skyrimkinkmeme | Meme Announcements!

This more as a challenge for anyone who wants it.

So, A is in love with B, and is cheating on B with C. C is in love with A, and is cheating on A with B. B is in love with C, and is cheating on C with A. Confused yet?

Basically, a love triangle where all three members are in love with each other, but assume that they are the only one of the three that feels that way (maybe, for instance, A thinks B and C don't even know each other, or something).

This could be very funny, very angsty, and/or very hot, and the degrees of those or anything else are up to the writernon. Likewise, A, B, and C can be anyone the anon wants, from people believable entangled to people who live halfway across the country in canon.

Bonus points if:
-none of them are the PC
-other plots/events around Skyrim are mentioned or involved
-voyuerism/exhibitionism between the three
-there's some big confession scene because I'm a huge sucker for cliches.

Gods Ulfric, the man is a sexual genius! *fans self*

I love your way of writing! More? :)

Ooh! This sounds delicious. I always did like Nazir's snark.

I'll give this a shot. Is OP alright with a F! Bosmer DB?

I shall do this! It's going to be Het though because I sadly have not had the time to create a M!DB.

Giving in to my desire to write this. I have taken some notes and have a rough outline, will try to fill within the week but writing is difficult for me (low self-esteem, overly self-conscious etc.)

Oh definitely :) Bosmer is actually my favorite race to play :3 This happened to my nord male, but a bosmeri woman is very much welcome :)

This is perfect in so many ways. I've been dying for a good F!DB/Ulfric fic and this totally hits the spot. Write on, dear Anon!

i'm loving this so much. SO MUCH. can't wait for more :D

I love Lucia and Sofie. I must seem like the worst mother though (by today's standards). Giving my girls daggers that are deadlier than some warhammers... Also, I'm never home. It's not my fault no one else will fix the country. Seriously, you'd think that, as the head of so many factions, you could delegate some stuff. Nope.

I do like spending time at the forge when one or the other daughtet is down there.

Ohmyod this is more or less the most adorable things I have ever read!
This needs to exist! ... kindof tempted to write it myself but I would most definitely butcher the whole thing x'D
Anons! Please! Write this! This Anon will love you if you do!

Adore that last line-bravo!

Summary: Sven writes letters. Faendal writes letters. They’re addressed to Camilla, but Dyce isn’t sure that’s who they’re actually for. It’s time to settle things like men.

~~~
“Aww, I like a good love story. Of course I’ll help.” Dyce had hurried to Whiterun as fast as he could to warn the Jarl about the dragon, and almost immediately he’d been sent back by the Balgruuf’s grumpy court wizard to collect some sort of stone from Bleak Falls Barrow.

He’d accompanied the guards the jarl had sent back to Riverwood, and was resting up in the inn with a plan to retrieve the stone the following day. There was no huge rush, after all, and he hadn’t really stopped moving since Helgen.

It was here that he’d met and fallen into conversation with the bard Sven.

“One moment then.” The bard put down his lute.

Dyce drank some more mead while Sven bent over a piece of parchment, writing carefully.

“Take your time,” Dyce said. “You should write the best letter you can.”

“There we go. Give her this letter and tell her it’s from Faendal.”

“Wait, what?” Dyce put down his drink and unfolded the letter, reading it swiftly and frowning. “This isn’t the sort of letter I expected you to write.”

“Pretty good, isn’t it? Guaranteed to make her blood boil, but subtle.”

Dyce stared at him. “Look, I really think it would be better if you wrote a letter to Camilla as yourself. Just tell her how you feel.”

“She isn’t the problem! It’s Faendal, with his exotic elven looks. Those ears, those eyes. And he spends all his time hunting and working at the mill. He’s tanned and lean; Camilla might not be able to resist those taut muscles for much longer.”

“I still think-”

“I’m not paying you to think! Just deliver a letter; it’s not hard, is it?” He practically shooed Dyce out the door. Dyce caught the innkeeper’s eye as he left, and he shook his head. Dyce took his point. He should have known better than to get involved.

But he liked a good love story. This just didn’t seem to be one.

Once outside, Dyce looked up at the stars and sighed. Now what? He certainly wasn’t going to lie and frame an innocent man. He could throw the letter away and say he lost it. Or say he delivered it and Camilla wasn’t bothered by the contents - but that might just encourage Sven to make up something worse.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and mooched about town, wondering if Hadvar had left to rejoin his unit yet or not.

A solitary figure with a bow slung over his back wandered in from the forest. Dyce nodded politely to him, and the elf stopped and gave him an intense look, “Did I see you talking to Sven? Maybe not. Maybe...nevermind. But I would stay away from him if I were you.”

“Ahh, you’re Faendal, I assume?”

The Bosmer narrowed his eyes, “What has he said?”

“That you make him feel inadequate,” Dyce said dryly. “He wanted me to give Camilla this.”

“What? Let me see? That bastard! So he thinks he can turn Camilla against me? Two can play at that game.”

“Have you considered maybe-”

Faendal didn’t wait for Dyce to suggest something better. He hurried over to the nearest lantern and spread a piece of parchment across a barrel, scribbling a letter.

“Here, give her this.” He smirked. “Let’s see what she thinks of him after reading that.”

Dyce sighed, “Can’t you just woo her on your own merits? Your Bosmer exoticism and taut muscles?”

“Don’t you see? He lounges around all day writing songs and sonnets, and singing - he’s been trained you know. Never does a day’s work, so pale and pretty. What if it turns her head? He’s got eyes like mountain flowers and hair like wheat in the sun.”

“Have you considered poetry perhaps? You might be good at it.”

“Enough sarcasm, go and give her the note. Just wait until I’m out of sight first.” He hurried off, leaving Dyce alone in the street.

“That poor girl.”

Dyce was by now rather curious, and the lights were still on in the general store. He decided it was time to meet the third party in this little drama.

When he got inside, he was greeted with an argument. The gist appeared to be that the store had been robbed, and Camilla was determined to retrieve the stolen goods, much to her brother’s horror. Dyce was amused. Camilla was a handsome Imperial woman, and mid-argument her dark eyes flashed, and her cheeks were flushed.

Determined and fiery. Yeah, he could see the appeal. He folded his arms and leant against the door, and eventually Lucan noticed he was there and apologised for the argument.

Dyce grinned, “Quite all right. Are you still open? I’m looking to buy some arrows.” While Lucan served him, Camilla eyed him up and down, from his dusty leather boots to the blade at his hip to his ragged hair.

“Are you an adventurer?” she asked.

“I might be.”

“Ah, maybe you can retrieve something for us,” Lucian said. “So you don’t have to go,” he added in a harder tone to his sister.

“Is that your plan is it? Well I think your helper needs a guide.”

“Well I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow,” Dyce said. “I’ll be back then.”

When he left the shop, he was certain of one thing; neither Faendal or Sven were a match for Camilla. He knew he’d be welcome at the blacksmith and he went back there to sleep. After he’d written some letters.

~~~
Dyce sat on a fallen log in the forests near Riverwood, and watched the butterflies dance in the morning sunlight. It looked to be a beautiful day, for now at least. Faendal appeared out of the shadows, as silent as a cloud in the sky.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, when he spotted Dyce.

Some crunching of leaves and snapping of branches preceded the arrival of Sven.

“What’s he doing here?” Sven demanded. “Where’s Camilla? What’s going on?”

They glared at each other.

“Well you see,” Dyce said. “You aren’t the only ones who can forge letters. Now hear me out.” He held up his hands, to forestall any angry tirades. “Writing fake letters is beneath you both. You’re both here now, you can sort it out like men. And don’t worry, I’ll referee - no one’s going to get hurt.”

Much.

“Of all the sneaky underhanded-”

“You started it!” They turned on each other and the arguing began in earnest. Dyce rocked back and stared at the sky, and let it wash over him.

“What she’d ever see in you I can’t imagine-”

“You said last night he had eyes like blue mountain flowers,” Dyce pointed out helpfully.

“He did?” Sven looked a bit nonplussed.

“To be fair,” Dyce added. “This was after you said he was tanned and lean.”

“Well, yes,” he spluttered. “There has to be some competition otherwise I wouldn’t bother worrying about it.”

“Oh please,” Faendal snapped. “You sing like you could get any girl in the world.”

Dyce grinned as he watched them glare at each other, not exactly nose to nose, thanks to the height difference, but they made a nice picture anyway.

“Well, you’ve got your hunting and so on. Bringing home trophies all the time in all weathers.”

Faendal seized Sven’s hand, “Look at this skin. There’s not a mark on it.”

They continued to eyeball each other, breathing heavily.

“Maybe,” Dyce said.

They both turned to him and chorused, “What?”

“Maybe you’re equally appealing. It might come down to who can please her better.”

“And how are we supposed to tell that?” Sven asked.

Dyce grinned, “I told you I’d referee.”

Sven spluttered, “What are you suggesting? I’m not going to- to-”

“Coward,” Faendal said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully as he looked at Dyce. “Fortune, and Camilla, favours the bold.” So saying he stepped up to Dyce, cupped his hands around the Breton’s face and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

Dyce merely grinned and went with it, parting his lips and letting the Bosmer have his way with his mouth. Clearly the hunter had worked up an appetite while he was out in the wilds, his teeth scraping at Dyce’s lips and his tongue sliding over Dyce’s.

“All right, that’s enough,” Sven said, when it became clear Faendal wasn’t in a hurry to come up for air. “I said, stop kissing him!” He physically forced them apart and glared at Faendal who merely looked smug and licked his lips.

“What?” Faendal asked.

“You’re, you’re doing it wrong,” Sven declared defensively. “You must be gentle with a maiden, not like some, wild untamed ravenous passionate beast.”

Dyce bit his lip in an effort to keep a straight face, “Well, show him what you’ve got.”

“Right, I will.” Sven set his jaw. Then he leaned in and kissed Dyce sweetly and gently, his warm, soft lips against Dyce’s slightly chapped ones. He hummed and reached up to stroke the side of Dyce’s face.

Dyce slitted his eyes open, watching Faendal scowl and fret at as Sven sighed and murmured against Dyce’s mouth. Maybe he just needed an extra push.

Or in this case, a pull.

Dyce reached around and pulled Sven against him, watching Faendal flinch as he did so. Not enough? Sven had his arms around Dyce now, presumably appreciating his tan and his muscles. Dyce grinned wickedly and slid his hands down Sven’s back, cupping the bard’s arse and giving it a proper squeeze.

“By the Nine! Just stop!” Faendal actually grabbed the back of Sven’s collar and hauled him out of Dyce’s embrace. Dyce let him go.

“You’re just jealous because I’m winning,” Sven said.

“He had his hands all over you!”

They snapped and snarled at each other and Dyce sighed. “Just fuck and get it over with.”

“What?” They were looking at him again.

“What I said- what I meant was, this isn’t working. Maybe you should compete more directly. Get out some measuring tape. Whatever it takes. Just kiss him already!”

“Kiss him?”

“Kiss you?”

“Um.”

“Well.”

They looked at each other and Faendal sighed and pushed himself up on his toes and kissed Sven firmly on the mouth. When his heels touched the ground again, Sven ducked his head and kissed him back. They stared at each other some more.

It was impossible to tell who moved first but they practically leaped into each other’s arms. Faendal ran his fingers through Sven’s long blonde hair, and Sven clamped his arms around Faendal and kneaded his back. They kissed with no technique, sloppy and desperate and making little sounds in the back of their throats.

“Finally,” Dyce said.

They didn’t react to Dyce. Faendal tugged Sven down and then they tripped and landed in the grass, Sven falling between Faendal’s legs. That barely interrupted them as they untucked each other's shirts and fumbled with the catches on their tunics.

They rolled in the grass, gasping and grinding against each other.

“You’ve completely forgotten I’m here, haven’t you?” Dyce smiled and shook his head. After all the effort it had taken to get this far, he wasn’t going to risk starting another argument by angling for an invitation to the party.

Sven was on his back now, his shirt open as Faendal pressed kisses down his chest and stomach, tugging at his belt. Dyce stepped over to them, and looked down at Sven before kneeling and placing a little bottle in his outstretched hand.

“You might not use it, but it’s best to be prepared.” He bowed out, as gracefully as possible.

~~~
“So to cut a long and dirty story short, well, the bad news is, I’ve lost you your suitors.”

Camilla frowned and folded her arms, stepping out onto the bridge and looking at the water.

“Well, I might have been more upset if I knew I had suitors to start with.” She turned back to him. “I thought they were my friends, but now I find out they were just hoping to bed me? And that I wasn’t even who they really wanted anyway?”

Dyce didn’t tell her to calm down. He’d be annoyed too. “Well, I suppose. One way or another you’re going to find out what kind of friends they are now. I think they were just confused. I’m sure they still like you.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “This town is driving me crazy.”

Dyce gave her a sympathetic look. She smiled at him.

“I suppose you worked things out for the best in the end. You never did get a reward from them, did you? I suppose as their best friend who is happy that they’re happy, I should give you one.”

Dyce inclined his head as she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. He could smell her perfume. She pulled away sharply.

“I shouldn’t make a scene.” She glanced down the road out of town. “I wish I could go with you.”

“You’re not really dressed for adventuring.”

“The claw is not worth your life. Come back safe.”

Sven and Faendal eventually made it back to Faendal’s house, once they’d relocated all their clothes. They were sitting across from each other at Faendal’s table, awkwardly eating dinner.

“So.”

“So.”

Faendal sighed, “We could never mention this again.”

“We could.” Sven started tearing his bread into little pieces. It irked Faendal no end.

“Well, say something, you idiot. You’re the bard.”

“What do you want me to do? Write a song about you?”

Faendal blinked, “Do you want to write a song about me?”

“No! I don’t know. This is so confusing. It’s that Breton’s fault.”

“I can’t believe he gave you this.” Faendal picked up the bottle, which was still sealed, and had been sitting accusingly in the center of the table. “And he didn’t give you any instructions?” He squinted at the back. “The writing’s a bit vague.”

“I don’t think it was really the time for instructions! Did you want him to join in? Did you like him better than me? You were awfully quick to kiss him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I like you better. I mean, not like. I find your more attractive. No, I mean I just want to-”

They sighed.

“It was really fun,” Sven confessed.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Really?” Faendal looked up from his plate. “Ah, you still live with your mother. You’re a virgin.”

“I wouldn’t really put it like that,” Sven trailed off at the expression on Faendal’s face. He swallowed, “What are you planning on doing? If you think I’m going to submit to you.”

“You haven’t given me any reason to think otherwise.”

“Give me that bottle!”

“Come and get it.”

There was a crash as Sven’s chair fell over as he lunged over the table at Faendal. The elf slipped away, but Sven refused to give up, and the there was nowhere to run to in Faendal’s small house. They crashed around and the bottle rolled under a chest of drawers and they tumbled onto the bed, and they hissed insults as they slithered out of their clothes and Sven bit Faendal’s shoulder and Faendal pulled his hair.

“Brute!”

“Soft! Weakling!”

Sven was in no way soft right then. He tugged roughly at Faendal’s cock as if trying to make a point and the elf returned the gesture and Sven’s hands felt so good, compared to his own and they bucked against each other. They forgot they were meant to be insulting each other entirely.

“So beautiful,” Faendal said. Truly he had a Nordic god in his bed. A Nordic god who was stunned and aroused by every freckle and scar, and who could barely keep his hands off Faendal’s biceps, constantly kneading and squeezing his muscles. Groaning when Faendal flexed them.

They were too much for each other, and despite their earlier adventures, they came again, their names mingling on each other’s lips.

Later, they watched the fire from Faendal’s bed.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“What are we going to tell Camilla?”

~~~

A/N: Hey OP, I feel like I left Camilla at a bit of a loose end. Would you like me to write a bit more covering what happens once Dyce returns with the claw? It was a bit outside the scope of the prompt, so I thought I’d ask first.

Tags: char:M!DB char:Faendal char:Sven relationship:slash kink:humour kink:handjobs series:dyce

Loving the dynamic between these two!

Haha this made me smile, and I needed something fun and silly today. Awesome as always Dyce!Anon

Seconding this.

(especially since OP mentioned the College of Winterhold)

We're gonna need a bigger fan.

Ooooh, yes, yes, keep going~. This site needs more Ondolemar, is what I think.

Thank you!
I wasn't aware I had this many people still actively stalking me...
I'm currently working on a short third fill, separate from Alone, that tells part of Serano's background story (didn't post it yet).
I'll finish that one first before I get back to Alone, but it probably won't take longer than a few days to finish and post it on the meme.

Well I mean, if the question is "should I write more Dyce fic," the answer's always going to be yes please.

Also I woke up today with deadlines on my brain, so finding this here was like opening my door to a cake made of real unicorns and fairy dust. I kind of did that Cookie-Monster-receives-giant-cookie thing.

This anon would love to see a follow up for Camilla. See a little more of that fire that's been banked for too long.

Is the frowny mask Otar or Rahgot?

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Any/Any/Any - love triangle in multiple senses

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OP

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