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BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
>Please post your prompts with the paired characters and any notable kinks/trigger warnings in the title.
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>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
>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.
F!DB/LI -To Calm a Dragon
Date: 2012-10-29 09:37 am (UTC)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
Date: 2012-10-29 05:04 pm (UTC)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)?
Re: F!DB/LI -To Calm a Dragon
Date: 2012-10-29 06:34 pm (UTC)Hopefully the case studies will go smoothly for you, cause I know I'll be waiting eagerly to see what you have planned. <3
Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [1.1/?]
Date: 2012-11-08 06:23 am (UTC)Title: Peace
Pairing: Brynjolf/F!Breton!DB
Summary: This is what comes from secrets, he figures, and especially those of the Dovahkiin. Not that he’d known they were one in the same.
Tags: es:skyrim, race:Nord, race:Breton, relationship:het, char:brynjolf, char:F!DB, kink:size, kink:age difference
A sigh of contentment lifts Brynjolf’s chest up, flattening it with his breath’s leaving. This is the most relaxed he’s felt in a long while, sitting back and just watching people come and go on jobs for the Guild. He watches as people return with smug satisfaction, and in turn, he feels it too. The Guild is back on its feet, jobs are being successfully completed, and Brynjolf hasn’t seen this much wealth flowing through the Guild since he joined. That was ages ago, under Gallus’ reign.
It was days like this that he really felt…well…old. Getting old, at the least. He knew it was just because he was at rest, thinking – a very dangerous thing – but he couldn’t exactly avoid the thought that his life was slowly whittling down to a fine point. A flutter of restlessness settles into his heart where satisfaction ought to be. He shuffles in place as if to find a more comfortable position to settle into.
Never in his life has Brynjolf ever considered settling down, starting a family or even remotely leaving his lot with the Guild. Until recently.
This whole business with Nocturnal, after so many near-death experiences all packed into one Dwarven ruin, served as the driving force behind his daydreams and those he’d have at night, whether good or bad, it didn’t matter. All Brynjolf knew was that he was getting older, and soon enough the thought came that it was time to make a decision about his life. One way or another he was going to serve a Daedric prince in the afterlife. Would he rather live a long and quiet life before that, or throw the rest of his days into the less-than-safe life he knew and loved? The Guild was his home. It was all he knew, and all he’d ever need to. Or so he thought.
Sometimes he caught himself daydreaming of the life he could have had. His mistakes were either lamentations or fond memories of his youth, when fumbling out of his clothes and into a woman’s bed was a milestone marking manhood. Was he really that old, or was he just a fool after a near-death experience, trying to make amends for a life of crime?
Well.
He didn’t really regret his thieving, per se. Maybe he regretted the few bad roads it led him down, but those days were long over. Leave the stones where they lay and all that.
Brynjolf has never once been a romantic. Pragmatic from the day he was born and tossed into the streets of Riften, he knows not to wont for things out of reach. A life of love is not for his ilk – too messy, too risky, too many strings attached. Yet here he is, thinking of all the scenarios, the could-have, should-have, would-haves, the could-have-beens and never-will-bes, with his feet in the Cistern, cool water keeping him as grounded as possible through his reveries.
Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [1.2/?]
Date: 2012-11-08 06:29 am (UTC)In these daydreams, he imagines a quiet little family in a quiet home, usually nothing extravagant – just enough for them to be happy – sitting down by the fire and telling stories to his daughter, whoever she might be. He is always laughing, animatedly talking of his youth, hands gesticulating wildly as he mimics some sort of wild animal. His daughter cannot stop giggling. By his side, his wife lays her hand on his shoulder, eyes as warm as the fond smile she tilts in his direction. He can just tell that they’re married. Not by the rings, no, but the understanding and compassion of the woman with him. Once it was a comely lady from his youth who bore the role of his wife, but lately that part has been monopolized by someone he still knows.
The Guild Master strode into the Cistern, stopping at her bed to deposit some items into the chest on its right. She made short conversation with Sapphire before moving on to Thrynn, apparently relating a story of some sort to him.
That someone he still has connections to is in his thoughts wouldn’t necessarily bother him on any odd day. It was the matter that she was all he seemed capable of thinking about lately. Most definitely out of the usual and far out of Brynjolf’s comfort zone. The lass was his boss, his partner in crime – even sworn to the same Daedric prince. He was there when she first strode in to Riften, donning the robes of a mage yet slinking through the crowds with a humble demeanor. Brynjolf would admit, he hadn’t thought her anything special upon first sighting, just a tiny Breton new to the world around her, but lately he’d begun to notice her in ways he hadn’t before. What once he thought of as nothing more than his fellow Guildmate he now thought of as a companion during some sort of half-brained retirement? Brynjolf was convinced he was going mad.
The Guild Master was, like most Bretons, a very small girl with proportionately small features. Her complexion was on the warm side of pale, clear evidence that she did not live a life of toil before her venture into Skyrim; meanwhile her eyes, of a round shape, were a soft brown that stood in stark contrast to her strawberry blonde hair, now neatly hidden beneath her hood. Brynjolf knew the locks to be short and unkempt. It was, as he’d come to think, rather endearing when her hair stood up at all ends (which it usually did). When Brynjolf had first seen her, he’d thought she was a particularly short man from behind.
He’s watching her as she turns her head, their eyes meeting before he can stop it. His heart seizes for just a moment as she pulls back her hood and smiles in his direction. This, he reminds himself, this is the time to stop. There’s no reason for it, but he knows that she can’t know. They know each other far too well for Brynjolf to keep secrets from her. Normally it isn’t hard to avoid her, what with the time she spends away from the Guild – weeks, over a month, once; not that Brynjolf has been keeping track of her comings and goings – but now it seems most of her time is spent with the Guild.
“Brynjolf!” She calls across the Cistern, grinning, one arm raised above her head in greeting.
He moves his feet from the water, shoving them into his boots while he tries to stand. As he does so, her expression falls into one of confusion. Brynjolf feels badly, really, but it’s for the best. Probably.
“Brynjolf, wait up!” The Guild Master chases after him as he heads for the door to the Ragged Flagon, her second-in-command fleeing guiltily from her presence. He’s a bit too slow though, he realizes, when he feels her fingers clasp around his pauldron, swinging him around to face her. Her brows are drawn down in confusion, but her lips quirked up at the edges, as if amused. “Got a minute? I thought we might talk.”
He sucks in a breath, bracing for her disappointment. “Sorry, lass. I’ve got important things to do,” Brynjolf begins, pausing to sigh. He’s gone with this easy lie before, and he knows it’s going to get smashed to pieces soon, if not now. “We’ll speak another time.”
Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [1.3/?]
Date: 2012-11-08 06:33 am (UTC)“Look. I don’t exactly have the patience to deal with your jokes right now,” he tells her bluntly.
“Come on, Bryn! You told me you were busy last time we spoke. That was nearly two weeks ago! Since when have you been too busy to talk to a friend?” She narrows her eyes as he shakes his head at her. “If not as a friend, then business. Guild Master to her second-in-command?”
He snorts, snapping back at her before he can stop himself, “Now you’re concerned with business?”
She frowns, demeanor changing. It’s very odd – meek but enough to let him know she’s trying to be firm with him. “I’ve been doing jobs for the Guild, Brynjolf. Please don’t imply otherwise.”
“Between what? Exploring every nook and cranny in Skyrim?”
“My business is my own,” she says quietly, drawing into herself. This is her being defensive, he realizes, remembering how quietly she’d stood at Karliah’s side when they came to him with Gallus’s journal. But then again, there’s something different from that moment, when he looks at the way she stands. Her stance is more forthright, confident, as opposed to the way she had held herself meekly behind the Dunmer woman.
“And my business is mine, Pax.” With that he turns, intent on drinking away this conversation. Yet again, he feels himself being tugged backward – but this time, the action is rough, wrapped up in emotion. He’s expecting the Guild Master to look upset, perhaps hurt, by his rebuke. Certainly not angry; in all the time he’d known her, not once had he ever seen her angry. Hell, not even with Mercer! But the emotion he met was unmistakably fury as he levels his gaze at her.
“Do not walk away from me like that, Brynjolf! You give me the respect deserving of your Guild Master!”
Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [1.4/?]
Date: 2012-11-08 06:36 am (UTC)There’s fire in her eyes and on her tongue. Pax snarls as she all but roars back at Brynjolf, “Don’t forget who got the Guild back on its feet! Without me, you wouldn’t even have a Guild to call home anymore! Can I not speak to you? Am I not important enough to you to afford just a fraction of your apparently precious, precious time?”
“I never said that—”
“You might as well have!”
Brynjolf glances over her, his instincts telling him that they’ve drawn a crowd. And like usual, his instincts are right. “Lass, you’d better quiet down—”
“No!” She hisses. He looks at her then, really looks at her. Something isn’t right. His Pax, the Pax he knows, wouldn’t ever shout at him like this. “You do not speak to me like that, mortal! You will not silence a dovah!”
“Dovah?” His brows wrinkle together. “What in Shor’s name is that supposed to mean?”
It’s as if he’s just struck Pax from whatever possessed her to act so out of character. The flame burning in her eyes is gone, replaced by wide confusion melting into fear. “I—oh.” She blanches when she looks over her shoulder at the crowd. They scatter almost as soon as she does so, back to the mundane tasks they go about daily. Out of fear or embarrassment Brynjolf isn’t sure. She looks down at her feet, at the walls of the narrow corridor, anything to avoid his gaze.
“Lass? Are you alright?” He reaches an arm out to touch her shoulder, but is startled when Pax backs up, staring back at him. There’s wild, unguarded fear written all over her face, in the way her eyes are wide like an elk before the saber cat bites it round the neck.
“I don’t know.” He thinks he hears her murmur, head shaking back and forth. She darts away into the Cistern. And for whatever reason, Brynjolf doesn’t follow her.
Re: Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [1.4/?]
Date: 2012-11-08 01:53 pm (UTC)And I love they interplay between the DB name and the title. Very clever.
Re: Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [1.4/?]
Date: 2012-11-08 10:46 pm (UTC)And no worries, I totally know how bad finals time gets, cause I've got mine coming up sooner than I'd like.
Re: Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [1.4/?]
Date: 2012-11-23 05:55 am (UTC)Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [2.1/?]
Date: 2012-11-17 08:21 am (UTC)He hears a chest snap shut behind the divider, a note of haste to the way it rang in his ears.
“Lass?” Deciding the risk was worth it (and not only because he wouldn’t mind to see his lass naked, either. Not at all), Brynjolf side-steps the divider. The charming smile he’s been working up is crumpled in an instant. “Pax?”
“Now’s not the time, Brynjolf,” his Guild Master says, voice soft but reprimanding all the same. She snaps her head up, eyes shut, stamps her foot, takes in a sharp breath through the nose – what she does every time she messes up. “Oh, damn it!” Returning to her work at a snail’s pace, Pax packs a bag filled with basic necessities for what he estimates could last a week. “I wasn’t supposed to talk to you,” she mumbles, but this was something he assumes he wasn’t meant to hear.
“What are you doing, lass?” Brynjolf hasn’t been one to show his emotions up front, would much rather play the card of charm (because charm was easily fabricated and just as easily bought), but even his silver tongue couldn’t catch the hurtful, accusatory tone it suggested.
Pax’s eyes are shut again, fingers knotting around the buckle of her satchel. “I’m leaving,” she tells him, but continues to mutter as she sets back to work again, “have to go see someone. Won’t be too long.”
Brynjolf shook his head. “Lass, who? Who are you going to see? You keep leaving and coming back, and every time you do, you look halfway to Shor’s halls!”
He doesn’t know why she laughs, but she does. The soft, bitter sort of chuckle born from secrets under lock and key. “It doesn’t matter. My business is my own, Brynjolf.” She turns to look at him as she shoulders her supplies. There was none of the fire, the sheer heat, from the night before – just a tranquil, soothing brown that Brynjolf has become so fond of (used to, he automatically tries to correct it). “And, um – I’m sorry. Really.” He tries to catch her wrist as she passes, but the woman is craftier than her character lets on.
“Pax!” No matter how often he tries to shout her name as he chases her to the Cistern’s hidden entrance, she wouldn’t respond – wouldn’t even look back at him, probably wondering why he even bothered to chase her for so long.
Defeated, he retreats to the Flagon, drink on his mind.
Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [2.2/?]
Date: 2012-11-17 08:22 am (UTC)“You gotta problem with that mead o’ yours, Bryn?” Delvin says as he takes the seat on Brynjolf’s right.
“It’s not the mead I have a problem with,” he responds, not even bothering to hide the bitterness and resentment.
“Ah, so it’s about our boss, then, eh?” His smirk is sly and only somewhat vindictive as he says it.
Brynjolf just takes a sip of his mead.
Delvin waves Vekel over for a drink, telling the glum Nord, “Come on then, get it all off your chest. You’re bad company when you get pissy about somethin’.”
“Why in Oblivion would she apologize, and then just leave like that, just – just ignore me on her way out?” He took a long swig of his mead, downing the contents swiftly. “She’s been acting real odd recently, too. Leaving for long stretches of time, coming back looking like she’s been fighting hordes of Daedra.”
“From what I understand, that can’t be too far off,” Delvin supplies.
Brynjolf ignores him. He’d rather not think about Pax running around Skyrim slaying Dremora. “And then, when we argued yesterday, I’ve never seen her angry since I met her, Delvin, but she was pissed. She told me to respect her, like I was beneath her or something. Then, out of nowhere, she called herself a dovah. I don’t know what she means by that. Does she even know what dovah means?”
Delvin takes a sip from his tankard, apparently thinking. “She must. She wouldn’t’a used it if she hadn’t.”
“Something’s going on with her, I’m telling you, Delvin,” he says it quietly, a harsh, conspiratorial whisper. “She’s keeping something from us.”
“‘aven’t you looked around yourself, Bryn? We’re the Thieves Guild. It’s commonplace for our lot to keep secrets. Sapphire still insists on keeping us in the dark about her real name.”
“This is different.” Brynjolf swings his head to his right, finally looking at Delvin. “And I intend to get to the bottom of it.”
Delvin sighs. He knows better than to discourage a Nord on a mission, but Brynjolf imagines he’s not exactly comfortable plotting against the Guild Master’s wishes.
“Maybe her chest’ll have some answers….” Standing, Brynjolf abandons his drink in order to make his way over to the Cistern, Delvin on his heels.
Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [2.3/?]
Date: 2012-11-17 08:23 am (UTC)The thought briefly crosses his mind as he pushes the door to the Cistern open and walks the short distance to their Guild Master’s bed that it might be a tad inappropriate for him to be going through his leader’s things, but it is quickly scrapped in favor of searching his pockets for the hidden seam he keeps his lockpicks in. Brynjolf kneels down and makes quick work of the chest set next to Pax’s bed.
“Bryn, think about this. What would she be keeping from us? It can’t be anythin’ too important.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he says, throwing the lid open. He and Delvin lean over the rim, peering at the contents. There’s a moment of silence where they just look, before Delvin whistles and Brynjolf lets his hands rummage through.
Dragon scales and bones, first off. They’re weighty, but he’s careful to set them down gently. Plenty of books, the majority of which are fairly rare – including some book titled Annals of the Dragonguard – and a stock of potions that could last the whole of the Guild several months. Scattered around are septims and various gemstones, stolen jewelry and ingots. His eyes catch on a particularly well-kept book under a pile of scales and gold and, acting on instinct, he fishes it out. The book is large and weighty, with a leather-bound cover that belongs to most journals. When he flips it open, he finds that the book is, in fact, written in Pax’s handwriting. “Her journal,” he thinks aloud, leafing through what must be hundreds, maybe even thousands, of pages. “What’s this? ‘Arngeir knew the name of the Shout, "Dragonrend", but could not teach it to me. However, he has agreed to show me the way to reach Paarthurnax, the Greybeards' leader, who lives at the top of the Throat of the World. Arngeir says that Paarthurnax is the only one who may know this Dragonrend Shout.’ Delvin, you don’t think she’s…?”
“She can’t be,” Delvin responds, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “From what I’ve heard, the Dragonborn’s some girl by the name Dominique. Maybe she’s an admirer? A fellow student with the Greybeards?”
Brynjolf snaps the journal shut, tossing it carelessly back into the chest and slamming the lid down. “I doubt that.” He stands. “How long ago did the lass leave?”
“Can’t have been more than an ‘alf hour.” Brynjolf feels Delvin’s leer of suspicion on his back as he walks over to the ladder leading up to the graveyard. He hears the old Imperial call after him, “Ay! Where’re you goin’?”
Whether Delvin hears him or not as he goes hardly matters. “The Throat of the World!”
Re: Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [2.3/?]
Date: 2012-11-17 12:07 pm (UTC)I love what you put up, because I can definitely see Brynjolf and Delvin reacting the way they did (And for that matter, I think my chest in the cistern is pretty identical to what Pax stored in there). Can't wait to see what happens next!
Re: Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [2.3/?]
Date: 2012-11-18 09:11 pm (UTC)Re: Brynjolf/F!DB, "Peace" [2.3/?]
Date: 2012-11-30 03:23 pm (UTC)