is disturbing its meal. 

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Tap-tap. Swoosh.

Carra walks on, her bare feet sinking into the silky soft moss, step after step, until she finds herself at the edge of the grove. The stream is only several steps ahead. Its murmuring waters bring a hum of voices.

Tap-tap. Swoosh. Ta-tap. Ta-tap. Tap.

An irritated sigh.

“Another broken thread?” A warm, feminine voice asks. It makes Carra think of spring in full bloom.

“Too many of them. It seems like another busy day for my husband.” Another woman speaks, her voice as melodious as the nearby stream.

“And you? You have been weaving since dawn,” the first one says.

“This pattern grows ever more complicated. It changes much too often for my taste these days.” The other woman sighs again. “Tell me that at least your work bears fruit.” “Some of these seeds refuse to sprout. The taint is spreading. I feel it in the earth.”

“The Fallen One is regaining his strength,” a third voice joins in. Deep and resonant. “I see his traces beyond the veil.”

Carra takes a careful step forward and focuses all of her attention at the opposite side of the stream. There, a garden of breathtaking beauty blooms before her eyes. Within it, she notices three silhouettes, the owners of the voices she hears. At first, their appearance seems similar to Elves, but soon after, Carra quickly understands her error. They are taller, their posture and movements are even more graceful, and there seems to be an otherworldly glow about them. Whenever she tries to look up into their faces, Carra has to squint—not only because of their radiance but also because their features seem to be ever-changing, fluid, like water in a mountain stream. Each of these noble figures is clad in finely ornamented robes that sway slightly when the same gentle breeze that brought her here plays with their hems.  

One of the ladies kneels on the ground, ignoring the dirt stains on her garments. Their fabric is as green as her eyes. Her right hand rests over the brown, freshly turned soil and wisps of chestnut hair fall over her eyes. The other lady, her hair wavy and black as night, sits by a strangely-looking wooden frame with numerous threads attached to this elaborate contraption. Their colours form an intricate, multi-level pattern that seems to grow—bloom—in all directions in Carra’s eyes. She immediately feels dizzy and has to look away. Then her attention focuses on the third figure that  joined the others a mere moment ago. A strapping man, his aspect equally stunning as those of his two companions, strolls towards them, his movements measured and dignified. As far as she can discern, he is clean-shaven, unlike Dwarves, and his long, white hair flows freely down his shoulders. In his hands, there is a silver jug, its surface glistening in the sun.

“Even though you bring morbid news, you are a welcome sight, brother-in-law!” the black-haired lady says, clasping her hands and moving away from her loom. “May I offer you some refreshment?” He bows reverently to his companions, and before they respond, he fills three silver cups with the contents of the jug.

Carra licks her parched lips.

“The sweet water from your fount!” The Green Lady stands up graciously and takes one of the cups. 

“I know how fond you are of its taste.” The man’s hair dances in the wind as he speaks. An orange butterfly flutters among his flowing strands. “You come bearing gifts but it is not why you are here.” The Weaver looks into his eyes.

“I have simply come to admire your weaving skills,” he offers.

“Dear Dreamer, you are curious about my winged children, are you not?” The Green Lady gives him a nod.

“It is only natural,” he refills her cup. “Some of them bear our blessing, do they not?” “Indeed they do.” The Weaver approaches him with her cup and states, “How interesting that you chose today of all days.”

“My visions are blurred. Inconclusive.” He stills, gazing up into the sky, and then turning his attention back to the two women. “Tell me, have our gifts to them remained a blessing or have they rather turned into a curse?”

The Weaver sits back at her loom and looks closely at the glistening fabric; her fingers run along some part of the pattern hidden from Carra’s sight. “Your children have been fulfilling their duties well. Although the youngest one tends to make my work a tad more challenging.”

“The youngest one?” the man frowns.

“The one with  wings dusted with silver.” The Green Lady takes a sip from her cup, her features schooled in a neutral expression.

“Silver? That certainly explains quite a bit. Your husband and his experiments…” The Weaver shakes her head. “Why now? Why this one?”

“I truly cannot say.”The Green Lady gives her an enigmatic smile and takes another sip. “But perhaps you would rather see her for yourselves.”

“Perhaps we would.” The Weaver’s fingers hover above the countless threads of her loom while the man nods. The butterfly lands on his shoulder, folding its orange wings.

“Very well. She has been listening to us long enough,” the Green Lady says, taking a look at the dark patch of planting ground under her feet. “Come, child.”

It takes Carra a blink of an eye to realise that she is not standing in the grove any longer. She gasps and blinks twice, but her eyes do not deceive her. Now she faces three luminous beings—in their garden across the stream.

“Great Mother!” she whispers and falls on her knees in front of the lady clad in green, bowing her head. In the presence of these great figures, blinded by their magnificent splendour, she feels like a feeble, featherless fledgling that fell out from its nest.

“Rise, Carra,” the Green Lady addresses her softly, and Cara does what she is told. “Do you know why you are here, my child?”

“I…” she croaks faintly, unable to stop staring into Great Mother’s incandescent face. A kaleidoscope of images fills her mind. The freezing ice. Thorin’s face when he notices her and his widened blue eyes. The Pale Orc, his teeth bare, with his blade pointed at her mate. Her bloodied talons clawing at Azog’s face. And then—darkness.

“I have died.” She hears her own voice. 

In a blink of an eye, the images are gone, dispelled like a wisp of smoke on the wind. Only the orange butterfly swirls around her head.

“Do you know, child,” there is a frown on the Weaver's face when she turns to Carra from above her loom, “how thin these threads are? How delicate? Even the slightest whiff of wind can change the pattern—or destroy it as if it was a spider’s net.”

“I have only tried to protect the pattern,” Carra swallows, feeling three pairs of eyes on her.

“You have saved some vital parts of it, that is true, but I hear that you also left us with tangles in the weave,” now her life-giver speaks, her eyes glistening like emerald waters of a fathomless lake.

“Forgive me, Great Mother. The line of Durin had to stay unbroken. I did my best. But I have failed,” Carra hears her own trembling voice. “Darkness clouded my dreams…”

“And so you staked out your own path, Silver One,” the Weaver speaks as if to herself, patting her index finger against her lips in reverie. “Which left us with all those new thread combinations.”

Then she exchanges a glance with her companions, and the man called Dreamer speaks.

“See for yourself,” his eyes, grey like a wolf’s fur, rest on Carra. First, he raises his eyebrow but then motions her towards a small rock basin. She can swear that this object has not been there a moment ago. He takes the silver jug and fills the basin with a narrow, glistening stream of water. The orange butterfly dances above it and then rises above their heads. The water’s surface resembles a mirror, and Carra’s eyes are drawn to the movement she seems to see in its depths.

Countless veins of silver run through coarse stone walls of a cave, glittering like gossamer strands that cover foliage at dawn, but instead of dewdrops, tears flow down from a Dwarf-woman’s cheeks, following the crevices of her wrinkled face. She wears a crown of snow-white braided hair and a dark blue robe with golden ornaments. In her weatherworn hand, she holds a piece of parchment with a green, rectangular seal at the bottom. Beside her sits a slightly hunched elderly Dwarf with bushy, grey whiskers and rows of faded tattoos on his bald head.

“Now we are the last ones, Dwalin,” the Dwarf lady sobs. “My boys… My brothers… And then Balin… Dain and his son… Gone.”

“Aye,” the old warrior gently closes his hand over hers. “But they will not be forgotten.”

“Gone…” Carra’s lips tremble as she stops herself at the last moment from touching the water. As she moves her hand back, a curtain of ripples falls over the image, changing the scenery.

The image of the familiar green and black shape of the Great Gate of Erebor fills the rock basin. An army of Dwarves rides to battle on their war rams, led by the King Under the Mountain. Carra recognizes his blade at once. Orcrist. It is Thorin! She gasps. The Raven Crown graces his temples frosted with grey. And his beard has the same colouring as her feathers. Silver-white. As the events unfold, she recognizes them from her past dreams. The Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain and the Iron Hills join forces with the Men of Dale. The battle is long and bloody, but the allied forces ultimately crush their enemies. At that moment, the vision changes. She does not recognize this new detail. An armour-clad warrior rides from Dale on a white war ram. As soon as Thorin sees him, he dismounts, and soon both men greet each other with a strong embrace.

“The city is safe, adad!” The young warrior grins, taking off his helmet. The wind plays with his entangled hair, which seems to glow in the setting sun.

“You did well, Thráin,” Thorin replies, his gaze softening. He presses his forehead against Thráin’s and whispers, “You made me proud, son.”

A faint whiff of wind kisses the water’s surface, transforming it into a flurry of silvery ripples.

By a gilded cradle sits a young Dwarf-woman. Her chestnut hair glints as if enchanted with fire, contrasting with the snow-white laces of her sleeping gown. The mithril beads in her braids clink when she takes her babe into her arms, and a smile brightens her heart-shaped face.

“You will be a king one day,” she whispers lovingly, kissing her little one on his forehead. Quietly humming a sweet lullaby, she adjusts the blanket her son is wrapped in. Carra notices that its hem is embroidered with little black and golden ravens.

A sudden wrinkle on the water disturbs its surface, making the water glitter like diamonds.

A cold, pale sheen illuminates the green marble walls when the King Under the Mountain ensconces on his throne. The source of this light comes from a jewel of unmatched beauty set over the king's head. The golden and obsidian crown rests on his raven-black hair. But the ruler of Erebor, Thorin II Oakenshield, is not smiling. A deep, menacing frown darkens his face. In his hand, he holds a wide dwarvish sword. Blood drips from its tip onto the cracked marble floor. There is no red-haired Dwarf queen beside him. There are no children playing at his feet. There is only deathly silence. And the shadow he casts is that of a dragon.

When the visions finally fade, Carra finds herself staring into the bottomless depths of a pair of grey eyes. She does not notice when the orange butterfly lands on the edge of the empty jug.  

***

“Carra…” her name sounded like a helpless croak. Thorin’s throat was parched.

It took him a while to regain all of his senses and open his eyes. He lay on a large cot in a spacious tent that looked suspiciously like a work of Elvish hands. He grunted. Every single part of his body seemed to hurt. Bandages covered most of his torso, and he could not move his arm without inducing even more pain. 

A louder groan left his lips when he tried to sit up and failed. Something in the nearest corner of the tent moved.

“Your Majesty…” A young Dwarf in a healer’s tunic appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “You are awake!”

“Where…” Thorin coughed. Even breathing drained his strength.

“All is well, my lord. Try not to speak, please. The enemy is defeated. Erebor is once again ours.”

“Is… my…” His attempt at speaking failed once more.

“Your kin and companions are alive and well, Your Majesty.” A mug was pressed against his lips, and Thorin greedily drank its contents. He welcomed the sweet taste of water on his tongue. It probably came from the spring at Ravenhill.

Ravenhill.

His heart sank.

“Carra…? Where…?” he whispered. Every word felt like a struggle.

“Forgive me, my lord, who?” the healer frowned.

Thorin did not respond. He was already asleep.

***

“The White Raven?” Dain Ironfoot’s brow furrowed as he clutched a tankard in his hand. “Here, in Erebor? Are ye drunk, Fili?”

“It’d take more than a mug of ale to make me drunk, Uncle!” the young dwarf protested. “I swear on Mahal’s beard. She fought the Pale Orc together with Uncle Thorin and…”

“She?” said Agnarr, one of Dain’s captains who sat on his left, raising his eyebrows, which resembled a thick, black caterpillar.

“Aye! I found her myself! And then Tharkûn said… well, he didn’t want to say anything about her at first, but I convinced him to tell me…” Kili started with a mischievous smirk, only to be interrupted by his brother.

“He followed the wizard day and night and bombarded him with questions, until Tharkûn had enough,” Fili whispered conspiratorially, leaning towards Dain.

“Well, I convinced him, didn’t I?” Kili huffed. “The wizard said that if not for her, Thorin’s fate would have been very different! You saw that wound of his.” “Aye, if that orc blade went in a bit lower, he’d be resting in the catacombs together with the kings of old,” Ironfoot muttered under his breath.

“Exactly. Besides, before he left, Tharkûn mentioned something about treasure, too!”

“A treasure?” Dain Ironfoot asked.

Kili shrugged in response, “I don’t think he meant the gold in our mountain…”

“Wizards and their riddles…” Dori sighed, pouring himself another mug of ale.

“So ye’re telling me,” Dain demanded, “that a creature straight from our legends appeared out of thin air and fought the Pale Orc with Thorin? And that the White Raven is a woman?”

“And a pretty one, too!” Bofur winked. “That hair of hers…! White as snow!”

“More like silver-white to me,” Fili puffed out a cloud of pipeweed smoke.

“Was she not supposed to be a great bird? Like the legends say?” Dain grunted.

“She is!” Kili nodded eagerly. “I mean, she was a bird, but then she turned into a woman, I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Now she looks more like a Dwarf,” Fili added.

“A raven looking like a Dwarf?” Vari, son of Nari, another of Dain’s soldiers, scratched his bald head.

“And a bit like an Elf, too,” Kili grinned and waved his hand in the air. “She has pointy ears, you know. Ouch, Fili, why did you kick me?”

Dain groaned, “Pointy ears…? By Mahal’s beard, I think I need another mug of ale.”

“Are ye drinkin’ without us, ye sewer rats?” Dwalin appeared by the table, followed by his brother.

“We’re all celebratin’ our victory over the orcs and wargs!” Captain Agnarr pointed at the multiple groups of Dwarves gathered around them in one of the least ruined halls of the Lonely Mountain.

“There’s nothing better for a soldier’s morale than a few casks of the Iron Hills ale,” Balin sat beside him and poured two mugs—for himself and Dwalin. “What would you say about a toast?”

“To victory?” Ori proposed.

“We drank for that last time,” Vari shook his head. 

“If all you said is true, lads,” Drengi, a large dwarf, said, two golden teeth glinting in his mouth, “we should be toasting the White Raven.”

“To the White Raven!” strong voices echoed against the ceiling of the cavern as more dwarves joined the toast with their mugs raised into the air.

“To Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain!”

“To King Thorin!”

“To the Lonely Mountain!”

“To the Longbeards!”

In the growing racket, Balin turned to Fili and Kili.

“What did you tell them, lads?”

“Nothing much besides what we saw when we found Uncle Thorin after the battle,” Fili said.

“And that the White Raven helped us during the Quest,” added Kili. “Fili, I completely forgot! Remember what Uncle Thorin called her when we were taking him back to the Lonely Mountain?”

Fili nodded, but before he answered, Balin put his hand on Kili’s shoulder.

“That, my boy, is better left unsaid.”

“But Uncle Dain said that the King Under the Mountain will need a queen now and that he has a perfect candidate for Uncle Thorin. How can Uncle Thorin marry her if he…” Kili continued.

“This is the conversation that Thorin—and Thorin only—needs to have with Dain. Do you understand?” the elderly dwarf searched their faces solemnly.

“Aye, Uncle Balin, we do,” Fili reassured him.

***

“...since we moved his majesty into the Mountain. His fever has dropped and the wounds are healing well but he keeps on asking about someone named Carra.”

“Thank you, Nari, you were most helpful. Try to catch some sleep. I will stay with him now.” Words spoken in a soothing timbre of voice reached Thorin through the haze of dreams.

“Balin?” he blinked a few times, trying to chase the drowsiness away.

“I’m here, laddie,” a familiar silhouette in a burgundy robe stood before him. “You gave us a scare for a wee moment there.”

Thorin could not stop himself from smiling at the sight of the familiar face of his old mentor. As he attempted to sit up, an intense spike of pain ran through the left side of his body. The only thing he managed to do was lift his head slightly. At that moment, an additional pillow was placed beneath it. He grunted. At least the Dwarvish beds were much more comfortable than the Elvish ones.

“Carefully now, laddie. No sudden movements. Your foot needs time to heal properly. Your left shoulder and arm were badly injured too. The healers had to use a splint…” 

It was a challenge to focus on Balin’s words, but as the dizziness subsided, Thorin’s thoughts became more coherent. Various parts of his body ached, his left leg felt heavy, and he could not move his left arm—it was indeed encased in a splint, exactly like Balin said—but he was able to take a look around the room. Even if he did not recognize this particular place, he recognized its walls hewn from the same greenish rock as the walls of the old chambers he used to live in as a young prince. A lifetime ago. And now, he was home again. Home.

“Tell me everything. Is Erebor safe?” With a pained grunt, he turned towards Balin. 

“Aye. Worry not, the Mountain is well-protected. Dain is here with his warriors. We are working on making our home liveable again,” Balin replied, patting Thorin’s right hand, which lay on the bed. “You did well, laddie. The corridors and caverns are echoing with stories about the return of the King Under the Mountain who killed the Pale Orc and avenged his esteemed grandsire.”

Killed. He swallowed, attempting to ignore the memories of that fight that came back to him like an unstoppable flood—and of the price he paid to survive. Or rather, the price someone else paid for him. He lost her.

“King? Me? A Dwarf who succumbed to the curse that plagues his house? Who valued hoarded gold over…” With a sneer, Thorin looked away, his voice hollow. “I am not worthy of that title, Balin. Not any longer.”

“Do you remember that audience in the throne room when King Thrór met with the refugees from the White Mountains? You were still a prince at that time.”

“How could I forget? Not only did I break protocol, but also I interrupted Grandfather. I declared that if he would not send his troops, I would fight the Orcs who invaded their homes—on my own. Mother was truly ashamed of me on that day. And Father would not speak to me for a month.” “Ah, the impulsiveness of youth,” Balin nodded. “But you have always had your heart in the right place. Do you remember what I told you on that very day?”

“Life is like a battle. When you fall, you have to rise again and fight. Otherwise you lose,” Thorin said under his breath. He recalled the countless nights when he whispered those words to himself, lying on the hard ground, far from home, when the thought of retribution was the only thing that drove him forward.

 “We reclaimed our homeland thanks to you. You overcame the curse and led us to victory. You have fought and won this great battle, Thorin,” the elderly Dwarf spoke softly.

“I did not. Not alone,” Thorin admitted, unable to look Balin in the eye, his throat constricted. Something ached in his chest, and it was not his wound. “I had help.”

“Indeed. I saw the Pale Orc’s corpse. It bore marks of dwarven weapons… and others that bore resemblance to talons and a beak,” the older Dwarf said.

Thorin did not reply. Not because he chose not to speak but because the right words would not come to him.

After a pause, his mentor added, “Fili claims that he heard a deafening sound, like a large bird’s screech, only moments before they caught sight of you on the frozen river.”

“A screech…” Thorin repeated to himself. Something stirred in his mind; Azog’s hideous grimace, the ice beneath him reverberating with a strange sound that filled the air, and the moment when the tip of Orcrist’s blade plunged into the Orc’s chest. He blinked several times. His own words rang in his ears.

“Carra, no!”

He remembered the darkness that came afterwards. And pain.

 A life for a life.

It should have been him.

Balin’s voice seemed to come from far away.

“... I heard the guards retelling the old legends of the White Raven. And a new tale is spreading through Erebor: a story about a large, white-feathered raven that bravely fought by the King Under the Mountain’s side at Ravenhill,” he said.

Thorin remained silent, staring at the white sheets that covered him. White as ice on that day. White as the feathers in her wings. He felt cold.

Silence seemed to stretch between them like the bottomless chasm beneath the Mountain until Balin spoke again. 

“Help me understand this, laddie.” 

Reluctantly, Thorin’s fingers found the leather band strung around his neck and pulled it from under the blankets that covered him. His old friend’s eyes widened at the sight of a silver-white feather.

“The White Raven…” The words in Thorin’s mouth tasted like ash. “Carra. I have known her for most of my life. After Smaug's attack, she left her nest behind and followed me to the Blue Mountains.” Thorin met his mentor’s eyes. 

“The White Raven... The stuff of legend, eh?” Balin hummed, examining the feather with reverence.

“I am aware of what it must sound like. Legend or not, she is real. She was,” he corrected himself, swallowing hard. “At Ravenhill… Had she not intervened, Azog would have taken my life. She chose ’ugbalul ’uhaskhajam and gave her life for me instead.”

“Thorin… By Mahal’s hammer, laddie, what are you saying?” The feather fell from his mentor’s hand onto the bed. “’Ugbalul ’uhaskhajam, the act of sacrificing one’s life in battle to protect another, is only performed by one’s kin!”

“Or a spouse,” explained Thorin flatly.

Balin looked down at the silver-white feather and then glanced towards the door before speaking again.

“Dwalin told me that you spoke of a wife,” the elderly Dwarf said. “We thought it might have been your feverish mind speaking, nothing more.”

“It was not. She is… Carra was my wife, Balin.” His own whisper sounded hollow.

Balin stayed silent for a few heartbeats and then cleared his throat, as if deciding on something.

“That certainly explains quite a bit—including a very curious occurrence. You see, Thorin, after the battle, we did not find any signs of this revered bird at Ravenhill. Instead, there is a strange woman of mysterious provenance in our infirmary, and the healers…”

“Here, in Erebor?! Alive?” Thorin grabbed Balin’s sleeve, seeing him nod. “Tell me, what colour is this woman’s hair?!”

“Her hair is like this feather: white, dusted with silver,” his mentor replied. “She lives and is under good care. We brought her into the Mountain together with you, but...”

“Thank Mahal!” Thorin rested on his right arm, lifting his upper body as much as he could. “Balin, take me to her at once!”

Swiftly, he moved to the side in an attempt to rise from the bed while a pang of pain shot through his body, sudden like lightning. He fell onto his pillows, taking deep breaths and fighting a wave of dizziness.

“I am afraid you are in no shape to walk, laddie,” Balin rested his hand on his uninjured shoulder. “You are on the mend, but the healers say that you will need time to…”

“Balin! By Mahal’s beard!” Thorin fisted his hand, trying to curb his temper and ignore the pain. “Do you not understand? I need to see her!”

“You are as stubborn as your grandfather,” the elderly Dwarf shook his head in defeat. “Let me talk with Nari and see what can be done. I will be back in a jiffy.”

Balin’s jiffy felt like an eternity to Thorin, but he waited, albeit impatiently.

Carra was alive.

🌟 Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 ... 🌟

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[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Together Part 2- Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Thorin Oakenshield x Sienna Hollyfoot

Description: The Battle of the FIve Armies nearly kills Thorin, but he’s a survivor. When he wakes up he wishes to have a word with his fiance.

Word Count: 2.2k

That fight was much longer than the previous ones. It felt like it lasted an eternity, and it only got more difficult when Bilbo was knocked out by Bolg while both Sienna and Dwalin were distracted. By the end of it she’d received a slashed cheek amongst other injuries, but thankfully that was the worst of it. She had no idea where Dwalin had gone, but she didn’t think about it as her focus was on Bilbo.

She rushed over to him, landing on her knees beside him. Carefully, she pressed a hand to his chest and lowered her head until it was just above his lips. He was still breathing, which she thanked the gods for. Now that she was sure he was alive, she sat up and carefully began shaking him.

“Bilbo, wake up,” she said urgently. It took a few minutes, but the Hobbit finally opened his eyes. He looked around confusedly before his gaze was directed towards the sky. Sienna had no time to say anything before she suddenly heard a bird’s screech above. She followed Bilbo’s line of sight, then smiled when she realized that the Great Eagles had arrived.

“The Eagles are coming,” the Hobbit muttered with a smile, sitting up. The girl nodded, then looked around before facing him.

“Come, we must find Thorin,”: she instructed urgently. They stood in unison and ran towards the river. There, they saw Azog on the ground, motionless with a sword sticking straight out of his gut. The Dwarf in question at the edge of the waterfall, but something didn’t feel right. Sienna’s brows furrowed in confusion, then her eyes widened when her fiance suddenly fell to the ground, grasping his gut.

“Oh Gods,” she gasped out, running over to him with Bilbo right behind her. “Thorin!” Just like with the Hobbit, she landed on her knees beside him, resting her hand on the hand that covered his gut. The King’s eyes opened weakly, examining both her and Bilbo.

“Sienna… Bilbo… I’m glad you’re here,” he trailed off slowly, lifting his free hand to Sienna’s cut cheek. “You’re hurt.”

“Don’t move,” the girl instructed quickly, taking his hand and lowering it to his side while still keeping a hold on it. “I’ll be fine. You need to lie still.” The Dwarf nodded, then his eyes landed on Bilbo.

“I wish to part from you in friendship,” Thorin muttered softly. His words brought tears to both Bilbo and Sienna’s eyes as the Hobbit shook his head.

“No. You are not going anywhere, Thorin. You’re going to live,” he said determinedly.

“I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate,” the King said, disregarding his friend’s words. “You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me...I was too blind to see. I’m so sorry that I have led you into such peril.” His plea was followed by him choking, presumably on blood.

“No,” the Hobbit soothed. “No, I’m glad to have shared in all your perils, Thorin - each and every one of them. And it’s far more than any Baggins deserves.” The duo shared a smile before Thorin spoke again.

“Farewell, Master Burglar. Go back to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees - watch them grow,” he paused as he struggled to choke. “If more people valued home above gold this world would be a merrier place.” His gaze fell on Sienna after that. Upon noticing the tears beginning to silently stream down her face, he squeezed her hand as best as he could.

“Take care of everyone for me. You will make a wonderful Queen to the people of Erebor,” he said softly. Sienna hiccupped emotionally and shook her head.

“I will be nothing without a King - without you by my side,” she whimpered.

“You will be fantastic, just like you always have been,” he whispered, growing weaker with each passing second. “I love you, Sienna Hollyfoot.”

“And I love you, Thorin Oakenshield,” she whispered back, lifting his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Thorin gasped deeply, then began to expire.

“Thorin, Thorin, wake up,” Bilbo muttered, trying to shake him awake. “The eagles...the eagles...the eagles are here. Thorin...the eag…” A small sob left Bilbo’s lips, but no noise could come out of Sienna. She instead just stared down at her fiance, numb.

Things were a blur for Sienna after that. She vaguely remembered one of the Eagles landing beside them, Gandalf atop it. He helped both her and Bilbo onto it and, once the bird took flight, it grabbed Thorin in its claws and flew back down towards Erebor. Once they arrived Thorin, Fili and Kili (who were in the claws of a second Eagle) were rushed to the Fairy healers that had offered their aid.

She broke down the second they said that all three of them would live. It was a miracle that he’d survived with his extensive injuries, but Fairy healing magic was powerful. Even with the tiniest amount of life left in someone, they would be able to live another day. But, he was still in a coma so his body could heal properly.

During that, Sienna (as the temporary monarch since she was courting the King), Balin (as Thorin’s advisor) and Dain went to meet with King Thranduil and Bard to discuss a treaty between the three kingdoms. In the end, an agreement was made; the Elves and Men would aid in the cleanup of the battlefield in exchange for a portion of the treasures that Erebor had to offer. While Bard wanted enough to help his people get back on their feet, Thranduil only wanted one thing from the massive amount of treasure: the White Gems of Lasgalen, a necklace that he had commissioned the Dwarves to make for his wife Aster. As long as these terms were met, there would be peace between Erebor, Mirkwood and Dale.

And everyone kept their promises. The bodies of Men, Elves and Dwarves alike were moved to be prepped for proper burials. Many burn piles were made from Orc bodies, which made them much easier to dispose of. The battlefield was cleaned up while Sienna, Balin and Dwalin oversaw that Thranduil and Bard were given the proper treasure that they had been promised.

“Please, let us know if there is anything else you need,” Sienna said with a sincere smile while Thranduil, Aster, Bard and Roslyn stood in front of them, ready to head to their respective homes.

“We thank you for your generosity in aiding us while we cleaned the battlefield,” Balin spoke from beside her.

“The same could be said to you for allowing us to stay and regroup before we left,” the Elven King responded with a polite smile.

“When King Thorin wakes up we can discuss deals about trade between us,” Bard concluded with a single nod. “Until then, we bid you farewell.” Sienna and Balin stood side by side at the front of the kingdom, watching the army of Mirkwood follow their King and Queen as well as Bard and Roslyn walk back to Dale just across the way.

Once they were all gone, the duo got back to work. They had to prepare the kingdom for the influx of returning Dwarves, all eager to return to their homes. Dis was part of the first group to arrive, and she was more than happy to learn that not only were her sons going to be okay, but her brother was alive after everything that happened.

It was a joyful day when the young Princes woke up. Fili was the first to wake up as his injuries weren’t as intense, and Dis, Sienna and Celeste were right by his side. He was more than happy to find that his uncle and brother weren’t dead and his fiance was okay. Kili woke up just three days later, where he was greeted by his mother, brother, aunt and Nessa, who he had a wonderful reunion with.

Thorin was the last to wake up. It had been a week since Kili had awakened and he, Fili, Balin and Sienna were hard at work in helping rebuild the kingdom. Sienna was in Nessa’s room (which she had been given when she and Kili began courting) sitting with the Elf in question when a knock suddenly came from the door.

“Come in,” Nessa called. The duo watched as the door opened and in walked Fili, looking like he’d just run here. Both women were understandably confused by the sight, but Nessa was the first one to speak.

“Fili? What is it?” The boy looked at the two of them, though his eyes were specifically trained on Sienna.

“Thorin’s awake.” Those two words were enough to put Sienna into a frenzy. She stood up immediately, then remembered she was in the middle of a conversation. She looked to Nessa, but the Elf spoke before she could say anything.

“Go to him,” the blonde said with a knowing grin. “You’ve waited long enough.” Sienna barely had time to offer her a grateful smile before she was out the door. She practically sprinted to the King’s bedroom, ignoring the odd looks she received from passersby. Once she arrived at the door she stopped. After taking a minute to compose herself by smoothing out her hair and dress, she took a deep breath and lifted a hand to knock on the door.

“Come in,” a voice she recognized as Oin’s called from the other side. She carefully grabbed the brass handle of the door and pushed the heavy door open.

As she suspected, she was met with Oin sitting at Thorin’s bedside. Much to her delight, she noticed that the King was half sitting up/ half laying down. He looked much better than the last time she saw him. Most of the color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes were that same brilliant blue that she remembered. Both pairs of eyes landed on her after hearing the door open, and a smile appeared on Oin’s face.

“Ah, Sienna,” he greeted, standing up and making his way over to her. “I see your cheek has healed nicely.” He gestured to her cheek, which had received a nasty cut in battle. Like the older Dwarf noted, the injury had almost fully faded aside from a faint scar that likely wouldn’t go away according to Oin. She smiled and nodded.

“It has. That salve you gave me worked wonders,” she responded somewhat distractedly as her gaze automatically moved to Thorin once again. Oin seemed to understand that they needed some time alone, so he quietly excused himself and walked out, quietly closing the door behind him. Once it was just the two of them, Sienna lifted the bottom of her dress and moved to sit in the chair Oin originally sat in.

“Hello Thorin,” she greeted gently.

“You’re here,” he muttered weakly. The surprise in his tone made the girl laugh softly as she grabbed his hand and leaned closer to him.

“Of course I am,” she responded in a soft voice.

“After everything I’ve done…” he trailed off. Sienna understood what he was saying. A small smile appeared on her face.

“I feel no ill will for what you said before the battle, for you were under the influence of the Dragon Sickness. Balin told me what may happen when we reached the treasure, and so I knew not to take anything you said to heart,” she explained.

“Balin tells me that I made you cry,” he pointed out, sounding guilty. “When you and Dwalin got back from trying to reason with me, he tells me that you cried into Kili’s shoulder until I showed up.

“You cannot blame yourself for how you acted when you weren’t in your right mind,” she shook her head with a sympathetic look. “I knew that, logically, it wasn’t truly you saying what you said, but it was the fact that it was your voice saying it. That is what upset me, and that is what made me cry. But don’t think for a second that I would not stay beside you no matter what you say or do. ‘Wherever you go I will follow,’ that’s what we agreed to when I joined your Company.” And whether you like it or not, I am sticking to my word because I love you.” Her words looked like they comforted him based on the smile he offered her once she finished speaking.

“I love you too.” The couple shared a fond smile after he answered her. Sienna carefully leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his lips, which he gladly reciprocated. Once they pulled away, their foreheads came to rest against each other’s and they basked in each other’s presence for who knows how long. Because they deserved that much.

They had dealt with many hardships up to this point. It wasn’t an easy quest and there were several times where they believed that they wouldn’t survive it. But they did, and they did it together. And now? They would continue to do everything together because that’s how they did it best. And they were happy with it.

[rosenongrata]

Behind the Stars – The Great Rift

CHARACTER DIRECTORY.

⋯ ✩ A/N: This will probably be updated periodically as I work on them and their universe over time. If you ever have any questions, feel free to drop them in my inbox! Note: This alphabetical list encompasses characters from both Starfield and Liberation. These stories, while in the same universe, take place in different periods.

GALAXIES.

🌌 — Via Lactea – "Ama-gi; the All-Mother" (Milky Way) 🌌 — Andromeda – "Medea" (Messier 31)

THE 88 CONSTELLATIONS.

💫 — Andromeda – "Andy" – The Chained Maiden 💫 — Antlia – "Lia" – Air Pump 💫 — Apus – Bird of Paradise 💫 — Aquarius – "Aqua" – Water-Bearer 💫 — Aquila – Eagle 💫 — Ara – Altar 💫 — Aries – "Ari" – Ram 💫 — Auriga – Charioteer 💫 — Boötes – "Tess" – Herdsman 💫 — Caelum – "Cae" – Chisel 💫 — Camelopardalis – "Cam" – Giraffe 💫 — Cancer – "Ann" – Crab 💫 — Canes Venatici – "Cane" – Hunting Dogs 💫 — Canis Major – "Cani" – Greater Dog 💫 — Canis Minor – "Can" – Lesser Dog 💫 — Capricornus – "Cap" – Sea-Goat 💫 — Carina – Ship Keel (also a part of Argo Navis) 💫 — Cassiopeia – "Cassie" – The Seated Queen 💫 — Centaurus – "Cen" – Centaur 💫 — Cepheus – "Ceph" – The King 💫 — Cetus – Sea Monster/Whale 💫 — Chamaeleon – "Leon" – Chameleon 💫 — Circinus – "Cici" – Technical Compasses 💫 — Columba – Dove 💫 — Coma Berenices – "Berenices" – Berenice's Hair 💫 — Corona Australis – "Aussie" – Southern Crown 💫 — Corona Borealis – "Borea" – Northern Crown 💫 — Corvus – Crow 💫 — Crater – Cup 💫 — Crux – Southern Cross 💫 — Cygnus – "Cyg" – Swan (also the Northern Cross) 💫 — Delphinus – "Dede" – Dolphin 💫 — Dorado – Dolphinfish 💫 — Draco – Dragon 💫 — Equuleus – "Equi" – Pony 💫 — Eridanus – River of Eridanus 💫 — Fornax – Chemical Furnace 💫 — Gemini – The Twins 💫 — Grus – Crane 💫 — Hercules – Heracles from Greek Myth 💫 — Horologium – Pendulum Clock 💫 — Hydra – Sea Serpent 💫 — Hydrus – Lesser Water Snake 💫 — Indus – "Indy" – The Indigenous* 💫 — Lacerta – Lizard 💫 — Leo – Lion 💫 — Leo Minor – "Lee" – Lesser Lion 💫 — Lepus – "Lep" – Hare 💫 — Libra – Balancing Scales 💫 — Lupus – Wolf 💫 — Lynx – Lynx 💫 — Lyra – Lyre/Harp 💫 — Mensa – Table Mountain 💫 — Microscopium – "Micky" – Microscope 💫 — Monoceros – "Ceros" – Unicorn 💫 — Musca – Fly 💫 — Norma – Spirit Level 💫 — Octans – Octant 💫 — Ophiuchus – "Ophi" – Serpent-Bearer 💫 — Orion – Orion from Greek Myth 💫 — Pavo – Peacock 💫 — Pegasus – Pegasus 💫 — Perseus – Perseus from Greek Myth 💫 — Phoenix – Phoenix 💫 — Pictor – Easel 💫 — Pisces – Fishes 💫 — Piscis Austrinus – "Pisci" – Southern Fish 💫 — Puppis – Ship Stern Deck (also a part of Argo Navis) 💫 — Pyxis – "Pyx" – Mariner's Compass 💫 — Reticulum – "Ret" – Eyepiece Graticule 💫 — Sagitta – Arrow 💫 — Sagittarius – "Sag/Saj" – Archer 💫 — Scorpius – "Scorpio" – Scorpion 💫 — Sculptor – "Scully" – Sculptor 💫 — Scutum – Shield 💫 — Serpens – Snake 💫 — Sextans – Sextant 💫 — Taurus – Bull 💫 — Telescopium – "Tele" – Telescope 💫 — Triangulum – "Tria" – Triangle 💫 — Triangulum Australe – "Trin" – Southern Triangle 💫 — Tucana – Toucan 💫 — Ursa Major – "Ursa" – Greater Bear 💫 — Ursa Minor – "Cub" – Lesser Bear 💫 — Vela – Ship Sails (also a part of Argo Navis) 💫 — Virgo – The Maiden 💫 — Volans – Flying Fish 💫 — Vulpecula – "Vixen" – Fox

STARS.

✨ — Beta Andromedae – "Mirach" ✨ — Delta Antliae – "Delt" ✨ — BPS CS22892-0052 Aquarii – "Sneden" (a part of The Elysians) ✨ — Theta Aurigae – "Mahasim" ✨ — Alpha Canis Majoris – "Sirius" ✨ — Alpha Cassiopeiae – "Schedar; Daria" ✨ — Gamma Cassiopeiae – "Navi; Tsih" ✨ — Alpha Centauri – "Rigil Kentaurus" ✨ — Beta Centauri – "Hadar" (goes by Malachy in other worlds) ✨ — BPM 37093 / V886 Centauri – "Lucy" ✨ — Centaurus X-3 / Krzeminski Centauri – "Krze" ✨ — Alpha Cephei – "Alderamin" ✨ — BPS CS31082-0001 Ceti – "Cayrel" (a part of The Elysians) ✨ — Omicron Ceti – "Mira(e)" ✨ — Alpha Corvi – "Alchiba" ✨ — Gamma Corvi – "Gienah; Dextra" ✨ — Epsilon Cygni – "Gienah" ✨ — ZTF J203349.8+322901.1 Cygni – "Janus" ✨ — Alpha Delphini – "Sualocin" ✨ — Zeta Delphini A – "Zeke" ✨ — Zeta Delphini B – "Delphi" ✨ — Alpha Draconis – "Thuban" ✨ — Beta Draconis – "Rastaban" ✨ — Gamma Draconis – "Eltanin" ✨ — Alpha Hydrae – "Alphard" ✨ — Gliese-Jahreiß "431931" – "GJ" ✨ — Alpha Leporis – "Arneb" ✨ — Beta Leporis – "Nihal" ✨ — HD 140283 Librae– "Methuselah" (also known as The Progenitor; a part of The Elysians) ✨ — Eta Ophiuchi – "Sabik" ✨ — Gamma Orionis – "Bellatrix" ✨ — Lambda Orionis – "Meissa" ✨ — V1005 Orionis – "Vee"

ASTERISMS.

💫 — Ashlesha – "Ash" – Naga 💫 — Baihu – White Tiger 💫 — False Cross – "Eris" 💫 — Diamond Cross – "Dia"

[pigeons-svtfoe-au]

The Johansen siblings!

Stellar, Golden and Harpy!

High school, Middle school, and elementary

Fighting, and Announcement 

[ascellavstheforcesofevil]

hopefully this one shows in the tag this is my third time uploading hhh River and Eagle Queen child!!! idk his name yet!!!

[shuinxxii]

Strelitzia - River x Eagle Queen Fankid

Of course I have to participate in making a bird based child! :0

She’s based off a seraph which is a six winged angel. Her flight feathers are translucent and let light pass through, she has a good grasp on healing magics. Her wings can ‘dissapear’. She enjoys posing in front of sunsets and is quite photogenic (hence why I included a background in one of the images for once haha)

I imagine her as a older sibling who’s kind of like a mom and is looking out for you and offers great advice and can be someone you feel comfortable going to.

The whole riverxeaglequeen stuff started with @makanshoku if I remember correctly! 

Thank you @cherryskele // @cherriartist for picking her name!!

[blue-beerry]

So, hey! I make a Eagle x River child!

Her name is Harriet and she is a very amazing singer! Idk why I don't feel able to draw her birdo form, but I will, I promise!

I do her hair design inspired in a cockatoo ;3

Hope you guys like it :3

I forgot to tag kyo-chan bc of her I do this kiddo, thanks @makanshoku for be my inspiration úwù ♡

[thedarkangelpuppet]

Desdemona is inspired by the Ice Queen,Queen Serenity. A few Sailor moon villains and Glinda from the Wizard of Oz.

Puck meanwhile is just a Harpy. Because I like drawing monsters.

In Maras universe, Moon and River got into a fight and divorced.

[tinylight-1]

Another edit!! This time with my bird boi Grey 💖 Ahh I didn't realize how much I love making edits :D I'll try to draw something soon 💜

[isacoremeow]

Amelia Johansen

My RiverxEaglequeen birb kid

Amelia is a calm person a little different from her parents, she likes to explore and find new things, mainly friends! But Mewnians tend to be afraid of her wings and come to the conclusion that she is a monster making it a little difficult for her to make more friends. She loves her interdimensional sinblings and wants to know more of them while she is exploring around, she did not get access to a dimendional scissors yet. She blushes easily!

joining the birbs! @makanshoku

[marlinspirkhall]

Songs which contain the secret:

Just by Radiohead

Yes by Coldplay

Hush by Deep Purple

Crucify by Tori Amos

For My Lover by Tracy Chapman

Waterloo Sunset by The Kinks

Songs which don't know they contain the secret:

Broken Hearted Melody by Sarah Vaughan

Whipping Post by The Allman Brothers

SW by Blonde Redhead

Semi-Automatic by O Mer

Lent by Autoheart

Pissing In A River by Patti Smith

Songs which are waiting for you to tell them:

Mess by Ben Folds

A Distorted Reality Is A Necessity To Be Free (demo version) by Elliott Smith

Drop The Pilot by Joan Armatrading

You've Got The Love by Florence + The Machine

Songs which are still searching for it:

42 by Coldplay

Hotel California by The Eagles

Jigsaw Falling Into Place by Radiohead

Blood Makes Noise by Suzanne Vega

Worried About Ray by The Hoosiers

Songs which wish they knew it:

Kill V. Maim by Grimes

TALES OF DOMINICA by Lil Nas X

They ache for it:

Pulaski At Night by Andrew Bird

I Think I'm Gonna Kill Myself by Elton John

Songs which once knew it, but then the secret changed:

Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

Feeling Good by Nina Simone

Pavlov's Bell by Aimee Mann

Songs which are just as surprised as you are by what they find inside themselves:

I Need My Girl by The National

Turn The Page by Bob Seger

Sister Golden Hair by America

Plainclothes Man by Heatmiser

Songs which know, but will never tell you:

Tomorrow Is Today by Billy Joel

I Can't Tell You Why by The Eagles

Ooh by Scissor Sisters

Songs which will tell you, given time:

Over My Shoulder by MIKA

Beyond The Sea by Bobby Darin

Songs which don't contain the secret, but if you never listen to them, the others won't tell you:

The Bends by Radiohead

Journey Of The Sorcerer by The Eagles

Songs which make you glad you don't know it:

Lost In The Citadel by Lil Nas X

Fast As You Can by Fiona Apple

I Love You Goodbye by Thomas Dolby

Songs which were imbued with it by mistake and won't give it back:

Strawberry Swing (cover) by Frank Ocean

Night Shift by Lucy Dacus

Humpty by Mitski

[kaedwenistout]

part 4 of the tag dump :{

[velvetcloxds]

Hiii loves, so, this is my first writing challenge and since I've been really enjoying writing song fics, I thought it might be fun to do a song fic challenge with some of my favourite comfort songs, was absolutely terrified to post this because I wasn't sure if people would participate, but if you do, I hope you have fun <33

~RULES:

There is no deadline for this writing challenge, I know that I can't hold to a deadline when it comes to writing, so I don't expect you to either- as long as you have fun when you write it, write it whenever.

Please send me an ask saying which character you want to write for as well as the song you'd like to use.

There can be only two people per song and you can write for more than one song. I’ll cross out a prompt when it’s been claimed by two people.

Fandoms; Harry Potter, Teen Wolf, Marvel, Twilight, Bridgerton, Outerbanks, The Umbrella Academy, The Originals, The Vampire Diaries, Gilmore Girls, Shadow and Bone, Peaky Blinders, and The 100

Please do not submit any smut, smut concepts, smut tropes.

Preferably male!character x fem!reader or male!character x nopronouns!reader

____________________________________________

Masterlist | Fic rec list | Playlist

~FLUFF:

Always- Isak Danielson

I melt with you- Modern English

All those pretty lights- Andrew Belle

Apocalypse- Cigarettes after sex

@/v1oletvenus - sirius black x reader

@illicitvalentine - lily evans x reader

Youth- Troye Sivan

Kiss me- Sixpence none the richer

@wrathspoet - james potter x reader

Heart's content- Brandi Carlile

Will you still love me tomorrow- The Shirelles

@/hairdye-enthusiast - tommy shelby x reader

Nothing's gonna stop us no- Starship

I'll be- Jacob Noah

It's not living if it's not with you- The 1975

@/ughgclden - remus lupin x reader

Perfect- Fairground Attraction

The closest thing to crazy- Katie Melua

All my love- George Ezra

I choose you- Sara Bareilles

~ANGST:

The Last Time- Taylor Swift

@/sarahisslytherin- diego hagrieves x reader

@/mirclealignr - remus lupin x reader

Two Ghosts- Harry Styles

@/sheraayasher - steve rogers x reader

@messers-moony-lupin - remus lupin x reader

Like a river runs- Bleachers

Saturn- Sleeping at last, Tim Fain

@beelovespizza - jess mariano x reader

@mystics-writings- bellamy blake x reader

7 Minutes- Dean Lewis

Forever- Lewis Capaldi

@/thesecretwriter - loki x reader

All I ask- Adele

@/yoooespinosa - regulus black x reader

@ms-heartbreak-queen - regulus black x reader

Empty space- James Arthur

@/natashxromanovf - stiles stilinski x reader

Lost without you- Freya Ridings

Ghost- Banners

Cry over me- Meat Loaf

Save tonight- Eagle-eye cherry

Heal- Tom Odell

I should go- Levi Kreis

Stay- Hurts

~MISC:

Like real people do- Hozier

@/cupids-crystals - remus lupin x reader

@/sarahisslytherin- regulus black x reader

I don't wanna dance- COIN

Sex- Eden

Crimson and clover- Tommy James & The Shondells

80' Flims - Jon Bellion

Stay- Maurice Williams & The Zodiacs

Alone- Heart

Lips of an angel- Hinder

Craving- James Bay

Right girl- The Maine

Heat Waves- Glass Animals

Kiss goodnight- I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Dirty little secret- The all American rejects

@/saintlike78 - charlie swan x reader

Bad decisions- The strokes

Meet me at our spot- Willow, The anxiety, Tyler Cole

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no pressure tags: @/cupids-crystals @/mirclealignr @/sarahisslytherin @/oliverwoodmarrymepls @spxllcxstxr @/moonlitmeeks @/yoooespinosa @/scandalous-chaos @canibeoneofthepogues @/v1oletvenus @natashxromanovf @pad-foots @whiskeypowder @fantqsha @lonelyhe4rts @mendesxruel @mellifluousart @messers-moony @pepper-up-potion @peppers-analytics @rons-whorerp @sereinegemini @/sheraayasher @selenes-sun @leahsficemporium @leydileyla @heloisedaphnebrightmore @henqtic @thesecretwriter @beloved-bucky @queen-asteria04 @iliveiloveiwrite @dracossweetprincess @marauders-lupin @proserpina-magnus @weasel-b33 @isaacmflahey @/saintlike78 @/fairydxll @destourtereaux @songofpolaris @ladyvesuvia +literally anyone who would like to participate

[teddy06writes]

Greek Myth AU: Eros and Psyche Part Two

Eret x afab!reader

trigger warnings: general death/death mentions, Aphrodite being a bit of a bitch, reader is pregnant for the sake of the original myth, but its not mentioned that much

premise: again, this explains the original myth, this part is the second half/the challenge thingys.

Part one

list of Greek Gods/characters for this work

Eros- Eret

Aphrodite- Puffy

Zephyrus- Philza

Zeus- Dream

Pan- Tubbo

Demeter- Ranboo

Hera- George

Hades- Wilbur (only mentioned)

Persephone- Niki

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"No love can exist without trust."

The words echoed through (y/n)s head as they wandered through the still dark field. It seemed no use to them to even try to go back to the villa.

Slowly, they came to a stop next to the brook, laying down amongst the bank, one hand on their stomach as they watched the water pass, wondering what they would do.

How could they go on if Eret had left?

"Are you alright?"

(y/n) jumped at the sudden noise, sitting up and turning to see a saytr- no not just any Satyr, they found themself face to face with Tubbo, god of the wild.

"Uhhh...."

He let his head half fall sideways to look at them closer, "You don't look alright. Have you been crying?"

They sniffed, nodding, "I suppose so, yes. I've just had... a rough day."

He nodded, "Does this have anything to do with what I heard Eret shouting earlier, cause that sounded pretty bad."

"It- was actually."

Tubbo winced, "Yikes. You know, though from what I heard, from what I can see now, you really do look like someone who is very much in love. Don't leave yourself to rot here, you must continue on, and win his affections back."

"But how can I? I've lost all of his trust." They sighed.

"You must try, you must." Tubbo insisted, he offered them a hand and helped them to stand, "There is a way, and you will be able to find it. That I am sure of."

So, (y/n) traveled on, through the lands until they at last reached their home nation. Soon, they sought out their sisters, telling them that their deception had caused them to be cast out, not by a beast, but by the god Eret, himself.

When their sisters claimed excuses, and hurried off (perhaps to try and be taken by the god), (y/n) could only sigh and move on.

As they continued the travel, searching for any signs of their husband, he was stuck in Puffy's castle, the splash of oil having done much more damage than she'd originally thought.

All too soon, Puffy had found out where Eret was, and what had happened. Furiously, she rushed into their chambers, utterly pissed that she had gone so far against her instructions as to fall in love with (y/n).

The goddess was in such a rage, that she hardly noticed the state he was in, instead yelling on about how 'that wretched mortal would need to be punished'.

"No!" Eret cried through gritted teeth, "They may have betrayed me, but this is not their fault!"

"She shall be punished!"

It was only the announcement that Ranboo and George had arrived that pulled Puffy out of her yelling.

"Puffy, what's happened?" George asked once she had returned to the main room.

"Do remember that mortal? The one everyone was infatuated with?" Puffy asked, annoyed.

Ranboo nodded, "I thought you had sent Eret to get rid of them."

"The foolish boy went against me, brought her to some place, kept her safe, and now he's been burned because of it." She sighed, "The mortal will have to be dealt with. No simply plots of a forced love. I shall send them straight down to Wilbur's domain."

George bit his lip, "Well, are you sure that he didn't hide them away for good reason?"

"He fell in love with them." Puffy scoffed.

"Oh come on Puffy, don't punish them just because she fell in love. Doesn't he deserve ore than that? They must have fallen in love for a reason? You are the goddess of love, surely you should understand." Ranboo attempted to defend Eret, only to be cut off.

"I do not care what I should or should not understand! I want this mortal punished, and punished they shall be!" Puffy roared.

Meanwhile, (y/n) still wandered the land, looking for their lover, even as their health seemed to decline.

It had been a rather nice day when they stumbled upon the abandoned temple, covered in debris, and tools left behind. Some how, despite everything, it only made sense to clean the temple. To restore, to the best of their ability, to its former glory, or at least till it didn't look a mess.

It was slow work, but soon they had cleared the weeds, moved the old offerings back to their place, and found a place for the abandoned tools.

"You, poor (y/n)!"

They looked up to find Ranboo, towering over them, "M'lord?"

"I have come with a warning. Since your betrayal of Eret, Puffy has been after you, and you have been in great danger. Still despite this, you've come to clear the temple that my followers have abandoned. Why is this?"

"No place should be abandoned as I have been." (y/n) answered softly.

He frowned, sighing, "Well, I value my alliances with Puffy to much to harbor you. But, I will not turn you in, nor alert her in anyway you were every here. Consider yourself blessed."

As he disappeared, (y/n) couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. They hadn't been met with Puffy's wrath yet. But that did not stop their sorrow.

Wandering farther and farther away from both the valley, and their home, (y/n) came across another temple, taking a rest from the road to step inside.

At the alter, they prayed, "George, queen of Olympus, I beg of you to help me. I am but a mortal, plagued by sorrow, driven out of every place Aphrodite seeks me. I do not wish for my child to be born to this life. Oh, dear George I beg for your help!"

George, hearing these prayers, quietly appeared to them, "Poor dear. I cannot help you, no matter how much I wish too. Puffy's anger stretches far, and even I cannot shield you from it."

When he had disappeared, (y/n) was forced back out the wandering, wondering, if maybe they revealed themself to the goddess, they might receive some mercy.

After a long pondering they set out, and after journey, the found themself at the palace of Puffy. Upon turning themself into the servants, (y/n) found themself dragged before Puffy, who demanded to know what they were doing.

"So you have finally decided to pay me a visit? Or is this just a trick to see your husband, who sufferers from a wound given by your hand!"

It had been a long afternoon for (y/n), until at last the servants, and even Puffy herself, let off, and gave time for the bruises to fully form, as Puffy taunted them, "Such a plain and boring mortal, how could he have fallen for you? And even given you a child? What a pathetic thing it will be."

It didn't take much longer after that for Puffy to decide, "A challenge then, you look to be a maid, lets see how well of one you are. Then you might gain enough favor to see your husband." She called for bags of wheat, barley, beans, lentils and chickpeas to be spread and mixed on the floor, "Have all of this sorted, before the night, and you may win some favor."

And as she disappeared, (y/n) wept, it would be impossible for them to sort the pile, let alone by the time she returned. It had seemed so hopeless, until, droves of Ants, driven by pity made there way into the room.

"Fear not, we shall help you with this task."

Soon the grain was sorted, and the ants disappeared as Puffy returned, looking around incredulously, "This work mustn't be yours! Surely it isn't! You foul thing! This work is far from over!"

The next day, a new challenge was assigned.

"There is a field, a few miles from here, where golden sheep graze all day. Travel there and bring me back a tuft of wool from one by the time the sun sets, or give up on all hope of seeing your husband again." Puffy commanded.

Obediently, (y/n) set out, and as they crossed the river, a soft nymph whispered the secrets to gathering the wool from the dangeours animals.

Carefully, (y/n) waited until noon had passed, until the sheep had settled to one ide of the field, and crept out, gathering the soft tufts from the briars of the bushes.

Yet again, Puffy was surprised by their ability to comply and finish these challenges.

"Surely your husband had some hand in helping you finish this. Quickly mortal, while there is still light, take this, and fetch me the water from the upper most point of that mountain stream."

(y/n) took the pitcher, and slowly began to hike toward the mountain, dreading the dangerous climb ahead. The mountains slowly grew nearer, until (y/n) was forced to fully climb up and over rocks, and the potential fall could prove fatal.

They had paused for a rest, breathing heavy and staring up at the setting sun, there was no way they could make the trip to the top of the mountain and back before night fell.

Yet again, it all seemed helpless, until a kind eagle, indebted to Eret, swooped down, "Give me your jug child, and allow me to help."

When they returned to Puffy's castle, again they were met with surprise. No one had expected their return.

"You have done what I asked, and that makes me suspect you to be a witch. It will take a greater test to determine if you should see your husband again."

(y/n), barley held in a sigh, bowing their head.

"You will journey to the underworld, and meet Niki. She makes a beauty cream, I need you to get some for me. I've exhausted my supply."

(Y/n) began to shake, tears beginning to spill from their eyes, surely this task was impossible. No one could journey to the Underworld and make it back alive.

"Better get going." She scoffed, "And remember, not a single drop

They had no choice but to go.

It was a slow, painful journey, and it took much help, much advice to reach the underworld.

They called upon Niki, who greeted them kindly, and listened to their plight.

"I just wish to see my husband again, so I can explain myself, so I can apologize." (y/n) finished with a sigh.

Niki frowned, "That I cannot help with. But I can supply you with the beauty cream, to bring back to Puffy."

A box was filled and closed out of their view, before Niki presented it to them, with a warning, "The contents of this box, are not meant for mere mortals. It is highly dangerous for you to even look at it. You mustn't open this box, not for anything."

"I understand." They said, taking the box.

The journey back to the overworld seemed to pass quickly, but soon (y/n)s thoughts began to betray her.

Why would they carry this beauty cream if they were not able to take a drop for themself?

How were they suppose to confront their husband if they looked as ragged and hungry as they did now?

Slowly, the temptation took over, surely they would need this beauty cream more than the goddess of beauty.

As soon as the box was opened, they fell to the ground, nearly dead.

While they slept off their injuries, a great fight took place between the gods.

When they had at last awoken, they were greeted with the sight of their lovers face.

"Eret!" They gasped, "I'm sorry! I truly am! I don't know what I was thinking! Please forgive me! I love you!"

She smiled softly, "There is much we have to talk about my sweet."

It had been decided, that (y/n) would join the gods on Olympus, and remarry the god Eret.

Puffy would hurt them no more, and Eret, having heard what lengths they had gone too to get back to them, he couldn't keep them away.

[pigeons-svtfoe-au]

and that day

a really weird friendship started