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Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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OP spots off in the distance a wild potential Anon, and slowly reaches into the picnic basket, biting lower lip. The last thing OP wants is to scare away this beautiful, majestic creature with its antlers of stories - each tip a different Fill. OP can't tell from this far, but it appears the potential Anon is sporting a nicely sized wrack of Fills.

OP shuffles around the bottom of the basket, freezing in place when the Anon looks up from its grazing, and relaxing once the Anon looks away. OP finds it and pulls it out - a little container of inspiration and magic. OP quietly unscrews the lid, takes a decent handful, and throws the glittering magic out over the grass, just beyond the edges of the blanket. OP throws out a few more handfuls before putting the container aside. All that's left to do is to wait and see if the wild Anon catches the drift of the precious mental nourishment and comes over to investigate. OP is confident the Anon will come and feast on the inspiration, and, with a little hope, perhaps magic will happen before OP's very eyes.

Haha! I love this!

In the nicest way possible, OP, here on the Kink Meme, we do not kink shame.

Be nice.

OP here. Ahh, that's great actually. By all means go ahead and use that! c:

I need some non-con lovin'. I don't care who it is, where they are, or what time of day it is - someone needs to be non-conned senselessly. This Anon is hetero, so would like to see some typical hetero non-con, but this Anon also appreciates non-con in all forms and will graciously accept any sex on any sex. Oh, and any race goes. It's all incredibly hot, either way.

Go wild, as they say. Use your 'magination. It could be about the more popular characters (Bryn, Vilkas, Aela - whatever floats your boat), or not-so-popular ones, like Ancano (personal fav), or an Orc - any Orc for that matter, or how about obscure characters, like M'aiq, a regular barmaid or innkeeper, a jarl's wizard, or even a mine worker. I don't care who it is, just as long as it's non-con.

If the character whom is non-conned ends up liking what's happening to him/her/it in the end, that is fine, as long as they originally didn't want to participate and don't like it at all at least through half of it. It doesn't have to be rough or violent, either - the A!A can write it on a quieter note (the victim could be sleeping, or perhaps drunk/drugged and half out of it, or even just make it kinda Asian-ish - you know, where the girl clearly doesn't want to participate through any of it, but she never once screams for help or gets very loud at all. That shit's insanely hot).

Please, Author!Anonys, I'll take anything. I'm not that picky. Again, as long as it's non-con, I'm game.

Squicks - anything goes. I mean it, anything. As long as it's non-con. Okay, wait. One thing. Humor. This Anon would like for it to be very deep, and very serious.

Bonuses - non-conned victim doesn't like any of what's happening through the entire ordeal or develops a sort of Stockholm Syndrome from it all. Either or both work. Bonus characters - Ancano (it'd be so easy to do...), Vilkas (if you want it to make sense for his character to do that, just have him be a creeper - stalking the victim because he's slowly falling for her/him and is so full of lovelust he can't help himself), and Marcurio (that snarky attitude - love it).

Thank you kindly future A!A(s)!

Asian-ish?

Breathe Nonny, breathe. I'm sure the OP didn't mean that to come out as so supremely offensive as it did.

A/N: This chapter goes a bit angsty, and refers to my Ulfric/Rikke PTSD/breakup fic It's Still Ulfric which can be found here:
http://skyrimkinkmeme { dot } livejournal { dot } com/4295.html?thread=6123719#t6123719
I'd advise reading that to understand this chapter better, but it's not necessary.

*-*-*

It was late. Ysarald and Jorlief had gone to their respective beds, and Galmar was debating internally whether to go to Hjerim or to his old rooms here in the Palace of Kings.

Ulfric was sprawled at the table, steadily making his way through several bottles of mead and (still) complaining to his Housecarl that he did not need anyone, let alone the Dragonborn, to find him a lover. Galmar, of course, was matching Ulfric drink-for-drink, and soundly ignoring every other word out of the High King's mouth. He finally decided he was too drunk to bother with the cold walk to Rozenn's Windhelm property, and so was settling in to what promised to be an epic drinking session, when a thought struck him, so forcefully that he put down his bottle, turned and stood.

Ulfric raised his brows. "Galmar?"

"Rikke," Galmar said, as though it was the answer to the question. "Rikke, Ulfric. If I mentioned to Rozenn about your history with Rikke, she'd have the Legate here in a heartbeat, Amulet of Mara and all."

Ulfric leaned back in his chair, and regarded his friend seriously, thinking for a long moment. "Galmar," he said, "no."

"Why not?" Galmar asked, sitting again, and leaning towards Ulfric with animation. She was good for you. She was good at looking after you. Not as good as me, but she didn't have all the practice I had. She was beddable then, and still is now. Why not, Ulfric? The fire was not out when we met her at High Hrothgar for the talks."

Ulfric sighed, and closed his eyes as though in pain. "You're a good friend, Galmar. The best. But sometimes you can be truly dense."

"You are the only man on Mundus who can say that and not expect a black eye," Galmar commented. "What's wrong with the idea? She's experienced. You know each other, you won't mind getting heirs on her, you know she can handle herself in a fight, you know she can if needed be a leader of men... In short, Ulfric, she's everything that Elisif is not."

"She is a Legate in the Imperial Legion, Galmar," Ulfric said slowly, as if to a particularly dim child. "And I am the reason behind Skyrim's secession from the Empire. Just on principle, she'd kill me as soon as kiss me, Galmar. You must realise that. Besides, which, it would be bad for Skyrim."

"And your marriage must be good for Skyrim, must it," Galmar asked cynically. "What about good for you? Surely a marriage that makes you happy is going to be best for Skyrim."

"You do not understand, Galmar. My marriage must strengthen my position as High King against any number of potential political enemies who will be testing my Kingship; against the remnants of the Empire's forces - at least, those who do not wish to join us; and against the Thalmor.
"I must have a wife who will help me stand against all of those, and who will take the place of Jarl when I must needs be away from Windhelm for any length of time. And someone who understands and respects Skyrim's past and wishes to bring about a strong, independent future.
"I cannot marry for love, Galmar. You may as well tell Rozenn not to bother."

"You and your damned speeches," Galmar grunted. "It's too hard to argue with you when you won't let me get a word in. I'll tell my wife. But I guarantee you she will not heed me."

"Just - promise me you will not tell her about Rikke?" Ulfric asked, a rare note of pleading entering his voice.

Galmar nodded. "As you wish, friend. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Galmar. And thank you."

"What are we even doing here?" Galmar heard an unfamiliar female voice echoing through the throne room.

"I didn't hear you, Njada," came Rozenn's reply.

"Sorry, what are we doing here, Harbinger?"

"Harbinger Stone-Fist. We are here, Njada, because we have to collect our bounties from the Hold of Eastmarch. And you will keep a civil tongue in your head while we do so."

Galmar peered out of the War Room, where he and Ysarald had been discussing plans for dealing with the removal of the Haafingar Imperial Legion camp. Rozenn, clad in studded armour and leather boots and bracers, a quiver of steel arrows slung over one shoulder, and another female clad in matched hide armour and accessories approached the throne.

Galmar abandoned Ysarald to his tactics, and approached the women. Rozenn lit up when she saw him, and jumped into his arms for a kiss that put other kisses to shame, while Jorlief tried not to stare and sorted through the bounty letters Rozenn had shoved into his hand.

Njada Stonearm made a disgusted noise at the sight of the runty little Breton Harbinger (who she only obeyed out of duty to Aela, Skjor and the Twins) assaulted the fine Nord specimen in Stormcloak Bear armour. She rolled her eyes and started wandering around the Throne room. There was another big bear of a man standing near the Throne, clad in heavy furs and dark attire. Not a Jarl, then, as all the Jarls of Skyrim wore bright, expensive noble's robes.

"Only the courageous or foolish approach the Throne without leave," the man turned and spoke with a deep, delicious voice that made her tingle.

"Well, nobody has ever called me a fool," she purred throatily. He must be Housecarl to Jarl Ulfric, she thought. "And nobody has ever managed to intimidate me, either."

"Is that so?" the tall, shaggy Nord asked, arching a brow. He behaved exactly like Balgruuf's Housecarl - it must be a job requirement to be toplofty and growly.

Behind her she heard the Harbinger call her name. And a second time.

"Njada Stonearm, if I have to I will freeze you solid and shove you out on your arse!" Rozenn bellowed. "You will step away and show proper deference to your High King! Ulfric, my Jarl, I am so sorry!"

"You're Ulfric Stormcloak?" Njada asked incredulously.

Ulfric, for it was indeed he, inclined his head regally.

"But... You act like a - you dress like a- a- Housecarl- mmmf!"

Njada was prevented from finishing her thought when Rozenn clapped a hand over her mouth, and forcefully dragged her away from the Throne.

"Ulfric, I am so, so, sorry. I just - all I wanted was five minutes with my husband. Jorlief, give my bounty money to Galmar, will you? I'll get it another day. This one needs a lesson in manners," Rozenn ground out from between clenched teeth, walking backwards, with a hand on Njada's mouth, keeping her bent painfully backwards as she did so.

They reached the great doors, and Rozenn released the younger Nord, spinning her around and wagging a finger in her face. "You, young lady need discipline. You must learn to keep your peace, and speak politely or not at all. As punishment for this disrespectful attitude, I am taking your half of the bounties we gathered and donating it to Honorhall Orphanage. Is that clear, young lady?"

The two warrior women left the Palace. Galmar stepped over to where Ulfric stood, staring after the pair.

"Will you recover from being mistaken for a Housecarl?" Galmar teased.

"I'll live. That young woman. She had a fire in her," Ulfric said slowly.

"She had an attitude, is what she had," Galmar snorted. "I've heard stories about that one, Ulfric. Too wild to be High Queen, trust me."

"Maybe so. But she was refreshingly different."

"I'll tell Rozenn that one was almost a success."

"You mean she brought that girl here on purpose? Knowing about her... attitude?" Ulfric asked, surprised.

"Unlikely. She'll make a great mother someday, though, don't you think?" Galmar asked.

"Njada?" Ulfric asked incredulously.

"No, idiot, my wife. I was talking about Rozenn," Galmar rolled his eyes.

"She'll be a great disciplinarian," Ulfric commented innocently.

"She already is," Galmar grinned wickedly.

*-*-*

I can see where you'r coming from but I'rd rather the Dunmer charecter be male.

“Nooo,” a sob “leave the guard alone! He’s my favorite!”

“HOW CAN YOU TELL!?

I love this a lot.

Gah, sorry. Don't mean to offend. By that, I mean what you see in that type of Asian porn. That is what my sleep deprived brain meant to type.

I vote YES!

And again, incredibly sorry here. Was completely trying to say Asian-ish porn. Usually when I fuck something up I've typed, it's from typing "the" twice, or for some reason confusing "p"s with "b"s. I've been known to type too fast for my fingers and put a period at the middle of the sentence, and, thinking I'm finished with it, move to the next. I'm no stranger to spelling and grammar mistakes. I've also been notorious for run-ons. But forgetting a very crucial word in a sentence, especially something like that? Well...that's a complete first, and I will understand if you will still think this one to be an asshole - after that mistake, I definitely deserve it. No worries, I'm not looking for forgiveness. I just want you to know that it was a very messed up mistake, and for that mistake, I am deeply and truly sorry.

A "waste not want not" self-prompt, as I started to write a fill and (after a search through parts 4 and 5) it appears that I totally imagined the prompt!

Prompt: M!NPC has known elf!NPC/OC for a while now and they're pretty close, there's some chemistry there, but one day something happens to draw attention to the fact that they're an elf. WITH POINTY EARS.
Cue him wondering about said ears and the biological differences, and jumping their elven bones to find out for himself.

Anyone feel like writing a short story in the style of Elder Scrolls Lore?

There are three books in the game called 16 Accords of Madness, which describe Sheogorath's adventures with other Daedric Princes. Volume VI deals with Hircine, Volume IX with Vaermina, and Volume XII with Malacath.

But that still leaves another 13 stories which are unwritten in the game! What did Sheogorath do with Azura, or Sanguine? What about Molag Bal? Pick your favourite Daedric Prince and tell us what Sheogorath did to drive them insane!

Apparently I have no brain, because I managed to leave this on Post 4 instead of the newer Post 5... Please delete the copy of this over there!

There's a scene which plays between Balgruuf and Irileth in Dragonsreach, which goes as follows:

Irileth: "Balgruuf, did you slip out again last night for a drink at the Bannered Mare?"

Balgruuf: "Heard about that, did you? Yes, I went out for a pint or two. What of it?"

Irileth: "These secret visits to the tavern will make you an easy target for an enemy assassin. You should have told me first."

Balgruuf: "Damn it, woman, I'm the Jarl of Whiterun! I won't apologize for talking to my people. You can't protect me every moment of the day."

Clearly, this demands a story. Why is Jarl Balgruff sneaking off to the Bannered Mare behind his housecarl's back? Is it really just for "a pint or two", or does he have an ulterior motive? Do the other customers recognise him? Is this a regular thing? What would happen if he was caught (e.g. by "an enemy assassin")?

Gen, crack, and romance are all okay, though I would prefer a happy ending. My only real squicks are non-con and character death.

Please delete the copy of this on Post 4. Thanks!

Hehehe, this is adorable!

He wasn't really sure when it all changed with her, with Eradael. It was as though one moment he was going through his daily routine, pawning potions in the Riften market, and the next he was living and breathing this little Bosmeri thief, his new Guildmaster.

She'd been a sight for sore eyes that afternoon when they first met. He had watched as she blended into the crowd, becoming a shadow; a shadow with agile hands, which had deftly removed a guard of his valuables. A GUARD. She was fearless, clearly so confident in her abilities. The Guild had to have her.

He'd kept track of her as she helped with his scheme in the marketplace, as she used her feminine wiles and silver tongue to distract the very same guard she'd stolen from, and proved his intuition right. She was a natural. He'd been proud to introduce her to the Flagon, sharing celebratory mead and a saucy wink. "The name's Brynjolf, lass, but you can call me Bryn."

Eradael had progressed through the Guild rapidly, gliding from simple burglary to Devlin's more... delicate jobs and back again, all with perfect execution. No job was too small or too difficult. It was a passion for thievery that reminded him of his own, way back when he was a mere footpad. She was a private woman, but he'd gathered that back in Valenwood she had led some sort of guild. Starting over in Skyrim must have been tough, despite her undeniable talents.

And now... and now he'd been staring at her for far too long, but couldn't bring himself to stop. She often wore her shoulder length hair loose, typically under her hood, but today she had pinned it back. Logically he knew she was an elf, had known the first instant he saw her, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from those ears. Had they always been so... long? So delicate?

She was talking animatedly to Delvin about her latest 'business' idea, her hands a flurry of expressive gestures. Brynjolf knew he should be listening but, professionalism be damned, the tips of her ears wobbled as she moved. Did she realise they did that? It was awfully distracting.

"What do you think, Bryn?" He startled at her voice, eyes darting between two amused faces. It was obvious that Delvin had seen him staring, and he hoped she hadn't.

With a cough to clear his throat he leaned back in his chair, trying to look nonchalant. "I think it sounds like you two have this under control, lass." 'Smooth, Brynjolf.'

She flashed a smile, teeth startlingly white against her dark tan skin. "Ha! You're just trying to avoid committing to real work." From anyone else that would have been an insult, but her expression was one of good humor.

"Ach, lass, you wound me! Surely you know me better than that by now."

Her only answer was an enigmatic smile, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer before returning to Delvin. Brynjolf tried to concentrate on Delvin, he really did, but he was watching him partially over her shoulder. A shoulder that was awfully close to her ear. His gaze drew back to it and he found himself wondering, for although he had wooed many women in his time, there was not an elf among them. Were her ears sensitive, like a human woman? More so? From where he was seated he could reach over to run a fingertip along the edge - it was a very real temptation, one he would need to consider later. In privacy.

Driveby anon says, thank you for calling this out, and in the context it was a very very calm callout.

This anon is quite sure you are breathing.

AH! I love this!

I love that scene! I might try my hands at this!

I can just imagine this scene lol Poor Rozenn, she tries so hard! It makes me wonder if she'll ever find someone. Is there someone that's perfect for Ulfric? it seems there's a 'problem' with every available woman she finds. OP almost wants to step in to end poor Rozenn's misery ;)

ohhh this I'd much! please let it be the wolf vilkas! :) eheheheh

Oh a highly interesting prompt!
I just realised that there is hardly any prompts that focus on Athis, which does quite disappoint me a bit because he's one of the most interesting NPCs to write about. Although I can understand why alot of people aren't so fond of him with his bratty, over-confidant, egotistic personality.
I would seriously adore writing this little number if only I am not such a perfectionist & have the time to write! :(
Maybe once I have the time & reassurance that my writing is good enough, I'll post it on here once it's done; no promises that it's going to happen anytime soon OP but I will TRY!!!!

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