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skyrimkinkmeme CLOSED FOR PROMPTS,
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.
>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.
>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.
An Unwanted Pregnancy
Date: 2013-08-05 07:00 pm (UTC)Bonus points if this happened shortly before the game begins, and extra bonus points if she was impregnated by a supernatural creature such as a werewolf or a vampire. (I kind of have a huge knotting kink >.>)
Re: An Unwanted Pregnancy
Date: 2013-08-05 11:39 pm (UTC)I'll be in my bunk, awaiting this fill!
Different Types of Scars 1/?
Date: 2013-08-07 01:31 am (UTC)char: F!DB, M!NPC, Ingun Black-Briar, Lydia
relationships: het, femmeslash
Summary: After Jeane is captured and raped in the woods of Cyrodiil by something more beast than man, she tries to get on with her life. Then she finds out she's the Dragonborn. Then she finds out she's pregnant, and enlists some unusual help in her quest to get an abortion.
Notes: Sorry this is my first time writing smut so it's going to be kind of short if that's okay.
Jeane lay awkwardly on the ground with her hands and ankles tied together, bruised and battered and absolutely terrified of the man who looked through the wreckage of her caravan. He'd killed Talas. He'd killed S'Ira. He'd killed Llandreri and beaten her until she could barely walk and now he approached her again, dragging her up by her hair until she stumbled to her feet. "Up, little archer." His voice was a throaty growl, terrifying and deep. "We have to hide before the guards find us." Too terrified to argue, Jeane simply focused on putting one foot in front of the other and not falling as he dragged her behind him. Her head barely reached his shoulder, something which he seemed to find amusing.
When they arrived at his shelter, a small cave in the rocks hidden by a stream and filled with disgusting, greasy furs, her feet were bleeding and her breath was ragged. He shoved her to the ground, so her face was in the furs and some small part of her quietly marvelled at all of the gold that surrounded her, and dumped the cargo she'd been hired to protect, a collection of outfits for some lord in Solitude, on the ground next to her. Then he reached down and her slashed the rope around her ankles with his dagger. She had no shoes to remove so he grasped her belt and undid it, pulling down her trousers before hooking his fingers in her smallclothes.
She closed her eyes and began to shake. The air was cool on her cunt. He crawled forward, making room for himself between her legs with his knees as his cock tickled her ass. He leaned forward, his fingers roving everywhere under her shirt, twisting her nipples cruelly as he nibbled on her ear and bit her neck and placed the heaad of his cock at her opening. Then he paused, and seemed to reconsider. "Been a long time." His words were hot and heavy against her shoulder. "You a virgin?"
"Yes." She whispered. "Please..."
"Say another word and I'll slit your throat and fuck your corpse." He whispered as he adjusted himself so her belly was off the ground. One of his hands snaked down between her legs, rubbing in slow circles against her clit, and Jeane could not help but cry out. "You like that?" And he shoved his fingers inside of her unceremoniously, stretching her apart. As his fingers worked back and forth in her cunt, he thrust his hips so his cock was driven into her asshole and starbursts of pain went off behind her eyes. She shrieked as he slowly worked himself in, past the tightly clenched muscles of her ass. He was a moaning, panting mess as he thrust and filled her with his length, his fingers twisting her clit cruelly and his other hand around her throat, clenching and relaxing to the rocking of his hips and by the time she realized she was coming he was already shooting spurts of hot fire into her bowels as her muscles clenched around him.
She wept with shame as he slowly, agonizingly slowly removed himself. She could see her blood on his cock, shining in the moonlight. He forced her to open her jaw and accept the fingers coated in her juices, tears streaming down her face as his sharp fingernails pressed into the back of her neck.
Then, his weight on her back began to increase.
Then, he removed his hands, leaving blood to trickle down her back as he struggled with her shirt, exposing her breasts.
Then he placed his snout at her ear and he howled.
Different Types of Scars 2/?
Date: 2013-08-07 02:08 am (UTC)He had torn the bindings around her wrist in his desperate thrashings. Slowly, she climbed to her knees and whispered a summoning spell. Then she plunged the ghostly dagger into his chest again and again and again until she was stained with blood and the dagger disappeared. She tried to heal herself fully, but only managed to heal herself halfway, some of the gashes still open wounds, others scabbed over, still more mere scars. Then, with difficulty, she got herself into one of the outfits the noble had ordered. And then she began to run.
----
"And that's how you got captured by the Imperials?" Lydia asked as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
Jeane closed her eyes before taking another sip of her mead. "Yes." She couldn't bear to look at Lydia right now. Nords were not kind to werewolves or victims of rape, and she suspected that somebody who'd been raped by a werewolf would not engender sympathy.
She sat there like that for a few minute before she felt something soft being pressed against her face. "You were crying." Lydia said gently as Jeane snatched the handkerchief from her, embarrassed beyond belief. "I would not judge you for this. You are nineteen. You have saved all of Skyrim, been to Sovngarde and back, and you are my Thane. I do not think less of you for the actions of a monster." Jeane had never met her parents but she imagined that her mother would have embraced her like Lydia did just then, and allowed her to weep on her shoulder like Lydia did. When Jeane had control of her emotions again, she pulled back from Lydia and wiped at her eyes. "Have you considered the possibility that you might be pregnant?" Jeane dropped her flagon and mead spilled across the floor. "I see that you have not."
"It's been five months." Jeane stammered.
"I assume that you've been getting your period regularly during those five months?" Lydia asked gently.
"No but-"
"Then it's likely that you are." Lydia sighed. "Find an alchemist that you trust and make your decision. Tell nobody how you got pregnant. I would not have you subjected to the gaze of all of Skyrim." She leaned forward and gripped Jeane's shoulder. "Do you understand? I will not judge you, but others will."
"Yes." Jeane whispered. "Get me a carriage to Riften."
Fill: With Child 1a/?
Date: 2013-09-15 02:21 pm (UTC)Tags: f!DB, non-con, pregnancy, h/c, race: nord, char: hadvar
*-*-*
She ran. Falchion ran as fast as her aching legs could carry her, away from Darkwater Crossing, and the were-beast that had stumbled across her little campsite and rutted on her. He had woken her as he had spread her unwilling legs, and pushed a massive knot into her, spilling what had felt like gallons of seed in her sex. She was trapped by his knot, tying them together, even as her blood and his seed trickled down her thighs.
She had never wished death upon another living being in her life, but as she stumbled and scurried through bushes and thorny undergrowth, she hoped every inhabitant of Darkwater Crossing picked up their pitchforks and torches and hunted the animal to extinction.
And then she ran straight into a campful of the Imperial Legion. She could have wept for relief: they would help her, save her from the monster that hunted her even now.
No such luck. The Imperial Captain saw only her ragged clothes and her breathless running and assumed that she was on the run from the law. She was bound, gagged and tossed into a carriage.
*-*
The Nord in binds across from her had kind blue eyes and a deep respect for tradition. She neither knew of nor cared about the Jarl beside her, nor the local politics. All she cared about was getting as far from the were-beast and Darkwater Crossing as she could She could explain the Legion's error to the Captain, or maybe the kind, brown haired lieutenant later.
Was the horse thief to share the rebels' fate? Was she? When the Captain ordered the archers to take down the fleeing man, Falchion knew she had no more laters in which to explain away the mistake they had made. So Helgen was to be her final resting place; perhaps it was as well to let them end her days, it would prevent what the beast's nature intended, and she would not be a fertile furrow to grow his seed.
And then the dragon attacked, and all was chaos. She hesitated outside the Keep, trying to decide which of her rescuers to follow. A roar from the dragon sent her scurrying after the legionary.
*-*
The taste of fresh air outside the tunnels of Helgen was like the taste of fresh water in the Alik'r. After the dragon flew off, Falchion paled and vomited for a long time, heaving dryly after the little she had consumed made its' way violently out. Hadvar, bless him, had held her head steady and rubbed her back until even the tremors stopped, and insisted on walking her to his uncle's home in Riverwood.
*-*-*
Re: Fill: With Child 1b/?
Date: 2013-09-15 02:51 pm (UTC)*-*-*
Falchion stood motionless before the Guardian Stones for a long time, internally cursing her own inner weakness. If she chose the Thief she could avoid
rutting werebeastsenemies, but if she chose the Wizard, she could incinerate them with a thought. She chose the Warrior, and hoped she had been wise."I'm not surprised. I knew you shouldn't have been on that cart the moment I laid eyes on you," Hadvar said cheerfully.
"Then why didn't you ask me why I'd run into your camp?" Falchion asked, not without a little spite: she knew Hadvar had not been the one to order her bound without interrogation, nor the one to order her executed without trial, but the fact of it still stung. Hadvar looked hurt so she decided to lighten her words with some humour. "Besides, being named for a sword, I couldn't possibly choose otherwise, could I?"
*-*
Falchion parted ways from Hadvar on good terms with him, but utterly unconvinced by his pleas to join the Legion, not after what had - and what had almost - happened.
She explored the Barrow, and headed to Whiterun to warn the Jarl: he was certainly not to blame for her bad experiences, and perhaps she would let him know that werewolves roamed the countryside, preying on innocent travellers.
She had never killed anything like a flying, fire-breathing monster before; when the thing's soul entered her - against her wishes - Falchion vomited at the Western Watchtower. Irileth eyed her with disdain, but she heard two of the city guards doing the same in the nearby bushes, so she didn't feel badly about herself. Besides which, the hardy mer Housecarl was a seasoned campaigner, and even she looked pale after that fight.
When Jarl Balgruuf named her Thane, Falchion was most glad to be gifted with Lydia, for she had few friends and nobody to talk to except for the Housecarl. It took some time to get to know Lydia, for the two women were both reserved, and not prone to idle chatter, but after saving one another's hides several times in Valtheim Towers, Redoran's Retreat, and Silent Moons Camp, they became firm friends.