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

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If you go long enough without blood as a vampire or without transforming as a werewolf, villagers will just attack you. My headcanon is that the longer DB goes without feeding, or changing, the more desperate they are to do so.

I'd like to see a fill where DB decides not to succumb to their urges, and a follower or friend or lover stays with them to make sure they don't crack. Said follower/friend/lover is definitely in some danger, especially from vampire!DB, but doesn't care.

Doesn't have to be smut. I'd actually prefer fluff on this one.

(I hope this is to your liking OP!)

tags: char:M!PC char:Jenassa race:Imperial kink:hurt/comfort

The hunger burned inside of him.

Corrado licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. There was an itch in the back of his throat, and he couldn't still his trembling fingers, but those were small discomforts. The burning, aching need clawing at his insides dwarfed everything else.

His kind were often seen as depraved creatures, wallowing in their bloody excesses. That perception was true for those who embraced the disease and built their existences around hunting mortals, but the craving for blood wasn't a desire. It wasn't just satiated for pleasure.

The need for blood was just that- a need.

The memories of his life before his infection and enthrallment were distant and muddled, but Corrado remembered days of wandering the sands of Elsewhyr... or was it Hammerfell? Separated from his legion, young and inexperienced, he had just barely clung to life until his comrades found him. He remembered the blazing heat beating down upon him, his tongue swollen, his nose trickling blood, and every thought, every nerve in his body screaming for water, because without it death was mere hours away.

Those hazy memories were the closest thing he could compare to the thirst.

The first two days had been easy enough. He normally fed as sparingly as possible; usually only the bare minimum to allow him to pass as a human (albeit particularly pale for an Imperial), and, if need be, to walk in the sunlight without harm.

Now...

"You're getting that look in your eyes again," Jenassa's cool voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Corrado looked up at her. For a moment he could only see her warmth, the pulse at her throat, the life flowing through her veins. But then he blinked, forced himself to focus, and met her impassive gaze.

She was fiddling with a dagger, carving a piece of mudcrab chitin. Divines help him, she was bored. He laughed. The sound was painful, more of a rasp than anything else.

Jenassa eyed him. "Where did you find your humor?"

"You're the only person in Skyrim who could be bored guarding a starving vampire."

The barest hint of a smile graced her features. "I highly doubt that's true. Most would be just as bored as I am- just a bit more scared."

Corrado's fingernails dug reflexively into the wooden paneling of the bed as a shudder ran through him. His insides twisted painfully. It felt as if something were ripping and clawing, lodged deep in his throat. He coughed reflexively. Her blood would soothe all of this away, would stop all pain. All thirst.

"You're... not afeared... at all?" he bit out, because talking was a distraction at least.

Something close to a smile turned her lips upwards again. "You overestimate yourself. Any reasonable person would only be a touch afraid; a sensible sort of caution, for dealing with anything hungry and sharp-toothed. I know nothing of fear; what reason would I have to flinch now?" Her words were clipped and wintery, but behind them lurked a sort of reassurance.

She would not flee. She would not turn on him.

"If I were a Nord, I'd be offended at that assessment," he said with a grin.

Jenassa cocked a brow at him. "You pay me for my sword, not my flattery."

"I haven't paid you in months." He hadn't quite realized it, until the words left his mouth. Somewhere along the line, she had stopped reminding him.

"Nor have you objected to me taking my share of the spoils," she pointed out.

That was true too. She'd started seeking out loot instead of hanging back in the aftermath of fights and he... hadn't really thought much of it.

"I suppose this makes this more of a partnership."

"I suppose," Jenassa said. "So long as your newfound aversion to blood isn't... professional."

Corrado shuddered again. The first time he had hired her, he'd been too close to starving, the blood hunger too great. He should have waited and found some quiet place to feed before, but he'd been too eager to begin the hunt. Once the bandits he had been tasked to kill were dead, he had fallen upon their corpses and drained them dry.

When he had lifted his head from the last exsanguinated body, splattered with blood and gore, he'd expected Jenassa to be fleeing or preparing to attack. Instead, she had merely been watching him calmly.

Her only response had been a mild appreciation. "To think what masterpieces I could create if I could fight like that."

Please, do continue.

(Note- I' playing fast and loose with vampire canon because it's a bit badly defined, and because of the differences in vampires between Dawnguard and the vanilla game. Also I use a mod called Better Vampires.
The vampirism in this story is cobbled together out of vanilla skyrim/dawnguard lore + better vampires gameplay + conjecture)

His musing were broken by someone pounding on the door.

Panic seized him for a moment, and predatory instincts almost had him seizing his sword and leaping out of bed. Twice, the Vigilants of Stendarr had tracked him to Solitude. Both times they had been dealt with without drawing the attention of the populace, but that was only by luck. The Vigilant's vampire hunters were solitary and arrogant, not the sort to rally cityfolk against the vampires in their midst. Solitary hunters. That was the only reason Corrado had survived their attacks and remained undetected.

Rationality imposed itself upon his mind, forcing out the notion that another Vigilant had tracked him down. The Vigilants of Stendarr did not knock, not if they were outside the dwelling place of monstrosities.

Jenassa climbed to her feet, her hands reaching down to brush over the hilts of her twin swords. "Pretend to sleep," she murmured.

Corrado, seeing the wisdom in her words, lay back down and closed his eyes. For the most part, he was lucky in terms of passing for mortal. His dark hair and Imperial coloring gave his red eyes a brown cast,and the scars on his face deflected attention from the sharpness of his features. But nothing could hide the tell-tale glow of a starving vampire's eyes.

Jenassa had opened the door, and the smell of cooking meet and woodsmoke drifted up from the main room of the Winking Skeever, mingled with the chatter of the tavern's evening crowd. Underlaying this all, the potent aura of life met Corrado's senses; the beat of two dozen hearts, pumping warmth and life through soft mortal bodies. He needed it. He needed it, or he would die just as surely as a legionnaire in the desert.

He tried to push this notion away. Starvation felt the same, but didn't effect vampires the way it did humans. He had never heard of a vampire starving to death, and many stories contained descriptions of the horrors wrought by accidentally releasing ancient, hungry vampires.

The need was still there, however, desperate and demanding. Perhaps it was a vestigial instinct of the human body; suddenly finding food and water unnecessary, the survival instinct was transferred to the only thing that continued to fuel it.
He ground his teeth together, trying to will it to dispel. If he was going to continue and to join the Legion once more, he had to be able to contain the hunger.

Voices drifted over him from the doorway. He tried to focus on the words, to decipher what they meant, but the syllables refused to coalesce into anything meaningful. He recognized the low tone, masculine tone making inquiries of Jenassa, but the face would not come to mind anymore than the words would.

Jenassa said something reluctant, and the door creaked open further as two pairs of footsteps made their way over to the bed. Corrado lay perfectly still, then reminded himself to breathe. He could smell the mortals beside him, and though their shared battles had taken off the edge of his hunger in regards to Jenassa- she was a mortal, but also a predator, his instincts told him- he had never seen the man fight. Some amicable feeling towards him was drifting somewhere along with his memory of the man’s name, but all of that was lost to him right then.

He was warm and mortal and prey.

Corrado was an instant away from leaping from the bed and clamping his jaws around the mortal’s neck, draining him of all that sweet life, all that blood, to finally soothe the ache.

Then the man said his name.

“Corrado.”

It was not his true name; not the name the man who had lived so long ago and born it to fight in the Legion. It was a collection of vaguely Imperial-sounding syllables he had strung together when first he stumbled back into civilization. His first name had been washed away by his enthrallment, along with most of whoever the man who had succumbed to a vampire had been.

Corrado was made of stronger stuff.

He forced the desire back, clamping down on it. Beneath the blankets, his hands were twisted into fists, fingernails digging deep into his skin.

Falk Firebeard, that was the visitor’s name. Jarl Elisif’s steward. Corrado had never seen him outside the Blue Palace before.

The creak of the door closing alerted him to the fact the danger had passed. He opened his eyes again, as Jenassa came back and sat back down. Despite all her proclamations of fearlessness, he noted how her hands shook as she picked up her dagger and the piece of mudcrab chitin again.

“That man,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Doesn’t know how damn close he came to death.” She laughed humorlessly.

Corrado swallowed. “What did he want?”

Jenassa shrugged carelessly, her demeanor of effortlessness settling back upon her. “He was wondering why you had not yet taken up your position at court. Perhaps he was worried you had been overawed by your new title.

Corrado laughed. “As thane? I didn’t realize my presence would be so missed. Falk is good company, but I don’t relish the thought of trading insults with Erikur all day.” His grasp on Nord culture was still weak, but the way Jarl Idgrod had explained it, it seemed Thanes were supposed to do more than sit around. After all, it was great deeds that supposedly earned the title.

“I told him you were ill. He was concerned and insistent,” she grimaced. “There’s some matter with those bards he wants you to speak to him about?” She shook her head. “I was too busy trying to get him to go to hear most of it.”

Corrado nodded, grateful. “I wouldn’t have been able to hold out much longer.”

Jenassa tipped her head to one side and regarded him for a moment. “Why do you find it easier to control yourself around me?”

“You’re…” Corrado searched for the words. Lethal. Predatory. Familiar. My partner. “Dangerous. I’ve fought alongside you long enough to know it on an instinctual level.”

“You’ve fed on me before,” she said, her sharp red eyes holding his gaze intently.

She had been the first to suggest it. It was only logical, she said. And she was professionally curious as well; she had been at the giving and receiving end of every wound and blow conceivable, aside from a vampire’s kiss.

It had been disconcerting how well she had taken it.

“That was voluntary. You would be quite capable of dispatching me, if I went feral,” he said grimly.

Her hand went to one of the twin swords on the bedside table- a silver sword, taken from a Vigilant hunter who had targeted him. It was specifically enchanted to burn the undead. With that and her prowess as a swordwoman, even the vampiric powers starvation lent him weren’t likely to save him.

That was something of a reassurance, too.

"Because Ulfric was manly"

And it was there that I lost it XD.

"You once had sex with Ulfric Stormcloak," Sapphire repeated, putting down her bottle of ale, her look incredulous. Arga, sitting awkwardly opposite her, flushed deeply.

"It was a one-off fling, little Breton," she protested. "I haven't had the man since, this I promise you."

"But...but you support the Empire!" Sapphire stammered. "Why...why did you do it?"

"Because Ulfric was manly."

And it was there that Sapphire lost it.

ROTFL. Great misfire :)

Solstheim. F!Human!PC; not necessarily DB, with Reavers or Thalmor.

Tl;dr prompt: "When she'd made this deal, she hadn't realized just how large their hideout actually was, let alone how many people it could accommodate."

Applies fairly well to most ruins, hideouts, abandoned cabins, and certain Thalmor boats, I'd say.

Longer prompt: Maybe she's looting. Maybe she's just passing through. ~~Maybe it's maybelline~~ Either way, F!PC is alone and easily captured by several members of either Dunmer Reavers or Ancarion's Thalmor expedition. Unfortunately, Reavers don't tend to leave survivors and Thalmor Agents on secret missions don't like loose ends running around. Desperate to live, F!PC agrees for her captors to use her body in exchange for her eventual safe release. Once inside the fort/ruin/cabin/boat by which she was captured, she quickly realizes just how many of them there actually are--at least a dozen(if not more!) as opposed to the 2-3 she thought she was dealing with. And she has to deal with ALL of them. Regardless of the faction the A!A goes with, this particular lot have been sexually deprived for ages and are more than happy to vent this frustration on the reasonably pretty human.

F!PC may start out relatively lacking in sexual experience but is not a virgin. Each one of the males* present who want a piece of her gets it, as much as they want, taking in turns. They cream her holes to the point of overflow and, if there are no vacancies, they're quite happy to finish on her breasts, hands, face, etc. F!PC rarely gets a break, as there's always another cock or three to service. She can be restrained if she's not exactly willing. This goes on for some time and at some point, it sinks in that they aren't really interested in letting their new plaything/sperm-receptacle go.

Several weeks pass. Maybe more.

Once she is free, be it due to an outsider rescue or her managing to kill or sneak her way out, or perhaps let go by a sympathetic captor, she can have whatever thoughts/feelings about the whole ordeal the A!A wants. Up to A!A if a pregnancy results and how it's handled.

+1 Internets for A!A for each of the following:
* The racism of the Dunmer/Altmer features heavily.
* Not all of the males riding F!PC's tail are completely mean-spirited about it. Let's assume they'd want to occasionally get her off to further drive the point home that they are 'naturally superior' at these things. Oh, and orgasming female bodies make cocks feel pretty good.
* One or two may even treat F!PC somewhat nicely. As in, table scraps along with her daily intake of semen, and baths.
* For the extra accommodating, I'd like a cute little F!Breton!PC, because size kink. A little meat on her hips and thighs would be nice for her captors to sink into, though. Early to late-20's preferred. Starts off being reasonably well-dressed, groomed and styled, quickly devolves into a hot mess.
* Ancarion to get some one-on-one action with F!PC (with a Thalmor fill)
* Appearances by Neloth, Teldryn Sero, Captain Veleth, and Ralis Sedarys in any context are worth an extra Internet each, because unf.
* ...If the above four all join together to make the world's best crackpot rescue team, I will give you my firstborn. Or send you high-quality pictures of my incredibly fluffy Ragdoll cat showing off her tummy. Yeah, let's go with that.

Kinks/tags: Consensual sex, Dub-con, non-con, rough sex, Altmer, Thalmor, Dunmer, Reavers, F!Human!PC, racism/supremacy, threesome, gang-bang, light bondage, het, bi, double-penetration, oral, anal, facial, cum-play, foreplay, masturbation, size-kink, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, multiple orgasm

Squicks: mutilation, genital/nipple piercings, gore, scat, watersports, virgin

*=As A!A, feel free to include other females dominating the F!PC if you so choose, but only if it can be done in a way that doesn't /totally/ defy realistic expectation; in the situation I've listed above, any other females even within the factions would be much more likely to face the same treatment as our poor F!PC here, and not really being in the position to dominate, hence my not really including that in the description.

Multi-fills are loved, unless anyone feels up to including both factions in one fill :D

Personally, I loved it. I loved their banter, and I loved the dialog (I love good dialog because I am terrible at it lol) and it was incredibly sweet.

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