#farkas always gets hit on

[localthumbcache]

WHAT

[coffee-at-daybreak]

burning | vilkas x reader

this is very enemies to lovers-esque, i find that trope fitting for vilkas. there is some mild steam thrown in but nothing too suggestive. im just very sick and sleepless rn so i had to crank something out to keep me sane :} hope you guys like it!

"You got lucky this time," you say as you finally finish wrapping the gauze around Farkas's hand. "That sword could have cut much deeper."

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing we've got you on standby," he responds gruffly, flexing his palm. The dusky white bandage sits firmly against his skin. He gives you a wide grin. "Thank you, Harbinger."

You nod. "You're welcome. Just... don't make it a habit, yeah?"

Farkas chuckles. "Course. I'll be more careful. See you." He turns and heads back to the training field outside of Jorrvaskr, where he joins Ria's side as they watch Athis and Torvar engage in a practice sparring session. The approaching dusk is bringing a chill to the air, yet the Companions continue their training like nothing.

As you gather the materials you were just using to patch up Farkas's hand, you feel a tingling sensation crawling along your scalp. Someone's glare is practically digging daggers into your skin. You turn around to make your way back into the building, and you lock eyes with Vilkas, who stands next to the door with his back leaning against the wall and his arms folded across his chest.

His gaze reminds you of being hit with an ice spike spell: shards of piercing, pale blue striking right through you and leaving you momentarily breathless. You break eye contact, but the prickling feeling of his eyes on you follows you even when you slip through the door and into the building.

You head for one of the shelves in the corner to put away the bandages and anti-infection salves you used. You hear footsteps coming in behind you.

"How'd he hurt himself this time?" Vilkas asks.

You peer at him over your shoulder. His gaze is averted, pretending to adjust the rug on the floor with his boot. Not so glare-y now, is he?

"It was a sword, from his spar session with Njada." You step away from the shelf and brush past him as you head for the staircase leading into the living quarters below. "She's getting better. She gave him a pretty nasty cut this time."

Vilkas scoffs. "Didn't look nasty enough to need you there working on him for that long."

You stop in your tracks and whip around. This time, his eyes flick up to meet yours. The tingling sensation returns to your skin, except now, it spreads beyond just your head, running down your spine.

"Excuse me?" You cross your arms. "He was hurt, and I knew how to patch it up quick."

"Yes, so does Tilma," Vilkas protests, referring to the elderly servant who is often around tending to the Companions. He tilts his head, eyeing you intently. "Yet you always seem eager to step up first."

Heat floods the tips of your ears. "I'm the Harbinger. Part of my job is looking after the others."

"Yes, yes, I'm not denying that." The Nord waves his hand loosely. "Just pointing it out. This is the third time this has happened, you know?"

You snort. "What, you're keeping track now?" You narrow your eyes. "Hang on. You're jealous."

The eye roll you get in return is equal parts infuriating and attractive. "Please. Don't be childish," he mutters.

You ignore him and play the dangerous game of poking him further. "You know you can get yourself hurt around me, too." You crack a super sweet, super fake smile. "If you ask nicely, I might patch you up."

"I would rather bleed out and die, thank you."

You shake your head, looking away in exasperation. That has to be the cause for your heart rate rising and your temperature climbing. He is exasperating.

"I'm just looking out for him," Vilkas speaks up. When you glance at him, you realize he has stepped closer. You stare back at his storm-colored eyes, as intimidating as they are. "I don't want him making the mistake of getting tangled up with you."

You almost laugh at that, and bite your lip to keep from smiling. Vilkas's eyes dart down for just a second before meeting your own. You try to pretend like that gesture doesn't make your heart skitter.

"Give him some credit, he's smarter than that," you say. "He's just a friend. Not that you know what that is, you ray of sunshine, you."

His jaw clenches, and you watch the muscles of his neck flex as he swallows. Whatever insult he had ready, he thought better of it. A rush of victory swells in your chest.

But you see a flicker of something in his eyes, and there's a sinking sensation in your belly. Amongst the hard, icy emotions of that glare, there's something much softer. Something vulnerable, something you can't pinpoint but you recognize all the same, because it's something you've felt as well.

This is how it's been for a long time, too damn long. You hide behind your quips and your insults because you're afraid to face reality. The heavy, heart-wrenching reality that you have feelings for each other. To everyone else, it looks like you hate each other, when really, you hate how much you love each other.

"It's hard to be a ray of sunshine when you're a godsforsaken pain in my ass," Vilkas growls, and takes another step closer.

You should step back, you should. But the proximity of his body near yours traps you in place, and eventually, draws you in. You dare to lean closer.

"Well, I would stop, if it wasn't oddly entertaining," you murmur. "You are easy to rile up."

"You haven't seen me truly riled up."

The eye contact is searing your skin and blood, yet you don't dare break it. The voice in your mind is now screaming at you - back away, push him away, just move.

But there is also a voice telling you to grab him, to pull into him, to surrender. It takes all the effort in the world to resist.

"Not yet, maybe," you jab. "How do I get there? Do I have to patch up more muscular men?"

"Shut up," he warns, a hiss through his teeth.

"Or should I head to the inn and-"

You don't even get to finish your incessant babbling before his hand reaches for the back of your neck. You don't flinch - in fact, you let him pull you in and crash his lips against your own.

It's exactly as you imagined it, which embarrassingly, you did a lot. It's rough and firm and electrifying. His breath is hot as it mingles with your own, his stubble scraping the skin around your mouth. Your hands subconsciously claw at his torso, pulling him as close as you can, until you feel his chest against your own, drawing in the same heavy breaths that you are. His free hand grasps your hip, and your breath hitches briefly before he is plunging back in with a kiss so hard that his teeth skim over your bottom lip.

There is that hot, searing fire you always feel around him, coursing through your entire being. Burning hatred, burning desire. No difference right now, just one overwhelming inferno.

Muffled voices and laughter approach the doors a few feet away from you. Just as quickly as it happened, Vilkas lets you go. He steps back in two long strides just as the door opens.

Ria was busy giggling at something Torvar said, but she is quick to notice the tension in the room. "Woah. What's going on?" She looks between you and Vilkas. "You two look like you're about to kill each other."

You can't come up with a reasonable response, not when you're still trying to catch your breath, when your lips are still tingling with sparks and your mind is still in a white-hot daze. All you can do for a second is foolishly stare at Vilkas.

He glares back at you. Icy eyes that don't cool you down, but only make you feel warmer.

"Just a mild disagreement," he says, looking to Ria with surprising calm. Then he looks back at you. "But we'll settle it later."

Then he turns and walks away, like nothing happened. You almost huff out a breath of awe.

The other Companions pile in, chattering excitedly and ready to start preparing for dinner. You finally manage to move, your legs still feeling a little unsteady, but you try to help the others anyway, and try to keep hating him, even though now you think you love him more than ever.

[vivifriend]

WIP Wednesday

Was tagged by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter

I shall tag @rainpebble3 @pitiable-arisen and anyone else who wishes to join. <3

I've been writing a ton! Just... haven't gotten around to updating anything... So... looking through what I have... Hmmm. Something from a Vilkas chapter.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Waiting until he couldn't catch her scent easily, he turned back to the fire, moving swiftly back to it, pausing when he got closer, not surprised to see that Lewin was awake, propping himself up on one elbow, his attention seemingly focused on Copper. "Everything alright?" he asked, twisting to glance at him.

"Serana wanted to talk to me," he said, moving closer, settling down on Copper's other side, frowning down at them. They're sleeping soundly. I'll have to keep an eye on them. He glanced at him. "About the sparring match. Did you lose on purpose? Could you have defeated Serana?"

"Maybe if I'd faced her first," he admitted, smelling slightly embarrassed. "And if...,"

He smirked. "If you didn't hold back?"

"What makes you think I did?" he asked.

"I could see it when you were fighting Sarlfi and Serana together," he said. "I thought you were tiring when you lowered your arms but you seemed pretty energetic when you came over after."

"I certainly was getting a bit tired," he sniffed. "Sarlfi hits hard, and he outweighs me by a lot."

"Might be twice your weight," he agreed. "Honestly surprises me sometimes that he's not muscle-bound."

"I think his fighting style has a lot to blame for that," he said thoughtfully. "He really likes sweeping moves, and that requires fast movement. Can't do that as easily when muscle-bound."

"That tracks," he said. "Had to get inventive with Farkas at one point. He always liked to show off how strong he was. I don't think he ever realized how popular it made him with the local women." A pang of guilt struck him, a realization sinking in. Vitene was the first woman he cared about the attention with. He never really noticed the others. "He was starting to get slower in training because of it though. And Kodlak wound up finding more jobs for him that required him to navigate tricky landscapes. It was an interesting couple of years."

"How did those jobs help?" he asked.

"Lot of climbing, jumping along narrow ledges, that sort of thing. I usually went with him. Often they were fugitive jobs, since a desperate person will go to great lengths to avoid facing repercussions. There's a shrine to Boethia hidden in the mountains in Eastmarch. It can be hard to get to, which may explain why an inordinately large number of those fugitives were Boethian cultists."

"Most of the followers of Boethia I know are Dunmer," Lewin noted.

"One of the the Three Good Daedra," he agreed.

He smiled, eyes gleaming in the firelight, smelling eager. "Copper mentioned you're a scholar. What have you studied?"

"Oh, anything I can get my hands on," he said easily, resting his hand on Copper's side when they stirred slightly. "I've read every book in Jorrvaskr and Dragonsreach. Before he lost his shop, I had a standing order with Belethor to alert me if anyone brought him a book." He shook his head. "I'll have to make a new deal with whoever takes that shop over."

[the-elder-polls]

Hi!!!! I love your polls and art thanks for your awesome contribution! Here have some free Aeilif dumping :)

Aeilif grew up in Riverwood. Her parents owned a shop there, and when she was a young adult they moved to Cyrodiil to get away from the cold and start a new shop in the city. Aeilif stayed back to run the Riverwood shop herself. She married Halbjorn, her childhood best friend and Whiterun/Riverwood guard.

Their plan was to save up some money and then move to Whiterun, but he was killed on the road by a Thalmor justiciar with no warning. After that, she tried to continue running the store, but she felt too alone and isolated in Riverwood without Halbjorn or her parents. So she gathers up some supplies and hits the road by herself to earn some coin and try to run away from grief.

She ends up mistakenly captured by the empire (cue “hey you you’re finally awake”) and after the dragon attack escapes with Ralof. She runs to Whiterun to tell Jarl balgruuf what happens.

It’s not until she arrives that she realizes that she has lost all of her possessions and money with the exception of a few items she had on her person, so she can’t afford to go to the inn. But Aela happens to be there when she talks to Balgruuf, and invites her to Jorrvaskr for a rest.

Aeilif is reluctant, but ends up joining the companions, thinking it’s an easy way to keep traveling and making coin only with a bit more security. But the longer she’s there, the more she starts to care for her shield-siblings.

Things hit a turning point when she’s badly hurt on a mission to clear out some draugr. Farkas drags her all the way back to Jorrvaskr and they all go out of their way to help her recover and cheer her up. This is when she finally talks about being widowed, and when she realizes that she can open up to the companions, that they’re her family and they actually care about her.

All this time she is in fact the LDB but I think it takes her quite a while to acknowledge and pursue it. When she does, she’s supported and encouraged by the other companions. I havent fleshed that story out much yet but hope to write that eventually! I have this backstory started as its own fic that I might actually post :)

Can’t wait to hear about your OCs! My asks and messages are always open if you want to dump more!

GOD poor girl. fucking thalmor justiciars. its really sweet that she learns to find family and companionship (heh) again!! (also thank you! i'm glad y'all enjoy my polls and art!! <3)

fact for fact: vedathyr wants to get married and have kids and such, but he's so socially awkward that he's given up on ever having either

[daedriclorde]

Loved You All Along

Yeah, so its been about 3 years since I wrote anything. I don’t even know if any of you who were interested in my fanfic are even still here. But y’all know how inspiration works, sometimes its there, and sometimes its left the building. I’ve been doing other creative things in the meantime, like art, but it’s been a minute since I had the urge to write.

Until this week.

I discovered the song “Inkpot Gods” by The Amazing Devil, and this fic just started to write itself.

This is sort of an epilogue to “A Thief in Wolf’s Clothing”. I’m not sure how “canon” it is to my own Skyrim fanfic universe, but I don’t really care. It just exists! Enjoy it or don’t!

Read it here on Ao3

           Farkas pushed open the doors to Jorrvaskr. The familiar scents of smoke and mead and sweat greeted him as he entered the dimly lit hall. It was late, and only a few members of the Companions were still up. Many were out on jobs. Vilkas was away taking care of some problem in Eastmarch. Aela had left that afternoon for The Rift.

           Farkas looked around at the occupants of the hall as he sat and picked up a full tankard. So many of them new and unfamiliar. Once word had spread that the Dragonborn was a Companion, they had a wave of young hopefuls at their doorstep. Most could barely hold a sword, let alone use one. Just like Kjolti.

           But unlike Kjolti, the majority of the would-be whelps had no fire in them. You beat them down once, they didn’t keep fighting. They shook their head, muttered some excuse, and left.

           A few didn’t, though. Some were worthy, and those joined their ranks. Farkas knew that each and every one of them had earned the title Companion. But he still felt distant from them. He didn’t know them. Everything was different now. Skjor still guided the Companions with his firm hand and solid wisdom, but much of the leadership fell to Vilkas, Aela, and himself. He didn’t have as much time to get to know the new bloods. And he was okay with that. They listened when he spoke, they cast awestruck glances at him when he walked past. Once they learned that he trained the Dragonborn, he was different to them.

           That was fine too. Farkas had always been different. He knew it. Never bothered him much. As long as Vilkas and Aela were there with a friendly face and a mug of mead, there wasn’t much that could shake Farkas. Except for when Kjolti left.

           It took him months to shake that gloom. It was strange, the sadness that took over him. It wasn’t sharp or quick, like when Kodlak died. That sadness was like the slice of a blade. When Kjolti left Jorrvaskr, it was quiet and smothering, the pain. It was like climbing too high up a mountainside and fighting the trolls there; there was not enough air to fill his lungs. It was like the days after being hit too hard in the head; nothing seemed to focus, and time passed in funny ways. It was like when he had come down with Bone Break Fever; and all he wanted to do was sleep, and no matter how much he slept he was still tired.

           Those things faded with time. He still missed her, they all did. But slowly, eventually, breathing was easier, and the days were less fuzzy, and he found energy to do what needed to be done.

           Farkas set down the now empty tankard. He was tired, and was ready for sleep. He had cleansed himself of his beast blood months ago, and he never looked back from that choice. Being free of the wolf was like waking up from a daze he didn’t know he was in. He and Vilkas had gone together. They made the choice together that the wolf blood was not how they wanted to live, and eventually die. Aela had kept hers, and that was fine for everyone. That was what the Companions were about. Everyone gets to make the right choice for themselves.

           He lifted his bulk off the bench. A few people gave him nods of acknowledgement as he dismissed himself to the sleeping quarters below. He descended the steps, his footfalls heavy with his exhaustion.

           He walked past the room that had once been Kjolti’s. Watching someone else take Kjolti’s room had been one of the hardest steps. He held no grudge with the new Companion that filled it; Hromir was a fine fighter. But seeing someone else there had been hard.

           Farkas rounded the corner to the hall that held his room. He wearily pushed open the doors to his room. He turned to light the lantern on the table, shutting the doors behind him as he did. Once he turned around again, his heart jumped and he reached for his weapon.

           There was a figure sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed. It wore black, serious looking armor. They wore no helm, and as the face turned toward him, Farkas’s heart stopped.

           Two beautiful silver moons gazed up at him.

           “Hey, Farkas,” Kjolti said quietly.

           Farkas fell to his knees and swept her up in an embrace. Their metal armor clinked and scraped, and Kjolti made a soft surprised sound as he wrapped himself around her, but she fell into the hug, resting her head on his shoulder.

           They sat like that for a long moment, tangled together on the floor, probably looking for all the world like a pile of scrap metal. Farkas gripped her like she would slip out of his arms if he didn’t hold tight enough; he knew she could. He pressed his head against hers, dug his fingers into her hair. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to.

           For several moments they remained like this, before eventually pulling away to look at one another. There was trepidation and uncertainty in Kjolti’s eyes, but also softness, and her slight smile was friendly. Farkas’s eyes held concern and wonder.

           He cupped her face with his hands. “You’re still alive,” he whispered. “You’re here.”

           She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek. “I’m alive, and I’m here.” She grinned as she ran her fingers over the coarse hair on his cheek. “You have a beard now.”

           Farkas grinned boyishly. “Yeah,” he said. They both chuckled softly before their faces grew more serious again. “I’m not a werewolf anymore.”

           Kjolti cocked her head. “Truly? I’m…surprised. Impressed.”

           Farkas nodded. “Me and Vilkas, we both did it. Decided we didn’t want it anymore. But Aela still is. She likes it that way.”

           Kjolti still stroked his cheek. “How do you feel? Any regrets?”

           “No. It is better this way. I prefer my head clear and my instincts my own. The Inner Circle does not require the wolf blood any longer. Some still choose it, and Aela has been a forebear for two more members since you left, but it is their choice.”

           Kjolti smiled and leaned into his touch. “Well, I’m proud of you. It is a hard thing, I know, and you were with your wolf spirit much longer than I was.”

           Farkas felt himself grow warm and tingly. His heart rate had not slowed down since discovering Kjolti in his room. “You’re here,” he breathed again, his eyes shining in the dim light.

           This time Kjolti’s face faltered slightly. “I’m here. For now.”

           Farkas’s face fell. “When are you leaving? Why are you here?”

           Kjolti looked down. “Just for tonight. I have to go in the morning.”

           “Where are you going?”

           Kjolti’s face broke and trembled. “I—I,” She began to tear.

           Farkas pulled her in again. “Shh. Shh, it’s okay.”

           Kjolti fell upon him, this time holding him tighter than before.

           Farkas stroked her hair. “Let us be more comfortable. May I help you with your armor?”

           Kjolti pulled away and looked like she was about to refuse, but then quietly said, “Okay.”

           Farkas helped her to her feet and began to unclasp her armor. “By the Gods,” he whispered. “Where did you get this armor?” It was black as night, and sinister in its design. “Is this ebony?” It didn’t look like ebony.

           Kjolti shook her head. “No, its—actually, the less you know about this armor, the better, probably.”

           “I will take your word for it.” Piece by piece, Farkas removed the heavy plate from Kjolti’s body and gently set it aside, admiring it all the while.

           Kjolti removed the rest herself. She was wearing thin deerskin leggings and a long sleeve cotton shirt beneath, the front laces open and loose. She turned to him. “May I?”

           Farkas was certain his face was red. To have Kjolti in his rooms, having helped her out of her armor, and her offering to help him out of his, was a lot for him to take in. But he didn’t care if the emotion showed on his face. She was there with him, and that’s all he cared about. He nodded.

           Kjolti began to deftly undo the fastenings on the wolf armor Farkas wore. He knew she was familiar with it, knew its workings. He knew she would care for the armor properly.

           Soon, Farkas stood in his quilted breeches and plan homespun tunic. Kjolti stood behind him, having undone and set aside the last pieces of his armor. She reached up and traced the line of a scar on the back of his neck. He shivered at her touch. “Is this new?” She asked.

           Farkas nodded, turned to her. “Sabre cat,” he confirmed. He noticed the skin on her forearm was pink and shiny and puckered. He gently took her arm and inspected it. She flinched slightly. “What happened?”

           “Nothing. It’s just a burn.”

           “Let me see.” Kjolti looked at him, unsure for a moment, then pulled her shirt off. She had a form fitting leather vest protecting her modesty, that ended just below her bust. Farkas was sure his ears were bright red. He didn’t care.

           The burn went up her arm to her shoulder, and covered much of her side as well.

           “How did this happen? How did you get burned like this?”

           “How do you think?” She looked at him sharply.

           It’s from a dragon, he realized. “Oh.” He pulled his own shirt off. “This is new too,” he said, pointing at a long series of scars stretching across his bicep. “This is from a troll.”

           Kjolti’s brow furrowed as she inspected it. “How did it get through your armor?”

           “I wasn’t wearing any. It attacked while I was sleeping.”

           Kjolti nodded with understanding. The light caught a mark on her midsection. Farkas reached out and gently stroked it, his hand trembling. “What is this from?” The top of the scar was just under the leather vest covering Kjolti’s chest, and stretched diagonally across her body to her hip.

           Kjolti turned away. “That’s very old.”

           “When did it happen? What is this from?”

           “Before I became a Companion.” Farkas was once again reminded that Kjolti had been a thief before joining the Companions, back when she was called Aerisif. It was hard to picture her as anything other than the fierce fighter who came into her own in Jorrvaskr.

           “What happened?” Farkas sounded grave.

           “Nothing. It’s fine.”

           Farkas caught her face and turned it to his. His eyes were full of worry.

           Kjolti tried to smile, to play it off and break the tension. “Someone tried to kill me a long time ago. They almost did, but someone else saved my life, with a poisoned arrow, of all things. Not the only time I’ve nearly died.” She began to get shifty.

           Farkas clasped her hands and pulled her to sit next to him on his bed. “Why did you come?”

           Kjolti wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I wanted to—I wanted to see you again. Before I go.”

           “Where are you going? I will come with you.”

           “You can’t come with me, Farkas.”

           “I would follow you to the ends of the world, Kjolti. There is nowhere I wouldn’t follow you.”

           She looked at him now, tears pooling in her eyes. “You can’t come with me, Farkas. Not where I’m going.”

           “Kjolti,” Farkas’s voice dripped with worry. “Where are you going?” He gripped her hands tighter.

           She sniffed. “To Sovngarde.”

           Farkas’s heart sank. “What?” He said, alarmed and panicked. “No, no. You can’t die.”

           Kjolti shook her head. “That’s not how I’m getting there. There’s a portal. A secret door, that Alduin has been using. Odahviing is going to fly me there.”

           “Who?”

           “The dragon we caught up in Dragonsreach.”

           Farkas nodded thoughtfully. “I should have known that you would have been involved with that.” He contemplated a moment. “The dragon will just have to fly us both.”

           “No, Farkas, you can’t come.”

           “A dragon should easily be able to carry both of us.”

           “The portal, Farkas. Only the dead or one with a dragon’s spirit can enter. If you tried, you wouldn’t make it. You can’t come.” She was crying now.

           Farkas gently wiped away her tears. “But you’ll come back?”

           Kjolti’s chest heaved for a moment as she tried to resist her grief, but she was overcome and fell into Farkas once more, sobbing. He held her tenderly as she cried. He had never seen Kjolti this vulnerable before, and she had been going through a lot of grief when she was with the Companions. It frightened him to see her this distraught. Farkas wanted nothing more than to hold her forever, to keep her safe in his arms. He became intensely aware that neither of them were wearing a shirt, and the intimacy of their skin pressed against one another was consuming.

           “I don’t know, Farkas.” She whispered. “I don’t know if I’ll make it back.” She sniffed. Then, so so quietly, she breathed: “I’m scared.”

           Farkas completely scooped her up. They had never been so physically close, ever. He had held her in his arms before, yes, but usually with armor on, or in different circumstances than this, in his bed, barely dressed. He held her completely in his arms, and she wrapped her arms around him, shaking. Farkas breathed in the scent of her hair, felt her soft skin beneath his calloused hands.

        ��  He held her there for a long time, waiting for her breathing to calm and the sobs to subside. He stroked her hair all the while, pressed his head against hers. Farkas drank in the minutes, becoming intoxicated with the intimacy. This was everything he had wanted. To hold Kjolti, to be her comfort when she needed it. His heart soared and fell in equal measures, to have this desire fulfilled but to know it wouldn’t last.

He held her anyway.

           Soon Kjolti lifted her head from Farkas’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. He gently wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry to just show up like this and be such a miserable mess. I don’t mean to upend your life. I should go.” She made no motion to leave.

           “Don’t go,” Farkas pleaded. “Stay with me. Please. Stay with me tonight.”

           Kjolti nodded. “Okay.” She sniffed. “Thank you, Farkas.”

           “Why did you come here? To me?”

           Kjolti hesitated a moment before meeting his gaze. “Because,” she began. “Because if I don’t make it back, if this is my last night alive—” she took a steadying breath. “I wanted it to be with you. It’s selfish, I know. But I was scared, and nobody else cares that I’m terrified, they all just care about what I have to do, and I understand—that’s all that matters to them, for me to save the world. I know I have to. It might kill me. I’ll do it anyway. But I know that you,” she paused. “You cared about me before you knew I was the Dragonborn. And I knew you would care that I’m scared. And I—I just wanted that comfort before I go. I wanted to be with someone who saw me, not the legend.”

           Farkas brushed her hair out of her face, taking in her words. “And you will not let me go with you?”

           “I cannot, Farkas. Even if I could, I wouldn’t ask it of you. No.”

           He nodded. “Then let me be the comfort you seek.” He cupped her head in her hand and brought her face to his, drawing her in for a kiss.

           To his surprise, Kjolti reciprocated the intent. She did not pull away, but rather, pushed in closer. When he broke their kiss for a moment, giving her the chance to stop if she wanted, she simply waited for him to come back, and pulled him to her when he did.

           A fire awoke in Farkas. His whole body was awake with sparks. He thought his heart would burst from his chest. Each time their lips met, again and again, his head spun and his heart raced. Kjolti burrowed her hands deep in Farkas’s hair, and pressed her body against his.

           They crashed into the soft furs of his bed together, tangled in one another. Hands entwined in each other’s hair, bare skin pressed close, they drank in one another’s breath like it was their last.

           Kjolti knew it might be.

                                                                       ***

           Farkas softly combed Kjolti’s hair with his fingers. Such a clumsy motion, with sausage-like fingers better suited to swinging steel than brushing hair, but he moved as gently as he could. His thick arms were wrapped around Kjolti, who was likewise wrapped around him, her head nestled against his chest. He watched her eyes grow heavy with sleep. His own eyes struggled to stay open.

           “Rest now,” he whispered. “You are safe with me.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

                                                                       ***

           Kjolti slept like she hadn’t in years. The deep slumber that took her was warm and soft, and dreamless.

           But not very long. She woke a few hours later, knowing she had to be back in Dragonsreach by dawn. And she really didn’t want to deal with the new Companions gaping and clamoring.

           Farkas slept soundly next to her. Seeing him in such restful sleep gladdened Kjolti; she knew the restlessness that came with the beast blood, and was relieved that Farkas was free of it. She gently stroked the hair out of his face. In another life, Farkas, we could have been. I would have been happy to be Kjolti of the Companions with you.

           Slowly, so carefully, Kjolti untangled herself from Farkas and the furs on his bed. She rose and dressed. She found a scrap of paper on Farkas’s desk, and wrote a few words on it. Looking around, Kjolti spotted what she was looking for. An ornately engraved tankard sat on a shelf. She retrieved it, and found the scrap of paper she had left within last time. It was unfolded, and had clearly been held and touched many times. She smiled sadly.

           Kjolti placed the new piece of parchment in the tankard, and left it on his desk. Then she leaned back in to where Farkas was sleeping, and delicately kissed him on the forehead. He stirred slightly, but did not wake.

           “Thank you,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry.”

           She picked up her armor, and silently left.

                                                                       ***

           Farkas knew she was gone even before he opened his eyes. He felt it, her absence.

           He eventually blinked his eyes open. Farkas knew why she didn’t say goodbye, he understood, but it grieved him anyway. His eyes landed on the tankard that he had stolen all those years ago. It wasn’t where he left it.

           Reaching over, he grabbed the mug as his heart pounded with hope.

           Inside was a scrap of parchment that read:

           If I don’t make it back from where I’ve gone, just know I’ve loved you, loved you as I could in my broken way, loved you all along.

           ----

That‘s all! There’s another version of this that gets *adult* if you know what I mean...should I show you guys?

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

So for the oc headcannon...

I feel like Jia liked poetry a lot in her youth and used to read lots of poetry books, especially ones that involved sun/light symbolism. But in recent times, given that she's been through a lot, she hasn't read anything and doesn't really think too much of it. Well, that is until she gets drunk. After a few drinks she will start dramatically reciting sappy romantic poetry (and be adorable af while doing it)! I imagine her and Teldryn discussing the meanings and interpretations very passionately at the Retching Netch :)))

😲 10, 10, 10!!!!! OH MY, YOU HIT THE NAIL RIGHT ON THE HEAD!😍 Jia is half Imperial, so she kind of "inherited" her father's academic nature despite the fact that she grew up with Nords. From a very young age, she became fascinated with the world of knowledge to the point she was always nose-deep in books (if not for Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela, who nearly "forced" her to learn how to fight and defend herself, Jia would be a pure scholar😂). And although she does not sing (only during her bath maybe; she is too shy to sing in crowds if not drunk - I can definitely see Teldryn Sero giving her lots of sujamma to get her tipsy and laugh at her antics), she recently loves to recite poems, thanks to Miraak, and there are quite a few she would love to dedicate to him... maybe some that speak indeed of how elusive is the moon to the sun, how the flame cannot ever unite with the river, and many others similar to these, romantic and sappy just like her! 😂

[augment-techs]

"Pillow Talk" Skull/Billy

"Quite the catch" Bulk/Jason

"Royal pain in the ass" Jack/Sky

Since it's a three in one, I'm going with a theoretical summary/synopsis cluster. Singles next time, please, it makes this a lot cleaner ^^; Title: reckless ambivalence Rating: M Relationships: Billy Cranston/Eugene Skollovitch; Billy Cranston & Farkas Bulkmeier; Billy Cranston & Matthew Cook & Grace Sterling; Billy Cranston & His Parents; Eugene Skullovitch & Stan Skullovitch; Ranger Ensemble. Additional Tags: Coma; Monster Attack Aftermath; Physical Abuse; Parental Neglect; Scarring; Blood; Sibling Relationship; Pining; Guilt; Hand Holding; mention of the Annual Comic that nobody ever brings up gdi; Zordon Admitting to Being a Dick; 5+1 Things. Summary: Billy keeps getting dreams that don't feel like dreams in the aftermath of getting into a verbal fight with Skull, followed by a monster smashing him so hard into a wall that the punk fell into a coma. They were too detailed and the environment felt too much like that time he and his team walked out of Drakkon's make believe world and out into the very ether of the Morphin Grid. "Why do I have to come back again? What do I have to learn?" The questions shouldn't sting so much after the second time he asks Billy, dressed in a hospital gown and draped in orange light like a sundown. Looking so tired and resigned and eyes all wide and wet. But then, Billy actually thinks about it, looks into all the stuff he's missed out on since falling out of Skull's orbit (abandoning him) and begins to feel like he can't breathe: going through Skull's overly full medicine cabinet, helping the nurses in the hospital bathe the blood and sweat off of the scars decorating his back and arms and legs, talking with Bulk about how thin Skull is because his family is always gone and not a lot of people were willing to hire him for odd jobs. What could Billy answer with that could make Eugene (come back) stay?

Title: sheets of egyptian cotton Rating: M Relationships: Farkas Bulkmeier/Jason Scott; Previous Jason Scott/Tommy Oliver/Kimberly Hart; Billy Cranston/Eugene Skullovitch; Rocky Desantos/Adam Park/Aisha Campbell; Zack Taylor/Trini. Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Underwear Model/Ambulance Driver; Kink Model/Nursing Aid; Eating Disorders; Anxiety; Mention of Physical Abuse; Meet Ugly; Substance Abuse; Frottage; Oral Sex; Cuddling. Summary: Probably the worst way to meet a model that Jason could think of was when some asshole got handsy during the after party and the biggest model on the line gets hit in the head with a champagne bottle trying to get the asshole to get the hell out. Still, Jason could kind of count himself lucky. It wasn't every day that he got to meet a plus sized model without a filter from the pain meds wearing nothing but the silky boxer briefs he had on the runway. Or his skittish friend from the BDSM showcase in the building across the street showing up at the hospital in nothing but a silk see-through kimono and an exceptionally complicated looking ensemble with leather and lace. * Title: dancing on the head of a pin Rating: T Relationships: Jack Landors/Sky Tate; Anubis "Doggie" Cruger/Kat Manx; Z Delgado & Bridge Carson & Syd Drew. Additional Tags: Heartbreak; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; That Last Episode Girlfriend Never Really Sat Right With Me; I Do Like Piggy but We ALL Know He'd Find a Way to Fuck Up; Jack Landors Needs a Hug; Sky Tate Kicks Some Ass; Z Delgado is Coming for Blood. Summary: Here's a level of hell that Jack could not imagine when he quit the SPD and went into business with a new girlfriend and Piggy that the ex-Red Ranger was not expecting: his relationship with Ally ending with her and Piggy hooking up and her cheating on him FOR MONTHS before he found out. One would think he was utterly bullet proof, but even after a whole year of taking on the worst of the worst, fighting an intergalactic menace, almost dying; Jack was as emotionally vulnerable as that kid who grew up on the street with nothing and no one. Somehow, though, Jack didn't mind Sky seeing him so vulnerable.

[raynblaze]

In Your Arms Again

It was if the world stopped turning for a moment as Emilia laid eyes on the white wolf that she loved with all her heart.

Farkas had run through the tunnels to get to Glimmerbrook as fast as he could, and he stumbled upon the café where Emilia and Cyrus were at. All his grief and distress stopped for a moment as he saw that she was still alive, and she was running towards him with open arms. He feared that she might have already been in danger, or feared she would turn him away, but there was nothing Emilia wanted more than to see the man she loved again.  

All the bad feelings, doubts about the relationship, and feelings of despair wash away when they look into each other's eyes.

"FARKAS!!"

Emilia jumped into his arms and Farkas looked up at her, and his heart was full for a moment. He embraced her, but then it all hit him again. He broke down on his knees as Emilia asked what was wrong.

"Lucan...he's gone." Farkas started to cry. "The manor is gone. He went there to help you guys...but it was too late. Victoria took his life.”

Emilia gasped and then grabbed Farkas and held him as close as she could.  Lucan had always loved having Emilia around, and was the number one fan of their friendship when they were children. While everyone else tried to keep them from being friends, he encouraged it. She was devastated.        

"I don't know where your mom and brother is, but they are in serious danger." Farkas continued, still upset."

Your dad is nowhere to be found either. My cousin was able to get Eloise out, she's with us in the valley. From what my mother told me, I think Eric must have claimed Vlad's life, and Victoria is taking revenge."

Cyrus Stormsong was still standing near, and listening to their conversation. He was shocked at what he was listening to.

"We have to save them!" Emilia exclaimed.

"We do...but I need to get you back to the valley. You can't be exposed. I can't lose you too..." Farkas squeezed her again. Suddenly Cyrus interjected.

"Farkas is right. You two head back to the valley. I'll find Eric and your mom."

"No, Cyrus...please don't put yourself in harm's way. This is too dangerous!" Emilia was crying now. She felt helpless not being able to do anything for her family, but she didn't want others to get hurt either.

"Emilia...don't worry about me, I got this." Cyrus got a sudden boost of confidence, and his eyes started to light up. The wind suddenly started to pick up as well.

"If Eric is being hunted, then I'm sure his old mentor MaryBell will be looking for him. Perhaps I should pay her a visit. Please, you two need to go back to the valley as soon as possible. I'll get Silas for backup."

Farkas nodded and thanked Cyrus. Emilia was still crying but Farkas hugged her again.

"We'll go through the tunnels again. We can come up with a plan when we get to the valley. It will be safer this way." Emilia grabbed him and kissed him as hard as she could.

"Alright...I'm ready. Cyrus...Please be safe..."          

"Like I said Emilia, I got this. I have a feeling it's going to storm today."

Cyrus has been training to become a powerful storm caster for sometime now. The thought of his beloved Eric being hunted by reckless vampires is a perfect time to see what his powers are really capable of. Oh, and he has a pokemon too.

[alduinsbanes]

1, 7, 20, 33 for Severa; 2, 11, 21, 40 for Cecilia, pretty please 😌

Thank you!!!! 😊

Severa:

1. What’s the one thing they would save in a fire?

As far as like physical objects probably her heirloom necklace. It’s been in her family a long time and means a lot to her and would be distraught if anything were to happen to it. Her father and aunt gave it to her for her 16th birthday so aside from being an heirloom it also has a lot of sentimental value to her as well.

7. Have they committed a crime before? Which one(s)?

She has, not many, but still more than she would like to admit and most of them were done during her infiltration of the Thalmor Embassy. Theft, trespassing, and probably murder because she killed Rulindil(?), Gissur and a couple guards.

20. Who’s their go-to person for advice?

Her father. She’s close to the rest of her family too but she doesn’t always feel they’ll understand, but her father is more understanding and gentle with her than her mother or brother. Unfortunately when she leaves home she doesn’t really have that anymore. She can still write him, but that’s not always feasible. At that point her go-to person for advice is her sister, Irene.  

33. What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had?

That’s a tie between the ice spike injury and the many injuries she had after the fight with Alduin. As far as single injuries go though the ice spike was the worst. She got hit with one that hit across her abdomen. It was really bad, she was just lucky they weren’t terribly far from home and her brothers wife is a healer. It put her out of commission for a while though and the area is still sensitive.

Cecilia:

2. What’s their biggest regret?

Joining the Imperial Legion. Looking back she doesn’t even know why she did it. She gets out of it because of a shoulder injury in Windhelm but she regrets going in to begin with. She just looks back on it as six years wasted.

11. Who’s the most important person in their life?

For a long time she would have said her family. Vague, but she didn’t have one person she considered more important than the others. After she falls in love with Farkas though she would probably name him, and eventually their daughter.

21. What’s one secret of theirs that could potentially ruin a relationship they have?

Honestly? She doesn’t really have one. Boring probably, but none of the secrets she has are potentially relationship ruining.

40. What do other people find annoying about them, if anything?

If you’re around her long enough and figures out what buttons to push to irritate you, she probably will do so Vilkas and Aela seem to be at the brunt of this currently. She will stop eventually, but in the mean time it is very irritating to whoever is on the end of it.

[madam-whim]

First Seed and Last Seed for OC or OCs of your choice?

Thank you for asking! <3 Gonna go with my Dragonborn baby Rienn for this one!

First Seed - Does your OC have any enemies or rivals? How did these rivalries start?

Rienn tries to make as few enemies as possible, which isn't always easy in her position. That being said, other than Alduin, her worst enemies are the Thalmor. She didn't even do anything to piss them off other than the chaos she caused at Elenwen's party - Rienn doesn't even actively worship Talos. She just assumes that the Thalmor see her as a threat, given she's another human Dragonborn.

There are, however, two people she cannot be in the same room with without it causing issues. The first would be Jarl Siddgeir. He's just a slimy bastard who's realized that the Dragonborn is technically the rightful heir to the Imperial throne, and he'd certainly like to get close to her (ideally, he wants to marry her). Rienn is... not amused.

The second person she's got issues with is Ralof - he's her ex. Turns out that while he is a loyal friend, he's not a good partner for someone who wants to keep her identity a secret if at all possible. He nearly disclosed her identity to all of Windhelm, and after that, things ended badly.

Last Seed - What weapon does your OC use? Who taught them how to use it?

Rienn knew precisely nothing about weapons or fighting when she first came to Skyrim. She technically owned a dagger, but she would not have known how to really stab anyone. After Helgen, she ended up with the Companions, and since Kodlak saw something in her, she wound up staying with them for a while. Her idea was to help out Tilma and eventually take over when she got too old to work, but Kodlak insisted on her being trained as well.

Rienn is doesn't have a lot of natural talent when it comes to hitting people, but she's determined and patient and was able to become a fairly competent fighter.

She uses a sword and shield and was mostly taught by Farkas and Kodlak, practicing with Ria here and there.

As for the dagger, she still has that, and Vilkas did end up teaching her how to use that in case she ever lost her primary weapon. That was before she found out she was Dragonborn, of course, and being Dragonborn means you are literally never unarmed. But Rienn still prefers having that dagger.

[blossom-adventures]

For your characyer development questions, answer 1 to 10, you can skip any questions you did in the past! ✨

Ahhh! All 10! Alright I’ll do that, thank you for the asks 💙

1. Does your character have siblings? Which one are they closest with? She has a twin brother, 4 younger sisters and an older adopted brother. When they were growing up she was closest to her twin, but he went on his own journey to Solstheim when she went to the College of Winterhold, I’d say she’s currently closest to her adopted brother although she’d probably never say she had a favourite, she loves them all dearly

2. What is/was your characters relationship with their mother like? Jaina is very close to her mother, although she finds it hard to find time to visit as much as she’d like, she sends her frequent letters to let her know she’s alright though. Her mother taught her how to cook, among other things (I also have in mind that her mother gives her advice later in the story… about a certain someone 😉)

3. What is/was your characters relationship with their father like? She never knew her biological father, but her mother remarried when she and her brother were 3, her stepfather adores her and her brother, as if they were his own and Jaina has always loved having him there for her when she needed him

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so does anyone else know? When she refused the Beast Blood to join the Companions inner Circle, one of them turned on her, letting his anger get the better of him and becoming “feral” the fear that that could happen to her has made her very careful about loosing her temper. Farkas and Vilkas know a little about what happened, but the person she confided in the most was Skjor

5. I have answered this one here

6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams? Her dreams consist mainly of moments in her life that she thinks about a lot, most of which feature a certain someone who has sapphire blue eyes

7. You can find this answer here

8. Has your character ever fired a bow? If so, what was their first target? She used to go hunting in her teens with her stepfather, since he couldn’t fire a bow himself (loosing an arm in the Great War) she was never a great shot though, but she did hit a deer once while out on a hunt

9. I’ve also answered this one here

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing or less? She would wear what is functional for the situation, whether it’s thicker clothing in the northern areas of Skyrim or thicker armour in battle to what she’d normally wear

[dovahkinniez]

Remember to not be a silent reader, like and share your thoughts! I love hearing everyone's feedback. <3

FARKAS BF HEADCANONS!

— bf farkas. <3

bf farkas is a whole different person to who he is in everyone else’s eyes. let me explain why…

‘ice brain’ is exceptionally good at reading your emotions, one hint of an offish mood and he’s frowning trying to understand what’s wrong and if he finds out without asking you what’s wrong, he’s pretty good at helping you out.

he focuses a lot on things you like, he usually forgets stuff pretty easily but sometimes he’ll randomly remember you like this certain food or this flower and then soon after he will surprise you with it, just to show he remembers and cares.

great hugger. the best. big strong arms, amazing chest and they’re like the best pillow’s skyrim can offer you. a hard day? cuddles. a good day? cuddles. rainy days? extra cuddles. sunny days? sweaty cuddles.

he likes to pretend it’s you who is the cuddle bug but no, it’s him. he’s a furnace with a pulse so summer times you’re usually trying not to die in the heat between his arms but he doesn’t care. man needs his daily dose of cuddles.

his love language is both quality time and physical touch, since he isn’t too good with his words and expressing verbally he likes to express his love in those ways instead which is evident, physical touch more so when you’re both alone.

he’s likes it when you smell like him, wolfy thing? perhaps. but it makes him feel like people will also know you smell of him which means they’ll leave you alone - because obviously all of skyrim wants you, the big mighty dragonborn, so our beefy wolf likes to ward off the potential threats by letting his scent onto you.

after hard days this boy just wants some TLC. care for him, hum out his childhood lullaby and he’s off to sleep with a wink.

i just hope you’re comfortable because once he’s asleep he moves less than lydia when she’s in front of a door you’re trying to walk into.

he likes to kiss your nose. it’s a little thing he’s always done and will do. when you wake up he does it, before bed, when one of you leaves to work, before you eat. he always does it. and it sets you into a spiral each time because he’s so sweet.

farkas doesn’t understand his strength but with you he does and instead of treating you like an fully able adult he treats you like a porcelain doll - especially near the start of the relationship - gentle hugs, lightly holds your hand, soft kisses. he’s so gentle and it makes you laugh a little because you didn’t think he had that in him.

he has random mood drops. he can go weeks happy one day his entire mood will drop and he becomes this gloomy cloud and if he wasn’t clingy before he definitely is now. sometimes it happens when he’s with his thoughts too much, i see him as a self conscious man when it comes to his smarts and abilities.

vilkas was always the responsible smart one, farkas pinned as the stupid brute so from time to time this will weigh heavy on his conscience. tell him he’s smart, give him the love and reassurance he deserves. </3

he can sing. i don’t care who argues with me. his humming is enough to send you to sleep and when he sings it’s deep and soothing, he doesn’t do it purposely. when he’s doing his own thing he will naturally sing out a small song and each time it shocks you by how he’s good - don’t tell him though, he won’t sing again (until he forgets and does randomly hum or sing).

he’s also a lightweight. too much alcohol to him is the starters for the other companions.

he goes red in the face, mumbles random stuff and either tries to fight someone or tells them how much they mean to him - depends who they are and exactly how much he’s drank. he passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow though.

farkas is the sweetest partner ever and i will die believing that. there’s a juxtaposition between who he is to others and then to you and you love it because you get special attention while with the others its like ‘whatever, i’ll deal with them later. i’m with you right now.’

[dumpsterhipster]

The Trash Dweller's Dumpster Dives: 2

[1] [3] [4] [5] [6]

Far From Ourselves - by Babble / @expended-sleeper

fandom || Skyrim rating || M categories || gen, f/f, m/m genre || drama, action/adventure characters of note || Miraak, Sofie, Vilkas, Lucia status || 25/37, 116k

I guess I care about the Companions now.

"Finish it," Sofie ordered, glancing at Miraak and his opponent. The remaining bandit dropped his spear and cradled his injured arm. The potential of his next move rendered Miraak lightheaded. With a swift motion, he could end this Argonian's life. He had not known such a power in many years. But where is the honor that Aela, Vilkas, and Farkas spoke of with such reverence? Certainly he did not see it in his reddened spearhead or the dripping edge of Sofie's axe. Nor did he feel a twinge of honor when he looked down at the cowering bandit bleeding on to the dirt. Sofie took a step closer. "Now, Miraak." "But-" The bandit's hidden dagger slashed and Miraak reacted. While the dagger found no purchase when it hit the leather pad covering Miraak's leg, the spearhead made its home in the Argonian's chest. Miraak stared in disbelief at the living organism that had swallowed the end of his weapon The bandit took a final bubbling breath and went slack against the weight of the spear.

A decade after Alduin's defeat, in a Skyrim still scarred by the barely-repelled Thalmor invasion, Whiterun is about to play host to a new power--one which will test the Companions to their limits, and shine a light on what has always been kept in the darkness. Among those swept up in the conflict are a broken former-Dragonborn looking to regain lost power; a whelp struggling with her inner nature and the young priestess she loves, whose paths seem set in opposition; and the Harbinger of the Companions, who must protect his home and family against this dire new threat.

I'll be honest, it's going to be difficult for me to be coherent about this fic. It's an absolute standout among the current crop of WIPs; a unique, gripping premise executed flawlessly, with a cast of characters who could walk off the page, no matter how small their roles, and the richest and most thought-provoking exploration of theme I've read in a fic possibly ever. Babble's writing is unbelievable in every sense, and this is a fic which deserves so much more attention than it gets.

I'll confess that my usual fic interests don't tend to lead towards the Companions: while there are many very well-written fics set surrounding the guild, they usually tend to focus on the romance between one of the wolf twins and the LDB rather than the rich narrative and thematic potential of the Companions themselves. Absolutely no shade to the many, many people who enjoy those fics, but they've typically fallen less within my wheelhouse.

Far From Ourselves is the Companions fic I've always wanted to read. There are some romance elements--and both the relationships between Miraak/Vilkas and Sofie/Lucia are brilliantly executed and very believable--but they are in the background, with the main subject matter of the fic really being theme. The story asks very meaty, thought-provoking questions about violence and honour and right and wrong and good and evil and all the many shades in between in a way which blows my mind with every chapter update, and inspires me constantly in my own writing. Of particular note is the way Babble asks questions, and examines them from every angle, but so far has yet to provide many answers. The reader is left to turn the problems over in their own mind, to think about the various beliefs and attitudes the characters have, and to arrive at their own conclusions (or not, as the case may be--they're VERY complex questions). It's incredibly well done, and leads to a plot and set of character relationship arcs which feel particularly coherent and meaningful.

This leads me into a discussion of how Babble approaches character. As you can probably assume from how they manage theme, the characters themselves all feel like real, living people with their own complex beliefs and values, rather than author mouthpieces/counter-mouthpieces. Babble is a true master of character writing. I was impressed by the sensitivity and nuance with which they wrote characters in Death of the Dragonborn (which I would also heartily recommend), which is particularly notable given that fic was written between the ages of 16 and 18. In the handful of years since that early promise has ripened and matured to the point where every character Babble takes a brush to comes alive within a few sentences; even the minor characters in Far From Ourselves are incredibly dynamic and three-dimensional. Special mention goes to Babble's sprinkling of OCs, including the wonderful additions to the whelps of Benajah and Hugs-the-Shadows, the Alfiq storekeeper Kishla, and Ruth, about whom I will say nothing other than that it's worth reading this fic for Ruth alone.

And then there's the main cast. Once again Miraak is not usually in my wheelhouse, but Babble paints such an incredibly complex, multi-faceted interpretation of a post-defeat Miraak that I was sucked in from the first harrowing paragraph, and have not been released since. I have never read a character like this Miraak in a Skyrim fic, and am awed at how consistently Babble portrays a mind so alien yet human. Babble's Vilkas is brilliant: he truly feels like the whip-smart, capable and thoughtful man we're given a glimpse of in canon, and a worthy Harbinger to succeed Kodlak. Grown-up Lucia as a priestess of Kynareth is both a delight and very fitting, but oh my god, for me the true standout of this fic's main cast is Sofie. I don't want to give anything away, but this is Sofie is probably one of my favourite canon character portrayals in a Skyrim fic, ever. Babble has done so much more with her potential than I ever could have imagined, and she is a true masterclass in just how much scope there is for both breadth and depth in turning the sketches we get in canon into fully rich and realised characters.

This review is already very long but it's worth noting that the plot is also incredibly fresh and gripping, with a really complex and nuanced 'villain' faction; Whiterun itself is beautifully rendered, as are those parts of broader Skyrim we have the privilege of being shown; and Babble's technical skills are excellent, with marvellous prose and dialogue both. I cannot recommend this fic highly enough--if you have any interest in the Companions, or in just really, really well-written and original, thought-provoking fantasy fiction, you owe it to yourself to check this out.

[rakimaiirisa]

Saw @thepirateandtheshieldmaiden do this and I wanted to do it too!Anyway, this was fun to do and while I wont tag anyone to do this, feel free to tag me so I can see!!

25 facts About Me

I go by Rina and/or Raki on here.

2. I am a constant poster and reblogger for the wolf twins and Danse on here. I'm obsessed with them 😅❤

3. fictional characters have kept me going and Danse and the twins literally saved me during a period of time that I struggled to find the reason to stay.

4. Ive been playing skyrim for 3 years now and still have not have been bored of it. Ive tried to get into other games but I end up missing skyrim and go back.

5. I have a hard time making friends in RL so my internet friends mean alot to me. I love to make new friends on here ❤

6. I try to stay out of fandom drama especially in the tesblr community. I've blocked most of the tesblr drama queens and am just looking to enjoy my friends and their ocs and post about mine and the twins on here.

7. Arisa and Asbjorn mean everything to me and I love to share stuff about them when the mood hits :)

8. I'm anxious as fk in rl so tumblr is my escape when im not lost in skyrim.

9. I like to write tho lately I haven't gotten the urge. I still consider myself a writer, even if its not the best.

10. I own a cute german shephard pup named Vegas. Fun fact about her is that I named her after fallout new vegas 😂

11. I'm into different sorts of music and will often listen to the same songs for hours as I play my game.

12. I have several side blogs as Ive jumped from blog to blog due to my anxiety. Rakimaiirisa is my last one tho and one I keep active.

13. 2 of my Farkas photos was featured on Divent Arts pininterest! I thought that was pretty neat tbh.

14. I'm 5'5 in rl and that's how tall I head-cannon Arisa. Vilkas in my head-cannon is 6'1 . She loves her tall nord❤

15. I'm shy so I often dont reach out first to talk to people on here but I do love to interact when people reach out to me.

16. I speed read so i sometimes miss the point of asks I get. I will try to do better at slowing down tho.

17. I'm mostly a night person so alot of times I tend to post late. I dont sleep too well tbh.

18. I love fall weather and Halloween! Cant wait for spooky time 🎃

19. Ive been on tumblr for 7 years now :)

20. I love clothes but I dont dress up. Arisa, on the other hand, I will dress up to the nines because I love the pretty clothes modderes have made.

21. I like to people watch ingame. I dunno, I am fascinated by the vanilla Ai and additional aI mods that are out there. I am currently using AI overhaul sse.

22. I find certain game voices soothing. For me, Vilkas's voice is comforting as hell. Especially when he is romanced ❤ Farkas, Asbjorn and Danse are comforting as well and I always look forward to hearing them.

23. I love skyrim and fallout art. Wish I could draw but for now Im satisfied with commissioning art of the twins and my ocs.

24. Love to listen to romance songs and think of my otps ❤

25. I can be obsessive about things (skyrim, the wolf twins, danse, my ocs, ) at times 😅

[crying-over-spilled-feels]

Double Trouble

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the canon characters; they belong to Bethesda Studios. Based on the drabble prompt: “Who gave you that black eye?”GIF taken off Google belongs to Sephirona. 

Word Count: 200

 ----------  

Farkas quietly tries to sneak back into Jorrvaskr, keeping his head down so as not to draw too much attention to himself.

“Who gave you that black eye?” a loud voice calls from across the training yard before Farkas can slip inside.

Great. He had been caught.

“Vilkas,” the youngest member of Jorrvaskr quietly explains to Jergen, the only father the twins had known.

“And I bet you must’ve done something to deserve it, huh?” Jergen inquires, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at his son.

“Yes.”

“Well, ya gonna tell me what you did to your brother to make him hit you?”

“I greased the hilt of his training sword this morning while he was asleep, so when he went to practice with Kodlak, it fell on his foot,” Farkas admits before beginning to laugh loudly. “You should’ve seen his face when it happened! He was so mad!”

Jergen simply sighs, looking over at Skjor, but all he gets is a teasing laugh from him.

“You pups are gonna be the death of me. You know that? Not only do I now have to lecture you, but I also have to lecture Vilkas about controlling his temper!”

 -------------

Author’s Note: I have added yet another Skyrim short story to my ranks because I apparently am still not over this game! I just love the characters so much, and I own several versions of the game now including both the Xbox 360 and PC versions. Farkas and Vilkas have always been my favorite NPCs, so they star in many of my drabbles, short stories, and plans I have for longer works/series as well. I used to write under the pen name of “Outsiders Obsessor” on FanFiction.net, so I will be posting those works here as well. Thank you all for your support and I hope you have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night! Until next time, everyone!

[thequeenofthewinter]

Taarie and Endarie’s Skyrim Fashion Corner

Hello folks, I was brainstorming with the lovely @theartofimaginaryfriends last night, and a brilliant idea for a few new segment hit me over the head like Farkas with a warhammer. I hope you enjoy the crazy brainchild of that chaos.

Dahlia (OC Dragonborn and our host): “Hello everyone, and welcome to our fashion corner with our lovely judges, Taarie and Endarie.”

Taerie: *silently judging Dahlia’s choice of attire, which is of course, Stormcloak armor*

Endarie: “Don’t you think you should wear something with a little more sparkle for this? A little color and pizzaz wouldn’t kill you, dear.”

Dahlia: *annoyed look* *clears throat* “As I was saying, these two lovely ladies will be taking a look at the attire of some of the most fashionable and fashion-challenged NPCs which Skyrim has to offer and giving them a score. The winner will receive a 10% coupon to their store, Radiant Raiment.

Taarie: “We never agreed to that. We said 1%.”

Dahlia: “It will be 10%, or I’ll cut your segment entirely. You're getting free publicity” *eyes the pair daring them to challenge her* “Let’s bring out the first contestant!” *waves hand towards imaginary curtain*

*Galmar Stone-Fist walks out*

Galmar: “What in Oblivion am I doing here?” *looks of confusion* “Dahlia, what is this?” *Dahlia pointedly ignores him*

Taarie: “Turn around, grandpa.”

Galmar: “Grandpa? Who are you calling grandpa?” *turns around anyway*

Endarie: *frowns disapprovingly*

Taarie & Endarie: “-1”

Galmar: “-1?! What do you mean, -1?”

Endarie: “All decisions are final. -1. NEXT!”

*Rolff Stone-Fist walks out, pushing Galmar to the side*

Taarie: *examining fingernails clearly bored* “Turn.”

*Rolff turns*

Taarie & Endarie: “0”

Galmar: *vein pops out of his head* “0!? How could that no good, lazy lout get a higher score than I do? He’s wearing RAGS for Talos’ sake!”

Endarie: “It’s the hideous bear helm. Perhaps without it, you would have scored higher. Taxidermy is so last era.”

Rolff: “You see that, brother? I was always the more fashionable one in the family. For once, these pointy ears know what they’re talking about.”

Taarie & Endarie: …

Taarie & Endarie: *looks of indignation* *whispers*

Taarie: “We change our minds. -100 to the gentleman in rags. Taxidermy is in now.”

Rolff: “I thought all decisions were final!?”

Endarie: “Did you not hear my sister? We have changed our minds, and our decision is now final.”

Rolff: “This thing is rigged!” *turns to Galmar, pointing a finger* “You’re about as fashionable as a dead skeever!”

Galmar: “What did you say to me, milk-drinker? I’ll punch your lights out so hard you’ll think you’re in the Void…but not even Sithis would want you, so he’d send you back!”

Rolff: “You come here closer and say that again!” *punches Galmar*

*fighting between Rolff and Galmar ensues*

*Dahlia is forced to pull them apart*

Dahlia: “…er, well, that’s all the time for our new segment. We’ll see you next week for Elisif the Fair vs. Ulfric Stormcloak!”