skyrimkinkmeme | Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

Skip to Main Content

Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Twenty-something toasts later, it seemed, and they were running through the woods, trying not to lose each other. It was dark, darker still outside the roads, and their running was not so much a running as a very fast stumbling, stolen Stormcloak banner flapping proudly in the air as their sign of idiotic victory.

Curses and shouting and approaching bootfalls followed their trail of broken forest and stupidity, and Athis shouted back something in some language that was clearly not Nordic and also clearly incredibly filthy. Arrows and steel bolts whizzed past them, hitting the trees but miraculously none of them, it seemed. The said that Sai the Lucky looked out for the drunks, after all.

Aela threw back her head, laughter hoarse and loud catching and spreading like fire across their group. She was the only one still somewhat sober, not tripping on roots or cutting her feet on the rocks. Ergnir was slipping on the mud, bleeding from several cuts, bruised and sure to feel it well into the following week. But Vilkas ran at his side, smile wide enough to hurt, and nothing else mattered.

--

“That was spectacular!”

“Hold still, ice-brain! Why did you punch that wall?”

“The banner was taunting me.”

--

They were hiding in a cave that reeked of corpses and bear, strangely all of them together, in one piece. Ria was covered in blood, but it wasn’t hers, and if Ergnir looked a little closer, there was the outline of a bear lying in a corner. She was also strangely lopsided, until Ergnir realized it was him lying on the floor of the cave.

Someone lit a fire from the remains of a previous hunter’s campfire, and Ria once again surprised them with the variety of ways one can say “having sex” and then put it to rhyme. She danced with Njada until one of them slipped, and then it degenerated into a grappling mud fight, or improved into one as some might say.

They ran into some Khajiit traders, awake at some daedric hour of the night, selling some small strange artifacts that flew a short distance when lighted, and then exploded in balls of colorful light. Farkas and Njada purchased ten, and then fired them at their Shield-Siblings, at the poor Khajiit and at a passing guard who threatened to arrest them all if they didn’t offer him a drink.

That’s when Ergnir realized they were back in Whiterun, somehow, not far from the Battle-Born farm. He was covered in blood and mud and it was still dark, so something wasn’t right: a single night could not possibly be that long. He looked around for the rest of the Companions, aware he didn’t remember how they’d gotten there. He spun too fast and nearly vomited, not for the first time judging by the foul taste in his mouth.

“Where in the – Ria!”

She turned to him with a smile, not wearing any shoes, and did a dance on the spot. Too graceful to be as plastered as him, he thought.

“Ria what… what day is it?”

Someone was racing, it seemed, a couple throw stones away, but he couldn’t tell who they were. Vilkas was nowhere to be seen.

Ria laughed, doubling over. “It’s Morndas, my friend!”

There was shouting, and one of the racers, who turned out to be Aela, was punching someone in the face. They’d been at this for three days.

He limped towards the river, and found his husband sitting on a stone, a dead wolf besides him. Torvar wasn’t far off, inexplicably hollering at the ground about his sore foot. Vilkas was looking at his own hands, but he looked up and smiled when he saw him approaching. He grabbed Ergnir by the middle and held him close, burying his face on Ergnir’s shoulder.

“Well, look who decided to remember me. I didn’t know you were so fast,” he muttered against his skin. Ergnir tangled his fingers on his husband’s hair, and would have cared more about the nonsense if he didn’t have Vilkas’ arms around him, his body a comforting weight against Ergnir’s chest, his lips dragging on Ergnir’s neck. And if both didn’t have erections to kill a dragon with.

“Now, what in Oblivion are you talking about, hm?”

“The race. You beat Athis and Aela before you fell down and vomited, and they’re fast, those two.” Vilkas bit hard his neck, and he inhaled sharply and shuddered.

He looked over to where Aela was helping the Dunmer up off the ground, and their new guard friend was standing off to the side, shaking his head but not intervening. Apparently that’s how Companions decided who was second best.

The night was warm and torchbugs flittered lazily around them. Ergnir rested his forehead on his husband’s, relishing the quiet, and kissed him, biting, licking inside his mouth. When Vilkas moaned, it was low in his chest, and he could feel it too if they were naked. Ergnir straddled Vilkas for better support and attacked the clasps on his armor, wishing to undo them. To think the man he was straddling was his husband, his man, drove him wild. He groaned in frustration.

Torvar picked that moment to wander up to them, smiling. “The banner and I have reached an agreement.”

“Imma pick a fight! Imma pick a fight! I’m gonna trash this guard man thing!”

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

“HOW CAN YOU TELL!?”

“I need you two to move along. Now.”

The guard had his face covered by his helmet, but if they could have seen him they’d see he was making the face one makes when confronted with a turned over cart full of cabbages that have to be picked up one by one, only for some idiot to crash into it and turn it over again. He was trying to herd a violently emotional group of people who faced down monsters and hardened criminals for a living and for fun, people who ordinarily had the organizational skills of an Argonian on Daril and were currently drunker than they’d been since last month, at least. He was doing it as well as a man picked for his job because he couldn’t run, fight or think could do, which meant that Torvar was climbing the roof of Warmaiden’s and Athis had him convinced he didn’t speak a lick of Nordic, “f’lah”.

It got ugly when Njada tried to set the man on fire, it seemed, with the extra exploding lights she’d acquired from the Khajiit under suspicious circumstances. The guard tried to grab her arm and Ria lunged at him, shouting about honor and sisterhood. She was missing half of her armor, but she had the hat that one drunk Argonian had stolen from a bandit camp on a dare.

Vilkas pulled on his arm and guided him to a dark corner behind Warmaiden’s, far from the noise. Ergnir tried to object, with a smile, about abandoning them.

“They’ll be fine. Ria once killed a charging bear with a stick, love, they’ll be just fine.”

“I’m not worried about them –”

The rest of his sentence was cut down by Vilkas’ teeth, biting at him in a kiss that only grew closer. And if the guards or a passing beggar heard them panting in the dark, they left them to it.

Farkas and Aela were missing, thankfully, because apparently when you fight one Companion you fight them all, unless they’re off somewhere making love. The guards had already taken Athis and Ria, both alternating between claiming they didn’t speak the language and insulting the men in all the languages they did know, and a couple more guards were figuring out how get Torvar down from the roof without casualties. It took five men and women and waking up half the neighborhood to hold Njada down and get her to stop screaming obscenities.

Finally, there was some quiet.

Vilkas and Ergnir walked hand in hand towards the Mead Hall. The streets were awash in the cold morning light, silent and still. The training yard behind Jorrvaskr looked demolished; Tilma knew better than to bother with it right before they came back, and she always somehow knew when they’d be back. They righted a bench and took a seat on their favorite nook of the wall, their backs to the sunrise beyond. They’d seen enough of them together, and would see many more if the gods smiled down upon them. For the moment, they leaned on each other, enjoying the rare private moment in their busy life.

There was a crunching of stone under boots, and when he opened his eyes, Ergnir saw Torvar with his rose shaped staff, smiling at them. Farkas was standing to his right, wearing nothing but the banner, and Aela to his left, wearing nothing at all. It was fortunate they’d come back, still, because when she ran off nobody wanted to go looking for Aela.

“Guess what I forgot about!”

A groan.

He waved the staff and aimed it at a spot in front of him. They should have really asked him about the staff, they realized, when a Dremora appeared before them, smile showing off his sharp teeth.

“What!”

Vilkas jumped to his feet, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there. They’d left them as collaterals at the meadery when they showed up pounding on the door some time before the racing incident, now Ergnir remembered, too short on gold for everything they wanted to buy. The man had taken all their weapons, telling them to come back for them when they were sober and had the coin. He’d also said something about a service to the Hold, but they’d already had a barrel in their hands.

But there was nothing to worry about, as Torvar would reassure everyone over drinks when this tale was retold, because him and his drinking buddy were old friends, really, and the staff had been a gift from another old friend. Indeed, the Dremora carried with him not a weapon, but a cask of the strongest, nicest wine they ever tasted before or since.

--

And that’s how the story of The Marriage of the Harbinger and the Dragonborn and its Celebration ends, and how the story of The Rescue of the Harbinger and the Dragonborn from Solstheim, also known as The Time Aela the Huntress Punched All the Werebears, begins.

Yay! Glad you liked it OP! J'zargo was so much fun to write ;)

I'm in the middle of writing something similar to this! How strange!

I've been bad and not updated for a while but I'm getting back on it soon. It's called "In Hot Water" and it's part of a series of DB/Ghorbash stories.

Anyway, I hope someone fills this wonderful prompt for you OP!

I second it :)

Passerby!anon really enjoyed this!

~~also that DB looks and sounds exactly like me/my DB holy crapsicles >.>~~

I'd like a fic that explores Calder's feelings for a preferably male Dragonborn who sided with the Empire. I always found it interesting that he's just as ready to die for an Imperial as he is for a Stormcloak, considering you've just killed his jarl and probably a bunch of people he knew. What does he see in the Dragonborn?

Feel free to make his feelings for the Dragonborn whatever you like, as long as he genuinely wants to be sworn to him. Make it a bromance or a romance or whetever else you feel like.

cicero/f!db, non/dubcon

the new listener, despite being an assassin, is quite young and innocent. cicero can't help but be disgustingly attracted to it. maybe it starts out simple, manipulating her into taking him along on her adventures, and it progresses. eventually it gets to actually taking her, either by losing his patience and forcing himself on her or more manipulation.

lots of guilt n angst and regret and creepy obsessiveness? cicero doesnt want to defile her and take that innocence away but he cant stop himself.

uuuh, no paticular squicks to think of, this is gross as it is, but if... you could add some details about si..ze... diffenrece.... f!db being more petite than him... y..ea.h...

Confined to the restraints of the console version, I've had to come up with new ways to keep Skyrim exciting. Usually this means filling up a room in my lakeside mansion with a random item (word of advice: do not try this with mountain flowers unless you have a *lot* of patience), but occassionally I incorporate roleplaying elements.

In my latest playthrough my character is a 12-year-old girl, and after a while I start to wonder... Just how *would* the story change if the Dragonborn was a child? Would the Imperials be so quick to execute her? What about quests? Surely people aren't just going to point this poor kid to a bandit-invested cave and tell her to come back with their family sword, right?

More importantly, though, just how would she handle being Dragonborn? That's a lot of weight on a kid's shoulders, and a lot of risk to boot - and who is going to believe this scrawny kid who hasn't even hit puberty is destined to beat Alduin, anyway?

There's so much potential here, guys, and I'd love to see it explored. All of the little details, such as gender, race, and backstory, are up for grabs. I just want to see someone work through the ramifications of the hero of legend being a kid, with a kid's thoughts and feelings and a kid's limitations.

Alduin's not exactly a sympathetic character, but I always found the part of the game after you return from Sovngarde - when Paarthurnax is mourning him - to be oddly emotional. This part:

"Happy? No, I am not happy...Alduin was once the crown of our father Akatosh's creation. You did what was necessary. Alduin had flown far from the path of right action in his pahlok - the arrogance of his power. But I cannot celebrate his fall. He was my brother once. The world will never be the same."

So here's my prompt: Nord Dragonborn has a lot of sympathy for the Stormcloak cause, but ultimately sides with the Legion. Then DB either (1)slays Alduin and is baffled by Paarthurnax's outlook, right up until he/she has to kill Ulfric, or (2)finishes the Civil War before killing Alduin, and returns to commiserate with Paarthurnax about brilliant, gifted people who wasted themselves in the pursuit of power.

*Bonus: include Rikke in any way and I'll love you forever.

~~and a kid's mysterious immortality~~

Just kiddin'. OP I'd love to give this a try! I've got another fill I'm working on at the moment but once I wrap that up I'll pop right on over here!

i second this please

There aren't enough Cicero prompts. There can never be enough Cicero prompts.

Pretty much what it says in the subject line. Emphasis on the D/S. Dubcon is a kink; responsible safe consensual BDSM partnerships are great too. Dom!Cicero is preferred but if you prefer to write sub!Cicero go for it. Gender is up to you.

Squicks: Blood. Anything that would require medical attention.

Thank you.

Thirded!

Hello there everyone :) Author anon of this silly story here, just reposting this fic to fix things up a bit and organize things to make it a little less confusing.

Please note, A Study's main fill will be updated here henceforth!

*****

Original prompt of my dear OP is here:
skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal.com/3288.html?thread=1820888#t1820888

Prompt was: Futa!FemDragonborn/Aela impregnation, possible Bestiality
Pairing(s): F!Dragonborn/Aela, past!Skjor/Aela, Farkas/Spiders
Genre: Comedy, Romance, Action/Adventure
Recurring Characters of this fill: F!Dragonborn, Aela, The Companions
Kinks so far: Implications of werewolf sex, unresolved sexual tension, Derpvahkiin
Warnings: violence, mentions of blood during said violence, curse words, lesbian relationship, bards getting beaten up
Delicious Series tag: valen_the_bard
Summary: Accidentally sleeping with your follower is one thing... but accidentally making them your werewolf mate, while your relationship is only supposed to be platonic and not romantic and filled with sexual tension because there is no way Aela has feelings for her stupid-faced Harbinger at all... Yeah.

Disasters happen.

*****

All side-stories will be posted here:
valenthebard.tumblr.com/

Interactive Timeline of both the main fill and the side-stories is linked here:
www.tiki-toki.com/timeline/entry/120182/A-Study-of-Werewolf-Mating-Rituals-Timeline/

(I will be fixing the chapters up a little bit, so... um, expect a slow repost XD I'll do the best I can to have everything up quickly, though! Oh dear...)

*****

Other notes:

Side-stories (including the earlier ones that were posted along with the main fill, i.e. Getting Along and The Haunted House of Markarth) will be added on my tumblr account, for the sake of making this a wee bit easier to navigate around for you guys.

Thanks for the kind anon who suggested this, by the way *salute* ;)

Also, last note: If, by any chance, I made an oversight and am going against any one of the rules of this kink meme, please kindly notify me and I will fix this mistake at the immediate!

Well, while I'm here, please allow me to thank you all very much for sticking with this dummyAuthor!Anon, you guys :')

You are all amazing, wonderful people, and I had the greatest pleasure of connecting with you. Brilliant, brilliant lot you are. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that you people are the motivation that keeps me writing, from the beginning of this fill until this very moment.

Very sorry as well for taking so, so long for Part 2 to happen, including all the current and future prompts I have, or might take too long to write. I will most definitely do my best for you lot, however, and work very, very hard to see this fic to the end.

Thanks again for the wonderful support :) Hell, I'd also like to take a minute to thank this flawless kink meme, too. Kudos, skm moderators, for all your hard work!

Sincerely,
A!A

I play on a PC and used console commands to marry multiple people (including those not marriageable without some dicking about with commands). I had quite a collection of spouses (spice?) wandering around my house before I tried to divorce some of them (because their dialogue once we got hitched became about as interesting as their cooking... Call me a jerk but I get sick of the same damn pie every day) and managed to break my game.

Cool story bro. Anyways, I like to imagine the irresistibly charismatic DB with a big polyamorous marriage. A clusterfuck, only good. This doesn't need to be smutty, just preferably happy and fluffy. Any and all races and genders are welcome, but I prefer male DB and at least 1 dude in the marriage. Kinks include men doing domestic chores and everyone getting along unrealistically well, and any sexytimes to be enthusiastic consent... Pls no non-con or dub-con :)

If you can put Argis the Bulwark in an apron doing the dusting, all the internets shall be yours :)

passerby!anon likes this, likes this very very much !
i also have a special something for Mercer Frey and every request & fill is delighting !
your description of our beloved Guild Master is amazing, I´m gnawing my fists while waiting for more.

omg, THIS PROMPT. Seconded with the fire of a thousand burning suns.

That story was awesome, but OP's response made me laugh xD

My latest save file, I've actually put off on joining the Companions (that's normally the first thing I do once I hit Whiterun...), and I see Vilkas and Ria everywhere together. Fighting sabre cats in Riften, or kicking a troll's ass outside Dawnguard, etc etc.

So yes. I want them. Fluff, smut, angst, don't care. This could be before/during/after the DB joins them, don't care. I ship these two now, and I just want to read some stuff with them.

Only squicks would be bathroom fluids.

Bonus round: Ria gets her silly self knocked out and Vilkas gets all territorial and shifts to kill the rest of the -insert enemy here-. Whether she wakes up to see him, or is completely unaware (being knocked out and all) would be up to A!A

I love this.

The feels... I can't handle them... This is absolutely perfect.

Oooh, this could be...interesting...;)

Thirded!

It was a good story, ok? Also I'm still in my bunk, do you mind

jk ;)

<3

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 4 of 264

«

»