Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

[skyrimkinkmeme]

  CLOSED FOR PROMPTS,

BUT OPEN FOR FILLS

HELPFUL TIPS

>Please post your prompts with the paired characters and any notable kinks/trigger warnings in the title.
>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.

Comments

Garther/F!thief!DB

[(Anonymous)]

I just think it's soooo charming when he says "Still learning the ropes, but I'll get the hang of it." Not only is he a newbie to the thieves guild but he's a bit of a newbie thief!

Personally I only got Garthar entering the guild after completely finishing the main thieves guild questline. SO would love a story about an a very adept/impressive thief DB showing Garthar the ropes and helping him out at times. Lovin ensues eventually (optional).

Big bonus points if Garthar is a bit star struck when he first sees DB but doesn't talk to her right away, and constantly bothers vex for stories/info about DB.

(I imagined this as an AU where the PC is just a prominent member of the thieves guild, that got it back on it's feet, rather than DB+whatever but that's just an idea)

Summerset Shadows/Niruin

[(Anonymous)]

So I read something I hadn't, before, in the official primaguide on Niruin (the Bosmer archer in the Cistern)! Basically, it says that rich boy here is not the best thief around, really, but he's kept around because of his mouth.

Is that so. :3

I propose a sort of AU. Wherein when the Summerset Shadows in Windhelm start acting up, it's not the DB who's sent to deal with them, but Niruin. And Bad End happens--or is it good end? As the Shadows and Linwe do what any bunch of amoral rogues would do when handed a pretty little wood elf on a silver platter and designate him their sex toy. Kinks: noncon to dubcon, gangbang, multiple penetration, height difference (since the shadows are altmer) and deepthroat are all acceptable though all do not have to be incorporated.

Summerset Surprise 1/5

[(Anonymous)]

Tags: char:Niruin kink:non-con kink:groupsex

Although he hid it with a typical veneer of bravado, Niruin had always thought that the most humiliating moment of his life was when his father had disowned him. As he tried not to gag on the Altmer cock being shoved down his gullet however, he was reconsidering this appraisal. The laughing audience didn't help one bit.

It hadn't started out well at all. His routine had been interrupted by Brynjolf quite abruptly, much to Niruin's displeasure, demanding that he investigate a rival guild. He protested immediately.
"What, you want me to sneak in and investigate them? Surely Vex would be better suited?"
"Not just investigate lad- if you find anything, be sure to shut them down." Niruin felt more than a little patronised by the way his point had been evaded.
"But Vex-"
"Vex is laying low for the moment, you know that. I thought you wanted more adventure in your life?"
"Yes, and the thrills I get from trying to fix gambling matches is more than enough."
"Ay, that hasn't been going well lately, has it? Perhaps a change of scene would help you, for a while." It was not a suggestion. Niruin tried for another volley.
"What about that new fellow? He'd probably love this sort of thing! My talents are best suited elsewhere, you can see that."
"Believe me I would, but he's got other things on his mind, and so have I. What part of what I'm saying are you not clear about? Stop idling around here trying to get people to buy you drinks and go. Find. This. Other. Guild."
His tone was not to be argued with, Niruin could hear that. He thought idly of returning to Valenwood, to the outfit there, but...no. Best left alone. He agreed.

He really should have argued more. Or just lied and said he'd looked but found nothing, ah well what do you expect, not his field and all that. But the scorn with which he had been bossed around had irked him. True, he wasn't at the top of the pile, but he wouldn't be treated like a lackey, and coming back with a rival guild under his feet would soon remedy that. He found the information easily, and tracked the so called 'Summerset Shadows' to their little cave. He smirked a little when he found the name of their group. Altmer were not known for their imaginations, he suspected his idiot cousin could have thought of something better. In fact, he half expected to find a group of young idiots playing at thievery, easy to frighten off, and maybe even get them running errands for himself. Idiot!

It was a stupid mistake. He'd crept in with ease, hidden in the shadows, and had an arrow poised; his target moved and he stepped backwards, bumping into a table and knocking off a variety of random tat some idiot had piled on it. They saw him immediately.
"Shit." He turned to run, but they were fast, had him surrounded and overpowered in what seemed like no time at all. He was renowned for his archery, but when he tried to fight with his dagger they disarmed him easily, twisting his arm behind his back in a painful manner. Yet another example of why he should have stuck to what he was good at.

Listener/Cicero "I'm just not that into you..."

[(Anonymous)]

I see a lot of fills where Cicero is totally infatuated with the Listener, well how about we turn it around? The Listener is head-over-heels for the weird little jester, and he's just not interested. Maybe she's not his type? Or maybe he's too insane to really return her affections?

Would prefer F!Listener, but M!Listener is fine too. Not picky on the race.

Squicks: Anal, watersports/scat, non-con. I'm cool with anything else.

Re: Listener/Cicero "I'm just not that into you..."

[(Anonymous)]

I've had an idea for this for a while. I think I can fill it.

Aicantar begging for it

[(Anonymous)]

i just read Cross Cultural Courtship, and HEAVILY ENJOYED IT. But now the image of Aicantar getting fucked senseless and begging for it will not. leave. me. alone.

so uh...it doesn't have to be the same A!Anon who wrote CCC, but i would like the db to be male and nord.

Kinks: orgasm denial, biting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, the whole shebang. preferred positions would be doggy style and riding.

squicks: usual bathroom stuff

Re: Aicantar begging for it

[(Anonymous)]

I am faced with a dilemma.

The idea of Aicantar being fucked insensible and begging for it and generally being thoroughly topped is absolutely...delicious. However, I pretty much write Mer and not Men, and reading Cross Cultural Courtship, I don't think I can reproduce that kind of very sweet and fluffy dynamic that original A!Anon had going on there. I can write Aicantar fucked to Oblivion, but not that. Is that acceptable to OP, or a dealbreaker? (I will not be offended at all if you don't want me writing for you, so don't worry about that)

F!DB/LI -To Calm a Dragon

[(Anonymous)]

Every time the Dragonborn kills a dragon, they absorb their soul and knowledge. What if every time the DB absorbs a soul, they begin to have more dragon-like qualities, like shorter tempers or the need to be the dominant one? This sort of thing must put a strain on any relationship, professional or otherwise. Maybe the DB is normally a sweet person, but once they're in their Dragon mode, Gods help whomever is the target of their frustration.

One day, the DB and their LI get in an argument, and she brings it to a whole 'nother level, screaming things akin to "YOU WILL NOT SILENCE A DRAGON!" and keeps glaring with the intensity of 1000 suns. At the end of the rant, she realizes what just happened and is terrified that she's losing herself. How exactly does their LI help her get through this and prove that all is not lost?

Squicks are anything related to toilets and heavy blood play.

Bonus points for a Breton DB and/or a LI who never knew she was the DB until that point because she was trying so hard to keep them in the dark.

Super bonus points if the LI is Brynjolf with the DB already Guild Master, because really, he's the perfect setup. The DB is the one with the power, but he's still ignoring her for whatever it is he's doing.

Re: F!DB/LI -To Calm a Dragon

[(Anonymous)]

Oh my sweetness, this is too good to be true! I've wanted to write something very very similar to this, and I might just have to now. I've got a few case studies due this week, but I should have a part or two by this weekend (if everything goes as planned).

I'm going to try and see if the Breton!DB plays out while writing, but I know Brynjolf will definitely be the LI. Are there any races you would not want, just in case the Breton!DB doesn't play out (not that it shouldn't, all things considered)?

F!DB/Delvin Mallory

[(Anonymous)]

Because this meme is seriously lacking some Delvin lovin'. Any race is fine, but OP has a soft spot for Bretons.

Squicks: non-con, blood play, anything toilet related

Poor Judgment, (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

_{So I don't even know if this is heading toward smut or not. Probably, if only because my unimaginative summary seems to imply it, so why the hell not. I just got inspired because, hell, it's Delvin, and I felt like deploying this DB on the meme.
Summary: In lieu of facing nightmares, Delvin decides to close down the Flagon with the company of a few dozen flagons. Lucky him, the Dragonborn's not much for sleeping either.
Tags: char:delvin, char:f!db, race:breton, kink:fluff}
-----

Vekel smirks, leaning on one hand planted on the bartop while the other pushes the filmy layer on its surface around in lazy circles with an equally dirty rag, prompting the thought, once again, that at the very least the ale is the cleanest thing in here. Not that Delvin, sitting pretty as ever in the fuggy miasma of old stale booze and stagnant second-hand water, is opposed to a bit of muck - not given the things he's had to crawl through in his line of work. "Not sleeping anytime soon, eh, Delvin?"

Delvin matches Vekel's sneering look tit for tat, just two gentlemen appearing to be getting on just fine, all smiles, light and meaningless conversation. Not one occasionally likeable arsehole annoyed at a more frequently likeable, likewise arsehole who doesn't, in fact, want to talk about his trouble sleeping. It's late, they're the only two left awake, and Vekel wants to get to bed as much as Delvin never wants to go near one if he can help it.

Well, not alone and not to sleep, at any rate, but technically speaking he can do certain things on any handy surface, and luckily the whole world consists of one big handy surface called "the ground."

Delvin just shrugs, and takes another swig of ale. "I'll sleep when I'm dead, mate."

Vekel's mouth twitches irritably, but otherwise he maintains the amiable facade - even without the rest of the guild around, pretending nice becomes habit after a while - and shakes his head, sighing somewhat dramatically. "You look like you're halfway there. Tell you what, in the interest of us both getting half a night's sleep, I'll make you a deal: drink as much as you want for free, so long as you promise to be passed out drunk within the hour."

Another shrug, another swig. "Ain't enough of this swill in all of Tamriel to do that, and you can quote me on that." Delvin raps his knuckles absently on the bar. "I'll tell you what, in the interest of us both being sane by morning, why don't you shuffle off to bed and leave me to my own devices? I'll watch the bar."

"No dice, Delvin. I'll be penniless by dawn."

Delvin snorts. "Now that's just insultin'. Would I steal guild money?"

"No, but you'd guzzle guild ale, and then where will I be?"

A soft scrape of fingers over stone alerts both of them to someone coming in from the cistern, the tiny noise so routine neither has to look up from their glaring contest to see who's come to join them. By the time she's halfway to the bar, though, they do anyway, both mentally conceding that their newest guildmate is a finer sight than the other.

Case smiles as if fully aware of this fact before either has a chance to extend the usual greetings, and waves at them by way of wriggling her tanned fingers at the world in general. Her footfalls, as always, are silent and sure, not the shuffling one might expect. "Delvin, Vekel," she says lightly, voice warm and pleasantly husky. Case slides her fingers over the bartop and slips onto the stool next to Delvin, dropping her pack on the floor at her feet.

"Aw, now Vex is gonna feel all neglected," Delvin teases.

Case punches him hard in the shoulder with perfect aim. "Don't play, Vex isn't here."

"Yeah she is, she's right over there," he insists, pointing futilely. "Don't just ignore her, now."

Ulfric/Elisif - Age kink and romance.

[(Anonymous)]

Hello, I would like to request a short or long story abour Ulfric liking Elisif.

According to the game, Elisif is "young" so, I think by her looks it could be around 24-26. And of course Ulfric is a grown man, he kind of seems to be around 40-47.

Elisif is young and puts up a 'mature' front but in the inside she's scared and insecure. I want Ulfric to be a total gentleman, because we know how he's all tough and all that but deep down I can see him as someone who respects women and treats them right UNNNFFF (excuse me).

Anyway, Ulfric maybe met her before when Torygg was still alive and found her very pretty. He maybe found her attractive after he won the war (because screw the Empire) and now he wants to court her! AND HE SUCCEEDS.

I DON'T want Elisif to be a total B, but maybe she's scared because HE DID kill her husband.

You can include your DB in the story, maybe have him/her help Ulfric conquer Elisif's heart.

SPECIFIC PROMPT IS SPECIFIC.

~
TL;DR

After winning the war, Ulfric starts to like Elisif and wants to court her. In return, she's scared because he killed Torygg, but in the end finds herself liking him back.

Your DB maybe helps Ulfric conquer Elisif's heart.

~

DON'T WANT:
-Elisif to be a b*tch.
-Ulfric to be all mean and rude.
-Nothing too dirty when it comes to kinks otherwise go wild.

WANT:
-Gentleman Ulfric.
-Elisif being turned on by age difference (Ulfric is like, almost twice her age).
-ROMANCE.

Give me what you got Anons! :D

Re: Ulfric/Elisif - Age kink and romance.

[(Anonymous)]

Can I just say how much I also want this to be a thing?

Learning Magic

[(Anonymous)]

I imagine traveling with the DB can cause a lot of bodily hazards, so I would like a story about the DB's follower/spouse learning Restoration or Alchemy so they can care for the DB if they get hurt (and themselves as well).

The catch is that follower/spouse isn't really magical, nor has ever really done anything of the sort (maybe even looked down on it before). Do they struggle, or is it surprisingly easy? How does the DB react?

I hope this prompt makes sense.

Re: Learning Magic

[(Anonymous)]

I second this, and perhaps might fill it.

I don't even know if OP is still here but if you are do you have any preference on spouses or relationships or races?

I really don't give a damn about you - F!DB/Vilkas

[(Anonymous)]

Vilkas is not exactly friendly to the DB, we all know that. There are plenty stories that produce a love/hate relationship between the two of them, but I'd like to see something slightly different.

I want the F!DB to be madly in love with Vilkas, but since she's a little self-conscious she can only talk to Vilkas when she's insulting him.

I want him to be entirely clueless and slightly annoyed about the newblood, but I don't want him to either love her or hate her at the beginning. He just doesn't care.

If he finds out how she feels and what will happen then is entirely up to the A!A.

Surprise me! :)

Extra points if the DB is much younger than Vilkas (and thus self-conscious) and maybe a little star-struck when the great and famous Companions actually accept her. Maybe she doesn't even know yet that she's DB and only finds out during the story.

Re: I really don't give a damn about you - F!DB/Vilkas

[(Anonymous)]

Seconded!!!!!!!!!

More Slash Please

[(Anonymous)]

This anon is very depressed. She has also read ALL THE SLASH on the meme. All of it! And although some of the het is exceedingly well-written, it just doesn't hit her buttons and cheer her up like the slash does.

So please would someone write more slash? Ideally, lots of someones.

Favourite Skyrim men:
* Jarl Balgruuf
* Elrindir (the lovely Bosmer who runs The Drunken Huntsman. SO PRETTY!)
* Ulfberth War-Bear (yes, I know he's married)
* Idolaf Battle-Born (also unfortunately married)
* Jon Battle-Born
* Ralof (who escapes with you at the start)
* Eorlund Gray-Mane
* Kodlak Whitemane
* Alvor (of Riverwood)
* Brynjolf
* Roggi Knot-Beard
* Ulfric Stormcloak
* Erandur (the woobie priest from Waking Nightmare)
* Dyce the Incredibly Easy Breton

If you are spotting a long-haired & beardy theme, you may be correct. (I don't know what Dyce looks like, but he's adorable nonetheless).

Anything welcomed, from fluffy, snuggly drabbles up to 15-part hardcore porn without plot. Just... lovely men with other lovely men, please.

Kinks: Hurt/Comfort, Realistic sex (e.g. one orgasm per session - unless enhanced with the Skyrim equivalent of Viagra!)

Squicks: Non-con, Scat, Cicero, Troll fat (please, some other sort of lube!)

Thanks :D

Re: More Slash Please

[(Anonymous)]

Dyce: *peruses menu* Yes, this looks satisfactory. I'll have it.

Waiter: Which, Sir?

Dyce: This. All of it.

Waiter: *boggles*

In other words, Dyce!anon is delighted that someone actually prompted him. I also second the motion for more slash (especially Erandur.) I'll see what I can do myself.

racial phylogeny...

[(Anonymous)]

...of cocks.

Rewrite that game book and make it dirty, anon, Go into long, adoring, lewd detail about the cocks of all the races and how very wonderful they all are.

Re: racial phylogeny...

[(Anonymous)]

Dammit, this is too fun to resist. You got yourself an A!A.

Neetrenaza and LI

[(Anonymous)]

I'd like a romance fanfic (preferably M rated X3) between a Nord woman (either OC or NPC) and Neetrenaza.

Squicks: Bathroom stuff.

Frabbi and Kleppr

[(Anonymous)]

I'd love to see a romance fanfic between Frabbi and Kleppr XDDD.

Sure they're cranky as hell and mean as vipers, but they are married and clearly have a thriving business. What keeps them together?

Squicks: Bathroom stuff.

Mjoll / Aerin

[(Anonymous)]

I know Aerin isn't very popular, but I love how dedicated he is to Mjoll. He saved her life and lets her live at his house without asking for anything in return.

I would loave any A!Anon who could make a cute and fluffy Mjoll/Aerin fic. Maybe Mjoll finally notices how amazing Aerin is. Maybe he decides to wear an Amulet of Mara. Whatever the author thinks of is accepted.

Kinks: Sweet, sweet, fluff.
Squicks: Bathroom stuff.

Re: Mjoll / Aerin

[(Anonymous)]

Ah! I agree with you, OP. They deserve some happiness/fluff! So, SECONDED!

Ralof/Hadvar

[(Anonymous)]

So I don't think I've found ANY Ralof and Hadvar loving. Didn't anyone else just feel the history between these two?! I mean it was almost instant when I played! Anyways what I'm trying to say is, someone please write me a fic with some Hadvar/Ralof slash (doesn't really matter to me how it's written!)

Re: Ralof/Hadvar

[(Anonymous)]

There are two stories already. Check on the Delicious page for char:Ralof. You should find:

Way Back When
I Never Knew Him

Both by the same author!anon.

Gen Promt: Now with more factions!

[(Anonymous)]

So I'm replaying Skyrim (For the 18 billionth time, but that's another story) and I was going through the quests like I normally would. Pick a side, join some guilds that correspond with my character skills, blah, blah, blah... and...I just sort of wanted more. This is a common side effect of playing any game too much and already getting the "Next DLC plz" itch but yeah...if you could write in a new group or a story about an existing group in skyrim...what would it be? The possibilities are endless and you really dont need to have the Dragon Born as the main character. I would really like to see what kmeme would do with this. As always multi-fills are encouraged.

So, so, so... my promt ideas are the following:

1)Create a new faction to toss into the melting pot of Skyrim.

2)Write a story about an existing faction (helpful linky below). (Just a side note... I would personally love to see more stuff involving the Silver hand, or Thief!Elf!DB joining the Summerset Shadows, or the Bard's College actually doing things.)

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Factions

[(Anonymous)]

OP here. You, this- This is amazing~ <3 I can't wait for more~! I'm so excited to see you fill this! 8D

Misfire: From the Bushes

[(Anonymous)]

"It's ok, I forgive you, because I love you." The Dragonborn pleaded. Aela looked up and wiped her tears away, her cheeks red and puffy from crying.

"I don't deserve it." She said still ashamed of her actions. The Dragonborn stepped forward snaking an arm around her waist.

"Yes you do, you just don't know it yet." He tilted her chin up and brought their lips together. Aela's tears drying quickly her arms wrapping around the Dragonborn's neck. She didn't care that they were in the wildness of Whiterun, he could take her right here for all she cared.

There was a rustling in trees and the two Nords pulled apart. They looked off into the trees and spotted a strangely dressed figure. They looked up from the looking device (binoculars) they were using and then shouted.

"OP here!" They gave a wave, Aela and the Dragonborn both cocked an eyebrow. "You, this-this is amazing. I can't wait for more!"

The two Nords stared at each other and looked back to the person in the trees. "I'm just so excited to see you fill this!" They resumed observing them through the device and Aela blushed.

"Have they been-" Aela started not moving her eyes from the person in the trees

"Yep." The Dragonborn nodded mildly horrified.

Delvin/F!DB, If You Catch My Grift; (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

<sub>Unprompted sequel to "Poor Judgment"
http://skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal.com/3603.html?thread=3447059#t3447059

Summary: Case has been playing an awful lot of dress-up, and if it's not for a sexy reason, then Delvin is damn sure gonna find out what the hell it IS for.

Tags: Delvin, F!DB, Breton, voice kink, dirty talk, age kink

A/N: Does grifting count as a kink? Because it sure as fuck does for me. :| Argh Delvin. I very much want to preserve his Cockney charm with missing aitches and T's forever caught in his throat. But in text this leads to a blinding (badum psht) lot of apostrophes, so I have to be clever with my writing to reflect the accent without shoving it down your throats.</sub>

-----

It's a curious thing, how Case effortlessly inspires rumors just by existing.

Their first inebriated conversation revealed to him the source of the scar across her nose, and how she lost her vision. A wholly anticlimactic, uninspired, drama-free affair; so much so that he almost felt gyped. At times, he wonders if she was lying, throwing him off the trail with a bland tale to cover the better one. Now wouldn't that be embarrassing? He told her his sad little insomniac story, or as much of it as he cared to detail, and got utter bullshit in return.

He asked, late one night, sitting up with his back to a heap of embroidered pillows in her bed in Honeyside: "So was it really a hoe and a bad healing spell that did it?" Silence reigned for a solid minute as he sat there, one arm over her shoulders, the other hand before his face, thoughtfully inspecting the cut and quality of a diamond she'd lifted. When he'd realized no answer was forthcoming, he dropped the diamond back down to the pile of other such stolen trinkets pooling in the ridges and valleys of the touseled sheets and looked down at her. Her bare skin draped in glittering gold bracelets, necklaces, rings, and armlets, basking in the pleasures of ill-gotten wealth and good company, she'd responded the way she always does when asked what the real truth might be.

She smiled that mysterious smile, and blatantly changed the subject.

It's maddening, and he's come to realize that's part of the allure, part of the act. For every curiosity, from where she goes when she's gone to what she does and how, from the cause of her blindness to the story behind this scar or that, from why she came to Skyrim to what she left behind in High Rock, from what she felt at Helgen to what she heard at the Throat of the World... For each question one might ask, there's probably a boring answer; instead of give it, she just smiles, implying some big secret. And even knowing that there probably isn't, the nagging possibility remains that maybe, just maybe, there is a big secret.

After all, she's the Dragonborn.

This new thing, however... Well it's not new new, but he's really starting to notice it, because everyone's noticing it.

On Morndas, Case descended the ladder into the cistern wearing stained and torn rags, her hair disheveled, her smooth brown skin covered in fake wounds and blemishes painted by who even knows whatever poor sod she duped into helping her. She'd padded across the brickwork to her own bunk, nodded politely to Rune and Vipir, and, unselfconsciously, stripped down to her small clothes and changed into her guild leathers.

On Middas, she came traipsing through the Flagon dressed in the clothes of a High Rock noble, resplendent in gold jewelry, face artfully and meticulously made up in soft rouges and powders that complemented her fine features and the flowing umber-colored wig she'd obtained.

Today, to Delvin's pleasure, she saunters in from the ratways wrapped in nothing but scant scraps of hide held together with carved bone, the scandalous expanse of visible flesh smeared with blood, dirt, and war paint - the spitting image of a Forsworn. Case plops herself down across from Delvin at his customary table, crossing her bare thighs and holding up one delicate finger in Vekel's direction. A couple minutes later, the barkeep even manages to collect his jaw off the floor and get the drink for her.

If You Catch My Grift; (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

"So I got to ask," Delvin begins, savoring the reactions of the other fellows in attendance; even Bryn, known womanizer (in his own words, "conoisseur"), seems to have stopped listening to whatever drivel Dirge considers an interesting story, which is fine, because even if that were something new and even if Dirge ever noticed losing his audience, right now he's too distracted to keep talking anyway. "What's with all the costumes?"

"Hmm?" Case casually peels the beaded and feathered headwrap off, and tugs out the leather thong that was holding her hair in a tight, high bun underneath. It falls in twisted waves about her neck and shoulders and weaves her usual scent of herbs in with the not-unpleasant aroma of earth and animal she's cultivated for her disguise. "Whatever do you mean?" she asks innocently. "I always dress like this."

"Think I'd have noticed you running around like an 'alf-naked tribal all this time."

Case puts on a surprised and embarrassed expression. "You mean I'm not wearing my guild armor? Oh dear, I wondered why it was so breezy..."

Delvin chuckles lecherously, admiring the interplay of soft skin and toned muscles as she sinks back in her chair and languidly props her ankles up in his lap. When Vekel arrives with her drink, Case casts him a heart-stopping smile and a lewd wink, "accidentally" tracing her fingers across his in a light touch as she accepts it. She looks expectantly to Delvin as Vekel walks away, and Delvin might just be jealous and possessive if he weren't in on the joke. "His ears turn red?" she asks in a conspiratorial whisper.

"As Mehrunes' shiny left buttock."

They snicker together, quietly, but afterward he presses on. "So really, about the get-up."

Case gives him that winning vixen-smile and tips her flagon at him. "It's for a study in greed."

"Ain't a thing new around here about greed, but you don't see me goin' about in my alltogether."

"You're right, I don't." She shrugs. "Of course we're greedy, we're thieves. I've just been cashing in on everyone else's greed." Case doesn't need to see the confusion that screws up his face to hear it in his silence. "By winning confidence," she elaborates, explaining nothing at all.

"You've lost me."

"Grifting, you big goon."

"What, you mean like what Bryn does up at market with his horseshit potions?" Delvin scrubs a hand over his bristly chin, wondering a little at the mental image of a Forsworn, or a Breton émigrée, or a haggard beggar hocking useless goods. He's seen Brynjolf's operation, the Nord all cleaned up spick and span in his finest duds and swapping forgeries or blatantly made-up pieces of junk. He can't figure how inventing characters each time would help.

"No, no, I mean real grifting. You know: salt mines, coin matching, seances."

Delvin shakes his head. "You're completely barmy. You're doin' the shit that takes actually, genuinely, walking up to a mark, making nice, and getting them to hand you their gold for nothin'?" He chuckles, a little taken aback.

Even Brynjolf actually sells things for the gold he reaps with his scams. Granted, what he's selling might be pig's blood mixed with a watered down potion made of charred skeever, wheat, and blue flowers, but at the very least that tiny rush of good feelings that follows the swill down is enough to make the buyer feel like maybe they got something for their money. Any lack of actual god-like powers afterward is explainable by reasoning - with the usual charm and diplomacy - that it's not Bryn's fault the customer has never experienced what it is to be a god before, and therefore didn't figure out how to use said powers in the time before the effects wore off. That little story alone is why the tart at the Bunkhouse always comes back for more.

What Case is doing, however, is the fundamental art of the confidence woman. Of course Delvin's heard of grifting, and there's always that appeal it has, but it's too easy to fail, and too dangerous to get caught. He tells her as much.

Wedding Planner

[(Anonymous)]

I saw a prompt here that focused on the wedding of the Dragonborn, but what if the Dragonborn was the one who planned the wedding of another pairing? From date of wedding to reception and even honeymoon if so desired, everything. I just want to see a Bridezilla made out of an NPC.

The Dragonborn can be any race, any gender, and the pairing can be any that is desired. I'd like to see this happen because it'd be hilarious and cracky and smutty too (the couple can have pre-marital sex if they so wish).

Something that could be an example: anyone seen 'Licence To Wed' with Robin Williams? Make Maramal that sort of priest and it would be too funny. :3

Re: Wedding Planner

[(Anonymous)]

Not OP, but it would be awesome if somebody used Faleen/Calcemo from the Book of Love quest. Both seem kinda clueless and seeking the Dragonborn's help.

"Salve" Het, F!DB Argonian/Erandur, 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Summary : The Dragonborn of few words and little patience decides to find out why Erandur can't keep his pants on. So to speak.

Tags: Anthro, vanilla, hurt/comfort

xxxx

Oraythe gave a grunt, heaving past one last tangle of rocks and roots. Finally, the shimmer of stars indicating the tunnel’s end was in sight. Gods, if the Dragonborn had a gold piece for every time that was her saving grace, she’d own every house in Skyrim. Behind her, clambered a second person Erandur, priest of Mara.

He was older than most who were willing to sign up as a traveling companion, but she trusted him, which was a rare thing. Blinking from the vastness now surrounding them, Oraythe carefully helped the dunmer man up the last few rocks, then whistled sharply, a shaggy gray gelding shuffling forward at the sound.

“Quite a sight, those ruins. But an inn sounds like a good plan now, and a bed.” He chuckled softly, then shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the loose leather armor she’d lent him for their trek through the caves. He’d already gotten the chest piece off, exposing his thin but well-aged form to the cold night air. Oraythe averted her gaze before she could make out too much detail, though she snatched the chest piece from where he’d set it down against the numerous boulders lining the exit to the caves.

“There is hardly any blood on that, Era, leave it on for now.” Oraythe sighed softly, concerned at the priest’s constant need to disrobe. How he managed to not freeze with his insistence on wearing only a cloth robe and one or two underthings, she’d never know.

“I know this, but...” He tugged a glove loose, shoving it into one of the saddlebags as one last act of subtle defiance of her command. He seemed ready to argue more on the point, but a shriek in the distance stilled his hands, ruby eyes flicking to the sky and then to Orathye’s masked face.

“We do not have time for this now, priessst,” was her response. The hiss toward the end was a warning. Erandur knew not to argue with Oraythe further for now and simply bobbed his head in response. After tugging the first glove back into place, his hands simply fell to his sides. Grunting, the argonian turned, hauling herself up into the saddle. Leaning over, she offered a hand up for the dunmer. With another grunt, she tugged Erandur up to sit behind her. There was a moment of waiting for him to wrap his arms around her waist, then she kicked the gelding into a canter.

They didn’t need to gallop. The dragon was still far off, circling lazily rather than hunting, but Oraythe knew she had not the energy to take on a dragon after their slog through the ruins for the better part of a day and a half, with only a short nap between them.

“We will not be able to make Dawnstar this evening, at least not safely,” Oraythe murmured, somewhat apologetic.

“It is no matter. Right now I wish only to rest somewhere with a roof,” Erandur sighed.

Re: "Salve" Het, F!DB Argonian/Erandur, 2/3

[(Anonymous)]

They traveled in companionable silence, for the most part. Oraythe slowed the horse once they were out of hearing distance of the baying roar of the dragon. A foundering horse would do them no favors in getting them anywhere hastily. Thankfully, there was no rasping of buckles coming undone, for the moment. She could understand Erandur’s dislike of heavy, cumbersome clothing, as her own kind rarely wore much in their natural home environment of swamps and wetlands. But he picked the oddest of places to disrobe. The Dragonborn decided to save her inquiries about it for later. For now the light of Whiterun shown upon the planes, and there would be a warm bed and food there for the both of them.

The gates were a welcome sight, fingers already wrapped around the key hanging from her belt that would open up Breezehome for them. They were still waiting for the guards to finish pulling the gates open, the Argonian’s tail coiling back and forth slowly, when she heard it again. But even before she’d made it the few steps down the path to her home, there was that too familiar scuffing sound followed by a thud, while Erandur tried to tug his old robes out of the pack slung across his shoulders and hip. He’d already managed to unbuckle his belt, leather vest and rough spun tunic pulled up halfway, dark skin of his stomach exposed.

Dawn had filtered over the horizon a good hour ago, which meant that the denizens of Whiterun were already out, preparing for the day. Many of them were passing by the Dragonborn's home. Waving to her and one and other, and her dunmer companion. And they were staring more than a bit. Finally, the lock clicked open, Dragonborn barreling inside and grabbing the priest by one willowy arm, tugging him firmly but carefully inside.

Just in time for him to wriggle out of the leather breeches, which were shrugged off and kicked to one side. He’d tugged the loose, tawny robe on before he’d gotten the pants off, at least. Oraythe gave yet another hissing sigh and tugged her mask free, setting it to rest on the armor stand in one corner before picking up the discarded leather armor and piling it into a storage chest.



“Erandur, that armor cannot possibly be that uncomfortable.”

“It is crude, ill-fitting bandit-made armor, and you know it.” The priest didn’t huff, but there was some frustration in his voice.

“That is not the point. The point is I will not have my friend run through by who-knows-what because all he has is some flimsy robe. If you do not wish to dress in a fashion that is safe, then you are more than free to stay in your home in Dawnstar while I commission others to aid me” It was not meant as a threat, but she knew that it sounded like one.

“But...” Erandur frowned.

“But what?”

“It is so quiet at times. There was a time when I did not care about being alone, given what happened. But after you came it was nice to have someone to speak with. Even if only once in awhile,” he said simply.

“Tha...how did we go from the discussion of armor texture and quality to an admonition of affection?” Oraythe was out of her element. Though the Dragonborn cared for the people who’d come to be known to her as friends, stronger emotions where something she’d made an effort to ignore. It was for the best, given her current station in life. Or so she had thought.

“I have been through much, body and soul both. That includes my skin. Between age and the cold, it is sensitive. It becomes dry easily, and certain textures make me itch, and the pressure of metal and buckles causes it to bruise. Were I younger, it would not make a difference, but I am not young.” He turned away, sitting on one of the chairs centered around the cooking pit.

She had not realized he was in pain, and felt a tinge of guilt, before cocking her head to one side. “How badly?”

“I..." There was some hesitation, before continuing "Here.” He offered his wrist. Oraythe cupped his hand, eyeing his wrist. Skin was marred badly from the edge of the leather cuffs, and slight scabbing over an older indentation. A true growl now, and she glared at the fire, frustration causing her tail to coil and lash back and forth. “Why did you not tell me this sooner, Erandur?”

DB/M!LI Skittish

[(Anonymous)]

I've got a bit of a problem. Normally when I'm around people I'm plenty friendly, open, etc. However, once someone expresses interest in me (physical or romantic) my personality practically flips. I get rude, snarly, overly-sarcastic, defensive, and just generally unpleasant for no discernible reason. Seriously, there's no reason for me to act like this. Happily, I'm working through this and conquering my bitch-reflex :)

So here's my prompt: I'd like to see a DB with this same problem. Normally they're friendly, happy, etc, but then they get rude and snarly. No angsty past or deep issues, it just happens. I'd like if someone tries to flirt with the DB (DB can be male or female, doesn't matter to me) and gets this treatment. As soon as he drops the subject, DB is back to normal. So he decides to try and work through the defenses the DB put up, ending in fluff or sexytimes or what have you.


TL;DR - Prickly!DB is slowly won over by M!LI

Kinks: Voice, blindfolds, humor
Squicks: Watersports, scat, noncon, and for this one dubcon.

[(Anonymous)]

Dragons sound really, really good when they speak the dragon language. We can all agree on this, yes?

So can you imagine what the Dragonborn sounds like when they speak it? Rawr.

Basically, something involving the Dragonborn speaking dragon-language and someone (a follower, an NPC, I don't mind) getting all hot and bothered because of it. Whether or not sexytimes then happen is up to you.

Squicks: bathroom business

This is relevant to my interests

[(Anonymous)]

Yay! Fellow language kinker!
Seconded!

And if no one else fills this I might attempt this myself, since it would be a great injustice to let it go unfilled

Cicero/F!DB - Deal with a Daedra

[(Anonymous)]

I just had a thought- what would happen if Cicero, who is obsessively in love with the Dragonborn, was given the choice to make a deal with a Daedra Prince and make his beloved Listener fall in love with him?

What if a Daedra Prince encountered Cicero and offered him a deal: the Daedra would make the DB love Cicero in exchange for his soul. (My knowledge of Elder Scrolls lore isn't as great as it should be, so I don't know if one can do that with a Daedra Prince).

Cicero's choice is up the anon.

Bonus points if the Daedra Prince tries to manipulate Cicero with an illusion of the DB kissing him and loving him and Cicero briefly considers making this deal.

Re: Cicero/F!DB - Deal with a Daedra

[(Anonymous)]

Clavicus Vile would certainly make a deal with Cicero (and then twist it cuz he's an asshole like that). I can totally see that happening and then Barbas helping him under the radar for the hell of it.

Haematophiliac Dragonborn

[(Anonymous)]

So i've been unable to get this out of my head for days, and now that Fill-a-thon is over, I just have to request this-

A female Dark Brotherhood Dragonborn that really just gets a depraved kick out of murder. Doesn't use magic or poison and probably sticks to swords and daggers- or a warhammer to pulverize, just so long as it's /bloody/. Not in the Brotherhood for the money, pretty much.

Kink would be getting emotionally and physically flustured as the DB goes along with this murder, starting out as calm and pretty much just going wild by the end, 'playing' with the victim a bit before they croak, masturbating as the murder is being carried out once they're weak enough to not fight back, and potentially trying tease them a bit as their dying. Squicks would probably fall under taking the humiliation too far, namely watersports, scat, and puke.

Anybody interested?

Re: Haematophiliac Dragonborn

[(Anonymous)]

Popping my kinkmeme cherry, be nice. :)
Title: Colour of Night
Kinks: bloodplay, knifeplay, masturbation (death?)
Characters: Imperial fem!DB, Deekus
------
"The Void is in need of another soul, don't you think?" Elin smirked behind the cowl shrouding her face.

"What are you talking about? Wait, you mean..." Deekus glanced nervously at the waves lapping on the shore nearby, judging the distance between him and the water.

"The Dark Brotherhood is here for you." Elin whipped out the Blade of Woe with her right hand and rammed the heel of her left palm up into Deekus's chin, knocking his head backwards. A continuation of the Blade's arc as she drew it would have cleanly slit his throat if the Argonian hadn't made a final effort to avoid the embrace of Sithis. He flung himself sideways towards the ocean, receiving a long but fairly shallow cut on the side of his neck instead of a lethal gash across the windpipe and arteries.

Deekus fell to the pebbled ground just short of the water. Elin grabbed the shoulderband of his simple hide armour and with a grunt, heaved him back towards dry ground.

"Good thing this dagger is enchanted to drain the life from people it's used on." Elin knelt, putting one knee on top of Deekus's chest to keep him still. "Even a minor blow can be incapacitating. Don't worry, I'll try to..."

Elin's eyes homed in on the thin, steady trickle of blood running down her contract's neck, bright red. Was it her imagination, or could she smell its metallic odor?

"I'll make this..."

Gods, now was not the time to feel those faint twinges shivering down her spine towards a certain place between her legs. Elin shook her head slightly, trying to focus, but as soon as she stopped moving all she could see was the blood.

Well, why not have a little fun? It wasn't like anyone would know - she was in the middle of nowhere off the northern coast of Skyrim with only a soon-to-be-dead Argonian for company.

She grinned. "I'll make this interesting

"Wha- what are you going to do?" Deekus asked, voice raspier than usual even for an Argonian.

"Did I say you could speak?" Elin snapped, sheathing the Blade of Woe and drawing a smaller, unenchanted dagger from the top of her boot. The steel shone dully in the weak winter sunset. "No, I didn't. So shut up and don't ask stupid questions." She pressed the tip of the dagger into the cut and slowly traced its length, causing more blood to leak out. Now she actually could smell it, a faint coppery scent in the chilly air. The shiver tingled through her again, stronger than before and making its presence very much known beneath her armour. More blood, her mind whispered.

Slowly Elin drew the dagger down Deekus's left arm, a line of crimson following its path. She traced it back upwards with a finger, smearing the slick warm blood before lifting her hand and slowly touching her tongue to the red mess on her hand. Her mouth filled with the taste of metal and salt as she closed her eyes and moaned softly.

Deekus stared in horror, wondering briefly if this woman were a vampire before taking advantage of Elin's distraction to try and squirm out from beneath her.

“Hold still!” she yelled, striking wildly and without proper aim. Deekus flung up his uninjured arm to protect himself, deflecting the blade away from his face but receiving a deep cut near his wrist. Blood flowed from the new gash, steaming a bit where it pooled on the frozen ground.

Blood everywhere, blood blood blood blood blood blood....

Stormcloaks, Bandits, or anyone else/Thalmor non-con

[(Anonymous)]

So, I've been looking around the kink meme and noticed that all the non-con prompts involving Thalmor, they're the perpetrators.

I've been wondering, what if it was the other way around? Say, a Thalmor patrol is attacked by Stormcloaks or bandits (or whomever) and one survives and well, non-con ensues, maybe for revenge because or because they just really, really hates the Thalmor. Or it could happen to Ondolemar if the Stormcloaks take control of Markarth, before he's killed of course.

This anon would also really like to see what's going through the Thalmor's head while they're basically being dominated by a "lesser race" and the aftermath.

And this anon would prefer it if the Thalmor were a male since there doesn't seem to be many m!Altmer around here.

Don't want: beast races or bathroom stuff