#skinchanger x reader

[unholygengar]

Winter's Blood & Dragon Fire

Chapter One: A Long journey

The very north of Westeros is a realm where the world seems to slumber beneath an endless blanket of snow and ice. Here, the air is a biting chill, carrying with it the whispers of ancient legends and the howls of wolves echoing through the night. The land is stark and unforgiving, a vast expanse where the snow-covered hills and dark forests stretch out as far as the eye can see, interrupted only by the occasional frozen river or barren, rocky outcrop.

In this desolate and beautiful landscape stands Winterfell, the ancestral seat of House Stark. Winterfell is a fortress as old as time itself, its great stone walls rising up from the white landscape like the unyielding mountains in the distance. The castle is a sprawling complex of towers, walls, and courtyards, each part of it touched by the harsh breath of the North. Its high walls are crowned with frost, and the massive gates, forged of ancient oak and iron, seem to groan with the weight of centuries.

The heart of Winterfell is the Great Keep, a towering edifice of gray stone that dominates the skyline. From its battlements, one can see the vast stretch of the Wolfswood to the west, where direwolves still roam, their eyes gleaming in the twilight. To the east lies the wide expanse of the Kingsroad, winding its way southward through the endless snow towards the warmer, softer lands beyond the Neck.

The Godswood within Winterfell's walls is a sacred place, a haven of ancient trees with branches heavy with snow. At its center stands a weirwood tree, its bark pale as bone, and its leaves a dark red, like the blood of old gods. The face carved into its trunk gazes out with solemn eyes, watching over the quiet grove where the Stark family has prayed for countless generations.

As the cold winds howl around Winterfell, carrying the scent of pine and the promise of winter, the people within its walls go about their lives with a resilience born of necessity. The blacksmith’s hammer rings out in the cold air, the scent of baking bread wafts from the kitchens, and the sound of laughter echoes through the stone halls. The Stark motto, "Winter is Coming," is not just a warning but a way of life, a constant reminder of the harshness of their world and the strength required to survive it.

Sitting beneath the weirwood tree sat the younger sister of Cregan Stark, eyes white as snow and a mind far away from her own body. Atop the great fortress that was Winterfell a bird of prey soared, eyes the same matching white as that of the girl sat against the ancient tree. Humans, in their ceaseless pursuit of power and conquest, found the power to carry swords and armor, their feet bound to the earth while their hearts yearn for what true freedom might feel like. Lyria often watches the birds with envy, their wings cutting through the air with effortless grace, embodying the freedom she craves. Yet, she is grateful beyond measure for the gift of skinchanging, a rare blessing from the Gods that allows her spirit to soar. Each time she melds her consciousness with that of a raven, she savors every moment, feeling the rush of wind beneath her wings and the exhilarating vastness of the world below. In these stolen moments of flight, Lyria truly feels alive, unburdened by the chains of the mortal realm.

A voice of which felt close, yet so far away came to join Lyira’s trail of thoughts, but it was not before the call of her name that her eyes returned to their normal, cool shade of gray. Behind her stood Cregan, her brother, Lord of WInterfell and Warden of The North, his eyes locked with hers, his mouth moving without her being able to make out a single word of what he said. Blinking a few times in hopes of getting rid of the ringing in her ears and the blurriness of her vision, Lyria’s brother knelt made way to kneel before her, his hand coming up to wipe the crimson liquid that escaped her nose.

“How long were you gone, sister?” A question Cregan had repeated for a third time before his sister made sense of what had been asked, her hands found their way to his arms, gripping them lightly as he went on to help her to her feet. When she looked around, it became clear to her that the sun had risen, the sky no longer bleeding gold— she had been gone for a good while without realizing. 

“The sky had yet to look blue when I came outside…” She paused for a moment, taking in her surroundings as she now stood with her feet on the ground once more. Cregan went to link their arms, guiding his sister out from the Godswood, slowly making their way towards the courtyard. “Are we to depart soon? The Gods seem to have granted us fine weather for our long journey– not a single cloud to be seen in the sky.” Lord Stark looked at his sister, her mind still far away even though she walked by his side. It was the usual outcome of her skinchanging— ever since it first happened. It took a while for Lyria to find herself again once her spirit returned into her body, as if it took a while for her to adjust to everything when she no longer saw the world through the eyes of whatever creature she came to possess. 

Cregan turned to his sister Lyria as they arrived in the frost-kissed courtyard, his hands finding and gripping her elbows with a mixture of urgency and tenderness. “We were to leave not long ago, but you were nowhere to be found.” He paused, his eyes locking onto hers with a stern but caring gaze. “I wish for you to stay here, Lyria. The South is no place for a wolf—”

Lyria’s calm fury interrupted him, her eyes flashing with a mix of longing and defiance. “I want to come—no, I need to. I wish to see dragons, Cregan. To feel winds melting my skin instead of the ones that nip at my soul. The North is my home, but you are my pack. You cannot make me stay while you dine with all the Lords and Ladies of the Kingdom.”

Her voice, steady yet fervent, cut through the chill of the air. Cregan’s gaze softened, torn between the protective instincts of a brother and the understanding of a sibling who knows too well the pull of one's heart. All Cregan could do was nod. Knowing his sister as he did, he realized there was no arguing with her resolute and wild spirit. With one final, reluctant squeeze of her elbows, he released her, though his gaze lingered on hers, filled with both resignation and affection. "Aye, then you shall dine alongside all the Lords and Ladies, lie your eyes upon the biggest of beasts, and see all that the South of the Neck has to offer."

Lyria’s grin widened, a flash of triumph in her eyes. With a playful jab to her brother’s shoulder, she spun on her heel and hurried towards her black stallion, her heart brimming with excitement. “Then we shall waste no more time! To the South we ride!” she declared, her voice ringing with a blend of determination and exhilaration as she mounted her horse and set off towards the awaiting journey.

The journey south was a grueling one, a week of relentless travel that saw Lyria and her companions spending a cumulative forty hours on horseback. The Northern travelers, accustomed to the biting chill and the steady rhythm of the snowy landscape, found themselves weary from the relentless pace and the varying terrain of the South. Despite making numerous stops to rest and resupply, the weariness of the road weighed heavily upon them.

As they traversed the Kingsroad, Lyria marveled at the changing scenery. The stark beauty of the North gave way to the lush and varied landscapes of the South. Passing the Neck, the looming silhouettes of the Twins came into view, their stone towers rising above the misty waters of the river. The sound of rushing rivers filled the air as they neared Harrenhal, its massive, crumbling structure a stark contrast to the vibrant life of the surrounding lands. 

The Gods Eye sparkled like a jewel in the early morning sun, its serene surface reflecting the soft light and adding a touch of magic to their journey. They pressed on past Sow’s Horn, its name evoking images of the ancient and the mythical, and Hayford Castle, with its imposing walls and storied past.

Finally, after days of arduous travel and the subtle shift of seasons, the travelers were greeted by the sight of King’s Landing. The sprawling city, nestled against the bay, shimmered in the distance, a vibrant and bustling hub of life. Its towering Red Keep and the bustling streets below seemed almost to beckon, a far cry from the cold, unyielding landscape of the North. As the travelers approached, the city’s grandeur and the promise of new experiences provided a welcome contrast to the fatigue of their long journey.

— — —

Lyria, Cregan, and their small assembly of Northerners made their way through the bustling streets of King’s Landing, the city alive with the sounds and scents of the capital. The Great Sept loomed magnificently to their left, its towering spires catching the midday sun, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. In the distance, the Dragonpit’s dome was a stark reminder of the powerful beast it housed below.

As they continued, the Red Keep came into view, a stunning fortress of red stone that dominated the skyline. Its high walls and grand towers were both imposing and awe-inspiring, a testament to the might and majesty of House Targaryen. The Northerners, weary yet resolute, felt a sense of anticipation and respect as they approached the grand entrance leading into the castle grounds.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by an honor guard of Kingsguards, their white cloaks billowing slightly in the gentle breeze, and their polished armor gleaming. Beyond them stood the royal family, a sight both regal and formidable. King Viserys, though frail and in ill health, was seated in his grand chair, exuding an air of dignified authority. Behind him stood Ser Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, his expression stern and watchful. To the king’s right stood his sons, Aegon II with a proud stance and Aemond with a piercing gaze. 

On Viserys’ left, Queen Alicent stood with a composed grace, her presence commanding and serene. Next to her was the princess Helaena, her delicate features reflecting both beauty and melancholy. The Targaryen family stood proud and united, a powerful symbol of the realm’s might.

Lyria, Cregan, and their companions dismounted their steeds, the journey’s fatigue momentarily forgotten in the face of such grandeur. They slowly climbed the steps leading up to the royals, their movements measured and respectful. As they ascended, the Northerners felt the weight of tradition and history pressing upon them, aware of the significance of this meeting between the North and the Iron Throne. The air was thick with anticipation as they prepared to pay their respects and present themselves to the rulers of Westeros.

All of the guests lowered their heads in respect for the king and his family, though it didn’t go unnoticed by the Stark’s that a certain member of the family was nowhere to be seen— the heir, princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.

As the lord of Winterfell and his sister approached the king, Cregan was the first to offer his greetings. Their hands met in a firm yet gentle handshake, a silent exchange of respect and acknowledgment. While King Viserys welcomed the young wolf lord, his gaze shifted to Lyria, whose soft features did not go unnoticed by his Grace. 

Cregan then moved on to greet the remaining members of the royal family, each gesture marked by the formal courtesy befitting his station. Meanwhile, Lyria stepped forward, her steps measured and graceful. She curtsied with deep respect before the king, who reached out and gently grasped her hand.

"Lady Stark, your brother failed to mention your presence, albeit I am honored to be graced with your northern beauty," King Viserys said, his voice warm and welcoming.

Lyria offered the elder man a small smile, holding her head high despite barely standing taller than the seated king. "You honor me, Your Grace. We sent a raven, though it seems that we reached your blessed home before it got the chance to inform you of my joining."

The king’s face lit up with a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shook his head. "Nonsense, my dear. Your presence is that of a pleasant surprise."

His hand continued to engulf hers, a gesture both reassuring and kind. Lyria felt a sense of warmth emanate from the frail yet resilient king, a stark contrast to the icy winds of her homeland. As she stood there, hand in hand with the Realm's protector, she could not help but feel a sense of profound connection and mutual respect. This moment, amidst the grandeur of the Red Keep and the presence of the powerful Targaryen family, was a testament to the strength and unity of Westeros, a tapestry woven from the diverse threads of its noble houses.

Once the king released Lyria’s hand, she moved on to greet Aegon. A mischievous smirk played on his lips, widening as the snow-white beauty bowed her head to him. In a swift motion, his hands found hers, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a long, rather un-kingly kiss. His violet eyes locked onto hers as their hands parted, his gaze that of a predator eyeing its next meal.

“The Realm has failed to mention that northern ladies are that of beauty, Lady Stark. The view before me is sent by the heavens.”

Surely Aegon thought his flirtatious words would elicit a blush, but Lyria saw the lustful gleam in his eyes, the gaze of a man longing to see what lay beneath the layers of her dress. She smiled—a smile that didn’t reach her eyes—as she replied.

“You flatter me, prince, though I assure you that I am simply human and not a gift sent from the heavens above.”

Aegon chuckled at her response, a small snicker escaping him, followed by a nod. “You could have fooled me, my lady. I look forward to seeing more of you in the coming days.”

Another kiss was placed on her knuckle before she moved to greet the second son of the king: Aemond Targaryen, the one-eyed prince. He stood stoic, taller than his older brother, his well-tended hair resting against the black leather he wore. Lyria nodded at him, her eyes fixed on his uncovered violet eye. This time, she spoke first, her hands intertwined in front of her.

“There are widespread tales of your skills with the blade, my prince. It would be an honor to witness them with my own eyes.”

Aemond’s lips curled slightly, a glimmer of confidence shining in his eye at the compliment. He bowed, his gaze never leaving hers as he extended his hand. Lyria placed her hand in his, and he bestowed a chaste kiss upon her pale knuckles before straightening.

“Your words honor me, Lady Wolf. I suppose it would be a pleasure to demonstrate my honed skills—if the celebrations of my father’s nameday spare us such pleasantries.”

Lyria nodded, her eyes meeting his with a mix of respect and curiosity, the formalities of the greeting charged with unspoken understanding and anticipation.

After greeting the king and princes, Lyria made her way to the queen. Alicent Hightower was young—much younger than her husband. Her auburn hair was neatly braided away from her face, falling freely down her back. A stunning green gown hugged her body, leaves embroidered with gold thread stretching from the collar, wrapping around her waist. As Lyria stood before the gracefully composed woman, she was struck by the realization that Alicent embodied beauty itself. Dropping into a small curtsy, she was met with a forced, yet tender smile from the queen.

“Words do you no justice, my queen. You are as graceful as they come,” Lyria said earnestly. She had never seen such beauty until her eyes slipped to the princess beside the queen. Their exchange was brief, only a few words passing between them before Lyria continued on to Helaena.

Just as Lyria was about to bow her head to the princess, she felt soft, cool hands embrace her face. She met Helaena’s gaze, shocked by the sudden touch of her gentle hands. In the princess’s eyes, Lyria found something familiar—a faraway look, though her physical form was present.

“The wolf can fly…” Helaena’s voice was soft, enigmatic.

Lyria was momentarily confused, aware of the many eyes upon them. Despite not fully understanding Helaena’s words, she nodded, her hands finding and holding the ones on her face. She made no effort to remove the princess’s hands, allowing the white-haired girl to maintain the tender contact.

“The wolf can fly, princess,” Lyria affirmed.

With Lyria’s words, it seemed Helaena returned to her senses, her eyes studying the northern girl she had embraced. It wasn’t often that others responded to her cryptic sayings, yet this stranger from a distant land looked at her with understanding and respect. Helaena smiled, her thumbs softly stroking Lyria’s warm skin. The two stood in comfortable silence, as if the world around them ceased to exist, until the queen beside them cleared her throat.

Helaena’s hands left Lyria’s face, the ghost of her touch lingering on her pale cheeks as the princess took a step back, her eyes still on Lyria, mirroring the curiosity of the Targaryen family. “A wolf with wings is but a rare thing—” She paused, as if the rest of her sentence had slipped her mind. “I’d like to show you the Keep, if you’d let me? The Godswood would be a great start to your stay with us, though I’m sure ours is nothing compared to what your home has to offer.”

Before Alicent or Viserys could stop their daughter, Helaena swiftly led the brunette girl away from the gathering and towards the Red Keep’s own Godswood. The two girls moved in tandem, the world around them a blur as they delved into the serene sanctuary, a silent understanding forming between them.

Arriving in the godswood, Lyria realized that the princess had been right—while the royal godswood was beautiful, it was nothing compared to that of Winterfell. The white bark of the weirwood trees did not blend into the soft summer snow as they did in the North, nor did the crimson leaves provide the striking contrast she was accustomed to. The weirwood tree here stood tall but felt small compared to the ancient giant she was used to praying by, though the somber face carved into its trunk remained much the same, a silent witness to their presence.

The two girls came to a stop before the mighty tree, its roots sprawling out like the veins of the land itself. They sat down by its base, settling into a comfortable silence. Helaena’s eyes roamed the ground as if searching for something hidden in the soil, while Lyria found her small dagger fastened at her hip. Unsheathing the blade, she brought it to her thumb and sliced the skin just deep enough to draw blood. The small drop of crimson, resembling a ruby, gleamed before it met the bark of the weirwood, which seemed to absorb the offering from the northern lady.

The two sat in silence, a sense of peace enveloping them. Though strangers, their brief introduction had unfolded an unspoken understanding between them. The sacred space, with its ancient trees and whispering leaves, provided a sanctuary where words were unnecessary. They were connected by something deeper, something primal and ancient.

Eventually, Helaena broke the pleasant silence. A spider crawled in the palm of her hand as she turned to face Lyria, whose thumb still rested against the tree. “I must ask… How does a wolf fly? Such creatures have no wings, yet your eyes have seen the world from above. How so?”

Lyria looked at the princess, her gaze thoughtful, not sure how the princess knew this information. She took a deep breath, feeling the connection between her and the weirwood tree, the life force that seemed to pulse through its roots and into her soul.

“Wolves may not have wings, but there are other ways to soar,” Lyria began softly. “In the North, some are gifted with the ability to skinchange—to enter the minds of animals and see the world through their eyes. I am one of those few. Through the eyes of a raven, I have soared above the trees, felt the wind beneath my wings, and seen the world from the sky. In the body of a wolf, I roamed the woods and lived freely and in the skin of a bear I experienced the mind of a beast and the power that comes with it. ” She paused briefly, but continued as if knowing that she could trust the princess with such a heavy secret. “I know the South views our ways as wrong, some going so far as to call it black magic, but it is far from truth. I swear it by my Old Gods, for they granted me this gift.”

Helaena’s eyes widened slightly, her fascination evident as she listened. The spider in her hand crawled leisurely, oblivious to the weight of the conversation. “A raven,” she mused, her voice almost a whisper. “How extraordinary. To see the world from such a vantage point… it must be freeing.”

“It is, though I believe you have felt that freedom too.” Lyria agreed, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s a gift, one I cherish deeply. It allows me to escape, to see beyond the confines of my own body and experience the world in a way few others can.”

The princess smiled, a serene expression settling on her face. “Perhaps we are more alike than I thought, Lady Stark. We both see the world differently, in ways others might not understand.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them faded, leaving only the two of them and the ancient tree that bore witness to their bond. The silence returned, but it was no longer empty; it was filled with mutual respect and the promise of a deepening friendship.

Now it was Lyria who continued their conversation. She removed her thumb from the weirwood and moved closer to the princess, her eyes captivated by the massive red spider in Helaena’s hands.

"That is one big spider. We only have small ones in the North, and it’s rare to be graced with their presence."

Helaena nodded, turning her hands over and over as the spider crawled along her skin. There was no fear in her eyes, only a fondness for the small, eight-legged creature. "I can't imagine the North having many insects... Word says it’s terribly cold in those lands, that snow never leaves the ground." She paused, letting the spider go and watching as it crawled its way up the massive tree they sat under. "Though that is just a word of tongue. I'm sure a true Northerner like yourself would be the right person to ask about such things."

Lyria found her dagger again, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she twirled the blade between her fingers with ease. "Aye, while winter is everlasting, we are blessed with bare ground for a while, albeit very short. Summer snow is not as heavy, nor the winds as harsh. My home might not be as colorful as yours, princess, but the North is beautiful in its own way."

Helaena reached forward, grabbing Lyria's unoccupied hand in hers. Normally, the princess was quite reserved, tensing at physical contact—even from her own mother. But seated under the weirwood tree, observed by the gods, the two girls had quickly come to understand each other. In all earnestness, Lyria had been the first person not to judge her, not to question her odd sayings, nor look at her as if she had said something that should never be spoken. Their friendship, though new, was profound. The Targaryen princess had never been around anyone like the girl wolf seated with her.

Lyria looked at Helaena, her expression softening. "The North may be harsh and unforgiving, but it has its own kind of beauty. The silence of the snow, the strength of the trees, the resilience of its people. It’s a land that teaches you to be strong, to endure. And in that, there is a beauty unlike any other."

Helaena’s eyes shimmered with understanding. "I would like to see it someday. To feel the cold you speak of, to witness the stark beauty of your home."

Lyria smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. "And I would love to show it to you. The godswood at Winterfell is ancient, the heart tree standing tall and proud. It’s a place of reverence and peace, much like this one, but with a unique northern charm."

The princess squeezed Lyria’s hand gently. "You are different, Lyria. In a good way. You see things others don’t, like me, and you don’t shy away from what you find."

"And you, Helaena," Lyria replied, her voice soft, "are one of the most genuine souls I’ve ever met. Your insight, your way of seeing the world—it’s a gift."

The two girls shared a moment of silence, the bond between them growing stronger with each passing second. The godswood around them seemed to embrace their newfound friendship, the ancient trees bearing silent witness to the connection forming beneath their branches.

Before the two girls could continue their genuine conversation, footsteps approached, stopping a few feet away from them. The girls looked up to meet the stoic gaze of the one-eyed prince, Aemond Targaryen. His right hand firmly gripped the sword at his hip, while his left hand rested behind his back. He studied the scene before him: his sister’s hands playing with the Northerner’s fingers, both of them looking utterly peaceful in each other’s company. A small hum emitted from his throat, his eyes darting between the young ladies before settling on his sister, though she didn’t meet his gaze.

"The King is requesting your presence. You will have time to show the Lady Wolf our home in due course, sister. As of now, though, the day is growing late, and I’m sure our guest would be pleased to clean up before the welcome feast."

Though Aemond had finished speaking, he remained standing in front of them, waiting to be their escort into the castle. Lyria was the first to stand, dusting herself off before lending a hand to the princess and helping her to her feet. As the two of them closed in on Aemond, he offered his arms to the girls—like a proper prince ought to do.

Lyria placed her hand on his elbow, accepting his escort. However, Helaena chose to intertwine her arm with Lyria's instead of her brother’s. Aemond wouldn’t go so far as to say he was offended, but the fact that Helaena preferred to link arms with someone who was initially a stranger instead of her own brother did something to weaken his ego.

As they walked towards the castle, the air between them was filled with an unspoken tension. The courtyard was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, casting long shadows that danced on the cobblestone path. Aemond’s tall, imposing figure contrasted sharply with the delicate forms of Lyria and Helaena. The serene atmosphere of the godswood was left behind as they moved closer to the grandeur of the Red Keep.

Lyria couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy for Aemond. She sensed the hurt behind his stoic demeanor, the subtle wound inflicted by his sister’s preference for her company over his. But she also understood Helaena’s choice. There was a unique bond forming between the two girls, one that transcended the formalities and expectations of court life.

As they approached the grand entrance of the castle, Aemond spoke again, his voice a touch softer than before. "Lady Stark, I hope you find your accommodations to your liking. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask."

Lyria nodded, offering him a gentle smile. "Thank you, Prince Aemond. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated."

Helaena, still holding Lyria’s arm, glanced at her brother with a look that held a mixture of apology and defiance. "We shall make haste, brother. But know that Lyria’s company is a welcomed change for me. She understands things others do not."

Aemond’s gaze softened slightly, a flicker of understanding passing through his eye, despite not fully gripping what his sister meant.. "Very well, sister. But do remember, the feast awaits."

Helaena and Lyria walked slowly through the grand corridors of the Red Keep, the warm glow of torches casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. As they reached Lyria’s chamber, Helaena paused and gave her new friend a gentle smile.

"This is your room, Lady Stark. I hope you find it comfortable. I’ll see you at the feast."

Lyria returned the smile, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Princess. I’ll be there shortly."

Helaena nodded, her hand lingering on Lyria’s arm for a moment before she turned and walked away, her footsteps soft and echoing down the corridor.

Lyria entered her room, taking in the opulent surroundings. A large bathtub had been brought in, steam rising from the hot water. She sighed in relief, eager to wash away the dust and weariness of their journey. She carefully removed her travel-stained clothes, folding them neatly before stepping into the tub. The hot water enveloped her, soothing her sore muscles. She took her time, scrubbing her skin clean and letting the warmth relax her.

Once she felt sufficiently refreshed, she stepped out of the tub and dried herself with a soft towel. She found a small bottle of cinnamon-scented oil on the vanity and applied a few drops behind her ears, enjoying the comforting aroma. She then began to work on her hair, her fingers deftly weaving it into an intricate triple braid that joined into one at the back. Satisfied with her appearance, she slipped into a stunning white gown. The shimmering silver thread and stormy gray accents complemented her eyes perfectly, and the white fox fur that draped over her shoulders added a touch of northern elegance.

Ready to join the feast, Lyria left her room and met her brother, Cregan, in the hallway. The two of them walked in silence, the bond between them unspoken but strong. Cregan, in his dark shades of gray and black, with a mighty fur cloak hanging over his broad shoulders, looked every bit the formidable Lord of Winterfell. In contrast, Lyria shone in her white gown, a vision of northern grace and beauty.

As they entered the grand hall, they were met with the sight of lords and ladies already taking their seats. The room was filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of goblets. Helaena spotted the siblings and waved in their direction before returning to her conversation.

The Starks made their way to their seats, their contrasting attires drawing the eyes of many. Once seated, goblets were filled with wine—a more fruity and refined beverage than what they were used to in the North. Lyria took a sip, savoring the unfamiliar taste, while Cregan merely nodded his approval, his gaze sweeping over the assembled guests with a warrior’s vigilance.

As they settled in, the feast began in earnest, the tables laden with an array of sumptuous dishes. Lyria and Cregan exchanged a glance, both feeling the weight of their northern heritage amidst the southern opulence. They were wolves in a dragon’s den, but they held their heads high, ready to face whatever the evening—and the days to come—might bring.

The feast in the grand hall of the Red Keep was a dazzling affair. Lords and ladies engaged in lively conversation, the clinking of goblets and laughter filling the air. Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, was frequently engaged in conversation with various nobles, discussing matters of the realm, the North, and their mutual interests. Despite the attention, his gaze frequently darted to his sister, Lyria, to ensure her well-being.

Lyria, however, sat mostly in silence. She was a stark contrast to the animated conversations around her. Her quiet demeanor was alarming to Cregan. He knew his sister to be a wild spirit, full of life and opinions. Her silence in such a setting was unusual and disconcerting.

As the feast progressed, and dessert was served, the atmosphere became more relaxed. Most men were deep in their cups of wine, their tongues loosened by the drink. It was then that Lyria, with a determined glint in her eye, rose from her seat. The creaking of her chair drew attention, and soon all eyes were upon her. 

Ignoring the stares, Lyria focused on the royal family. Helaena, sensing Lyria's intent, gave a subtle nod of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, Lyria addressed the king. "My King!" Her voice rang out, silencing the hall. Cregan watched her, confused and worried.

"If I may be so bold and ask," Lyria continued, "it is said that Old Valyria was a place of great things, such as magic. Is that something you believe in, Your Grace?"

At this, Otto and Alicent Hightower, seated beside the king, shot her sharp looks of disapproval. Cregan’s grip on his sister’s wrist tightened, a silent plea for her to reconsider. But Viserys, intrigued by the boldness of the young lady, smiled warmly. He seemed oblivious to the discomfort of his wife and the Hand.

"Well, yes, Lady Lyria," Viserys responded, taking a sip of his wine. "The Targaryens are from a place of old magic. If there are such creatures as dragons, it would be foolish not to believe that things akin exist, no? Any particular reason for these questions?"

Cregan's grip grew more intense, but Lyria met his gaze with a soft yet determined look. In a whisper meant only for her brother, she said, "The South paints us as heathens, brother. We should not be shamed for sharing blood with the First Men. Our home was built atop creations made by the Children of the Forest. Our faith is no laughing matter, and we should not be a jest for our beliefs—no matter how old."

Returning her attention to the king, a mischievous grin played on Lyria’s lips. "It would do me great honor, Your Grace, to show you the gift I’ve been granted by the Old Gods... though I’d much prefer less of an audience for such a matter. Only if it pleases you, my king."

Viserys leaned back in his chair, clearly fascinated by the young Stark's boldness. "Such confidence and conviction in your beliefs, Lady Lyria. Very well, I shall see this gift of yours. Ser Otto, Alicent, and my sons will accompany us. Let us adjourn to a more private setting."

As the king rose, the hall buzzed with whispers and curious glances. Cregan released his grip on Lyria, his expression a mix of concern and pride. He followed the royal family, along with his sister, to a more secluded part of the castle where Lyria would reveal her extraordinary gift.

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A/N: This story will be cross-published here and on AO3, eventually Wattpad, if you see it anywhere else, please report it. On another note- I'd love to hear thoughts on this chapter, as well as feedback, but be kind! I don't normally write and usually my ideas remain that of stories told to my friend @thee-horny-thicky

[orboros]

Blood on Snow part 2

Warnings: Gutting a animal

I don't know how long this series will be, but this isn't the last chapter. Also, if anyone has any tips for getting better at typing, please share it :) I write it down physically, and then I type it on my phone. This is a pretty slow process, so I would appreciate any tips. Thank you, and I hope you find some enjoyment in it.

The all-encompassing blackness of night covered your body as the howling winds drowned your grunts and pants for air. The climb down the wall was far easier than the climb up, but that didn't mean it was easy. The woven rope dug into your waist as the icyness of the frozen wall soaked your gloves. You've neared the end now. With both Ygla and Vigyn safely on the ground. Your hand reached for your knife. The rusted blade cut the rope that tied you to Gurnard. You sheathed the blade before letting go of the rope. Pain shot up your feet and settled in your knees as you landed on the frost-covered grass. You ripped the worn gloves from your hand; thick Calluses were spilt angrily, and large Bullous blisters formed on the tips of your fingers. It hurt, but the cold air soothed your sweaty hands. Your hood came down soon after that, and strands of sweat-covered hair stuck out of the tight plaits you had put in your hair.

Ygla and Vigyn played with their axes and swords, respectively. They hit each other with comically loud whines and cries of pain. Anger flooded you; this wasn't some joke. Several members of your group had died, and now they screamed and Hollered like dogs. Anyone could hear you; on the ground, sound travels quickly, especially at night. You quickly marched over to them. Your Calloused hands soon clattered each of them in the back of the head.

"Be quiet," You whispered with a hiss.

"But Grunard said there were no crows here!" Vigyn said it in the whiny tone of a pubescent boy.

"Grunard said that so you wouldn't shit yourselves; we don't know for sure where the crows are." You looked at both of their fear-sticky faces with fury.

"Don't look at me like that; you wanted to come here; you wanted to raid. Don't shirk in fear just because the consequences of your actions have arrived." Your nose flared as your harsh words left your chapped lips. The guilty looks of scolded children came on each of their dates. It did not quell your anger, but they Had been told off enough for one day. More men and women rumped from the grass-woven ropes, Grunard being one of them. With everyone who had survived the wall now on southern ground, you all gathered together.

Grunard spoke with wide hand gestures and a hushed voice. The darkness of night made it hard to see him, but you understood the gist of the plan nonetheless. You would journey to Queenscrown and completely bypass Mole's Town. The crows often visited the women there to break their oh-so-sacred vows. The town was crawling with the black-hearted basterds. As you had a number of young ones, it was better to go straight to Queenscown.

The people were weak and easy to kill. Spending their days tilling the fruitful soil. As a result, the reward was low. There would be no fine silks or exotic spices, but there would be enough swords, axes, and armour to make the journey worth it.

Under the cover of night, everyone moved as one, searching for shelter to hide from the exposed nature of daylight. Luckily, the gods granted you all that mercy in the form of a cave. The other raiders poured into the dark and damp cave. Some slept alone, while others gathered in large piles to sleep. You decided on neither; you were too hungry to sleep. The pain of hunger crawled up your ribcage, sending the familiar growls into the quiet night. With a rake of arrows across your back and a bow in hand, you left the cave. The dark sky began to lighten as the first light came.

The squelch of lush, dew-covered grass and the melodic chirps of risen birds drove home how full of life the south was. Every inch of land is themed with life; back home on the frozen shore, most life existed in the turbulent sea. Here, it was everywhere. The grassy meadows soon turned to thick oak forests, and gentle rays of dawn gently touched the apples of your cheeks as they swept through the woodland. Birds flew through the canopy of leaves as rabbits swiftly leaped into underground burrows. But you were searching for something more filling. A crack of a twig altered your eager ears. Before your eyes found him, you knew what he was. The snap of the twig was heavy—too heavy to be a wolf and too light to be a boar. Your eyes whipped around to the large stag.You lowered your body as a creeping hand gripped one of your arrows. The great white stag didn't notice your soundless breathing and hungry eyes as it chewed on fresh grass. Nor did it notice the flying arrow until it pierced its chest. But by the time he realised it, it was too late. The beast fell to the ground with a thud. In your younger years, you would wait for the blood to drain from the beast, but now that you were more skilled, deer would die on impact. This one is included.

You sauntered over to the now-dead creature; killing had always been easy for you. The North was filled with it. Death surrounded anything that had the fight to survive and took anything that didn't. But here, where life came easy, the fight for survival was nonexistent.

Your Calloused hand ripped the arrow from its punctured heart. Blood gushed from the wound. Flickers of life still brimmed in his eyes, and your rusted blade that was once on your hip sliced the stag's throat in thick jagad cuts. It was a painful way to die, but you still needed to eat, and it was a better way to go than dying slowly with an arrow in your heart. With his life gone with his blood, you began to cut open the stag. Your rusted serrated knife first cut around the anus of the creature and freed its colon, so all its guts would come out in one piece. Your knife ran up along its abdomen, just cutting through its hide, lest you accidentally cut into its bladder and spill piss all over the good meat. You cut off the balls and cock of the stage and discarded it. Then you cut it into the meat of the stag. Down to the bone. Making a gateway for all the guts to come pouring out. With the ridge of the pelvis now exposed, you began to cut through the hide of the sternum to join your work lower down.

As you reached the end of its ribs, you cut slowly so as not to puncture the stomach. The white lining that encased the organ was next. Your blade popped open the next lay, and you dug your fingers into the still-warm stag. You cut the lining in between your fingers, revealing the assortment of grey and brown organs. You took your knife and began to saw through the pelvic bone. Thick clumps of white dust gathered at the sides of your knife. You ripped out the chuck of bone and tossed it into the thick forest. Your knife was set aside in favour of your hands, and with one hand set on each side, you cracked open the pelvis. The weight of your body made the bones crack and splinter beneath you. With your serrated knife in hand, you began cutting through the ribcage of the creature. No longer be careful with your hands, and cut away at anything attaching the guts to the meat. You cut out the heart and set it aside along with the liver and kidneys before you pulled them cleanly from the once great stag. With your gutted stag and your hands bloody, it was time to head back to your fellow raiders.

You packed up the edible organs into your bag before you dragged the creature out of the forest by the antler. Picking up mushrooms, herbs, and anything worth eating along the way. The sun had only risen slightly in the time you were away from camp. Still, the others seemed to wake up at the smell of blood. Several crowded around you as you neared the cave, and soon the stag was taken from you to be cooked. Grunard threw you a water-soaked rag to clean your hands; the semi-dried blood wiped away easily. Though some still cringe under your fingernails.

Soon the stag was cut further down and cooked on an open fire. The smell of seared venison battled the stench of sweat all of you carried. A large wooden bowl of stew was set in front of you, filled to the brim with meat, mushrooms, and barley. All of which you had gathered, and as a result, you got the largest portion. The meat was tender; it fell apart in strings against your teeth. With your belly now filled and furs placed down for you, you laid down and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The unnoticed blackness of sleep was eventually painted with streaks of colour. The pigments merged and separated; shades of green, white, purple, and brown swirled until the colours were pulled into an image. It was the cave you had settled in—the same damp stone walls, the same sprouts of vegetation in every corner. But the fire was out, with only smoke rising from the ashes as a marker of its existence. Your heart began to pump faster as the image became clearer; gone were the other raiders, not even furs or weapons to remember them by. Your eyes turned to look out at the entrance of the cave. The meadows and thick forests of the southern landscape were gone. Instead, the stone walls drifted like smoke into a large candlelit room. High stone ceilings and dark wood floors. Every part of the room was filled with more luxuries and crafted with more expertise than you had ever seen. Even the fanciful homes of Mole's Town didn't compare to this. An obnoxiously large bed sat against the back wall, pillows and blankets practically oozing from the bed. A woman lay on the bed, her white hair reflecting a sliver of light. She sat up slightly, her snow-like hair rising with her, and her purple eyes settled on you. In your skin and in your bones, you knew this was a dream. The hazeness of Everything proved it. Yet she was so clear, so real; this was something else, something strange. The white-haired woman sat fully up amongst her luxuries; more gold adorned her than you had seen in all of the men of the frozen shore combined. To your fellow raiders, you spoke the common tongue, but this was not your native tongue; words in your own ancient language slipped from your tongue like oil. The deep, guttural words brought fear to the hearts of southerners, but that did not hold true for her. Curious, unblinking eyes stayed in a heavy lock with your own.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice light, airy, and in the strangest accent you had ever heard.

"The hog," You replied as your tongue slithered back into the position for common touch.

"Hog?" She questioned, her erie lavender eyes still locked with your own.

"There is not a name for it in the common tongue. It is like a You paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

"Outside name. One you tell to strangers, ones outside kin," you said with hesitation, knowing your discomfort was clear. She was the strangest-looking and-sounding person you had ever met. Snow white hair and almost translucent lavender eyes. She was pretty, but her ghostly features and voice did nothing to sooth you. Before she could ask another question, you asked one of your own.

"What are you?" You said slowly that you didn't know if she was some vengeful spirit or a trickster here to trap you.

She seemed to think for a moment, pondering your question, unbridled with the fear you felt.

"A Targaryen, I suppose." Your face scrunched up in confusion at her answer, and words slipped from your lips freely.

"What the fuck is a Targaryen?" You said it in bewilderment. Finally, there was some emotion on her wide-eyed face. Her features scrunched up like yours had done as she thought of an answer.

"My mother says that we are the Royal House; Aemond says we are dragons; and Daeron would say we are conquerors. My father doesn't speak to me much, and when My elder brother Aegon speaks of our house, it is nothing but insults. I don't really know what makes a Targaryen—is it dragon riding, the white hair, or the violet eyes? Aemond always says Targaryens are the blood of Old Valeriya, so I would assume that's what we are."

The words dragon riding sung in your head again and again; you knew what she was. Disgust filled your heart like bile and spilled out onto your face. You had heard tales of the dragon-riding inbreeders that ruled the South. Sisters marrying brothers, uncles marrying nieces—it made you sick. Anger soon mixed with and amplified your disgust.

"I know who you are! Inbreeder!" You shouted as you ripped yourself from your furs and marched towards her. As you got to the edge of your world and the beginning of hers, you went to reach for her, but a force so potent ripped you back.

Your eyelids jumped open as you lunged yourself off the sweat-soaked furs you once slept on. Your eyes darted around the cave; the fire was still lit but had now dimmed, and your fellow raiders were still there. Just pack up to continue your journey. Your breath raged as your eyes bound from one spot to another.

"Bad dream?" Grunard said in a mocking tone.

"No, but it was a fucking strange one." You said you were too busy trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart to joke with him.

His curiosity seemed to be Peaked as you moved out of the furs and began packing up.

Well, aren't you going to tell me what it was, Hog?" He said it with a wrinkled brow.

You looked at him, and with an unwilling frown, you spoke.

"A Targaryen, you know the inbreeders that rule the south." You said this while stuffing the furs into the woven bag. He paused for a moment as his face became more serious.

"We're in the south now, Hog; the dark magic of Old Valeriya runs rampant here. A skinchanger like you should be careful; it could swallow you whole."

  Helaena

 

Helaena awoke with a jump; sweat poured from her brow, yet goosebumps ran along her skin. Her heart beated out of her chest as her breathing was like that of a panting dog. The setting sun stung her eyes; she had only meant to sleep a little while, but the constant visions that plagued her had drained Helaena. They were getting stronger and more clear. The light of the fire was out from the cold of the woman she saw. Tall, intimidating, and calculating, she is covered in thick fur and has clammy skin tattooed with foreign symbols on her hands and up her arms. She didn't set fear into Helaena's heart at first, but when the woman came for her, well, she couldn't help but shut her eyes and cover her ears at the memory. Yet something in Helaena knew the woman had a right to be so angry; something in her told her she too should be angry. Helaena never really thought much of her family's traditions; they had infected every aspect of her life since birth, so how could she judge the only way of life she knew? But in that moment, lying in bed with the setting sun illuminating the room with streaks of pink and orange, She, too, felt disgusted.

An uneasy feeling settled in Helaena as the sun set and the night began. She never really spoke to her husband or her brother. He had only visited her a few times in the night. He was always drunk beyond belief, and he cried. He always cried when they were forced to lay together. Thankfully for both of them, the visits have now ceased. Aegon rarely spoke to her, instead running off to the streets of silk and drinking anything that would dull his mind. She never understood why he did that, but now she does. It was to drown out the shivers of disgust that ran along his skin. She pulled the duvet from her and walked along the wooden floors towards Aegon's rooms. He would most likely be gone, already trying to escape reality.

As her fingers pushed open Aegon's door with a creak, her eyes Peaked in. He sat hunched over at the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes and groaning. Helaena pushed open the door fully and stepped through. Aegon's tired eyes looked up at her with a grimace.

"What is it?" He said it with annoyance.

"What they did to us was bad, wasn't it?"

Her words caught Aegon off guard, and he looked at her fully and with interest. Helaena paused, her lip twitching.

"It was cruel," She said with a crack in her voice.

Aegon took a moment to speak, and when he did, tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

"It was"

[divinesolas]

the she-bear

summary: requested; during his time in winterfell the lady of house mormont arrives to pledge her loyalty to queen rhaenyra and jacaerys grows a little too close to the so called she-bear

jacaerys targaryen x mormont!fem!reader

w.c: 1.4k

c.w: widowed reader, reader has a child, older reader, virginity loss (jace), oral (fem), a little plot but a lot more smut, p in v, breeding kink?, not proofread

a.n: freaky anons had me thinking and i saw this request sitting with dust in my box so here you go!!

perm jace taglist ! (open) @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels @itsemohours

During his time in Winterfell he did not expect to run into the lady of house mormont who pledged her loyalty to the queen rhaenyra and swore her forces would join cregans greybeards on the journey to kings landing. he was more than happy to accept her allegiance of course when asked why you had come and pledged you had said yourself that you were interested in seeing a women on the throne but nothing more.

The she-bear they called you. He grew to understand that title more and more he knew you you were stubborn, fierce and he had even heard rumors that you were a skinchanger and could become a bear but he disregarded these rumors even though it had been your younger sister spreading them. The more and more time he spent with you the more he grew to enjoy your presence. maybe a bit too much. He had heard about your previous marriage and then death of your late husband leaving you alone with a babe only a year old but you seemed to not mind and stated you had moved on past his death.

He began to crave your presence more and more when he was around you, he even had begun actively seeking you out instead of cregan as he was intended to do. He knew he was walking a fine line with you, the stolen glances, the lingering touches, he had been debating with himself to ask you for your hand knowing it was wrong, he would need his mother approval but it grew to the point he could not hold himself back.

He had been out flying, he had not known it would begin to ran a couple hours into his flight and he ended up landing at bear island where you had just returned and was offered a place to stay for the night until he was to fly back to Winterfell in the morning. He had been in the room you had provided him with, attempted to rid himself of his soaked riding clothes leaving him in just his tunic and his under pants a knock on the door startled him. He almost wanted to ignore it in his half dressed state until he heard your voice.

“I have an extra pair of clothes for you to rest in my prince.” he does not know what posses him to open the door fully but he enjoys the way your eyes leave his face and trail down his body with a light hum. He takes the clothes from your hands and sets them down on the table right next to the door, the two of you simply staring at each other for a few moments. You take the first willing step forward and he takes a step back, you take another one forward and lightly shut the door behind you.

The back and forth you two have been playing finally reaching its breaking point when you place your hands on the exposed skin of his neck and chest and he lets out a shaken breath. “We should not, i could never defile you like this.” as much as the words feel like venom on his tongue he finds himself speaking them anyway. He watches a small teasing pout form on your lips while you don't bother to remove your hands. “So you’re not interested in me?”

“You know very well i am my lady but we are not married,” despite his talking you look as though your not interested simply untying the strings on his tunic slowly as he breath quickened. he made no move to stop you. “Do you want to marry me my prince?” You pause right before the tunic falls all the way open. You finally look up at him and he finds his resolve crumble as he looks into your eyes. “Yes i do my lady.”

He expects you to kiss him or run your hands down along his now exposed chest but you simply walk past him and towards the fireplace where you throw another log in to keep it alit. “My lady?” You keep your back to him while you tug at a couple ties on your gown and he watches as it falls lightly to the ground and you kick it softly off the bear rug on the ground turning to face him he is unable to take his eyes off your bare body. “i am no longer a maiden but i hope i please you my prince.”

He moves like he is in a trance ridding himself of his tunic as he stands in front of you grabbing your sides gently with a shaky breath. “You more than please me my lady there is no one more beautiful than you.” You smile gently at him and lead him to sit down on the rug with you, the heat if the fire hits on his wet skin nicely as the two of you are pulled into a heated kiss. you fall on your back as the kiss grows more and more heated and his hands fondle your breasts as he leaves a wet trails down your neck.

“my prince.” “call me Jace please.”

He kisses down your stomach paying special attention to leaving loving kisses over your stretch marks on your stomach and thighs before he wraps your legs around his head as he begins to lick at your core. Your hands tug at his curls while your throw your head back and toes curl. The feeling of him prodding around inside of you has your hips grinding into his face while your press his head closer to you as if that was possible. He made no complaint while he listened to you moan. you soon enough release while a couple tugs of your clit and you calling out his name without a care in the world and he kisses back up your body while removing his bottoms leaving him bare above you.

You lightly tug at his plump lips with your own while you smile at him. “when did you learn how do to that?” “I read a couple books about it.” You laugh while he pauses and a flash of nerves crosses his face. When you grab his face gently he gulps, “I've never done this i um i don't,” he gasps when you sudden flip him over and you smile down at him. “Then let me lead, are you okay with it?” He face is flushed and the light of the fire hits him perfectly and he nods eagerly.

He lets out a shuddering moan when you begin to lower yourself onto him and he watches himself disappear into you. He sits up and the two of you hiss at the added friction, you give him a couple minutes to relax knowing this is his first time doing this sort of thing and he shouldn't be rushed. His head falls into your neck and sucks at the skin there while his hands grip your hips to try and get you to move. You understand him and while a light laugh you begin to softly move onto of him.

His whines grow louder and louder the faster you begin to move and your bodies rock together in sync while the room fills with your moans and skins hitting against each other. He knows why men murder to get to do this, why they throw themselves into dirty old brothels just to get a taste of this. Hes sure no other women can compare the way you do however, he wants to do this everyday he does not know how he had survived so long without doing this.

“want you to release in me Jace, want your babes Jace.” he whimpers and moves his hips up to meet yours and you gasp. He wants that, he wants to see you swell with his babe, his babe, a babe he knows is his, he will make sure its his when he watches as his seed drips out of you, keeping you locked in here until he's sure its taken root reputation be dammed. You tug at his bruised lips while you release and he follows quickly after keeping himself tightly presses inside you to make sure not even a drop spills out.

You brush his wet hair away from his face and press a light kiss against his lips. “You really want me to have your kids huh?” You expect him to argue or roll his eyes and but he contently nods and you can feel him swelling again inside you at your words which causes you to laugh.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Brother Mine (Winchester!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester PLATONIC)

@xweirdo101x Hello, hope you are having a good day/nightI was wondering if I could request a Sam and Dean having an older brother (maybe by one or 2 years)  maybe they haven't seen reader in a couple years. The brother's finally get to see reader when he pulls them out of trouble?

(okay, author's note in that Sam is 22 at the start of the show and Dean is 26. The show spans the same amount of time as in the real world, technically, so Sam ends the show at 37 while Dean ends it at 41. Meaning this elder brother is probably 28 at the start and ends it 43. Good lord, that show went on for a while lol)

"So, explain to me why the two of you chuckleheads are in jail in freaking Kentucky? Because last I heard, Sam was going to college in California and you were still hunting boogeymen with Dad."

The two young men in front of you share a glance as you bail them out of some podunk town's drunk tank.

"Dad's... in trouble." Sam sighs, finally, to a harsh glare from Dean.

"Good riddance to bad assholes." you growl, and Dean clenches his fist

You and your little brothers don't exactly have a great relationship.

With the better part of seventeen years of your lives dedicated to hunting what lies in the darkness, spurred on by your domineering and obsessive father, Dean always has blamed you for "abandoning the family" and "breaking Dad's heart" because you left the life at nineteen and left seventeen year old Dean and thirteen year old Sam behind.

You did the amateur boxing circuit for a while before you were hired on to an indie security company and ended up catching the eye of the owner who trained you until you took over, eventually buying the company and running it.

You know a lot of your money was sent to help pay off any expenses Sam had, but you don't know if it was used for that or blown for motel stays or alcohol or sawed-off-shotguns or salt slugs for Dean and John.

You tried to stay in touch with Sam, but it was awkward. And he wanted space away from "family."

So you know neither of them would ever contact you unless something real bad happened (and apparently Dean's grudge was so strong that he wouldn't even inform you that John went missing)

Though to be perfectly honest, it wouldn't really matter to you anyway, and that's a matter to discuss with your therapist.

"I can't believe you called him." Dean grumbles, like a child.

"Sam apparently knew you'd need a responsible adult." you snark, and he grimaces. "Now, care to tell me why you're road-tripping?"

Sam looks at you. "My girlfriend. Jess. Whatever got Mom... it got her too."

"And you think that Dad is close to tracking it down and that's why he vanished." you sigh.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell us that there's nothing that goes bump in the night?" Dean sneers, looking at Sam.

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna tell you that it's not your job to chase it. It's not your duty."

"We save people. We hunt things. It's the family business." Dean growls.

"Jesus, Dean, do you hear how you sound?" you groan. "It's this kind of obsession that I tried to get away from! A terrible thing happened to Mom, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it. It's not our fault, and it's not our responsibility to chase whatever did it down!"

"It's just gonna keep hurting people. We've seen it happening. It's gathering other people like Sam."

"Fuck." you growl.

Dean senses an in. "You were even better than me, back in the day. Remember when you ganked that skinchanger?"

He says "you were only 14" with as much reverence and awe as you do disgust and shame.

"I can't convince either of you to... let the chips fall where they may?"

"Nope." Dean pops the "p" sound.

"Sorry, no." Sam adds.

"I don't wanna kill things anymore, Dean. Not even bad things. But I do care about you both. So here. I'm going to help you, on one condition. We're going to all come back to my place in California, and Sam is going to apply to fucking law school, and you're gonna think about what you really want with your life, Dean."

They think.

They look at each other.

They nod.

"Welcome back." Dean grins.

"You better not still drive that shitty Impala and listen to crappy 80s rock."

Sam winces.

[bookloover35]

Legolas Greenleaf X Fem reader- Skinchanger.

Legolas Pov:

War, with a very unhappy ending.

That's the only thing that will happen if we don't get more help.

But who?

Gandalf: I know one person who can help us win this war once and for all.

King Theoden: Who.

Gandalf began to tell us that seven years ago he met a young girl and a skinchanger and that they are still best friends to this day and apparently she saved his life and a very famous dwarf king Thorin Okenshield and his company.

He also told us that she managed to wrestle away 10 goblins who tried to chain her.

Legolas: I remember her.

King Theoden: But I thought all skinchangers were dead.

Gandalf: Not all there are some left out there but very few and she is one of them.

Aragon: Is she strong?

Gandalf: In her wolf form she is stronger than an entire army and in her normal human form she is stronger than a thousand men.

Also more he talked about her also more I remembered her, I never got the chance to talk to her but I definitely remember her strength.

I remember when she fought the white orc by herself.

Gandalf: And believe me when I say this she is also very good at hand on hand comebat, it also includes swords, archery and throwing knives.

Gimli: Gandalf, can you get her here?

Gandalf: of course i can.

TS.

Yns pov:

Run faster I have to save Gandalf that was all I could think of while in my wolf form, how lucky I am so much faster like this.

I'm not going to lose my oldest friend and someone who is a very dear family member.

I have known Gandalf ever since I was little he knew both my parents my mother was a very beautiful wood elf and my father was a Skinchanger.

Legolas Pov:

Yn: Gandalf in your message you said it was easy to find here luck that when I'm a Wolf my sense of smell becomes a thousand times stronger than normal.

We all turned towards the young woman's voice and as soon as I saw her all the memories came back her long red hair and her eyes which were two different colors.

(If the hair doesn't match you, you can think that she has the same hair color and length as you).

Her left eye was Silver and her right eye was purple wow she is beautiful.

The wizard and the wolf girl hugged each other and then Gandalf said.

Gandalf: Yn, thank you for being able to come and help us, I had actually planned to come and see you but this happened instead.

Yn: You are family, of course I would come and help.

They both then turned around and we all got a good look at her and she was dressed like she was ready to go into battle, she had black and blue armor.

Gandalf: King Theoden, let me introduce my dearest friend Yn Stormheart.

And Yn this is King Theoden, and the others are Aragon, Gimli and Legolas.

She waved slightly at us and said hello.

Then the questions started to be asked and then I mean there were a lot of questions and then we asked if she could show what she looks like as a Wolf.

She smiled at us and asked us to back off and before you could even blink she had transformed from being a young woman to a wolf the size of a full grown horse.

I have to admit that I am very impressed but one thing is for sure that I did not want to make her angry in this form, she looked at me and I could hear her voice in my head.

Yn: Are you impressed?

Legolas: Very, and I have a very good feeling that we will win this with your help.

The end.

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.25

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - The women of the Riverlands start to weave stories around their betrothed to mixed results. The tapestry is almost complete and finally, the first couple is called to marry in the sept.

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, adult language, period typical misogyny, condescension, adult language, feelings of shame, feelings of guilt, manipulation, benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2.2k

Yes, this is a full Martyn pov but it had to be done. The women all know too much right now but that's okay. Bewildered man is like in my top three favorite categories of guys. As always any of the lore is informed from https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Main_Page with some of my own creative liberties worked in.

“Every Eye but One”

“Surely you’ve heard the tale, Martyn? The way an unkindness flew down to chase a herd of horses from the shallows. Ten and hundred they flew, blotting out the sun with their wings.”

She was speaking just loud enough for everyone else in the hall to hear her words. Martyn wanted to roll his eyes at her, so much for subtly. But the atmosphere in the room started to perk up at her words so he indulged in what was sure to be a disaster orchestrated by the women of the riverlands.

“A lie, the herd was ten thousand strong. The very wind inside their veins, they held firm.”

He yawned, pretending to be tired of old news. And it was an old story, one he’d heard a million times growing up. The Brackens and Blackwoods had been feuding for so long they had several mythical stories, each wilder than the last, about their rivalry.

“But this group was full of skinchangers, Blackwoods behind those eyes. Blood thirst was their first and foremost desire.”

Martyn’s eye bulged out of his head at her words and he nearly choked on the sip of water he’d taken. He cut his gaze towards his betrothed, giving her a critical look. It was one thing to speculate about a house engaging in magic practices, it was another to admit it in front of the public. Sure, it was a myth story but he knew the riverlanders would be reading into every word she said. Was that her plan?

“The ravens rained down upon the chestnut herd, clawing and pecking. They ripped and tore, a tangle of feathers and hide.”

He interrupted her to finish the story as he’d heard it a thousand and ten times before. “On the horizon the sun cracked open and the ravens burned into nothing.”

She smiled at him and said, “The heavens opened and a flood swept the horses away.”

In both versions there was only one end, everyone perished save one lone survivor. It was meant to be discouraging; it was told to children who were overeager to die for a feud.

In unison they said, “I’ll hold you close tonight, cause soon they’ll come and close every eye but one.”

It made him feel melancholy to say the words. It reminded him of a golden childhood that was lost to him now. A special few years he couldn’t really appreciate until they were over and gone from him. It colored his words with a tinge of sadness.

“The Eagles over Seaguard”

Martyn’s cousin Marcelle Grey spoke up after Alysanne’s story. But she did not speak about her own house like he’d expected. Instead she began to tell a rather queer tale about her soon to be husband's house.

“Oh Martyn, what an interesting story.” Her tone did not indicate it was interesting at all but that this was simply a way to transition into her own story. He watched in a sort of detached amusement as she went on. Elmo Tully could not get any angrier with him than he already was. Martyn was interested in the show for once, having already done his part in it he could sit back and wait for it to unfold.

“It reminds me of a story I’ve heard whispers about. About a flock of eagles who flew down from a mountaintop nest, where they lived together, and began plucking the sealife up. This went on for a while, you see the sea is always hungry.”

Martyn could see the man beside her, Colmer Mallister growing more taut the longer she spoke. Marcelle paid him no mind though and continued speaking as if he weren’t there.

“Because the sea is always hungry, it is always plucking up little birds who wander too close to the waves. Eagles never learn though, too proud of having wings. Soaring above is a wonderous thing, until overconfidence makes them swoop too low.”

Even Martyn knew this was a direct attack about the Mallisters continual battle with the Ironborn. Marcelle was laying it on thick and he wondered when Colmer would snap.

“It wasn’t until a fierce eagle, scarred and agile, brought back a creature of the deep that things grew chaotic. The mountaintop nest infected with the smell of the sea and a pervasive need to look down on others began to permeate through the aerie.”

The Mallister lad was on his feet at that, looming over his cousin, breathing heavily. Martyn quickly made to stand himself, clumsily reaching for his sword. Alysanne grabbed his arm though and hissed at him, “Don’t be stupid! Watch.”

So while holding his breath he did. Marcelle was obviously alluding to some family drama concerning the Mallisters. He was trying to recall which Mallister was the scarred eagle but nothing came to mind as he watch the two argue.

“Little mice only think they’re being looked down upon because they’re so close to the ground. Something so tiny should be glad to have a warrior in the sky.” He spat at Marcelle who looked unconcerned. House Grey’s sigil was of a tiny gray little mouse on a field of green.

“Who said anything about mice?” His cousin had replied ruefully looking at her husband to be as if he were embarrassing her.

Colmer had glanced around the room as if just now remembering where he was before he cleared his throat and stepped away from Marcelle before he sat back down.

“Redfork Maid”

Bellena Mooten spoke next and Martyn was a bit afraid to hear what she had to say. He was briefly relieved that he wasn’t the one to marry her before he then felt bad for Ser Joth Piper who did have to. The man had seemed decent enough to him. Bellena was beautiful but she was a handful. She was slippery about it too, just like her house sigil. She was a fish flipping and swimming away, slimy and fast. She knew when to play her hand and was excellent at reading other people.

“Oh enough of this animal talk. Who cares about birds? Let’s talk about a story worth hearing.”

Bellena knew how to shift the atmosphere of the room in just a few words. Immediately all of the tension that had gathered around them was banished.

“Now, how about a story of something fun and magical. Oh! I know. Let’s talk about the story of the Redfork Maid! Everyone loves to hear that one don’t they?”

Bellena did not wait for anyone to confirm or deny whether they wanted to hear the story. Martyn had personally never heard the tale. Despite their close proximity, he had never been to Pinkmaiden castle. There’d simply never been a reason to but from what he could see the Piper’s were alright folks.

“In the beginning of everything and everyone, the gods formed the RedFork, we all know this.”

Nods went up around the room. It was then Martyn realized how successful this campaign was, all of the men were tuned in listening intently to the story. He couldn’t help but to spare a curious glance at his soon to be wife. What was her angle? She had said last night whatever they were planning would cause Lord Elmo to be upset with the women. So far he didn’t see how that could be.

“The water was alive and happy. Flowing and moving, people splashing about it. It was alive with fish and plants. But the river was not alive as itself. A sad thought in a world full of physical beings. How the river longed to touch and to hold. Not to only be touched and held, to take on a less passive role.”

Martyn found himself just as spellbound by her words as the others.

“One night the mother heard the river crying out to her and took pity on the Redfork. Gathering some water and star light, together came out a beautiful maiden. Her skin was soft and pink, her hair dark as shadows and a gown of silver and blue draped around her.”

Martyn could see the lady in his head because he’d already seen her before on the banners of house Piper. Though Bellena’s story was more modest and beautiful than the Piper’s sigil, it was still discernible.

“That’s why I think the Piper’s must be perverted to have stripped her naked on the flag.”

There was the bite Martyn had been expecting and it was not wrapped in flowery language like the others.

“Oh yeah right Bellena like your fish headed ancestors didn’t root in the Redfork half naked beside mine, looking for the same riches.”

The snort Alysanne let out at Ser Joth’s words caused Martyn to laugh and soon they were all laughing.

“From these Beginnings”

Lady Violet Smallwood winked at Martyn before she began her story. He had done a double take, confused as to her motives. But she’d only grinned wickedly at him before moving her attention away. Her betrothed, Ser Harry Fisher, looked at her warily. The mood wasn’t as tense as it had been before Bellena’s story but it wasn’t as light either.

House Fisher was also a mystery to Martyn, he wasn’t even entirely sure where they were located. He would never admit that but it did grow tedious remembering every house in the riverlands. He was worse when it came to neighboring lands. Ser Harry was a tall and powerful man, he was much taller than any other man in the hall. Lady Violet was a stark opposite to him, small and petite. The only thing they shared in common was their mahogany hair.

“I know you're all dying to know what I’ll say.” Violet paused, staring wistfully out the window. “I just want to take a dip in that water.” She sighed.

Martyn nearly threw his hands up as if to say, yes let's go! The room was stifling as the sun beat down on them. Slowly and with deliberate determination Violet got up and began opening the windows one by one. The only sound being the clack of wood against itself as she opened them. When the first bit of breeze hit Martyn he couldn’t have been any more relieved.

She did not immediately return to her table but stared outside for a moment. Then she whirled around quickly and dashed back over to her partner. She leaned over to whisper to ser Harry, her hands cupped around his ear to ensure the words remained private. Martyn waited in anticipation, watching as various expressions made their way across the man’s face. When he glanced at Alysanne it was apparent by her gleeful expression that she knew what was being whispered. Curiosity burned in him but he held himself back from asking.

At last Ser Harry stood abruptly, just as the Mallister man had. But he did not stand threateningly over Lady Violet. He’d simply turned away and walked over to the now open windows. But not before Martyn saw the splash of color in his cheeks. He was either embarrassed, angry or aroused. Given the current atmosphere and the weird plan taking place beneath it all he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t all three.

Martyn was rather bitter that the Smallwood lady had declined to share the story. The house was notoriously tightlipped about the history of their house and castle much to his annoyance. Shanda was always working to unravel the house when she had a chance. He wished his sister were here now to tell him. Surely she’d been privy to all of these details.

Wendell Wayn spoke up next, sounding equal parts scared and angry. “I don’t want to hear any stupid story from the likes of you.”

Lady Darla Keath looked at him, disgust written across her features. “And who would want to write a myth about a family as unremarkable as yours?”

“Why you stupid little bi-“

Martyn’s cousin Rebecken was up and on Wendell before he could finish his sentence. He’d grabbed the man by the scruff of his suit vest and wrenched him up.

“Come on Wendell. Before ser Joth gets up to toss you again, let’s take a breather.”

Any complaint he might’ve levied against Rebecken for bringing up his earlier humiliation were cut off by him being dragged from the room.

That left Lady Elyana Derry alone without her partner to tell the myth to. It was just as well, as the mood to share was gone. The room fell back into silence but it was less anxious now. Martyn wanted to stand by the window but knew he couldn’t turn his back on this room full of unpredictable and ravenously angry couples.

It was almost a relief when Lord Elmo entered and called the first couple to the sept. He watched as Lady Smallwood skipped over to stand by Elmo. Ser Harry moved in a slow and measured manner. He wondered again sincerely where his sister was and why she hadn’t come to see him. Whatever game they were playing be damned, it was his wedding day for the gods sake. Now that the room was quiet again his anxiety ramped back up double fold. Something was definitely a miss.

[cyrojelly]

The Hobbit x magical girl! Reader

- Alrighty then you kawaii lovelies this is yet again another modern person meets middle earth because I live for that!

-You were out fighting crime with your cute self, your outfit swaying dramatically in the wind, you can practically hear your theme song playing in your mind, your basically golden!

-Until your enemy pulls some frankly disrespectful tactics out of nowhere and next thing you know your careening to a portal and everything goes black!

-You wake up in your normal clothes with whatever you used to transform laying on the ground next to you that and about a few dozen eyes looking at you, the scream you scrumed practically couldve woke up the dead.

-You then learned you were in the presence of the company of thorin oakenshield you then had a mild freakout as the villain you were after was most likely still wrecking havoc in your world unfortunately your powers didnt come with teleportation.

-"Well I'll be damned" "Language!"

- Yeah this sucked royally but atleast you didnt get stuck in the shadow realm!

-Moving on you basically have to explain to them your a magical girl and of course it's like pulling horse teeth.

- "So I use this tool and it helps me transform" "So your a skinchanger!" "No."

-The groups a bit wary of you since A. They don't know who you are B. You claim to not even be of this world and C. Just what in mahals name is a "magical girl!"

-Dori thinks your a witch and some are convinced your lying about your kawaii origins that is until you all are cornered by orcs and they witness your transformation and the absolute destruction of the orcs who DARED to corner you in the first place!

-They are now convinced you are a magical princess of some kind and were absolutely enchanted by your powers and heroic convictions to protect others.

-Overall, it's a fun time since you get to be yourself, and the dwarves won’t judge you at least too harshly! (they think your outfit is a bit too short for their tastes)

-The elves are a bit similar and believe you are a descendant of a ✨️goddess ✨️ and welcome you (atleast the Rivendell ones mirkwood elves are more cautious and suspicious of you)

-Thranduil will most likely attempt to win you over to his side since he views you as an advantage (sneaky sneaky)

-"A human with magical abilities? How peculiar. " "Uh yeah, can I go now?"

- I can see your powers being very helpful to the group, especially for fighting. I mean, who else is gonna vaporize the orcs in a second? Fili? Yeah I thought so.

-Anyways stay beautiful, you adorable thing you!

(Thank you for Reading!) -Neo⭐️

[luna-redamancy]

Happy 4 year Tumblrversary! ❤️ If you’ve got time, would you please write a little something for Beorn using prompt 16? Love you and your work ☺️

Hi, lovey! Thank you so much! Also- thank you for all your help through the years with prompts, ideas, and beta-reading to help me figure out where to go with a fic. I hope you enjoy this:

“Listen to me,” Beorn held your face in his hands, heart melting as you looked up at him with teary eyes. The orcs were so close, the growls of their wargs making you tremble. 

“The second I get out there, you run out the back stables, down the hill, and toward the thicket.” 

Beorn’s voice was calm despite how nervous he was, practically trembling himself. 

“Climb the big oak tree and get up as high as you can, and stay as silent as possible,” He instructed you, looking you in the eyes while stroking your cheekbones with his thumbs in calming circular motions. The wargs were getting closer, and you just began to realize how in danger you two were. 

“What about you?” You couldn’t help but ask, wanting to know why he would risk himself in this situation, why he would send you on your own instead of going with you.

Instead of responding to your question, Beorn pressed his lips against yours. His kisses earlier this evening were full of wild passion and love, but now? Now they were laced with fear and pressing ever so gently on your lips, pausing to savor the feeling. Who knew when…Or if, he would ever get to lay eyes on you again, much less feel your lips press against his own.

“I’ll get you as much time as I can,” Beorn said once you two separated, closing his eyes to relish the skin of your face beneath his hands before pulling away from you entirely. 

“Do you remember my instructions?” He asked, pausing at the door. 

“Yes,” You said, voice wavering as fear coursed through your body. 

“Good.” He grunted, turning to look at you. 

“Just in case… Remember this.” Beorn gave you a rare smile.

“I love you, my gentle mouse.”

“Bear–” Before you could say anything else, he flung the door open, body rippling as he shifted into his bear form. Tears stinging at the back of your eyes, you fled the house. 

You never got to say you loved him back.

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[xenoz76]

A new Fanfic. ✨

Trollhunters: Tales of Arcadia. “Don’t Poke the Bear ...Or Her Sleuth” 

Summary: The fact that you know that you’re the last of your kind is hard to cope with. When Y/n arrives home after her long deployment, she is immediately swept up in the shenanigans of the Arcadian Trollhunters. No heads-up or a "Hey, there's trolls living under us and we just found out." As she discovers this vast civilization beneath her feet, she is constantly mistaken for another person named, “Ursa.” But what if this ‘Ursa’ person was really her, but from the past? 

Pairing: Aaarrrgghh x F!Reader 

Includes: Violence, Gore, Mature Themes, Non-Con, Swearing, Shape-Shifting, Eventual Fluff and Love  

Wattpad Link

AO3 Link

[blankdblank]

Durin Sitting Pt 6

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 -

So I got some questions about how this story would have gone so here’s the finished plotlines that I originally had to finish off this series. Hope you like it. :D

...

Things had never been better. And with three naked Durins inside the cage the elder Wolves eyed Fili, Kili and Ori in their dart from the cage that the confused Dis sat outside of with finger on the tape to the book you had been reading them and eyes fixed on her sons’ backs. Not since they were small boys did they miss a shift and not without additional stress and confusion to the week as they sat downstairs just in case they would shift again. Simply listening to the book while their mother sat down in the chair brought for her, refusing to leave them no matter how far along she may be with their baby siblings. She knew, their father and grandparents knew how terrifying the first missed change after lessons had gone.

While they were forced to shift once a month tips on Wolf mastering had been asked in each family outing and evenings in to fold you into the clan even more. Again methods seemed to vary from how the Elders had mastered their Wolves yet on your second time sitting for the Wolves a blackout from a storm had the cage opened and that was your opening. For the first time the scent of earth, grass and everything green and in between enveloped each of the Wolves who raced on frantic paws to soak in the wilds around them. Just hints of white fur on the ends of your tail were spotted through every swivel of their heads to sniff and search all they could.

For whatever they could have imagined their Wolves would do to wake up on their beds in an open cage to dirt on their bodies inside the clearly mopped basement to the fail of the cameras there were no answers to what happened. By scents alone ignoring the dirt they had all been outside and had they been in that form they could feel the urge to shift their tails in glee and bound around to the group flashes of memories of discoveries on the land. It was a start, and on the second night Thrain was there to watch the oddly content Wolves who continued to chatter on about all they would double check upon their next weather aided escape. Their Wolves were more than just calming and had grown excited rather than agitated and all of their lives around the nightly changes improved in the relief of it all.

Things had never been better. At least until three words were whispered tearily after the fifth public official outing amongst the clan had just barely begun, “Oh no, Mom.” For charity an auction was to be held in a lavish event hall in a notorious architectural marvel of a sky scraper and turned away to keep from weeping openly in public your body turned to face Thorin’s chest. Over your head his eyes locked with his father’s for a silent agreement and back he stepped with arm around your back.

Lowly he hummed post press of a kiss to your temple, “Let’s get you back to bed.” Just in and now out again back to the hotel suite for the both of you that Thorin had called ahead to have food delivered and in the back of the car he kept you close to his side humming, “Adad will ensure we bring her home for you.” The quiet continuous tears from you was his only marker that you were still lost in the painful discovery and sea of memories with the woman killed for sport and draped on the wall for praise to the ego of the hunter and owner of her pelt.

Not until you got to the bed and there was no one else in ear shot did you speak the most painful words he’d expected to never hear you say, “When we get home I need you to leave me alone.”

To a knee at your feet he collapsed with hands that cradled yours on your lap with tearful eyes locked on yours, “Please let me help you with this. Don’t push me away. Don’t abandon us out of pain.”

The next tear down your cheek that fell to his hand drew his gaze that snapped up again to your saying, “You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me.”

“I, can’t,” you managed to crack out in the scrunch of your face, “There are rights. You can’t be there. None of you.”

His lips parted in a sliver of relief that you weren’t ending your relationship with him, “How long do you need?”

Another set of tears fell as you squeaked back, “Three weeks.”

He wet his lips and inched closer to your lower legs asking, “And that is no contact? Or can I call or text you?”

“It has to be complete silence outside of my clan.”

“But,” he shook his head and said as empathetically as possible, “I know clan laws are strict, but you would be alone, for three weeks to face this.”

Softly you sniffled and said, “My uncle messaged, he will be home when I get back.”

“That is good,” he sighed out and lifted your hands to press your curled fingers to his lips in the drop of more tears.

Squeaks crackled in your voice through saying, “I ruined your evening.”

Again he shook his head, “You ruined nothing. Adad will handle the evening without me easily. Would a bath help?” Dinner, a long soak in his arms came before the tuck of you into bed to sleep in his arms while he laid awake in turmoil for the forced three week break and over your head he watched Dwalin ease the door open to peek inside.

Hushedly he shared that the pelt was purchased and the purchase card with information on it with who the hunter was along with the former owner, carefully it was being loaded up to be shipped to your address and

Hushedly he shared that the pelt was purchased and the purchase card with information on it with who the hunter was along with the former owner, carefully it was being loaded up to be shipped to your address and then slipped out again with a pained glance to your blotchy tearstained face rested on Thorin’s shoulder. He would hold you as long as possible and keep a hand on your leg all through the breakfast that a weak smile of a mask was held to not spoil the full mood of the trip. One toast from the clan and again you were held, this time by several of the clan who shared they would be with you in this however required and long after when you were granted time to be with them again.

.

Three weeks. At the masked gates the car stopped to your warning while the enchantment on your land had again barred visitors with no view of your home at all in its own mirage enforced wall of open fields swaying on the breeze. Regrettably a warm lingering goodbye kiss was trailed by a tight embrace. Deeply Thorin inhaled to fight a sniffle to keep you from crying again and his hands left your hips on a mission of their own. From around his neck the chain with a pair of rings he had recently begun to wear was removed and eased over your head and underneath your curls. “I want you to borrow this.”

Wide and full of tears your eyes met his in a pained but curious silent plea of what they meant to the loss of your voice. Lowly he rumbled as he drew your long braid from under the chain, “I can’t explain these yet. But I’m here.” He said with a gentle press on the rings now seated above your heart. “Until I can hold you again, I’m here.” You nodded and simply closed your eyes to lean into his chest for a final hug before bags were lifted and between two colorful soap rainbows of curtains the gate and house was viewed then vanished again from sight. Against the car you saw him in a stare laced in tears imagining that he could watch your walk up to the door until you were safe inside.

He didn’t see the bags drop however or your run and crash into the chest and arms of your uncle beyond at ease to have you with him again. Time did not help, distance did not make the heart grow fonder it made them burn and bleed and post crack of the nailed lid to the crate being opened as you should onto the floor you fell, fingers clutched into the fur now woven around your body in a decades ached for mock embrace from the woman who carried you. Tears and pain. Three weeks of sacred rights were to be carried out and the glimmering tears melted into the pelt that a wind coursed through rippling its fur and gave life to its shape to melt around the cosmic cloud of a polar bear that in its own glee folded around your now curled body lost to a fit of tears.

She could not be here in her other shape but as a bear you were granted time and by sun and moonlight this was how you could say goodbye. Until the final week. Until the blood and the bonfire. Mud, pots of it, to sacred words that made the earth tremble to the sinister glow from the bare skin on yourself and uncle. Blood had been shed and now payment was due, mud once brown ran blood red in each cakey slide of hands to coat your torso’s and arms in sacred runes, symbols and streaks to the polar bear’s roars now joined by those of your animal shaped ancestors. Deep into the earth the curse spread like roots of an unseen tree aimed direct for the skyscraper and dozens of mansions in a country far away. Sharp and sudden the pelt was torn from your mother’s cosmic form and in the eruption of flames it was gone to seal the curse of vengeance and justice to the instant drop of all the mud from your flesh that left you naked and cold with eyes still locked on hers in the few moments you had left until she was called away. Just a tap of foreheads and three tears and she was gone again.

.

Across the table to a silent break for tea your uncle smirked in notice of the rings on the chain now rested on the table from around your neck those rights had forbidden speech outside of the sacred words or those to your mother’s soul until she had passed on. “Who gifted you those markers?”

Up your eyes snapped to his with another tear that fell down to your newly added baggy shirt that you had taken from Thorin’s bag on the way back from your last trip that pooled on top of your crossed legs. “The necklace is Thorin’s. He couldn’t come or speak to me so he said I could borrow it.”

His smirk deepened, “He must love you very deeply to have been wearing clan markers.”

That had your eyes drop in a lift of the rings that since his wearing them always seemed blurry and hard for your eyes to bring to focus to know what markers your fingers felt in slides across them. “Is that what they are? I can’t see what’s on them. Pesky eyes won’t focus on them.”

Lowly he chuckled and said, “No, Wolves are very careful in their tokens for Mates.”

“Wol-,” in a look up you gasped in a sudden realization. The distance between the Wolves and the Durins and why the clan was never around when you were required to sit for the pack. “They’re Wolves! That, how did I not see that?! Right in front of my face down to the pack using their own names.”

He chuckled again, “Do they? When I trained Thrain and his daughter to master their Wolves they both chose different names in their Wolf form. How have you been bonding to yours? I am far more intimidating you must be making ample progress at your size.”

“I’ve been reading to them. They have a cage they lock them in at night.”

That had him huff, “I told them not to keep the cage. Old habits I suppose. Good choice something morbid or depressing to hone their focus for hidden meanings I would presume. Have you taken them out yet?”

“Once. Power went out. We’ve gotten a good but through Little Dorritt.”

“Lovely choice. And that run should have worked wonders.”

“They seemed pleased, beyond pleased really like they’d never seen the woods before.”

“Can’t imagine they would have. Wolf clans are quite protective of their young and don’t wish to harm anyone or risk a chance to.”

“No way to live.” You said in another glance to the rings on the chain you now knew were his way to build up the courage or rights to ask you to become a member of his clan. To change the subject from a heart racing topic of such a serious step with the stunningly adoring man that you’d yet to trade firm loving sentiments with yet you asked about the torn patch of earth beside the cottage you’d noticed since your return home. “What happened to that torn patch? That is not part of the rights.”

“No,” he said with a clear of his throat to your glance at the new burned in trail of stars that sat between your index finger and thumb on the back of your hand to match the diamond trail along the arch of your right foot from your father’s funeral rights. “I tore up the foundations for your new cottage.”

“Oh, you want me to move...” escaped your lips in a pained murmur that brought his equally star scarred hand to fold over yours rested on the table.

“No, I don’t. This home will become rather crowded soon enough.”

“Because of Thorin?”

Again he chuckled and answered, “My friend Luna agreed to be my surrogate decades past,” you nodded, “And since her Mate passed last season she has reached her last heat and agreed it was time to aid in my cubs. We will have twin cubs by next spring.”

“Oh that’s such good news!” You replied with a wide smile that spread his.

“So you will be requiring your own home seeing as the Wolf has made himself at hone by the scent of things. You may bear more of the clientele while I mind the cubs. And mine will grant you ample practice for when your own cubs arrive.”

“We are too soon for cubs.” You retaliated only deepening his grin.

“Three weeks without his Mate and that may change drastically. I have cleared some trees we can begin on the cottage in the morning. Have the whole thing completed by month’s end.”

The week came in handy and tucked in the back of the barn you smirked at the hoard of supplies he had been gathering on his travels just for this. Animals all in joint efforts to a common goal and the porch and exterior of the home were built up. A plumber had been arranged for the following week along with a group of friends who would lay the tile and carpet where it was wanted as in your sleepless nights doors and shutters for the windows were carved by you to Beorn’s glass blowing hut being lit up to make all the door handles you could ever make use of.

 *

12:01 am : Off to the zoo today but I hope your day goes well. :)

Wide eyed the beyond pissed boyfriend of yours who had been experiencing rage fueled shifts after each half day at work that had him on his back inside the cage turned his head to the lit up phone laid just on the other side of the bars. Right away he popped up to your ring tone and rushed to a knee on the ground to snatch the device up and plop back with a creeping grin to your first contact. Onto his lap he dropped the phone to run his hands over his face and through his hair. Every muscle in the hunch flexed and stretched to a joint release of pressure of all had been kept inside for weeks now where his Mate was suffering and outside of his aid as he had not built up the nerve to secure your bond as one of his clan. A move that would have joined him into your clan as well had you accepted. A move he couldn’t force to simply hold you while you mourned.

Self loathing for the lack of that step and internal lashes to his mental self had backed his Wolf into a corner and to the slightest trouble at work had him nearly tearing out into full fury mode with fangs tail and all for everyone to see until his clan had calmed him down. So half days were mandatory and in his own funk he had banished himself to sleep down here in the cage. Where he belonged, without you he was just an animal, a furious heartbroken animal who simply wanted his Mate, his true love there were so very many signs that he could very well die if the fates destined you to part.

Head back up he inhaled and got to typing, “How are you?”

“I think I broke my toe.” That had him pause a moment as for the puzzling response until you added, “I walked into the tile stack.”

“Tile stack?” He muttered and typed in a try to recall what you could be referencing in that house.

“My uncle and I have begun to build me my own cottage. Plumbers come today.”

“Why do you want your own cottage?” He asked with a twinge of hope in his chest it could be for privacy for the both of you or a possible dwelling for the both of you he might be invited to move into one day should he live up to any test you grant him.

“My uncle found a surrogate he will have twins by next spring. Wished for me to have my own space as to not be crowded out of the cottage.” Vague, but a possible hint to a logical invitation that and the former grump grinning at his phone. “How are you?”

Sore, broken, hollow, left with a crater right where you would fit in his arms and heart on top of the obvious rage that threatened to roast him from the inside out had he not heard from you. “I’m in the cage” he sent then added, “without you.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you responded now knowing how deeply you had effected the love of your life clearly in a struggle against the control of his Wolf, now tougher than ever in the week of the full moon.

“I don’t blame you. Adad has been hounding me to gain control for decades now and I have been digging my heels in refusals.” He paused then asked, “How are you? When do you get off work?”

“Headed in about ten minutes. Be back by noon. They need a night feeder for an expecting Wolf.”

“Can I come for lunch? Adad has me on half days.”

“The walls will be dropped when you arrive.” That had him smile and wish you well today and turn to curl up on his cot to get some sleep still clutching his link to you to do so just in case you changed your mind and wished to talk more so he wouldn’t miss a moment.

 *

‘More on the devastating phenomena that has wiped what was imagined to be an endless family that reached back to the beginnings of Middle Earth off the map after this break.’ Impenetrable roots had torn through hundreds of homes and had brought a sky scraper to the ground with every living member of a historic clan being taken with them in the apparent sinkholes that ate every ounce of their homes and those inside except for innocent guests who were able to scramble out of the dirt to safety from other lines. None of them had the answer, save for one elderly Man, the keeper of records of Gondor and aid to their King Arathorn who spoke the words none dared to admit, ‘This was not the first time those who are known to cross the Ruun and their kin have been erased and eaten by the earth.’

Nonsense, no one had the strength or stomach to say that as the world of Men reeled in reminder of old magic that had since been shielded from them and lurked in every shadow, under every bed and inside every fable they adored and absorbed since childhood. This has happened before and had never been explained beyond the same symbol on a rock to be found in the center of every memorial site left unbuildable after each devastating attack.

A rock with a single drop of a blood red something in the center of it and nothing else. A warning. That all those clans with known hunters of great beasts had been wiped out of existence. They may not believe in Fairies or that Vampires or even Trolls and Goblins existed yet while they dressed as werewolves and skin changers for annual festivals no one dared to try and impersonate or search out the Ruun. Not a one. They were not to be questioned or harmed or there would be devastation to pay. The Men as usual would face a break of caution and then be back to their careless ways in no time. While each magical being laid their respects and under the light of the first moon since the attack filled baskets to lit lantern boats they set loose loaded with fireflies and small carved tokens that now was littered on ribbons strung throughout your flowering tree branches all through your property to light your nightly work in the sea of fireflies admiring their new home. Tokens not for those killed on the collapses but for the unknown Guardian they all mourned the precious soul taken without reason by such cruel beings they were forced to live amongst.

 *

“Morning,” Thorin said in taking his seat at the table that turned everyone’s head to his pleasant mood.

Vili, “Well don’t you seem downright chipper. Who are you and why are you wearing Thorin?” Answered by a sharp exhale by his brother in law in taking a piece of toast.

Dis, “Especially after you almost bit me yesterday when I tried to give you lunch through the bars.”

Thorin gave her a playful glare in return for hers proving he was miles beyond where he had sunken to without his Mate. “What you get for putting your fingers inside a cage with a wild animal.” He accented with a fake snap of his teeth at her across the table that had her roll her eyes.

Dwalin, “Spill.”

Thorin grinned saying, “Jaqi texted me just after midnight.”

Thrain, “Oh how is the dear one?”

Thorin lowered his mug of coffee from a sip and answered, “Good it would appear. Though possibly with a broken toe. Her and her uncle have been building her a second cottage on their land it would appear. He has obtained a surrogate and conceived twins.”

“And?” Everyone asked at the same time deepening his grin.

“There seemed to be a hint of an invitation in the future.”

Thrain, “Well that is simply marvelous. I am proud for you son. When are you seeing her?”

“Today,” he sighed out, “She accepted a night feeder spot and was off to work shortly after we spoke but will be home by noon and accepted my request to drop by.”

Fili and Kili asked, “Are you going to propose?”

Glares were sent their way and Kili pointed to him saying, “Hey! He’s been looking like death for days now! He needs to get hitched before his fur falls out and he’ll be left to gumming the wedding cake when he finally gets around to it.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and said, “I will offer my marker, just offer, give her time to consider all that entails. Even though she may be building this matter in clans is delicate at the time.”

“She loves you how could she refuse?” Fili said in another slice of his food.

To himself Thorin chuckled and murmured, “She’s told me in so many silent ways. Still, patience.”

.

Fiery and passionate was how he wanted to greet you when he entered your cottage porch. How did he find you instead? In the kitchen while he stood face to face with a massive naked man freshly turned from his bear form with free hand clutching the kilt that once their handshake was through was tied on around his waist to make the newly arrived guest welcome. Into the couch he settled across from your uncle and the pair of them spoke in what grew to be a friendly banter upon the mention of Thorin’s awe for the hives, blooms and orchard.

Pie in hand to the couch you moved and against Thorin’s side sunk in a sideways lean sharing the dessert by use of the spare fork on the plate. All the while his other arm kept you against his side with pure joy in his heart to your every nestle and nuzzle closer. Plumbers however took your now furrow browed uncle from his chair in their arrival down the driveway. “Enjoy your rest little one, I will wrangle this task into shape.”

Soon as the door between you closed Thorin tilted his head down to ask you, “Are you sore still? Your foot?”

“Not broken. Just bruised.”

“Not what I asked.” He said with a reach for your curled legs to lay them over his lap. “I’ll rub your legs and feet. Extra careful on the toes.”

“Are you okay?” You asked in his next glance your way when he’d taken hold of one of your feet.

With a nod he replied in a sweet smile your way, “I am with you, how could I not be?”

You didn’t have and answer and simply turned your head to look around the house while his gaze was focused on your legs and feet to avoid the numerous olive bruises lingering from your hard work on the cottage. Up to your knees his hands moved along with his body that inched closer to not cause pain by pulling you closer instead. Out of the small bundle of flowers you’d pulled from the window that Tuki had kept flying into and nearly ended up knocking into your breakfast a single purple and yellow daylily was lifted. Right behind his ear a sliver of his brushed back hair that a grin eased across his lips at the braid you worked there to hold the flower behind his ear.

“You know I love you right?” You asked a hair above a whisper.

Instantly his eyes lifted and in a smooth move he turned your legs off his lap to twist and slide you onto his lap mid loving kiss to relax back into the back of the couch. Warmly his hand cupped your cheek to linger there until its dip to trail along your neck to the slide of your hands up his chest and onto his shoulders. Around the back of your neck underneath your hair his fingers found the chain clasp there he unhooked and caught it with his other hand in its drop to your lap. The moment his lips left yours tenderly his nose stroked yours on both sides between gentle taps of his forehead to yours. “So very much so, my darling love.” For a blurry check your eyes opened to his multicolored blob of a face with glimmers of stunning blue from his own timid check.

Again his hand moved to cup that same cheek in his shift back to get a clear view so he could say, “The moon pales in comparison to the beauty of your soul. From the moment I first saw you I knew we were kindred souls and destined to be one, or had dared to dream such heavenly things as a love such as yours. Even the words don’t seem enough, I love you in such a deeper feeling than love. These past three weeks, burned, to not be there for you. And I understand, I do. I wished to say it then. Merely I didn’t wish to add stress to the moment.”

“How could you stress me? Doesn’t sound possible at all.”

That had him smirk and circle his fingers around the rings in his palm to find yours he brought forward. “I wished, for so long, to share my feelings and intensions. My clan has strict rights of their own and I would wish to offer you myself. And this, if you aren’t familiar with our laws is not a proposal of marriage, this is so very much more. A joining of clans, I will be yours and you mine, we will be whole in and out of our clans a part of the both of them.” Hastily he wet his lips, “And there will be another proposal later, but this is a devotion of our beings.” Into your palm on the hand he eased down from his shoulder he pressed the ring into your palm he folded around it. “I am offering you myself. And please take time, as much as you need. And when you are ready you place it on your index finger. As much time as you need.”

Down your eyes sank to the ring now focused and clear. The edges wavy around the knot bodies ended at wolf heads aimed at one another mid howl etched into the mithril band with each gap filled in by shimmering emeralds and small onyx stones to fill the swooped lines around the face to fill in the eyes, cheeks and ears. “It’s beautiful. Must have been expensive.”

Lowly he chuckled and said, “We are all gifted upon adulthood the rings for our Mates. It is yours, always has been.” Again you looked at the ring and simply slipped it on your finger that won you a warm kiss the both of you lingered in until the cuddled embrace with his forehead pressed to yours. Lost for words the now beaming puddle of hearts could only let out a breathy chuckle to your blind addition of his ring to his finger behind your back.

(Just imagine the gaps in the design have gems not metal.)

.

Two days later, the Durins had insisted you take another couple weeks off to ensure you were settled again as per the usual bereavement leave their company. The absence held the technical label that had those in the lower levels with access to trigger the fetching of a card that was handed around to be signed along with a fruit and chocolate arrangement. The zoo however treasured your situation at home and used it to their advantage and that of their latest rescue, a silver fox pup that had to be kept separate from the others due to its overly playful nature and size twice of the barely weaned litter that had arrived inside their mother the month before it had. The fox had been dropped off and was pleased to have bunnies and puppies and the hounds to play with safely in your haven of a property.

Evening however came to a cusp and while Beorn was a town over to confirm the order of tubs he had chosen from a craftsman he was good friends with who made them by hand to sit perfectly inside the raised platform around the tub to give you that sunken feel you loved without burying it in the ground as the house was on a solid stone platform that joined with Beorn’s. All greatly expanding the bunny haven that was underneath your home. Sinks had already been made and delivered long ago and the craftsman was pleased to repay the clan that had kept his baby girls safe with charms and pheromone diluting tonics for decades now and had handed over the first for his young grandchild to continue the important friendship.

A third stroll through your floored, piped and wired home you imagined the walls being plastered and smoothed into the mix of mint and indigo shades around the peach kitchen with each room settled to utilize the sunlight and views around your home with the pantries settled in the dead on view of Beorn’s cottage to keep from spoiling someone of any views of your heaven. While his was a single floor yours was two stories to grant you a higher view in all directions from the undecided rooms on that floor with a wrap around balcony that gave you tons of arches and pillars for more climbing flowers and vines to make their way up to the turf roof to help insulate the place no matter the weather. Already like his home you could picture the shaggy grasses and vines that from certain angles vanished into the scenery like your own tiny Hobbit Holes to form a hill of its own and it made you proud to have helped raise it up yourself.

Chimneys lit up to welcome the sunset would just finish it off right for the first night in and to another stroke of your finger across the ring from Thorin obviously a sunken armchair matching yours would be settled with him in it. But that was a discussion far off even with the ring. Taking trips and sleep overs were one thing but to move in together and to be honest you’ve been anxious to have the place to yourself to break it in and warm it up to visitors.

A phone call split into your daydream and from your palm against the bicep on the opposite arm your hold broke with a grin to the expected contact from Thorin surely freshly returned home after a busy meeting across town. “Hey handsome, meeting go well?”

“You said you could handle the Wolves without a cage right? Were you joking?” The stress in his voice evident and parted your lips.

“No, I was serious. What’s happened?” You asked shifting weight from one foot to another.

“We got stuck in traffic and the moon’s rising soon and it wants out, I need your help.”

“Alright, do you need me to come over?”

“No, we’re nearly at your house.”

“I’ll see you when you get here.” From your empty cottage to your uncles you strolled with phone hung up to make yourself some tea. “Nearly,” you sighed, “How far away is nearly?”

The wolf whistle from Tuki outside alerted you to the cars that had come down the driveway. Three sips was all you had gotten and you set the mug down to head to the door that once opened revealed Thorin in the front of the line of young Durins who strolled in at your step aside. “Are we alone?” Thorin asked in the tug on his tie to begin the process of stripping naked.

“My uncle’s at a craftsman for my tubs. Just me and the fox pup the zoo asked me to watch for them.”

Outside the sky had darkened entirely with hints of the soon to rise moon and from that you turned back to the now nearly naked bunch that had organized their layers on top of the coffee table with shoes tucked underneath it. “I am sorry. I wouldn’t do this unless it was absolutely necessary. You can control it, you are certain?” Thorin asked with eyes fixed on yours in a pained plea and hope that you were being truthful and he wouldn’t end up attacking you by mistake and sealing you to painful shifts out of your usual form that like other shifters who had been mauled were unable to ever turn to their natural form again and often were disowned and cast out to be adopted by their attackers for decades of repairing the damage to make them feel welcome and secure in their new reality.

He didn’t let you answer and didn’t have much of a choice to the jaw dropping split of his collarbone. Tightly you clenched your lips and up your fingers curled against your lips withholding your urge to cry in the painful ripple of bones and muscles adjusting underneath the layers of fur that grew over the bodies of the silver eyed Wolves that all looked you over. In their midst the young brothers who stood with hands over their groins and sheepish glances your way, Fili broke the silence by saying, “This makes three moons now.”

“You haven’t changed in three moons?” You asked and he shook his head, “Well that’s a plus.”

Kili said, “To an extent. Still, I guess we can get dressed if you like. Don’t want to over run you.”

That had you smirk and say, “If you would like to shift on your own you are welcome to. You’re quite docile even if you don’t believe it.”

The pair glanced at one another and drew in deep breaths with eyes that shut in a means to shift on their own only to flinch at your move closer with hands raised to cup a side of their necks to guide their heads straighter. A few subtle tips and the brothers both melted into their other forms, one with bright blue eyes ringed in silver and the other with hazel ringed in silver for a stunning first where the duo were fully in-tune with their Wolves. “Not bad for your first try,” you said to the pair who eyed their silver eyed relatives who once they had circled you to sniff then begin a search through the house to inspect your dwelling.

Another sip of tea was necessary and a few later Thorin had found you with a curious once over and rise up a bit on his back feet to sniff the cup you had drank from. Dwalin, Ori and Nori were next to lift up and sniff the mug settled onto the counter to Thorin asking, “Where is the bear?”

“My uncle is at a friend’s house.”

“Hmm,” Nori said in a turn of his head.

Ori asked, “What is that smell?” Inching closer to the half door with the top folded back granting a view to the yard.

“Well that’s a bit of a loaded question, we have bee hives and an orchard and gardens and even more animals in the forest and a stream with fish that I can catch for your supper.”

Dwalin, “We are free to run here?”

“If you like. Just don’t eat anything but the fish if you can help it.” You said in the turn of the knob in your hand to open the door for the pack.

Thorin however did not move and asked with a puff of his chest clearly showing off the ring he’d removed to set on the chain still around his neck that he refused to remove. “Will you be running with us again?” He asked gruffly in a foot shifting request with eyes fully on you as if the Wolf was willing to beg if necessary.

“Sure. I can show you around.” To the living room you strolled and added your things to theirs until you reached your ring and Thorin’s eyes from over the back of the couch with a ring of blue in the center of the silver drew attention right away and had you turn to fetch a spare bit of ribbon you made a necklace that the ring was hung around your neck. The sight alone of the ring there even in your change had his tail wag in a deep knowing that the pair of you were bound. Around the couch to his side you trotted and joined on the path to the now parted Wolves who giddily got to exploring on each pathway in the new lands. Miles of new things and a stop to fish where Fili kept hold of your necklace to ensure it wouldn’t be lost you dove to catch and toss the fish up onto shore until each Wolf had their own pair of fish they carried back once you wiggled the necklace on again post drying shake.

Once home on the deck by the grill you lit up, shifted back in the apron hung by the door each fish was cleaned and deboned for the Wolves that ate every bit of the meat and organs you warmed up for them in the process of burning the scales, bones and heads. Against his try to nudge one of his fish your way Thorin huffed and ate the offering only once he saw that once you’d gone inside a dinner of your own was fixed up to be eaten in their joint plop on the ground around you to his place seated, chin on the table to speak with you. From apron to the discarded clothes again you changed and closed the doors eventually freshening up to climb onto your bed the pack joined you on. Sunrise soon enough came and to grumbled the Durins’ set alarms on their phones awakening naked in bed, except for Ori, Fili and Kili still in Wolf form who in the groggy squints of their relatives through a stubborn huff at your body’s try to remain asleep.

Torn between not waking you with hands on your hip and back from the doorway Beorn’s voice turned their heads to the Wolf trapped trio in their waking stretches on top of their sections of the bed. “Morning, I have breakfast ready you must be hungry.” In a glance over the trio that bounded off the bed and trotted closer to him he crouched saying, “Ah, look at you halfway to control already.” Hushedly in a rumble he gave them tips and the trio were soon on a stroll to the living room. Up he stood and smirked in his turn to leave Thorin for a few more moments of cuddles.

Nice and sweet on your cheek he pressed his lips and hummed, “Stay in bed my love. I will come by later.” Again he kissed your cheek in his ease off the bed afterwards he turned to ensure your contently purring self was covered up once again without his body to warm you in his absence.

Beorn in the kitchen once again dressed Thorin joined them with ring slid on his finger to complete his full look and flashed him a quick grin. “We got stuck in traffic.”

Beorn shook his head, “No explanation necessary. You are always welcome. Little One’s efforts are certainly paying off with the young ones in your pack. And do not let that dampen your moods where efforts are concerned each Wolf has their own stride.”

Ori asked, “All she had done was sit with us and read, how is this possible?”

Kili, “And that run, we ran once before last night.”

Beorn chuckled answering, “Trust. Trust in her, yourselves and your Wolf. Methods vary, and freedom upon occasion can work wonders. Explore new surroundings outside of a cage and the Wolves grow stronger and you with them.”

Dwalin, “So, if cubs were raised out of a cage then by adulthood,”

Beorn shook his head, “Cubs are different. Teens and older only or they won’t understand the complexities of it all.”

 .

Soon enough they were off to work and had shared what Ori, Fili and Kili had shared on what had occurred in the night. Baby steps had been taken of control where their Wolves had been growing stronger and bolder by the month. This generation would be stronger and more certain of themselves and their own magnificent prowess. Yet Thorin for all his admirable pride sat timidly and walked as if on eggshells with daily checks on your new home that was now being plastered and soon to be painted led up to a weekend of furniture shopping. Baby steps would complete your home and get him one step closer to the question that would require his grandmother’s ring his parents had gladly given him just for that purpose.

All the same he smiled to the internal reminder from his Wolf of the sight of your Tiger form with paired rings hung around your necks. Together you would build a future that one day would be shared, one day with adorable children of your own with question of what sort of animal forms they could hold. Questions, plans and daydreams all started with an offer for lunch. Down the driveway he drove with a bag of food and some wine with smile spreading to the sight of you in shorts and t shirt splattered with stains from plaster and stains for the molding. A wide smile spread across your face just warming his heart instantly to the dance of stray curls that swayed across your face on the breeze. Once parked out he climbed just basking in the scents of the honey hives and orchards with distant echoes of the future, the first fire you would light here that he would love to cuddle up with you to enjoy, evenings in, late sunlit mornings, and the giggles and footfalls of children to come.

All –

@himoverflowers​​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​​, @thegreyberet​​, @patanghill17​​, @jesgisborne​​, @curvestrology​​, @alishlieb​​, @jogregor​​, @armitageadoration​​, @fizzyxcustard​​, @lilith15000​​, @marvels-ghost​​, @catthefearless​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​, @c-s-stars​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​, @mariannetora​​, @shes-a-killer-kween​, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm​

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac

x Thorin – @evyiione​, @deepestfirefun​, @queenoferebor​

[laisselfreemaiden]

The Skinchanger(Fili route p.1)

Pairing: Fili x Skinchanger!Reader

Warnings: Violence and Spoilers!!! And small au

A/n: Okay this one was pretty fun to write lol I almost didn’t wanna cut it off. Hope you enjoy! Elvish is italics, Khuzdul is bold. I had to fix some mistakes that were left in the movie and book. Enjoy!

   After Bilbo had gotten all of you in barrels and Bard found you and snuck you into Lake-town and you helped defend Bard’s house when the orcs attacked and you protected the children, you go outside for air. What is happening in Middle-Earth? Why is this happening now of all times? Your mind turns to Kili inside. The orc arrow had been poisoned, it’s obvious with how much pain he’s in. If you had let your mother teach you healing when she was still with you, maybe you could help. But now...you just feel helpless. Luckily Tauriel could heal him.

   “What are you doing all on your own, lass?”

   Fili walks up beside you, leaning against the railing.

   “I thought you would stay with your brother,” you murmur quietly, pulling the hair framing the sides of your face back into a small braid at the back of your head. You have sweat beads making it stick to your skin from fighting.

   “Ah, he’s blabbering nonsense about that she-elf in there.”

   A smile cracks on your face. “Is someone jealous?”

   His eyes widen in surprise at your comment. “No! Why on earth would I be jealous?”

   You shrug, bending slightly to lean your forearms on the railing with him. Because of your parents, you’re about a head and a half taller than he is, but it doesn’t seem like it bothers either of you. Well, that you know of.

   “We’re so close to Erebor. Me and Kili have never seen the old home of our people,” he says quietly.

   You smile again. “I have never been this far from home. I suppose it is an adventure for us both.”

   “How far do you go usually?”

   Your head tilts slightly as you think. “Usually...I do not even tread into Mirkwood. I stayed in the sunlit parts of the forests to hunt, so really...I suppose not more than a mile or two away.”

   “Then you are very far from home,” he chuckles softly.

   “Is that not what I said?” You chuckle along with him.

   You truly hope that you can help win back the dwarves’ home. The dwarves you already know you would fight for until you couldn’t anymore when you first heard of their quest.

   “Fili?”

   He hums in response.

   “When it comes to it...I hope to fight at your side. I know you all would do the same if the roles were reversed.”

   He smiles and nods. “I hope you can keep up, then, Mizim(jewel).”

   You don’t know what he said in his language, but by his tone, you know it must be something nice, at least.

   “I hope you can keep up, meldir nín.(my friend[meldir is the male friend word apparently])

   Everything is chaos around you. Elves, Dwarves, humans...all killing and being killed by Orcs and possibly each other. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised. Thorin’s cousin, Dain, has come to his aide, which basically meant to kill the Elves. Bilbo has been cast out by Thorin for giving Bard and Thranduil the Arkenstone. You couldn’t blame the little Hobbit for doing it, though. Thorin’s gone mad since you had all arrived here. He also hasn’t been seen in the battle by you as of yet. You also lost sight of Fili and Kili. You’ve been fighting on a thought of only one thing.

   Fight for the ones you love, not yourself, for you know you will always lay down your life, but never risk those you care for.

   You never fought so hard before.

   A pit in your stomach keeps building as you run back to the mountain’s paths. Your animal’s thoughts grow louder with each thump of your feet against the stones. Each second it inches closer, the feeling your father had described the changing as. And, for the first time since this quest has begun...you’re scared.

   Prayer after prayer leaves your mind as you race an unknown timer. Every muscle in your body burns with exhaustion, but you can’t stop. Not until you find the rest of the dwarves.

   “Kili!” You scream as you see him looking up at a cliff above him. Your eyes follow his.

   Thorin and Bilbo are watching...Azog hold Fili above the cliff as he threatens the line of Durin in Orcish. The swelling of your thoughts and the knot explodes as your weapons fall to the stone and ice at your feet. You claw at your scalp before everything goes dark and still.

   Claws scrape the ground as a black blur shoots past Kili and jumps to the top of the cliff with a snarl. With another leap, the furry beast tackles Azog to the ice, sending Fili sprawling, but out of the way of the pale orc’s sword. Glimmering white teeth close on his sword arm and tugs, tossing him slightly as it becomes a dangerous game of tug-of-war. A kick to your jaw makes you yelp and release the weapon, but your nearly glowing eyes stare him down, nearly daring him to move.

    A yell makes yours and Azog’s head turn to see Fili throwing an axe at the pale orc with as much force as he can muster. Your large ears perk up at that and you watch as Kili runs up to help and Thorin runs down. You turn your attention to the orcs surrounding you all now, deciding that the three descendants of Durin could take Azog.

   You yelp again as an arrow finds its way into your upper back leg, your body starting to change back to your human form. With a howl, you fall on your back, human hands grabbing your calf. Pain shoots through every nerve in your leg to your brain and you cry out, catching a few orcs, Azog’s, and the Dwarves attention.

   “(Y/n!)” You hear Fili yell to you, making you open your eyes. “Catch!”

   You see one of his swords flying towards you, as well as orcs coming for you as well. Catching the sword is easy. Standing is the hard part. You do end up being able to get up and swing it, decapitating two before you start feeling tired again. Luckily, by then, Thorin has defeated Azog and the brothers come to help you. You drop Fili’s sword and nearly immediately fall to your knees, hissing in pain as your calf burns and bleeds.

   “Mizim, please,” you feel strong arms wrap around you as your eyes close. “Uncle!”

   “Get her inside Erebor. Now.”

[stormkobra-5]

Moon Boys

[Main Masterlist]

Batons and Unicorns: You, a new and shy addition to Avengers Tower, are a mutant with the ability to shift into animals at will: you're Skinchanger. Thing is? You're mute, and much prefer the company of your fellow animals to humans, even the Earth's mightiest heroes, which kind of alienates you. Until you meet Steven Grant, the other new addition to Avengers Tower.

|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Not As Planned || Promises || Meet the Parents || Oh What a Knight || A Long Expected Party || Easter Eggs || Escapade in Egypt, Part 1 || Escapade in Egypt, Part 2 || Perfection || The Whitest, Brightest Wedding of All || Next Steps || Little Moments ||

More as-of-yet untitled stories for Batons and Unicorns are Coming Soon

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Banks of the Nile: Long ago, Ammit was imprisoned in stone by the other gods for her ways of premature judgment of souls, ending in a surge of dead in the Duat whom had not yet reached their time. In today’s world, her new Avatar, Arthur Harrow, is searching for the scarab-compass that will lead to her tomb so that he may revive her. As the Avatar of Anubis, you are tasked by your god to find and locate it first, even if it means crossing the path of Khonshu’s Avatar Marc Spector-- an old enemy of yours who doesn’t seem quite himself...

[Series Masterlist]

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Red Handed

|| **Part 1 || **Part 2 || **Part 3 || **Part 4 || **Part 5 ||

Egyptian Knights (Moon Boys x fem!reader)

**Tease (Steven Grant x fem!reader)

*Can't Sleep (Moon Boys x gn!reader)

**Quickie in a Closet (Steven Grant x fem!reader)

**First Aid (Moon Boys x fem!reader)

*Parents' Love (Moon Boys x fem!reader)

**Stealing Moments (Marc Spector x fem!reader)

**Hold Me Close (Moon Boys x fem!reader)(Steven Grant)

**Don’t Let Go (Moon Boys x fem!reader)(Marc Spector)

Ballistic (Moon Boys x gn!reader)

**Puzzles (Steven Grant x fem!reader)

**All That Matters (Steven Grant x fem!reader)

**Phases (Marc Spector x fem!Reader)

Headcanons:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28

Blurbs:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Spookable September 2022: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Imagine teaching Steven how to spar with a lightsaber

[wildwarcat]

Hello!! How are you? I was wondering if I may request a Legolas x Reader where reader is inhumanly fast and strong, but appears quite dainty? (Maybe she lifts someone off the ground by their neck and Leggy is just ????) And Reader has to explain that she’s something supernatural? I love Supernatural readers, it’s my favorite trope :D Anyways, feel free to ignore!!!

At the moment, I'm not ignoring any requests that have already been sent to me. However, the turn around time for requests may take a bit longer due to me being a full-time college student. Translations are at the bottom, btw. Enjoy! 

P.S. With the new copyright bullsh*t going on with the Tolkien Estate, it should be noted that all credit for plots, characters, languages, really anything that is familiar to you, belongs to the Tolkien Estate until the works of J.R.R. Tolkien become public domain. I own nothing familiar to you.

Something Wicked (Legolas x Skinchanger!Reader)

Summary: During your pursuit of Merry and Pippin, a run-in with some rogue Uruk-Hai reveals abilities previously unknown to the Hunters. And your abilities seem to have caught the eye of a certain prince.

You were always adept at keeping who you were well under wraps. Your ‘other side’ had been the reason for being exiled from your home village and leaving you wandering alone in the North. But there was just something about the Uruk-Hai that made you lose control of yourself.  

Maybe it was the fact that they had just slaughtered Boromir and stolen Merry and Pippin right from under you. Maybe it was because Saruman, a man whom you once trusted, had created an army of Uruk-Hai in the name of Sauron. Or perhaps it was because you were now forced to chase the horde of monsters across Rohan on foot and had been short on food and sleep for days now. 

Whatever the cause for your frustration had been, it didn’t matter anymore. What did matter was the fight in front of you. A handful of the Uruk-Hai had decided to slow you down, stopping you and the Hunters at a small outcropping of rock. And though your skills with a sword and shield were admirable, you soon found yourself weaponless, your shield splintered and strewn across the rocks. 

A pair of the ugly beasts had you cornered between the outcropping’s cliffside and themselves, forcing you ever closer to the cliff’s edge. Beyond where you were, Gimli and Legolas were keeping themselves entertained, creating a head count of the monsters they killed, while Aragorn fought on his own below the cliff, trying to keep his eyes on the horde that carried the Hobbits. 

You felt a foot slip underneath you, but caught yourself just in time before you were sent over the edge of the cliff. You had nowhere else to go. 

“Silly little human,” one of the Uruk-Hai growled, “Time to die.”

‘No.’ You heard your other half say in your head, ‘Not today.’

Your eyes flashed silver, and suddenly you found yourself watching your actions from a distance. You let out a vicious roar, your face shifting to that of a black wolf, your limbs turning to paws, your teeth turning sharp and jagged. 

When Legolas and Gimli finally found themselves out of Uruk-Hai to kill, they both looked up to see you now towering over the pair of creatures that had cornered you. 

“By the Gods, is that... Y/N?” Gimli asked, his axe falling from his hands. Legolas stood frozen in place as you grabbed one of the Uruk-Hai with your teeth and threw him over the cliffside. Your silver eyes turned their attention to the second creature, who dropped his battle axe and ran. You moved to run him down, but Legolas had snapped from his stupor and sent a single arrow through the beast’s eye, bringing him down before you reached all fours. 

You growled, your eyes locking on the elf. He shouldered his bow and held up his hands. 

“Y/N, it’s us. Your friends. Please... come back to us.” He gently pleaded. 

You snarled, bearing your teeth as he began to step toward you slowly. The fur on your back began to stand up as you began to crouch. 

“Y/N, please. It’s me, it’s Legolas. Gilgalad, come back to me,” the elven prince begged, “Ceri- ú- let hi radag take cin awaui o nin.”

The growling stopped, you straightened up on your paws and cocked your head. Your wolf form seemed to understand Sindarin, though your human side did not. 

“It’s listening to you, lad!” Gimli called out, “Keep talking!”

Legolas stepped ever closer to you, extending his hand to you, “Im mel cin, Y/N. Im gar- an months. Im tur-'t bróg na lose cin like hi. Please, mel nin, come back to me.” 

Your eyes softened, your ears flicked gently in the direction of the dwarf and the elf. Legolas stepped forward, closing the gap between you. Cautiously, he stretched out his hand, allowing you to meet him by pressing your head into his palm. You stood for a moment in silence, before releasing a deep breath and feeling your body shift. Legolas withdrew his hand and in moments, you had returned to your human form, fully clothed with only the silver of the wolf’s eyes remaining, though that too soon faded away.

From behind you, Aragorn’s grunts and hurried footsteps drew your attention. The heir of Isildur came to a halt some ways away from you and Legolas, a tired smile upon his weary face. 

“So you’ve finally told them?” He asked you. 

“Showed them is more like it.” You replied, “Though I had hoped I could restrain myself until we had caught up to the hobbits.”

“You knew?” Legolas asked, pointing his gaze at Aragorn, “You knew all this time and said nothing?”

“It was not my secret to tell,” The ranger answered calmly, “It was Y/N’s.”

Gimli rested himself upon his axe, “Well then don’t keep us in suspense. Out with it!”

“I’m a skinchanger. One of two that remain in Middle-Earth.” You explained, doing your best to ignore the awestruck stare that the elvish prince was sending your way, “The other, Beorn, resides between the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood, taking form of a great bear. My family’s ancestral home lied within the territory of the wargs. It is because of them that I am all that remains. But you have nothing to fear from my wolf; it will not harm you. It craves only the blood of wargs, orcs, and Uruk-Hai.”

With that, the dwarf was satisfied, hoisting up his axe and following Aragorn in the direction of the Uruk-Hai still in possession of Merry and Pippin. Legolas made to follow them, but before he could take a step, your hand made its way around his arm. 

“Did you mean it?” You asked, your voice trembling ever so slightly. Legolas arched a brow at your question. 

“The wolf. It translates for me.” You clarified, your eyes pleading, “Did you mean what you said?”

The elf smiled and pulled you to him, pressing a gentle kiss into your hair, “Every word, mel nin. Every single word.”

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Translations: 

Ceri- ú- let hi radag take cin awaui o nin -- Do not let this beast take you away from me.

Im mel cin, Y/N -- I love you, Y/N.

Im gar- an months.  Im tur-'t bróg na lose cin like hi. -- I have for months. I can’t bear to lose you like this.

Mel nin -- my love

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Wolf Like Me

Eskel x shapeshifter (f)reader

Summery: After saving Vesemir's life one fateful day in the late autumn does he agree to bring you back to Kear Morhen due to an injury you sustained while saving him. Living there for a couple months with the old Witcher and the horses does he soon warn you of winter and all the Witcher's that will be arriving soon. Curious about this upon the arrival of more and more Witcher's will your heart be quickly tested when it meets a certain man with a fishhook scar.

Warning: blood, monster killing, humor, fluff oh man fluff, witcher nonesense, and smut (fair warning it gets spicy)

Word count: 9773

Masterlist

Winter is here at last seeping her cold fingers deep into the land of this great northern country. Although you feel no chill upon your hide, no snow to weaken your movements, no ice to freeze your bones. You're warmer then most in these frigid temperatures, like a dangerous torch light in the forest untouched by the frost, unmaimed by the deep freeze.

Always on the move. Never to rest.

The pads of your paws press into the snow as you run silently over white powder and roots, moving always you go, swiftly over land, under trees. Never one to settle in one place for too long at a time, not that any tavern was really your taste to begin with. The people there, no one ever gives you a kind eye. And well, the ones that do are never given with good intention, they can all burn for all you care.

Not even your own family wanted to keep you around, they loved you you're sure of that much, but they are afraid. They always have been and for that cut into your heart have you chosen a sort of exile. To live in the wilderness alone. However it is not the most terrible existence at all really.

You walk underneath these trees as a black wolf, as large as a horse you are, fearsome and deadly. No man can catch you with their blade, no beast can outrun you no matter how hard they may try. You love the freedom, you relish in your wolf life away from all the kingdoms, towns, politics, and people. Away from it all.

Under the great sky you sleep, upon the grass or snow you lay when tired, river water you drink to stay alive. Hoofed prey is what you eat to keep strong, life this way is easy and simple as a flower grows in a meadow. You like this way, but you do grow with a sense of longing at times. Longing for what is the question, is it a place? An object, a person?

Your heart has been pumping wolf blood through your veins for many moons now that these human feelings confuse you. Maybe that is what you want, maybe it's what you need? To feel a connection to another, a person with soft skin and a truly conscious mind that can make you laugh and smile and feel.

Feel something.

Who will gift you this feeling? Who could love a skinchanger like you? Who could possibly see you and not feel an ounce of fear? Is there even such a person alive now in this world with you who could ever want you? You're not so sure, and you don't care much to ponder this often, it's not worth the time in thought. Men aren't worth that kind of time swimming around your head like some pretty fantasy.

You'd rather crush bone in your jaws, feel the sweet warmth of blood on your tongue as it slids down your throat. Press your claws into the flesh of a beast and watch it wiggle and writhe with pain. Watch it cry out for aid that is never coming, kill kill. Maybe that's all you're good at anyways, maybe you're just meant to end the lives of monsters?

Take the breath from murders on the run, sink your fangs into defilers of the innocent, leave broken child snatchers to bleed out in the cold. None ever the wiser as to what hit them when they'd never been expecting it. Yes, maybe that is your purpose now, maybe that is your true destiny?

A footfall hard upon the leafy snow scattered earth causes you to stop your trotting down a pathway, you listen intently with two pointed furry ears. The footsteps are light as feathers, many of them, your wet snout tests the air. Your nostrils flaring as you breath in the scent of what moves silently under the treetops.

A scent familiar to you seeping into your follicles, a smell of spiced cherry, too strong to smell nice in actuality. A scent only given off by one being you know to exist in this world.....a vampire. Your eyes of glowing gold shimmer with bloodlust, the hunt is on!

Your paws send you across the green ferns all around, past bushes and little streams you go until at last have you caught up with them. They are moving slow, methodically...you know they are hunting. But what, who? You stalk in the shadows of the trees, low and stealthy you move when all of a sudden does a man yell fiercely. The sound of silver to undead flesh sings in the air as you peak out over a rock down into a little valley in the woods.

There, a man with white hair and one nasty looking sword does battle with a clan of three very angry looking vampires. It's not even dark yet, dusk is about to arrive yet the sky is so overcast these fuckers don't have to fear the sun now. You sit and watch for a short time until all are dead before him, he cleans his sword and sighs.

Your eyes suddenly catch movement to the right, two more are on the hunt for their brethren. You stand, moving swiftly in the shadow of the trees as they take no notice of you hidden so well by the large ferns and rocks. The man is unaware as he reaches his horse who snorts with nervousness, moving away from his gentle hand.

One vampire makes a move for him, you jump, mouth open wide as his skull finds your teeth. You taste his blood, sweet and fresh as fruit dripping down your lips. His companion screams a terrible wail, she launches herself at you but is quickly struck down. You press your paws against her shoulders as she stares helplessly into your hungry gaze. She is afraid for the first time in her life, afraid.

It is a swift death you bring her. Stepping off her deceased body do you turn to face the man with the white hair and silver sword. He blinks back surprised puzzlement as you feel the pull to change overcome you. You've not felt this in a long time it's too much to bear and with that does your black wolf form shift into the body of you, a woman.

You stand there with nothing but the clothes on your back, no satchel, no weapon, the man's eyes widen as he holds up his sword. You bring your empty hands into the air, "Do not be afraid! I mean you no harm, I promise."

He eyes you suspiciously, untrusting of this strangeness about you, "Promise's are made between people who know each other."

You roll your eyes at the untrusting man, "Alright then. I am Y/N of Styria, and I mean you no harm."

"Vesemir." Reveals the man simply, his suspicion never relents, "Can you promise me your word?"

"Considering I have no weapons with me, I can." You add, "Not that I would still want to harm you even if I did have a knife."

He lets out a small snort at your lighthearted jest, "Well then girl, what are you doing in these woods alone?"

"Traveling, I assume the same?"

"You'd be correct. I'm going home, most certainly what you should be doing if there's vampires in these woods."

"There were vampires in these woods. Then you killed some and I finished them off. Now it's just us, and I am a skinchanger as you could have guessed and you are a man with a horse. I'd say you need to be getting home more then I."

"That is....that is a fair point to make." He raises a brow, "Now I am curious, where is your pack then?"

"I have none."

"Well that is a pity."

"Most days it is not so much a horrible thing..." Your words are ripped from you when something with a heavy grip grabs onto your shoulder before throwing you into a tree. You hit hard against the rough bark before falling to the decently soft forest floor. Head fuzzy and dazed as you try and push yourself into a seated position to no avail.

Your hands push some snow, leaves and dirt away as you slowly sit up, "Fuck that hurt." You mutter to no one in particular before leaning your aching body against the tree.

Blinking hard does your vision return fully as you watch Vesemir clash his blade into the neck of an angry vampire....oh, so you might have missed one. At least it's dead now. You rub the dirt off on your pants before wiping a trail of blood off of your cheek though it only smudges the crimson more.

Vesemir almost seems to teleport right in front of you, he crouches down to reach your level, "You alright? That was quite the tumble you took. Would have killed a grown man in fact."

"Been through worse." You rasp, swallowing hard at the intense jolt of pain up the one side of your ribs.

He chuckles at this, "Something tells me you're not lying. But now we come to a decision here, I leave you to the woods or I take you to a tavern."

Your brows furrow up at him, "Of fucking course you are, I should have known." His expression turns to puzzlement as you squint at him, "You're going to Kaer Morhen, you're a goddamn Witcher aren't you?"

"I am."

"Well at least you have the decency to not lie, but if you know anything about this area and I'm sure you do. No tavern is around for many many miles, so, shall we go to Kaer Morhen?"

Vesemir purses his lips together in thought, you, he had not been expecting at all. "I don't kn..."

"Really? You'd just leave me out here to die? A wounded woman all alone in the woods by herself alone in the woods...alone...in the woods. By herself, defensless...no weapons, nothing."

"For fucks sake, come on." He mutters before standing, reaching a hand out for you to take, "Well let's go, we don't have all night."

You gladly accept this offer by forcing yourself to your feet, "All we have is all night." You mutter, a bit annoyed, "From here, we won't get there till the early hours of the morning."

"How'd you know that?" He asks, leading you over to his horse as you hold your bruised side.

"I get around okay? No more questions I'm tired and I think one of my ribs is cracked."

"You think?"

Pressing your finger against your skin do you flinch, "Fuck." You seethe, "Yeah, yeah I know."

"Alright, fine. I'll let you ride with me then."

You give the Witcher a look, "Oh so you weren't going to let me?"

He chuckles, "I'm only joking. Come on, let's get us home." His horse seemingly snorts in agreement ——

A Couple Months Later

This place, this huge new castle, or fortress is a better word for it then anything else. What a wonder it truly is, tall and mighty it stands on the side of a mountain far away from people and their prying eyes. Far away from everything really, you've grown to like this very much indeed. The seclusion, the quiet of this place away from everyone.

It's always cold here most often, peaceful many days, and spacious. A perfect place for you to roam, a perfect place for you to heal from that damn vampire. Bastard just about took a chunk out of your side when it smacked you into a tree. Fortunately Vesemir was there to take you to clean your wounds, he even let you keep a room all your own.

Standing in the main feasting hall where the giant tree sits at her throne decorated in silver medallions, do you admire the shimmering metalwork in the firelight. A man's footsteps are heard walking from the opened doors across the room to stand at your side.

"Pretty things aren't they?"

"They are." You agree, "I've noticed you have one as well, a wolf to each lays as the protector in the medallion. A good choice."

He chuckles, "I'd think so."

"Yes, yes....these must be the ones who have passed on. Are they not?"

He pauses a moment, "They are, and to remember them do we put their medallion upon the tree. It's the least we can do to honor them."

You turn to face Vesemir with a small smile, "So Witcher's do have hearts after all. Thought all of you fuckers didn't feel a thing."

"Well....with time we get more of ourselves back. Most of us at least." Admits Vesemir as he turns to look at you, "I must explain something to you girl, because I know you are of the wolfblood linage and have grown fond of this place."

Your brows furrow at this, "What fun secret are you about to share with me now? I hope this doesn't mean you'll have to kill me, I could probably take you."

He shakes his head, indeed amused by that, "No, nothing like that. It's what happens in the winter....it's not just going to be us and the horses. You see, Y/N, that's when the others all come back here to their home. All the Witcher's together again. Just thought I'd warn you since it's already the middle of November. I don't want you to be afraid if one of them shows up at random."

"Oh?" You make a thought expression before raising a brow, "Well what if they see me at random?"

"I don't believe one of my boys would try and kill you on the spot, you're the only woman in Kaer Morhen Y/N, they'll be intrigued."

"Huh, well that's good then." You mutter, "I am curious to meet these men then, so for now I'm just going to go tend to the horses, see you around." You wave at the old Witcher before heading outside to give the horses their hay for the day.

When down in the stalls do you give them the last bit of straw for the evening when the sound of another horse trotting up the path peaks your interest. And that's how you met Lambert, the big loud red haired fox, the second would come four days later as the Witcher named Coen. A week after him would be the third one called Geralt, a tall white haired man with eyes the same color as your own.

Leading you to meet another and another and another until the first snowfall hit Kaer Morhen when you'd been told a last Witcher would be soon to arrive. This one however you have not a single clue about, and these dipshits won't tell you anything about their brother either. All you've been subjected to for the past day is these men and all the women of the night who have chosen to stay for the winter.

Oh how you enjoyed the peace when it lasted.

Sitting on the seat of one of the center wooden tables in the main hall do you take a hearty sip of ale. Lambert stands to your right, holding a sword, highly engaged in one of his tall tales of monster slaying while drunk off his ass. Words mumbling as his brothers listen intently from the seats around you and from other tables as well. The women finding their seats in many of the Witcher's laps, if not on the long wooden benches just as you are.

"So then, after the last slice to the bitch's gullet did I pick up that silver sword and stab him right through the head!" Bellows Lambert excitedly, "It screamed and wailed and when I took out my weapon did it finally go still. No more it moved, no movement at all."

"Well that's usually what happens when you kill something." You add as the others laugh.

Lambert smiles at you fondly, "Fair, fair...but have you ever killed a monster? May I ask?" The room of Witchers and whores alike goes quiet as you sit back casually, they know what you are yet not of the deeds you've done.

"I have."

"Was it a troll?" Asks a brunette woman with two arms around Berengar as he has one hand underneath her blouse.

Lambert points to you, "Ohh and what was it really? A murderer on the run for killing babies?"

"That is evil in and of itself but no, no human monster I have killed."

He gives you a casual shrug, "Then what?"

"Vampire." You say with a wiggle of your brows.

His own brows raise at this, "It is no easy feat to end the half-life of a bloodsucking bastard, how'd you kill it?"

"As I am. But in wolf form."

"Wolf form?" Begins Coen, "You say you are of the old wolfblood but have we seen you change? Not yet, can you even do such a thing or are you here just to tell us stories?" He muses, knowing you are most certainly what you claim to be. It's just these Witchers are curious people who like to see these things for themselves, and tease as always.

You wave him off, "Oh I can, it's just if I did you'd piss yourself and we wouldn't want that happening now would we?" All the men burst with drunken laughter as the women giggle and bounce in the laps of their claimed men for the night.

"Hey, hey, I have seen the inside of Geralt's room after a night of drinking till the sun came up, nothing could make me piss myself like walking in on that." Protest's Lambert as the doors in the front of the great hall open unexpectedly, a harsh breeze of winter air blows in and with that a man.

Everyone's gaze trails to the source though your eyes are already there, the man in greys, hair pulled back with a piece just over his left eye. Irises of blue and red, a fascinating mixture no doubt gifted to him by the Witcher transformation many years ago. He intrigues you greatly; he shuts the large doors and begins to walk into the quiet cavernous room, a sword on his back as well as a traveling pack.

Immediately does his fellow brother's rise from their places to greet him with friendly bear hugs and playfully choice words. You keep to your seat facing him as he lets go of Geralt, reddish-blue irises taking a once over of the room and it's company before landing upon your face seated next to Coen and some woman you can't remember the name of at the moment.

His eyes flash with keen interest as he slowly approaches you with the tiniest limp, this Witcher stops by your side to lean down, getting a better look at your features while you take a slow sip of your ale. His silver medallion hangs from his neck as his interested gaze lingers over your face for a moment too long yet you don't particularly mind this. You can hear his slow methodical heartbeat pick up at your presence before him.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asks while you side eye him.

Raising a brow do you set your cup on the table to move your face close to his, fearless and unflinching you face him, "Y/N of Styria, last wolfblood of the north."

He gifts you a grin before standing normally again, hands to either hip, "A wolfblood?" He surmises, "So you're not one of these wonderful ladies here for the winter? Interesting."

You tilt your head at him, "Yes, I'm so interesting. Now who are you besides someone who most certainly could use a good bath?"

He lets out a breathy laugh at this, intrigued and amused by your fearless attitude. He doesn't get this often unless it's some bold whore in need of coin or a night spent warm. He smirks, eyes never leaving yours, "Eskel. A pleasure to meet you Y/N of Styria, wolfblood of the north. You're a face I hope to see for more then just this night." He says before nodding respectfully and walking away to find himself a drink and some food.

Well now that went better then you'd thought....and he was, Eskel is...handsome.

When Eskel disappears with Vesemir and Geralt elsewhere does Lambert come up to you with a great smile upon his drunken features. Well he more so staggers up to your table before slapping a hand upon the wooden surface, drink still in his other hand. You look up at him, "Yes?"

He giggles like a little girl, "Oi Y/N, seems you've got an admirer. Good luck with that one, he's something to be seen I'll tell you that much." He sets his drink down next to you.

"That's not much to tell." You laugh before standing up, "And him? Eskel? We've only just met not even a minute ago."

"That's where he's got ya! He never speaks to anyone like that, not even the prettiest large breasted whore in all of Kaer Morhen!" He shouts drunkenly as no one listens but you, Lambert sets his hands on your shoulders, "Our little Witcher caught the eyes for a certain she-wolf, ha ha this is brilliant!"

"Okay, okay, you are becoming as loud as an ox in heat. You sleeping here, or finding a kind soul to fuck away your problems?"

He makes a face, "What's that mean?"

"It means do I have to help you to your room, or can I leave your ass here for someone who wants to see what's in your pants?"

He snickers, "You don't want to see what's in my pants?"

"Can't say I do."

His face falls, "oh."

You hold back your laughter as he frowns, "Want to find someone who does?" His face lights up like a glowing flame in the wind.

"Yes! I want to fuck!" He yells, "Who's going to fuck me?!"

You turn to the woman getting drunkenly fondled by Coen who's half asleep yet still enjoying a breast in his hand, you nod towards her, "Hey, Fei....how's a fox in your bed tonight? He's warm and cuddly."

She raises a brow as you grab Lambert's face to show her, she laughs at this, "If he's willing." Says Fei, brown eyes trailing over his lovestruck grin.

Lambert suddenly laughs, "HA! I am willing!"

"Wonderful. You two have fun, see you tomorrow." Releasing him do you part from the table to head towards your room for a night of needed rest. Though your dreams will swim with images of Eskel floating in your head for just about the whole night. Not until sunrise the next morning do you wake with a jolt after killing a deer in your dreams for stealing your sweet roll.

Dreams, so strange they are.

Walking out of your room do you shut the door before heading down the stone hallway towards the main hall. You can smell a burning fire in the hearth, hear the voices of a couple Witcher's talking amongst one another, and the sounds of cup's clinking together. A woman laughs as you find yourself in the entrance of the large hall, the tree of Witcher medallions on your left.

"Oi! Y/N, come join us!" Says Coen as the woman to his right waves for you, "Vesemir has just cooked the pig to perfection."

You walk halfway across the hall to reach his table, "Has he now? What's the occasion?"

"My boys have all returned to me." Says Vesemir as he sets a plate in front of you, "Here, this is a day of celebration if I can celebrate in the way that is right. Eat, this pig is fresh and delicious, butchered and cooked all by myself."

Stabbing a chunk do you pause a second to look at it, "Was this Porkers?"

"Uh..." Swallows Vesemir, "...might be."

"This is Porkers isn't it?"

Vesemir pauses a long moment, "Yes."

"Better he went this way then in my jaws." You admit much to his surprise, "One more day and I'd have ended him myself, that stupid pig would never leave me alone in the pen. I don't think he liked wolves."

"Or maybe he's just a good judge of character." Jests Coen as you send him a halfhearted glare.

"Yes, yes, probably right. Now shut your mouth and fill it with something other then smartass words before I make you choke on this fork." You threaten as the woman on his side giggles.

"Oh Y/N, you're so bad." She drawls with a flick of her delicate hand.

You simply wave her off before eating your breakfast, doing your absolute best to ignore the lot of them this fine morning. After finishing up while also being subjected to Coen's stories for a time do you stand from your place at the table, saying your goodbyes until later, and with that leaving.

So loud and annoying they are. Always talking and talking and those fucking women always laughing and talking you could tear the place apart. Instead of acting upon your inner wolven blood do you make your way outside and into the snowy world of the Continent in winter. Well, at least in the Blue Mountains.

You take the path right, going down a couple stairs until you reach a side area where a sort of bridge connects to another part of the fortress. This place in between the two buildings is where you like to stand and keep watch over Kaer Morhen. It's probably got the single best view compared to just about anywhere else here. And all yours.

A raven flies by just as your ears prick with the sound of footsteps making their way through the underpass to the entrance to the bridge. You do not frighten by this but listen and let this person choose to keep walking or not. Soon enough does Eskel come to your side as you turn to face him, he gifts you a small handsome smile that causes his scar to move only slightly, "A fine morning for a pair of wolves to have, don't you think?" He says as your lips turn into a little grin, head turning up towards the grey sky spitting out bits of snow.

"The clouds are heavy today with snow. But we're not plagued by any diseases so perhaps today is fine after all." You jest before looking at your bare hands, "My hands are still here even, no rot to take them from me."

Eskel chuckles as he holds his cloak tightly, he leans in just a little which peaks your curiosity as those hazel eyes lock onto you, "Forgive me for my boldness..." He takes a single nervous breath, sounding like a small chuckle to ease his anxiousness about talking to you. You raise a brow as his expression turns softer, "....but you, you have not left my mind since we met last evening." Reveals Eskel as you listen even more intently, "Your eyes enchant me and your face is more beautiful then any lord's daughter I've ever known. I have not met any woman quite like you."

Now that, was something else.

Your lips curl into a sly grin, "Bold indeed. Could explain why you are here with me now and not anyone else." You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

"That is a fair point."

"Is it a true point?" You ask, "Do you speak these things to me with actual truth, or is this just said on a dare from your brothers?" You're simply testing him now, there's nothing about Eskel that shows falsity at all yet you don't want him to think you'll simply believe anything said to you. Even if that's not what's on his mind right now, all that he cares to think about is you, nothing and no one else at all.

His nervously adorable expression swiftly changes to a panicked one, "No! No, not at all...quite the opposite actually..it's just, I-I cannot seem to get you out of my mind since last night. And I am curious about that too, but, how is it that you have found yourself in my home?"

"I saved your precious Vesemir from some vampires a few moons ago. Then I was injured in the process and he was kind enough to bring me here....so, here I remain." More or less how that little interaction went down.

"You have not chosen to leave yet?" Asks Eskel with deep interest, grateful that you have stayed for as long as you have. He'd never have met you otherwise and what a truly dreadful thing that would have been.

"I have not. But I cannot think of a reason to either, sure your brothers are an annoyance and these whores. Well let's just say I'd rather have my ears bludgeoned then listen to them speak most of the time. But I do not mind it." You explain, "This place is not bad and the company here are interesting nonetheless. Better then being alone in the woods."

"That's fortunate to hear." He says happily, lips curling into a small grin, "I will enjoy seeing you around these halls, Y/N." Oh the absolute flirt.

You gift him a small grin in return, "I believe I will too." Taking a single step away, "See you when our paths dare to cross my dear wolf, until then." You give him a wink before walking past him across the stone bridge and into the underpass of the high keep. Your heart soaring the whole time at the thought, Eskel likes you, you! That flirting last evening wasn't just a false visage at all, he meant every word and when he said all that just now. Well if you hadn't left when you did, might you have squealed like a little girl.

Eskel stands there in the slowly falling snow with a look of pure awe on his face as your form disappears behind the wall. His lips turn into a beaming lovestruck grin as he thinks of your face just now and in the way that you looked at him. He was so close to you, everything he wanted to take in did he get when you faced him so fearlessly, so honestly. Your eyes never even glanced once at his facial scar, you just spoke to him with such a voice.

Such a lovely voice.

So sly and playful, he could have listened to you for hours if you'd let him. But the most enticing part of it all was when you smiled a truthful grin when he spoke is honest feelings to you. Your expression never faltered to distastefulness or judgment, you flirted back and called him your wolf. Your wolf. Did he truly hear that right? Is he in a dream?

Eskel could die a happy man if he was struck down by an arrow right now. Your soft voice in his head, extraordinary face in his mind with that enchanting smile of yours. Oh and those eyes, irises the color of a vibrant sunset falling down across the horizon, golden and brilliant. What is it with you? He's never felt this sort of way towards anyone ever, it's such an incredibly strong and fiery feeling.

And he fucking loves it. ——

The days pass by and the snow grows higher and higher upon the grounds as your own heart seems to grow for a certain hazel eyed Witcher roaming around Kaer Morhen. These days turn into weeks as time progresses and so does the relentless winter in the Blue Mountains. Yet all hope for an interesting winter spent here seems to be in your favor. Fortunately in your favor.

As yourself and Eskel have grown closer in this length of time within the walls of Kaer Morhen. He is now not just a friend, but someone whom you've undoubtedly fallen in love with though he perhaps is not quite aware of this. But by the whispers given to you by his fellow brethren have you learned of his weakness to you. The flirting is one thing, but to actually feel a truthful love....now that is what you are hoping for.

To find his true feelings, to know they are real.

Eskel is said to be in love, and you're going to be the bold one this evening to admit all to him and more, see what happens once he knows. You just have to find the fool first, wherever he is. Walking down a hallway do you swiftly dodge out of the way of an opening door. A whore stomps out of it with one of the Witcher's on her tail attempting to apologize for something he said.

You just slide on past them and down the hall you go, up a small flight of stairs and almost straight into Triss who's just arrived in the last week. "Oh shit, I didn't even see you there I'm so sorry." You apologize as she steadies herself against the wall while you nervously laugh, "Almost took you out."

"It's alright Y/N, no harm no foul."

"Yes, right. Okay well, uh...you know where Eskel is? I've been hunting that man down all damn day and I can't seem to find him anywhere."

Triss raises a brow in thought, "Hmm, can't say I know either but I could bet Vesemir knows where he is. Try downstairs, I think he's in his laboratory."

"Wonderful. See you around Triss. Hopefully I don't end up knocking you to the floor next time." And with that are you off, heading for the lower level in search of Vesemir or Eskel or whichever one shows themselves first. Unfortunately it's Vesemir who stands looking over the headless body of a goat when you walk into the room.

You stop abruptly, "Oh, uh...what are you doing?"

"Trying to see if this creature was ever enchanted or not."

"Why?"

"Because it's been alive for thirty-seven years. Which is far too long for a goat but not too long for an enchanted goat."

You give a slow nod, "Right, right....makes sense. So uh, Vesemir, you know where Eskel is off to this fine day?"

He raises his head from the goat to look at you knowingly, "Eskel? Now why'd you want him?"

You simply roll your eyes at him, "Just tell me where he is."

"Fine, fine. Your lovely wolf is tending to a new scar in his quarters.."

"What happened to him?" You ask, probably far too quickly then needed.

Vesemir chuckles, "Geralt gave him a hard wack to the shoulder, he'll be fine Y/N. But I suppose your company would be a welcoming sight for him. He's gotten a little grumpy since it's happened."

"When did it happen?"

"This morning."

"Explains why I haven't seen him much at all today. Poor fools in pain, probably didn't want me to see him with his tail between his legs. Oh screw his pride, I'm going to see him now." You smirk mischievously as Vesemir shakes his head at you.

"Well, all I'm saying is you better knock that sour mood right out of him before dinner tonight. It's a special occasion since a bard has found their way into our halls and will be playing tonight."

You wave him off, "Yes, yes...I'll get Eskel bursting with joy and maybe even some butterflies while I'm at it."

"I'm counting on it Y/N!" Shouts Vesemir as you exit the large room, disappearing from sight as you make your way down the corridor for Eskel's room.

Soon you find it and stop right at his front door before giving three loud pounds, movement is heard from inside when you repeat this action again. A low muttering grumble is heard as feet move across the flooring from within when suddenly the door swings open, "No Geralt I don't want to fucking spare agai..." His hazel eyes land upon you causing him to go silent, highly surprised that the bastard come to pester him is you.

You wiggle your brows, "Yes it is I, Geralt of Rivia." You jest, saying his name dramatically before imitating Geralt's gruff speaking voice, "Eskel, my wolf brethren, I advise you to spar with me or therefor you're a little bastard who has to wash my clothes for a week."

His lips slowly turn into a smile as he lets out a breathy laugh, "My dear Y/N, what are you doing here?"

Crossing your arms over your chest do you shrug, "Oh you know, looking for someone to bother, maybe hunt down some rats since this place doesn't have a cat...and I must say one ran right into here so I can kill two birds with one stone and not only find a rat but bother you in the process."

"You wouldn't be bothering me Y/N." Says Eskel as he leans against his door frame, handsome grin upon his sweet lips, "Maybe I enchanted that rat to bring you here to me."

"I wouldn't be surprised, I am a fair and enticing woman. Many men lure me with enchanted animals of small size, it's become quite a problem for myself." You casually quip as he chuckles, "Don't laugh, I've found myself in unfortunate circumstances because of this."

"Is this an unfortunate circumstance?" He teases, irises flickering with adoration as he smiles at you.

"Not at all." You reply, "But I would like to come in if you're willing. I heard you got hurt today and also I have something I want to tell you if you'll hear me out."

Eskel pushes himself off of the door frame to stand outside of his room, showing a hand for you to walk inside, "Ladies first." He slightly bows as you give him a wink before walking into his room, he shuts the door once you've reached his bed. "So, what's on your mind?" Asks Eskel.

"That shoulder."

He sighs before leaning against the wall on his good one, "It's nothing but a forming bruise. You needn't worry for me, I'll be fine. Geralt just got me good, nothing that won't heal."

"If you say so, but now I need you to sit next to me." You pat the bed, "Not just because I like to see your face up close but because I have something important to say and you're going to sit down for it."

Eskel chuckles at your assertiveness as he walks over to sit by your side on his bed, he leans casually on one arm while leaning a little back, "What does my wolf have to tell me?" He nonchalantly asks while your own calm attitude begins to falter, you're really about to do this.

"Your wolf has to tell you...that she's, uh, she's feeling a strong way right now, and has been for some time." You admit as he listens intently, you take a breath to release some nerves, "I know how you feel for me and yes I am aware this is bold and blunt but it's how I speak of things important to me." You pause a brief moment, "Eskel, from the moment we met eyes have I found myself utterly enchanted by you as well, something you once said to me on the stone bridge. But I must say what I feel....I am..in...in love, and I do not care who knows it anymore, I do not fear if you do either because I have been told by your brothers some things and uh....it would, it would be nice if you'd say something? Anything?" Did you just blow it to the stars? Maybe Lambert was in fact lying?

Eskel stares at you mouth agape as he blinks back bewilderment, when your once excited face turns into a nervous frown does he snap out of it. He appears oddly relieved,  "Y/N, your feelings are well received I promise you. Although I am ashamed to not have told you sooner.."

"What? No, don't be.....okay maybe a little." You jest before shaking your head at yourself, stupid, you just hug your sides, "I was very nervous about this for a whole week."

His smile grows brighter, "A whole week? You've been planning this for that long?"

"I might have."

He lets out a breathy laugh, "Now I feel worse. I was waiting till the next new moon to tell you, trying to build the confidence you know?"

You chuckle, "Oh I know all right."

Eskel let's out a nervous chuckle as you giggle until the laughter dies and it's just you two staring at one another in a quiet room. His hazel eyes glance from your eyes to your lips and to your eyes in one brief moment not gone unnoticed by you. Your smile grows as does your confidence, "Thinking of something?" You tease.

"Your lips." Admits Eskel softly, "And a bit more."

"What's more?" You move yourself a little closer as he does the same, not even taking notice of this at all.

His hand reaches up to press against your cheek, "About you, laying naked in this bed." He whispers boldly, greenish-red eyes staring deeply into your golden ones that glow like two shimmering coins. Now that's more like your Eskel.

"And I presume you'll be naked as well?"

"Oh most certainly." Laughs Eskel breathlessly, eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips and back. He's not sly at all.

"Good." You reply while leaning in, lips just barely brushing up against one another, "Because I want to know something first." He stops to glance from your lips to your enchanting gaze, you speak in the quietest voice, "What it feels like."

Eskel's brows furrow only slightly, "What, what feels like?"

"To have you inside me." His lips curve into a beaming grin as both hands pull your face to his and with that do the two of you embrace for the first time. He tastes like Lambert's soup and sweet ale upon your tongue while your lips move in time with his.

Your hands find their place around his strong torso as you tug at his clothing, Eskel's hands doing the same while your lips are locked. He smiles into the kiss, two hands moving up to hold your cheeks gently before he pulls slowly away. In this quiet moment do the two of you stare deeply into one anothers eyes like there's no one else in the entire world. This hour is just you and him.

You press a hand over his that's still on your cheek, "Your heartbeat is very loud."

Eskel snorts, rubbing a thumb over your skin, "With good reason." He replies, letting his hands trail down from your cheeks to your neck and then to your shoulders where they rest as he thinks of what to do next. This is certainly new...a different new...a good new.

You're not some common bed warmer after a long lonely hunt to be feverishly ravished over with a soul filled with lust and provocative thoughts. You're Y/N, the one who calls him your wolf. He knows you better then anyone else here, he knows your favorite color and what your favorite flower is, he knows you are a snappy thing but deep down are truly soft and kind. He knows you love the trees and when the sun sets on a cloudless sky so that you can see the change of the dusk to darkness.

And right now does he want to be gentle and remember every single detail about you, this time with you is more precious then all the gems in the world and much more. You are bounteously more deserving of everything this Continent has to offer, and this time here and now, Eskel will make sure you feel comfortable and absolutely loved for as long as time allows him for. You are his new light, you are now his lover and he is your mate.

Eskel's thumb gently finds itself between the collar of your loose top and your skin as his eyes linger on the small V'ing in the neck of your shirt. You know what he wants yet you can tell he's too uncertain on how to get around this part without being too feverish about it. To aid him in this conflict do you remove his hands from your shoulder to lift your shirt off yourself.

Underneath is a thin long cloth wrapped around your breasts to keep them from doing as they will when you're wandering about Kaer Morhen or at sword practice with one of his brothers. Eskel's eyes widen at the sight though your flesh is hidden, you reach down to take his hand before taking an end piece and giving it to him to unwrap. He clearly understands your implications and with that uses both his hands to get in closer to you and slowly unwrap the binding. Oh and what tension this causes, the excitement in your heart jumps as the confinement loosens.

The cloth uncoils and soon does he take it all off, he swallows thickly at the sight of your bare breasts right before his very eyes. This is something he's only ever dreamed of when whatever divine power would bless him with such magnificent dreams. You are an absolute marvel before him. He grins, a smile between that of a nervous boy and a lustful man all wrapped up into one as he looks to you now, all of you that allows him.

You take his hands with yours and bring them to your soft round flesh, leaving them there as you touch his slender cheek, leaning yourself in to press your lips to his once again. He kisses back without hesitation, fingers gifting your breasts a light squeeze as your hands hold his cheeks close to yours. Oh how you feel as though you're burning from dragon flame with how he feels you now, pads of his fingers caressing your soft flesh.

Your kiss grows deeper and more lustful as you push into him, you quickly pull away and grip the edge of his shirt. He smiles before letting go of your naked flesh to remove his own top, once thrown to the floor do you place your hand upon his collarbone. Golden irises studying his scarred skin where he's had a run in with a monster or two.

His skin feels warm to the touch, heartbeat thudding hard within his strong chest as you close your eyes to listen. Eskel grows fascinated by this, "What is it?"

Golden eyes opening to meet his inquisitive gaze do you steal a swift kiss first, "You're heartbeat is thudding as fast as a mans. You are nervous."

Eskel bites his bottom lip, "I'm not....not anymore at least."

You gift him a knowing look, "There is no shame in feeling uncertain because of something new. Don't worry, I am too."

"You are?" Asks Eskel, genuinely puzzled that you of all people would be nervous about this or anything in general. "I couldn't tell."

"That's because I trust you." Your fingers trail down from his collarbone to his muscular chest, he doesn't say another word but let you do as you please. Stopping at his peck do you begin to gently push, knowing exactly what this means does Eskel shift a little so that he can properly lay himself back down upon the bed. He feels as though a thousand butterflies are swarming inside him right now. How could he have gotten so unbelievably lucky?

You're so very beautiful and the gentlest woman to ever touch him...and this new position is almost a strange one if he could be completely honest. He's usually the dominant one, finding himself on top when he gets lucky at night in one of the taverns he happens to find in his travels. But you so naturally can make him weak and wanting that he can't find a good reason to dare stop you. He likes this far too much.

When Eskel's back hits the mattress do you lean down to kiss him as one of your hands finds itself touching him through his trousers down below. You can feel the hardness of his manhood through the attire as you carefully squeeze around the clothed shaft, drawing a deep moan from Eskel that is absolute music to your ears. A hand of his tries to take your breast though you take this wrist and press it to the bed instead.

This excites him even more. He twitches in your grasp much to your enjoyment.

Lips still locked do you leave his hardness alone to fiddle with the strings of your own pants, however, this shows itself to be a difficult task with just one hand. Parting from his sweet lips do you sit up and begin to unlace your pants to loosen them, Eskel sees this and starts to do the same as his nerves grow in anticipation. Soon he's unlaced it enough but cannot pull them off when you press a gentle hand to his lower abdomen. His eyes are on you in a second.

"Let me." Is all that slips from your lips, he listens and sets his hands aside to watch you undress before him now. You sit on the edge of the bed and slip your pants and undergarments from your blessed body, he can see the crack of your bum sitting on furs until you stand. So exquisite you are naked from behind, then you turn to face him.

Eskel almost chokes on his own spit at the sight of you, the way your body stands like a beautiful statue crafted from the finest hands in all the Continent, a goddess before him in the flesh. All for him, just you. The curves of your vessel, the shape of your breasts, and your delicious womanhood hidden from him in the small dark of the V. You smile down at him, taking clear notice of the tent he's made in his half opened pants.

You take the edge of his pant legs and pull gently, he lets you take them off completely, cock swinging out and straight up due to his high arousal. He leans up on bent elbows to see you better, legs a little apart as you stand directly in front of him. Your eyes sparkle with lustful mischievousness when your hands reach down to close his legs.

Your touch is fire to his skin, his tip leaks with the smallest bit of pre-cum at this, oh how you drive him mad. You then move forward to ever-so-carefully find yourself hovering above him, eyes of deep molten gold staring lovingly into his hazel irises when you cup his cheek. He leans up to kiss you fully, hands reaching up to caress your naked back as you lean over him on bent knees and one hand pressed to the mattress for support.

You let go, letting your lips move against one another until your womanhood feels too hot and wet to take anymore and you must pull away. He follows your parting lips for a second until you give him a look, and he knows, he knows exactly what's going to happen next. And he couldn't be more ready.

You move down his torso a little, opened legs still never quite close enough to his harness until you hover just above it, still refraining from his blessed touch. His lips curl into a beaming grin as you take his length in one hand, the other steadying yourself on his muscular stomach. You hold his cock beneath you now, lining yourself up, slowly, meticulously, do you lower your parted legs until the tip of his hard cock touches your slick folds.

Eskel feels it too, he watches on as you gently relax your legs, letting his manhood push into you with ease, filling you up deep and good. You gasp, letting out a breathless sound when he fills you completely, it hurts ever so slightly for a short time until your walls properly adjust. Eskel is over the moon, his head falls back into the softness of the mattress as you sit upon him.

Taking him deep; you press your hands to his naked torso for support as you begin to slowly ride him. Your hips moving in a rhythmic motion back and forth as you feel his cock sliding within you so deliciously. You're full, tight, and completely soaked, but this is just the beginning.

In no time have you adjusted wonderfully to him, all discomfort completely gone as you let yourself finally relax and enjoy riding him like there's no tomorrow. Eskel grunts in pleasure, hands moving up to hold and press into your bent thighs as he finds support and somewhere to touch. His eyes close tightly as you fuck him good, the smile on your face evident as the sounds of skin slapping on skin can be heard.

You look down at him and cannot help the huge blissful grin that tugs at the corners of your lips while you ride him; Eskel below you, naked and squirming, head pressed to the mattress with eyes closed in deep pleasure. Lips parted as quick breaths sounding on the verge of a rasped moan escape him so easily, you're so grateful to have found him this evening. To have met him at all.

His fingers dig into your naked flesh as your bundle of nerves excite and build with the friction from his skin to your clit pressing there over and over again. His own pleasure increases the more you ride, the more your hips slide and thrust and move rhythmically upon him so perfectly like you two have done this a hundred times. He grunts deeply, a low and hot guttural sound that's pure music to your ears.

Such a delicious turn on.

You bite your bottom lip as this pleasurable storm builds and builds when his hips suddenly thrust up into you unexpectedly. You let out a gasp filled moan at the wondrous contact of him fucking into you from below from such strong hips, oh he is a something to behold. You bounce joyously upon his hard cock, head falling back as you shake and moan and burst with pleasure when at last is it all too much. Too amazing, the pleasure drawing your body into a great fire of ecstasy.

Coming undone before him as he thrusts up into you over and over again, your walls tighten and press around his manhood by the wonder of your natural orgasm. This doing just as it needed, causing Eskel to grunt when he releases his seed into your warm walls, coating you with all that he has. You both make your own amounts of groans and moans as you continue to ride out your high upon him.

He squeezes your hips, eyes opening as his loving gaze finds yours and he smiles big at the beauty before him. Your eyes glimmer in the candlelight with small tears that find themselves in the corner of your eyes gone unnoticed by you, at this does he swiftly sit up and press his lips to yours for a heated embrace. Your body even closer to him now, flesh to flesh as your breasts smoosh up against him.

Though this new position feels rather lovely with him holding you like so.

He feels you all over your bare back as your own hands do the same until he kisses your cheek and flips you so that the mattress presses to your back this time. Eskel hovers above you, still buried deep within your walls, he moves a piece of hair from your eyes, "You're my favorite person alive, do you know that?"

Smiling up at him do you move some hair out of his adoring gaze and keep your hand to his hair, "I suspected as much." You muse, "You're the only one I would die for, fuck everyone else."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone."

Eskel chuckles before leaning down to capture your lips with his, he feels oh so fine against you as you wiggle underneath him at the contact. He holds you close until after some time does he pull away, he leans in one last time to press his lips to yours before parting and slowly sliding out of you. You can't help the groan that leaves you lips when he does this, you feel empty without him there to fill you up.

"Eskel." You whisper in wanting as he leans over you to grab a thin cloth from the bedside table where he then cleans you up, though your area is still so sensitive it feels rather good.

When he's done does he toss the cloth stained with wet to the floor, forgotten for another time when you're not incapacitated from a sweet love making session. Eskel then lays down but not before pulling your naked body to him so he can lay an arm over your side, he wants you close as can be.

Faces so close now you can feel his hot breath upon your flesh, you reach an arm over his shoulder to tug at his hair where the bun is. Finding the thin piece of leather fabric do you gently tug and tug until it slides off easily enough. Letting his shoulder length hair fall all around and a little in his line of sight which causes you to chuckle.

"Oh my handsome wolf." You speak softly causing him to smile, "I don't think I ever want to leave Kaer Morhen again."

He rubs a thumb over your skin, "Would you if it was with me?" He asks as you deeply enjoy the way his fingers now trace circles around your back.

"You? Just you?" You pretend to think this over a moment, "I would have to say yes. Now, are you nervous anymore?"

"Only when you have my sword in your hand." He muses, clearly implying his cock as your brows raise.

"Eskel!"

-

Thanks for reading! There will be more Eskel to come because I love him and refuse to admit that he was turned into a tree, nope, absolutely not, never happened. Also Basil is just a cutie in general so here we are :)

Tagged: @diegos-butt​​ @xxemilydonxx

[aeonianarchives]

Would you allow us sneak peeks into your current WIPs?

Of course Anon, i currently have 18 or so, which really need doing.

But I have only started a few of them, quite a lot of them are Erestor x Reader.

most of the time i make a title and then the outline and leave it, so most of these won't actually have actual things which are in them.

Assuming makes an ass out of both of us

Lindir X Reader X Elrond Imagine: Lindir and the Reader are both together both of them Like Lord Elrond more than just a friend, neither assumed the Half Elf likes them back.

A warrior on either arm

A/n: Helms deep never happened, HALDIR LIVES IN THE BOOKS, my baby is alive, the film never happened. WE DON'T TALK ABOUT HELMS DEEP EVER. an adaptation of one of my ships but to suit a reader (Haldir x Elladan X Legolas) Haldir x Reader X Legolas Imagine: You and Haldir have been dating for some time before the Fellowship visits Lorain, you both decided during your stay you should let Legolas know how you felt but he's a bit to oblivious. Ft. Teasing Gimli, Aragorn Knows best, Boromir is a sucker for the reader, Hobbit's are terrible wingmen well apart from sam.

A Quite Night

A/n: this is just a little fluff for the heart, I certainly need it, it's for my favorite background elf who doesn't have enough screen time. Feren x Reader Imagine: it's a quite night in Mirkwood so you decided to do some late night reading with the cool air on your balcony, your Husband decides to come home to surprise you, and you have never been more glad to have Feren by your side

Bird of Passage

Alt Title: Feather's in Blood A/n: a bit like my Smaug Daughter reader x Elladan but this time the reader is the son of the lord of eagles and it's x Elrohir. AU: Eagles are like dragon shifters Male Skinchanger Reader X Elrohir

What was Lost

Thranduil thought his wife died in battle yet there was no body, what if you just went missing and made yourself a job to wander Middle Earth and Protect it, only to Help some Dwarves reclaim Erebor to Run into your husband again, with your full grown son. Thranduil x Dark Elf Reader

Death March

Reader puts there neck on the line for Middle earth a bit to often for her lover's liking, like the battle of the last alliance pfff yeah she was there, Reclaim Erebor yeah, The Fellowship was just a step over her Lovers line, sure he let her go on adventures most where fatal if not deadly, at least he was the best healer in middle earth that was what she always said but no amount of complements was going to persuade him this time. Lone Guardian of Middle Earth Reader X Elrond

If You Give a Dragon a Prince…

A/n: The Reader was raised by Gostir, a dragon not well known nor mentioned as the dragon kept to himself, during the battle of the last alliance he found a young (baby), Noldor prince, the heir of Gil-Galad, the king who died in battle, so the dragon took him in, and the reader was raised by a dragon Pairing: Male!reader x Thranduil

Damage control

Maedhros x Fingon x Male Reader Imagine: Morgoth's son, comes to himring to escape his father, the two lords Fingon and Maedhros grow to love him Ft: Fingon as emotional damage control

Those are my more Interesting WIPs, I kinda need to start on, so if you want to request which one I start on first, feel free to.

But if you want a sentence from a WIP here

The Moon will Sing (part 4 of where do we go from here):

"A iluvatar nin" You gasped as you entered the Library was a mess, Erestor was going to kill the twins.

Elvish translation: Oh My God

Looking up the history of the eagles for Bird of Passage was very Interesting when I first started to look at the Idea for it.

I think I found I like writing Male Readers from this Ask, and that I have way to many Tolkien WIPs.

Most of my Queue is Incorrect Quotes, I think I only have a few Fic's in my queue.

I love ranting about my WIPs, and trying to figure out which one to do first.

[lockedloki]

 masterlist✨

(last edited: 25/07/2021)

Rules: X

Tolkien

Elves

maedhros fic learning he’s going to be a dad : X 

maedhros domestic headcanons: X

finrod fic “irises are symbols of hope” : X

dating celegorm would include: X

dating finrod headcanons: X

finarfin proposing and domestic bliss: X

dating fingon would include: X

married life with fingon: X

being married to fingolfin would include: X

elrond and lindir meeting a tiger-skinchanger scenarios: X

dating lindir would include: X

dating elladan headcanons: X

gwindor dating a younger s/o would include: X

dating mablung would include: X

egalmoth with a short s/o - dating headcanons:  X

dating glorfindel: X

glorfindel fic where the reader has a bad head injury: X

being in a poly-relationship with legolas and gimli would include: X

father figure!elrond and dealing with reader’s nightmare: 1

elladan, elrohir and arwen comforting reader after a break-up: X

celeborn, galadriel and cirdan comforting reader with a breakdown/tantrum: X

dating and marriage finrod post-rebirth headcanons: X

celebrimbor general headcanons: X

random headcanons for the house of elrond: X

maedhros, gwindor and maeglin headcanons about s/o rescuing them from Angband: X

domestic life with feanor headcanons: X

aredhel and celegorm goes surfing: X

family headcanons with curufin : X

cirdan and elrond father!headcanons: X

nsft maglor headcanons: X

Ainur

dating mairon would include: X

random 5 eonwe headcanons: X

mairon/sauron/annatar and y/n: the meme-ening

Dwarves

the company wishing you happy birthday and the gifts they’d give you: X

Hobbits

bilbo celebrating your birthday with you would include: X

bilbo asking you very important questions would include: X

Men/Humans

éomer fic where the reader gets hurt sparring: X

boromir and aragorn with a short s/o headcanons : X