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Holy crap Anon, that's a compliment and a half.

Yeah, I write a lot of fanfic. I consider it practice for one day writing more original stuff.

This is me: http://skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal.com/2924.html?thread=1088620#t1088620

I also write for the Mass Effect and Fallout Kink Memes.

You can stalk me on FF.net or AO3 as well (My stories are almost all there with the same titles.) I'll probably get this up within an hour or two.

Glad you enjoyed it, OP. I'm working on the next bit, but I'm not sure how long it's gonna take.

This one I sat down and wrote 2,000 words in one go. The next may take a bit more finesse.

AELIA DOUGLASS P{SDGHGSIOGHDSGIDSKL

IT IS AN HONOUR MA'AM

O___O

Oh god. You're welcome?

I've never had anyone get so excited over me filling their story before. I'm like, flailing right now.

Thanks OP. <3

I'm agreeing with the OP! No one writes a big, sexy brute of a man like you do.

I married Argis in my last playthrough simply because of 'Painted Lady'.

You're a treasure and a talent, my lady.

Oooh, the DB "waking up" the dragons is brilliant.

I imagine DB wouldn't be impressed with the wizards' treatment of the dragons anyway, so why not team up with the dragons? Put a sufficiently dark spin on it and DB basically does what Alduin did...

Yeah, and what if DB specializes in Conjuration? Wouldn't (s)he be immediately branded a Dark wizard? Death Eater, even, which would be seriously annoying, because then DB would have no choice but to somehow contact the real Death Eaters just to get information. Can you imagine DB dealing with Voldemort? Hilarious.

*more flailing*

Thank you so much for the compliments. Sometimes I feel like my writing is crap and then people comment and I'm like "wait, people read my writing?!"

I didn't really have a thing for Argis until I wrote him, that's the ironic bit there. I was like "meh, he's alright" and then I started writing the story and it was like... holy crap, Argis.

So yeah. :D

Part II: Mercenary

Some six months down the road, Kathryn still occasionally thought of the bandit. She wondered if he thought of her. If he’d found a more “respectable” line of work, or if he’d just moved to a different area. She’d gone by the cave his bandits had populated and it had been deserted, all items of value had been removed. She’d sighed, and left.

Even as she’d left the first time, Kathryn had been all-too aware that what the bandit had probably been was a good lay she’d never meet again. And really, she had been okay with that at the time.

But she found herself comparing all her lovers since to him. The bandit whose name she didn’t even know.

After each vaguely disappointing encounter, she’d waited longer before trying again with someone else. Still she was never satisfied. They were too big, too small, too hairy, too smooth. Their hands were too rough, too soft. No matter what, there was something that reminded her that it was not him.

It had been about a month since she’d last found herself a lover, and she was tired of sleeping alone.

That night, she went to Candlehearth Hall, hoping for some mead, and perhaps some company. She got a tankard of mead, and found a table where she could survey the area. Stenvar, one of the local sellswords she hadn’t seduced, raised his glass in salute. She nodded back, noting the wink he sent her.

Her habits were known, apparently.

She laughed a little, and let it go. It wasn’t worth getting bothered over the truth, and nobody seemed to mind. If anything, it made her odds a bit better. She caught hopeful glances from a few young Nords by the bar, but none of them had the air of experience that she looked for.

A door clattered out of her sight, and she saw Stenvar glance at it. He raised his hand to greet whoever had entered, and Kathryn found her interest peaked.

“Roliand!” He rose from his chair and greeted the dark-haired Nord with a few thumps on his back. Roliand—the new arrival—gave himself a good shake and settled into a chair beside Stenvar. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face, but she had this feeling that she knew him.

Kathryn was intrigued enough that she couldn’t resist crossing the room to join Stenvar and his guest.

She slid easily into the third seat, her eyes on the server wandering the room. She waved for a new drink. The girl nodded, and headed off to retrieve more mead.

That was when Kathryn’s attention fell back on her tablemates. Her eyes met those of the new arrival, and she froze, her mouth going dry.

It was him.

His smile was back, lazy and predatory as he let his eyes roam over her. There was a challenge there, one that she was certain she could rise to.

“Roliand, is it?” She asked, keeping her tone carefully casual even as she fought the urge to jump on him here in the middle of the room. Instead she forced herself to lean back in her chair as though she were calm.

“Aye,” Roliand was as cool as she was, nothing more than the look in those brilliant blue eyes telling her that he was as aware of who she was. “And you are..?”

“Kathryn.”

“She’s a Companion,” Stenvar said by way of introduction. “And Roliand here is my protégé.”

The drinks she’d ordered arrived then, the round she’d bought for them all going a long way to distract Stenvar from examining the looks passing between his companions. If he did notice them, at least, he was neither bothered nor particularly interested in them.

As the mead and ale flowed, Kathryn felt herself relaxing. Stenvar talked, telling old “war stories” to his tablemates, the words filling what might have otherwise been an awkwardly intense silence. As the night moved along, the looks between herself and Roliand lingered longer, and the playful touches became something else.

Finally, Stenvar excused himself, murmuring something about enough ale. Kathryn wasn’t entirely sure. Her mind hadn’t been on the man even as he’d spoken, or she might have noticed the knowing smirk he gave them.

For the most part, the upper floor of Candlehearth hall had emptied as they’d been there. A quick glance around the room ensured Kathryn that the only people left were so far into their cups that there was no point in worrying about them eavesdropping.

“So, Roliand,” She sat forward, elbows on the table, fingers templed before her lips. “How does one go from bandit leader to old mercenary’s protégé?”

“How did you go from bumbling mercenary to a companion?” he retorted, one dark eyebrow twitching higher. “Things change.”

She was tempted to pursue that, to poke at him until he told her more. What she really wanted to know was if their last encounter had changed him as it had her, and if he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

“Not too much, I hope?” She asked, standing carefully. “I’ve a room, if you’re interested.”

He stayed seated, and she resisted the urge to give into the wave of disappointment she felt. She’d hoped he was interested in her still, but clearly that had been too much to ask for. To preserve her pride, she kept walking. Behind her, his chair scraped across the floor. She smiled. Perhaps held more promise than she’d initially thought.

He was silent as they traversed the short distance from their table to her room, the only hint that he was even there was the sound of his feet on the floorboards just behind her, and even that was quieter than she would have expected from him. When they reached her door, and she fumbled with the latch, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him.

“I had hoped to see you again, princess.” He whispered, his breath stirring the hair by her ears. His lips brushed against her earlobe, and she felt herself angling her head to give him access to her neck. He chuckled, and she felt his chest vibrate against her back, and then his teeth were grazing across the sensitive skin and she was sighing and softening in his arms.

Her fingers fumbled clumsily at the door, but she got it open, and drew him in behind her. The door clicked shut, and she flipped the lock.

She looked up at him, her smile growing with each passing moment. She’d rented the room hours earlier, so most of her armor and heavier gear was stowed here. She wore a simple dress, the bodice cut low enough to show the swells of her breasts, the lacings tight enough to show her trim waist. The skirts were full enough to fall nicely off the flare of her hips. She only owned one dress, and had made a point of getting it tailored to show her at her best.

Because if it didn’t make her look and feel beautiful, then what was the point.

She’d seen Roliand’s gaze on her cleavage at the table, had known that at the very least he was physically interested in her. She had not, however, been so certain that his interest would translate into... this.

He was armored, unsurprisingly, in another Nord favorite. The steel was certainly of higher quality than the leather he’d worn before, so she had to assume mercenary work had gone well for him financially. It fit him well, even. She closed the distance between their bodies, and pressed herself against him.

“So tell me, handsome,” Her lips feathered kisses along his jaw as she unbuckled his armor efficiently. “Did you miss me?”

His hands caught her waist as he turned his head to claim her lips. His hands slid down her body until he was holding her ass, pulling her hard against him. His tongue pressed against her lips, which she parted to give him entrance. He took advantage of the gesture to capture her lower lip and nibble on it.

When he pulled back a moment later, she used the gap between them to finish removing the armor on his upper body.

Once again he was topless before her, and she was reminded of just how perfect a specimen he really was. There were a few scars that had to be recent, his skin the brighter pink of a new scar instead of the faded whiteness of old scarring. Her fingers gently traced the marks, an unintentional gesture of tenderness and concern.

Of course he noticed.

“I think you’re the one who missed me, princess.” His fingers worked at the bodice of her dress, unfastening the garment easily and sliding it off her shoulders. He tugged it down until it fell from her body, pooling on the floor by her feet. He let his gaze roam over her, taking her in.

She saw when he noticed her newest scar, a long, jagged mark that ran from one collarbone to the opposite hip. His dark brows knit, and his lips drew into a frown. His question was clear.

“Dragon,” she explained. “I got too close, and it hit me with one of its talons.”

The unexpected display of emotions was too much for her. She had wanted a quick hard fuck, like they’d had back in the cave, not some meaningful reunion. That sort of thing was for someone she loved, and Roliand was really just a good lay.

She caught his shoulders and spun him around before shoving him back onto the bed. He caught her and pulled her down with him, twisting so she landed below him in a tangle of limbs. He shifted until he was between her thighs, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

He supported himself on one arm as his lips and teeth once more teased her neck. His free hand caught her breast, playing with her nipple, rolling it between his fingers and pinching it. Her hands ran along his back, her nails scraping against the skin. It made him more aggressive, and she felt the feeling of him biting her harder at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

She rubbed herself against him, her hips moving so she could feel his erection through his pants.

She wormed her hand between them, undoing his pants and sliding them down his hips, until his cock was free. It was as good as she remembered, hard and large. He pulled back enough to shove his pants further down his thighs, so they were mostly out of his way, and then he caught her legs over his arms and pressed her knees toward her ears.

She squirmed only a little, repositioning herself so it was possible. And then he was pressing into her again, going deep and filling her. It was amazing, better than she remembered. And certainly better than anything she’d had since.

He thrust into her hard, withdrawing and slamming forward again, hard and fast. But it was what she needed. She needed him this way, hot and demanding and hard. She wanted to ache from him, for him to fill her just like this. Her gasps became moans, which came with increasing frequency as he sped up his pace.

She could tell he was getting close from the way he moved, and she knew that if she didn’t take care of herself, only one person would come tonight. So she reached between them and rubbed her own clit in time with his thrusts. He noticed, but didn’t complain—as a lesser man might have—instead, shifting his position slightly so she could reach better.

The new angle was excellent, and she felt her orgasm building fast.

He came hard with a series of erratic thrusts, and she was close, so close but not quite there. He noticed, and kept thrusting at her for a few moments longer, until she was arching and clenching and her moans turned into a strangled cry.

He sagged against her. And then he withdrew, leaving her cold and empty. He stood, and moved as if to leave.

“Wait,” she said, her hand on his arm. “Stay.”

Roliand looked at her for what felt like an eternity before nodding. He stretched out in the bed, then reached over and pulled her over, tucking her against him.

“Just tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple.

“Mhmm.” She agreed sleepily. Come morning he could go wherever he damn well pleased, but for tonight, he was here with her.

Any particular Imperial? I'm thinking of Tulius or Marcurio if I do this.

Oooh, this was sweet, slightly bittersweet, and very hot!

I love what you have so far, and cant wait to read more!

It's a fertile area of research for illusion mages.

Aela masturbating with a skyrim-y sex toy. I've seen toys in other fics, but for couples' use. I'd like Aela masturbating, with some kind of tamrielian dildo, just enjoying her fine body.

Weird request, I know, but squicks are anal, blood, bathroom stuff, noncon.

Yes, it's a cliché, but Skyrim's climate just begs for some bad weather snuggle fic. So the snow's three feet deep, or the mud's three feet deep, or the icy wind is enough to grow icicles on a Greybeard's beard, or the storm is powerful enough to wash a ship right up onto the docks.

The DB and their companion (any gender, any race) might not always get along, might not even agree on anything, might not even trust each other, but it's definitely better with two in this weather. I'd like to see the relationship improve - doesn't have to end in sex or even snogging (although that would be nice) but I'd like to see the DB get closer to a companion unexpectedly, perhaps unexpected for both of them, with the weather as the catalyst.

Fluff is yes. Het, slash and femslash are yes. Threesome is yes. Not really looking for hardcore kinks (definitely no non-con or dubcon.) Rarely used NPCs are awesome. Surprise me.

As a character, Onmund's grown on me. He's cute, sweet, and I like his backstory as a guy who's caught between cultures - he's studying to be a mage while wanting to respect his Nord traditions, he's in a new place and working hard but his parents don't support him. The poor kid's probably under a fair amount of stress and could stand to unwind.

Can somebody - anybody - please rail this boy in the whatchamahoozit until he's seeing stars?

No noncon or dubcon, he should be spent and smiling afterwards. Show him a good time, anons.

(and I'm not specifying slash only, if anyone wants to write strap-on porn that's fine by me!)

Certainly OP doesn't mind a third fill by a first time poster, yes? This may not be as fluffy as you're wanting, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Tags: char:derkeethus, char:f!pc, race:argonian, relationship: gen, es: skyrim

------------------

"That's it," Derkeethus was careful to keep his voice no louder than a whisper, "sleep, my son." his gaze remained focused on the small bundle he gently rocked back and forth in his arms. He was also mindful of the sleeping dog, Meeko, laying near the fireplace. The hatchling he held, who was losing the fight against the increasingly overwhelming urge to sleep, wearily stared back up at him for a few moments more. A soft smile formed on Derkeethus's face. Their child really did have his mother's beautifully amber colored eyes. His smile dissipated at the thought of his beloved wife, for he did miss her terribly. She had been gone for five days as of that night, but it wasn't as if all the dragons and what not in Skyrim would stop what they were doing now that they had a son of their own. It was a nice thought though.

Derkeethus breathed a hushed sigh of relief when his son appeared to be genuinely falling asleep, but he didn't dare let up on his rocking or even sit down. He'd prefer not to endure another two hours of attempting - and failing - to lull the infant to sleep. Unfortunately for him, he didn't seem to be quite as skilled as his mate when it came to soothing their child. Amusingly enough, Derkeethus was quite certain he had gotten more sleep while they had been adventuring across the region, and that included plenty of sleepless nights back then. Of course, he wouldn't trade what he had now for all the hours of undisturbed sleep he could ever want.

The argonian slowed his pacing, watching the now slumbering infant a few moments longer. Confident that it was safe to lay him down in his own smaller bed nearby, Derkeethus began making his way over to it as quietly as he could. The bed built for two just on the other side of the room called to him despite the fact it would no doubt feel rather empty with one side unoccupied, but he didn't dare rush himself and risk waking his son.

Upon reaching the infant's bed, he gradually lowered his child onto it and delicately placed a kiss on the tiny argonian's forehead. Once that was done, he took a step back and observed him just a bit longer. "Sleep well, my son," he whispered and left the bed's side to climb into his own. He wasn't even going to bother changing out of his casual attire.

Just as he slid under his blankets, an unmistakeable sound from outside reached him. It was faint due to the fact he was indoors, and not to mention it sounded rather far off. Still, there was no doubt about what creature owned the call.

A dragon's roar.

At that very moment, Meeko instantly raised his head. With eyes wide open and ears perked up, the dog had immediately become fully alert.

"Meeko..." Derkeethus warned in a very low tone, looking over to make sure his son was still asleep. The infant still slept, but now Derkeethus was uncertain how long that would last.

The canine glanced in his direction before turning his attention back to the door, growling.

"No, Meeko. No!" Derkeethus tried to sound as stern as he could without actually raising his voice.

Meeko spared him another glance before standing up and making his way to the door, his growling growing louder.

"Please! Don't!" the argonian was practically begging a dog to allow him just a few hours of peaceful slumber.

When the accursed dragon roared a second time, Meeko barked once before erupting into a full barking session complete with scratching at the door and even barking in Derkeethus's direction with his tail wagging as if he were trying to tell him they should go dragon hunting at three in the morning.

Sure enough, the small child stirred from his sleep mere moments later and began to wail as loud as his tiny lungs would allow.

Derkeethus fell back onto his pillow in defeat. That damn dog never listened to him, why would he start now?

Delightful A!A, can't wait for more!

So good! So hot!

I'm not the OP, but

an Argonian fill
and it's Derkeethus
with a baby and a dog

:D I love this.

Wait, YOU wrote The Painted Lady and the Lila/Farkas fanfics?! You're why I'm going for either Argis or Farkas in my first playthrough! Gaaaaah, you're the cause of my addiction to Skyrim fanfics D:
.....Would that make you my dealer? XD

Bound got stuck in my head for a good week or two. You could say it was "bound" to my memory, haha.

I'll definitely follow you on FF.net. Though... that means less sleep for me, and I'm okay with that.

I looove the bandit story so far. I feel like a kid that just won the lottery and entered the greatest candy store on Earth.

I'm so addicted to this story that I'm going to need a rehab once it's completed... after I print it out, of course.

Protip~

If you have Hearthfire, you can build a house and Argis can be your steward and you can marry Farkas, and then you can pretend your Dragonborn is having threesomes with her manly men.

*cough*

I mean, I didn't do that. >__>;

But you can't get Farkas as a steward so...

Orrrrrrrrrr maybe I'm crazy. Apparently Argis is either bugged or can't be steward.

So I got Erik the Slayer. So Erik and Farkas hang out at home, and Argis travels Skyrim with my DB.

AuthorNon's Note: Galmar Muse is pissing me off, so I'm going with this fill before continuing that one. I need to be mean to my Muses. Also, I would very much appreciate any and all feedback, and please let me know if I need to amend my tags at all.

Tags: genre: angst, race: nord, char: farkas, char: female dragonborn

"Now we can journey together to Sovngarde when the time comes! I believe I will stay here a while and meditate upon Ysgramor, my love," Farkas said happily.

Idunn smiled uneasily and swallowed hard. She left Ysgramor's Tomb without a word. She began to trot, then jog.

He wants me to join him in Sovngarde? He expects it... But I can't! Even without the Beast Blood's ties to Hircine... Idunn ran harder.

*-*-*

Farkas felt like a changed man when he returned to Jorrvaskr. Vilkas met him in the mead hall wearing a serious expression; he had never been comfortable with Farkas and the newest Companion sharing a bed.

"The Harbinger wishes to see you, brother. She asked that you join her in the Underforge."

*-*

Idunn was meditating before one of Hircine's Totems when Farkas entered the great stone chamber.

"Idunn, my love? You wished to see me?" Farkas called softly.

The tall, dark-haired Nord stood and turned in a single, graceful movement. Farkas grinned warmly and dragged her close for a passionate kiss.

"Want to desecrate one of the Totems?" Farkas asked in a deep, lusty growl.

"No, Farkas," Idunn said seriously. "There are things we must discuss."

Farkas gazed at her, his mate, his love, and he felt chilled to the bone.

"What's wrong, Idunn? Have I done something? Is this- Is it because of the Frostbite Spiders?"

Idunn shook her head. They walked to the gap that led to Whiterun's plains. Without meeting his eyes, Idunn took Farkas' hand in hers. He squeezed her tight. With her free hand she fished in her pack and produced a sword, a beautiful thing, wrought of Ebony, with red magickal runes running along the blade, and featuring a peculiar circular design under the pommel that looked like a moon in eclipse. That design looked like something he'd seen once before, but it was Vilkas who remembered things from books.

"What is this?"

"I'm not surprised you don't know it on sight. They are very rare. It is a Nightingale Blade. The Nightingales are an elite part of the Thieves' Guild. We answer to the Daedric Prince Nocturnal: we entered a special covenant, and shall serve her unto death and after," Idunn spoke quietly, without emotion or inflection, and refused to meet Farkas' gaze.

"My love?"

"I cannot meet you in Sovngarde, Farkas. I have already made arrangements for my afterlife."

*-*-*

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"Bandit: A Love Story" -- 2a/? -- F!DB/M!Bandit

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