#farkas is close behind her

[decidentia]

Hey gang. ♡ Just a quick note to say I’m gearing up to come back. Things are hectic at work, and I’m on duty all this weekend, but I’m taking leave next week so I should be here a good bit.

[argisthebulwark]

Severed Ties Part Two: Why You Came Back

summary: Time heals all wounds and somehow, you will find your way back to each other. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. Part One: Why You Left feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Erandur, Teldryn, Vilkas, Farkas, Rune, Arnbjorn warnings: none, bit longer than usual.

Between all your duties and missing Brynjolf, it took time to find a comfortable rhythm. There was no escaping each other even after you put an end to your romantic involvement, only breaks coming in the form of jobs halfway across Skyrim. Through everything you worked together to get the Guild back on its feet. You entrusted Brynjolf solely with its care when Nocturnal came calling, reminding you that the Skeleton Key’s rightful place was in her temple.  The Twilight Sepulcher drained your body and soul. Exhaustion sapped at your strength when you shuffled out, unsure how you were going to get back to the inn. Riften was another beast entirely. Chilly fingers shook at the prospect of your bed being so far away, ready to risk it all for a short nap in the forest.  Brynjolf was planted a few paces away, hood thrown back and worry in his eyes. Your heart stopped at the sight. You’d never seen him so far from Riften. He took one cautious step as if you were a wounded animal, like you'd bolt if he came too close.  Collapsing into his arms felt like home. Strong arms carried you when your muscles failed, tears springing into your eyes when he tucked you safely into his chest. You gulped back the words you hadn’t said in ages when he buried his nose in his hair, turning to carry you home. He'd left all duties behind to be there for you when you needed him most. “I promise, love. Nothing’s gettin’ in the way of you and I again. Sorry it took me so long.”

Tales of Miraak’s reign of terror over Solstheim slowed, the island calming and hesitantly returning to its normal life. It had been years since you’d left Apocrypha and you could only hope that he’d found the answers he’d wanted so badly or at least some form of peace. The last memory of him still pained you but you’d never forget it - robes wrinkled where he crouched over the ancient desk, eyes wild and fingers stained with dark ink.  Being back on Nirn was a blessing and a curse. You had settled quite easily into your life but there was a constant nagging need to hear every rumor about him, to keep up to date on what he was doing. Your home was comfortable but quiet, interrupted by a harsh knock on your door.  Seeing him again stopped your heart. His eyes were wide, blessedly free from the mania you’d come to know. The mask and gloves were gone, robes traded for simple armor. There he stood, the man who had forgotten you suddenly standing on your doorstep, that lovely voice saying words you’d craved to hear.  “I gave it all up. I gave up everything to stand here and ask you for another chance and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, My Dragon.” 

You didn’t recognize him in such normal, simple clothes. Erandur, who lived in robes befitting a priest and Mara’s regalia, took the empty seat across from you in the tavern. His fingers quivered when he offered you a hand, hope bright in his eyes when he introduced himself.  “I had to come over here, I couldn’t stop staring. You’re stunning.” His attempt to sound nonchalant sent a nervous giggle bubbling out of you. “Can we put the past behind us and start over?” “Start over?” You didn’t release his hand and he didn't pull away, heart swelling when you saw his smile. All else was forgotten when you felt Erandur’s tattooed fingers climbing up your wrist.  “I am just a man who very badly wants to kiss someone he saw across the crowded tavern. Nothing more.” 

A compromise. That’s what he’d proposed. Teldryn sat at your table, eyes sparkling when he took in the house you’d built. It was far from the bustling cities, trees insulating you from the noise of nearby farms. After parting from Teldryn it had become a safe haven from the rest of the world. You’d never admit that building it with your own hands was fueled mostly by spite.  He’d come with apologies and offers mingled together in a practiced speech. Some time at home, some on the road, all of it spent together. It was unsettling how easily you trusted him again after all the time spent apart. His helmet rested on the table when Teldryn met your eyes and for the first time he looked unsure of what to say. His mouth opened, closing again and you caught a glimpse of that annoyed furrow between his brows you’d missed. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to settle down in one place, but I could get used to this slow life with you. For a while.”

Loving Vilkas was easy, you’d never truly stopped. Learning to be gentle with one another was difficult. You struggled to learn how to look past your relationship and see Vilkas as more than your partner, acknowledging his role in the Companions. He worked on seeing you as more than his Harbinger, viewing you as his partner once again. It was a slow process - taking breaks and setting boundaries, but he was worth it.  During the day you worked, creating healthier avenues for conversation. At night you were partners, nothing more. No work talk was allowed between dinner and breakfast. In those evenings you found one another again, softening and loving each other as you had so long ago.  “Remind me, Harbinger. Am I permitted to kiss you during working hours? Are we allowed to sit this close, or are you worried I’ll distract you?”

Breezehome had been yours before Farkas entered your life. It was your refuge during the evenings when you couldn’t bear Jorrvaskr’s halls or the memories they held. A cool breeze whipped through your hair when you walked home, masking his footsteps until he appeared at your side. Neither one of you said a word when he took your hand, falling in step with you and allowing you to guide him to your doorstep.  It didn’t happen all at once. Rather, it was small changes that slowly altered your life. It took work for Farkas to summon the confidence to live for himself, extracting his sense of self worth from the Companions. You reminded him that it was a balance, leaving wasn’t permanent. Dinners were often spent in Jorrvaskr before retreating to the peace of your home.  “I didn’t think I was anything more than a fighter. Didn’t think anyone would want me to be more.”

Each day felt like a new opportunity for growth. You watched Rune from a distance hoping that he would make peace with his past. You didn’t want him to give up but it was too painful to love someone who lived entirely in the mysteries of what could have been, as if you were only allowed to love part of him.  Luckily, Delvin and Vex had an endless catalogue of tasks that no one else wanted to complete. Jobs in other holds, jewelry to be stolen in Whiterun and planted on some poor sap in Solitude, the occasional trip to confer with the Dark Brotherhood. All the travel was good for your mind, allowing you time to think through everything far from him. Falling into your cot you stared up at the Cistern’s ceiling. Watery light from the early morning sun reminded you that you’d stayed up all night again. It had been difficult to sleep with Rune cramped into your tiny bed but without him the space felt too empty. His footsteps were silent when he knelt beside your bed, his warm hand on your shoulder the only warning that he was there.  “I’ll never give up, not entirely. But it isn’t worth losing you over. Just give me some time, please don’t forget about me.”

Arnbjorn consumed your every thought. Despite your best efforts to appear cool and indifferent you couldn’t take another moment. It was fairly easy to avoid him during the day, but every evening you struggled to not look at him through dinner. After all the others had left in search of bed or prepping for their assignment you found yourself alone with him, a few drinks deep and blood heating under the weight of his gaze. Too drunk to be embarrassed by the stumbling way you explained how badly you wanted to be loved by him again, how deeply you wanted him to love you. You didn’t want to be a replacement for the love he’d lost. Cheeks burning and tears spilling you gasped out the least graceful declaration of love and how much you missed him.  Your name on his lips had never sounded better. Soothing kisses and careful hands sufficed when words failed. You knew he wasn’t comfortable vocalizing softer emotions. Arnbjorn’s lips were on your forehead, fists balled into his armor when you dragged him closer.  “Just need you to trust me, okay? It’s only you. My past is my past, no changin’ it. I just need some time but I promise it’s only you.”

[deadlymousex01]

Skyrim Characters when you get hurt

Farkas, Brynjolf, Nazier, Aela, Arnbjorn, Lydia

You got hurt on a mission and there were no healing potions readily available (but let's face it if your actually playing skyrim you're usually stocked on those things, also for the sake of this story you don't have a healing spell). Sorry if this is a long one! Hope you enjoy! :)

Farkas

Farkas carefully wraps the bandage around your injuries making sure to not hurt you further. He's trying so hard to focus on helping you feel better but you can tell by the way his brow is scrunched he's more than a little annoyed you went so far into the barrow without him.

He got caught up dealing with some draugr and by the time he finished with them you were gone, so focused on your goal you didn't realize you'd left him behind until you were dealing with three draugr deathlords. You'd managed to keep them all at bay between shouts and your sword, even killing one of them, but they managed to get a few good hits in and if it wasn't for Farkas showing up you might have joined the dead. Once the two of you had finished them off your adrenaline had worn off and the decent cut down your back and side made it impossible to travel further, so instead Farkas got you both into a cleared out room and secured the door for the night so you could rest without risk of attack.

Now he was currently bandaging a cut along your arm and a wave of guilt washed over you. You had first been annoyed by his fussing, reminding him once again you were the dragonborn and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself but seeing his concern and worry made those feelings disappear quickly and be replaced by guilt. Once he finished with your arm he set to work building a small fire in the little pit in the room as you leaned back against the wall watching him.

"I'm sorry Farkas." You say softly. You know he's listening as his hands pause their movements even as he continues to face away from you. "I shouldn't have been so distracted and gotten so far ahead without you. We were warned this barrow was dangerous and I was reckless...I'll try to be more mindful about my surroundings in the future." You see his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh as the fire starts up. He moves to kneel in front of you, worry written all over his face, as he brings a large battle worn hand up to cup your cheek.

"I just want you to be careful, if anything happened to you..." He trailed off, but you knew what he wanted to say. Many think he's just a thickheaded brute but you knew better. Under that all that gruff was a intelligent and caring man. He sighed again looking you in the eyes. "I know you are a capable warrior, the dragonborn, and I don't want to belittle you but...please stay close to me until were out of the place."

You bring one hand up to gently hold his wrist and bring your other to cup his cheek like he's doing to yours with a smile. "I promise, and thank you for saving me, my big strong wolf." He returns your smile with a huff of a laugh before bringing his forehead forward to lightly rest against yours "You're welcome, my ferocious little dragon."

Brynjolf

"Of all the boneheaded, reckless, stupid stunts I've seen what you just pulled has got to be the stupidest one!" Brynjolf's angry whisper tickles your ear as he leans dow to talk to you. The plan was supposed to be simple; He would create a distraction downstairs in the basement of the estate to draw the guards down and then you would sneak in and rob them blind as the owner was supposed to be out for the night and his wife was not home. Well it didn't exactly work like you planned.

Brynjolf had to wait a little longer than expected to get into the estate as the owner was standing in front of the door he needed to get into talking with a guard. Deciding you didn't need a distraction you snuck into the building without him. It was going well in the beginning however you forgot to consider the owners mistress who was visiting her lover for the night. She had been sleeping in the bed and heard you sneaking around in the room over and came to investigate. You had been so busy trying to break into a safe you didn't hear her until it was to late and her dagger stabbed into your shoulder.

Luckily she had terrible aim and in the dark it was even worse so instead of stabbing into your shoulder it missed and ran the blade down the back of your shoulder and back. Your scream of pain and surprise, as well as turning around with your own dagger, caused her to scream in return and start drawing the guards upstairs. You managed to get out the window again and drop to the ground where Brynjolf was still hiding nearby. He knew what was going on the minute he heard the screams and saw the guards run into the house giving the two of you the chance to run.

You didn't get to go to far when the guards started running after you, so Brynjolf had pushed you into a small space between houses and pressed himself up against your back in order to fit himself. The wound on your back ached and burned but the feeling of your lovers body against yours helped distract you from it.

Once the guards had moved off elsewhere he slowly left the space before helping you out as well. Turning you around with his hands he lowered your collar to examine the cut.

"You're lucky your armor protected you from the worst of it, you'll need a couple stitches but you'll be fine." He turned you back to face him as he crossed his arms. "You could of been killed and it would of been because you were being stupid." You knew he was right but that didn't stop the annoyed feeling rising up at his tone.

"Oh like you've never made a bad call during a job."

"Oh plenty love," He said leaning down to be face to face with you with that signature smirk "But I'm clever enough to get away with it." You roll your eyes before turning to walk away. "You're a cocky bastard Bryn." He stops you but grabbing your arm and pushing you back until your trapped between the wall of the house and his body still smirking down at you.

"Aye love, that I am, and you can't resist it."

Nazier

You start to wake with a pounding in your head. As your open your eyes you realize you're back in the sanctuary, laying on one of the beds. You go to lift your arm but a sharp pain prevents you from doing so, instead you turn your head to see Nazier walking up to your bedside, a mug of water in his hand. He sits down in the chair next to your bed and helps you take a few drinks of water before setting it down on the end table and gently taking your uninjured hand.

"How are you feeling? We would of given you a potion but Gabriella said you needed to wake up first or it could do more damage than good." he explained gently running a hand through your hair, careful to avoid any hurt areas.

"I'm sore and hurting all over...how did I get here? Last thing I remember we were hunting down that rouge in the woods." Your head hurts as you try to recall memories that are escaping you. Nazier scooted his chair a little closer so he could lean against the bed.

"Turns out that rouge was a werewolf. The we hadn't any indication of that otherwise we would of been ready for him. You had managed to get close to him but he either smelled you or heard you because he changed quickly and hit you so hard you went flying back into a tree..." He trails off for a moment giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "For a minute after that I thought you were dead."

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice. It was so broken and hurt, like he was truly afraid he had lost you. Of course it could of been true, werewolves are hard to fight when your prepared for them let alone when you aren't. You squeeze his hand back encouraging him to continue.

"I managed to kill him and ran to check on you. You were hurt pretty bad, my healing spells are rusty but I managed to heal you enough to be able to move you and get you back here. Gabriella and Babette got you bandaged up and healed a bit more, but then it's just been waiting for you to wake up. You've been out for two days."

You gently bring your hand up to his cheek and give him a small smile unable to give him the comforting hug you want to. He leans into your touch before leaning down to place a soft kiss to your lips. You knew he must have been extremely worried if he's being so affectionate where the others could see. While the whole family knew the two of you were together, Nazier wasn't one to how it off much.

"Next time you go out I'm going to make extra sure we know everything about the next mark, I'm not going to let you go in blind again." You hum contently feeling safe with him nearby and as he leaves to get the healing potion you close your eyes knowing it will be a while before he lets you out of his sight again.

Aela

You limp toward Whiterun holding your side, the injury wasn't life threatening thankfully as you had been wearing your steel armor but like a idiot you hadn't remembered to bring a healing potion so now you had to endure the long walk back to Jorrvaskr. As you grew closer to the gates you could smell Aela's scent getting closer. Sure enough around the bend she came looking annoyed and worried at the same time.

"I could smell your blood from the gate, how badly are you injured? Why didn't you bring any healing potions?" She asks coming up next to you and lifting your arm to allow her to inspect your injuries. You wince as she does so, the sudden movement pulling at the wound and causing you to flinch.

"I'm fine Aela...ow...I just forgot to get some before I left since I didn't want to lose the silver hands scent. I had the element of surprise and I wasn't going to waste the chance to get 'em." You pull your arm around of her grip and lower it to relieve the strain it was putting on your side. "I had them all nearly taken care of when one pulled a hidden dagger out on me. Just got me by surprise but I'm fine. My armor blocked most of it."

She gives you a firm glare before poking your side causing you to flinch and yell in pain. "You are clearly not fine. Now lets go, don't want you to bleed out in the street." She moves to your good side and drapes your arm around her shoulders so you can lean against her for support. She leads the way through the streets gaining you both a few curious looks before you make it back to the hall. Leading you inside and to your shared room she sits you on the bed and begins to help remove your armor to look at the damage. Even with a healing potion it would need stitched up so she sits on the bed next to you and begins sewing the skin shut giving you the potion to help with the process.

"While I'm all for knocking a few silver hand heads, I wish you would of told me you were leaving to do it. I would of given you back up and probably prevented this from happening." Her quick and nimble hands make easy work of the stitches before she starts wrapping bandages around your chest and waist. "We've already lost two important people to the Companions... and to me ...I really don't want to lose anyone else. So next time, clue me in on your plans so I can make sure you don't kill yourself by accident alright?"

You nod as she finishes with the bandages and helps you lay back on the bed before joining you herself. Snuggled up together you give her a small gentle kiss "I'm sorry for worrying you Aela, I promise to tell you when and where I'm going next time."

"Good, cause if you don't I may be the one stabbing you."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, love."

Arnbjorn

"Arnbjorn, calm down! I'm fine, really, look! See? I'm fine!" This was of course a lie; your left leg was cut up and bleeding, your right arm was just as bad, you were pretty sure your left wrist was broken, and you could be sure you had at least one black eye and a cut lip. In truth you looked like hell however Arnbjorn was one move away from shifting into his werewolf form in a rage and going out and unleashing hell on anyone and everyone, wether they were involved in the bandits that did this or not.

Arnbjorn's chest was heaving so badly from his heavy breathing and growling, and his eyes had almost gone full black in rage you wondered if he was even hearing you or was just lost fighting the beast inside. While you knew he would never hurt you, you didn't want him to hurt one of the family by accident or go on a rampage in Dawnstar and force all of you to move again. You slowly limp toward him, every movement of your leg sending shooting pain up it, until you were close enough to cup his face in your hands.

"Arnbjorn...please...breathe. I know you want to help and the best way for you to do that is calm down so you can help me. Please love, for me." The mission had gone badly. The target had been ready for you and managed to capture you. They had started to torture you in the hopes of finding the rest of your family but you managed to get away and kill your target before you left. Arnbjorn had smelled your blood the moment you walked into the sanctuary and when he saw you, the beast started taking over.

His breathing started to slow down as you held his face and his body began to slowly relax. You watched as his eyes slowly returned to color before he let out a long slow sigh closing his eyes before opening them again. Without a word he immediately scooped you up into his arms and carried you downstairs and into the master bedroom of the sanctuary. He sat on the bed with you in his lap, protectively holding you against his chest as if the bandits were going to show up to finish the job. Babette came in and bandaged your wounds giving you a healing potion for the pain. After she left she shut the door leaving the two of you alone.

Arnbjorn buried his head into your neck deeply breathing in your scent and letting out a low growl. "I will be going out and killing the rest of those bastards." This wasn't a surprise, you knew he would. After losing and being betrayed by Astrid it had taken him so long to be open to the idea of having a mate again and once he did he was even more paranoid; making sure he knew where you were traveling to, who you were talking to, what your plans were, that your weapons were sharp and in the best condition, that your armor was intact. He had loosened up and a lot of these but he had been so hurt by Astrid betrayal you knew this was just what he needed to do to allow himself to be open to you yet still protect himself and you.

He laid you carefully on the bed and then laid next to you allowing you to position yourself against him comfortably without hurting yourseld further. "I know you will, I know you'll always protect me when I need it." He grunted in response before burying his face in your neck again.

"You're not leaving this sanctuary again until your wounds are completely healed...and even then I might not let you." You huff a laugh starting to feel drowsy from everything that had happened the last two days.

"Yes, love."

Lydia

Lydia let out a grunt as she helps slide down the wall to sit on the ground outside of the cave the two of you had just explored. Neither of you had expected the cave to be full of vampires however once you discovered it was you had been determined not to leave until you had cleared it out as it was so close to Morthal.

The two of you had gotten most of them taken care of when a gargoyle popped out and surprised you both. Its claws got a good cut in across both your legs and while you had managed to kill it you were definitely not walking very well by the time you had made it back to the entrance, needing Lydia to help you limp your way out.

"Here my love, rest here while I see if I have a healing potion or bandages." She digs through her bag managing to find a small healing potion and a few rags to cut up for bandages. Offering you the potion she cuts the rags into strips before carefully bandaging your legs.

"You'll need to rest here for a day before you'll be strong enough to reach Morthal. That potion was enough to heal your legs so you don't bleed out but you need to build up some strength. Wait here, I'm going to grab some firewood before it gets dark." When you nod in response she leaves for several minutes before returning with some wood. She sets up the fire before lighting it and then moves toward you. She removes her leg armor and sets it aside to help you lay down with your head in her lap.

"Thank you Lydia, you really were my shield in there. I probably wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you." You smile up at her, legs feeling numb from the potion working its magic. She gives you a smile running her fingers through your hair as you close your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment.

"Of course, you're not just my thane, you're my love. I would do anything to protect you, even lay down my own life for yours." You bring a hand up to stroke her cheek and she takes it in hers giving it a soft kiss.

"Let's hope it never comes to that dear, after all, someone needs to go home to the kids."

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

WIP Wednesday! (insert meme: it's been 84 years...)

Hello! I think I've neglected these beautiful WIP tag games as of late, so I took the chance, after being tagged by the lovelies @bostoniangirl21 and @miraakulous-cloud-district (thank you both so much!🧡), to share a bit of CH20 of The Priest and the Dragoness (I'm seriously thinking of changing the title of my fic, so if someone wants to give me their opinion about this Cursed Thought™, I'll gladly take it!). Also, the beloved @miraakulous-cloud-district had the idea of making this WIP combo with a picrew of ocs! I'm so excited to share! 😍

Tonight, in that dream, she does not see the precious faces of her dear mother and father she always recognized even if she never knew them or touched them or kissed them in the waking world, nor does she hear the rough but heartwarming voice of her wise old wolf, Kodlak Whitemane.  She does not dream of Vilkas and Farkas’ affectionate fraternal teasing, the tender motherly sternness of Aela, nor does she blend her youthful voice with Whiterun’s liveliness during the New Life Festival, in its songs, dances, feasts, in Magnus’ slow return to Nirn. She sees neither the darkness, the shackles, the rot of Northwatch Keep, nor even senses Caranthir’s breath chilling the back of her neck.  Sometimes, Jia dreams of herself as a dragon. She falls to her weak, human knees, weeps and screams without voice, only to feel her spine crack lengthwise and then split in half like the shell of an egg, as the acrid stench of seething, ripped-out flesh engulfs her like a firestorm, dominates her from head to toe. And then, she sees her two blood-leaking wings spreading through her shadow, and she takes flight, and she brings debris and death.  But tonight, in that dream, she is not a fire-breathing, blood-raining wyrm. In that dream, she is a bird, a swallow, and behind her soft, feathery wings, she knows a delicate shaft of the warmest, most pristine sunlight dovetails with her close behind, creating technicolor colorings upon her lustrous plumage; and from beneath her small-boned body, she sows springs and summers, meadows and groves, all with a single wingstroke.  In that dream, she flies towards a colossal tree. Though suddenly her flight grows swift, erratic, hopeless, so much as one would wonder how a swallow’s flickering little heart can withstand this kind of fear and despair. For this tree that she hunts with time’s passing, is not for nesting and is barren of verdure or fruit in spite of the spring-bearer’s sight; this is an unearthly shade of dark, black wood, of twisting, writhing branches as if they are coming to life, haunted, rotten to the roots and even beyond those, like—  Like a hanged man’s tree. “Sleep,” Miraak tells her, when she startles awake, in a whisper drawn out of the loveliest lullaby, as though he is, too, tethered between reality and a dream, his caressing fingers blindly running up and down her back. “It was just a dream.” They are never just dreams, the words her brain pushes to speak aloud, but her eyes close again, and she’s plunging into a vision that she may not remember come morning.

Now for the lovely picrew!

OH but of course I would make not only Jia but her Miraak too, what do you mean... 😇

I'm tagging some people with the hope I'm not bothering them, so absolutely no pressure for this! Still, it'd be wonderful to see your creations, whichever they are! 🥰 @blossom-adventures, @sothas, @prettytamagnii, @illumiera, @kiir-do-faal-rahhe, @thequeenofthewinter, @ruskycreations

[hircines-hunter]

Snippet Sunday

Im just excited about everything Sifkni related so! Here. Something cute from the end of Farkas' Bday chapter.

Gonna tag the usual suspects @umbracirrus @madamefluffnstuff @vivifriend @rakaiawriter @thequeenofthewinter

@oblivions-dawn @bostoniangirl21 And anyone else who wants to participate. Feel free to tag me if you :'>

Sifkni followed her nose. She found Farkas in the training yard, resting against the wall. He had his hair pulled back with the leather cord she gifted him. She smiled. He turned his head before she walked up.

She leaned on the wall next to him. “I… I have to somehow find an Elder Scroll.”

He reached over and pulled her close. “Do you know where to look?”

Sifkni shook her head. “Kodlak suggested I go to the College….” She looked at him. “Will you come with me?” 

“Aye.” He kissed her head. “When do you want to leave?”

“Sometime next week. I want to be here with you a little longer. Your second present. It’s in the room. Whenever you are done here.”

“Technically, it’s the third.”

She blushed and laughed. “I’ll wait for you.” She walked away.

Farkas followed after her. “Vilkas can handle them. He’ll understand. I want to know what you got me. Especially since you had it commissioned?”

Sifkni grabbed his hand and pulled him through Jorrvaskr. “I only hope you like it. I like it a lot.”

“Well, if you like it, I’m sure I will.” He walked into the room after Sifkni. On the bar laid his present. He could tell by the shape under the cloth that it was a lute. He unwrapped the cloth and stared. The wood had been stained dark blue. It was hand painted with stylized wolves and juniper. Was that their initials carved into it? 

Farkas turned to face her. She sat on the bed and smiled at him. He walked over and picked her up, kissing her. He carried her to the bar and sat her down next to the lute. “This….” He traced the lute. “It's gorgeous.”

Sifkni hummed. She took her boots off and crossed her legs on the bar. She turned to face Farkas and the lute. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Farkas shook his head. “No. It’s worth the wait.” He picked it up and tuned it before playing a soft tune. “It plays as beautiful as it looks. Divines. What am I going to do with you now?”

Sifkni smiled. “I can think of things. But, I’m really glad you like it. I know your other lute plays wonderfully. But….”

“It’s old.” He laughed. He put his hand behind her neck and pulled her forward, kissing her. “Thank you. Next name day, I’ll get you something better.”

“I can’t wait.” She took his hair down and ran her fingers through his dark hair. “How much longer can I keep you?” She pulled him by his armor closer to her.

“As long as you want. Vilkas can handle it.”

[shivering-isles-cryptid]

Velkas: Velimir x Farkas

A Bosmer/Reachman that has to deal with Hircine constantly whispering in his ear comes across a Nord who is constantly fighting the wolf inside him.

When the elf first arrived, Farkas was more than impressed. He, Aela, and Ria had spent an hour with this one single giant, and yet when the elf arrived, it had fallen in 5 minutes. Aela had approached him as he pulled his spear from its chest, his eyes watching her closely, as if scanning for a threat. She offered him a place in the companions, but he just tilted his head in confusion. “What’s a shield-brother?” He had asked, Aela stepping back in bafflement. She had tried to explain, but he shook his head and jumped off the giant, walking away while saying he had other things to do.

Ria was baffled that someone wouldn’t know who the companions are, but both Farkas and Aela waved her off. When the trio returned to Jorvaskr, they were shocked to find the elf was already there, alongside a woman with snowy white hair and a Stormcloak sash across her silver armor, pinned into place by an owl pin. He raised a brow when he saw them, then hummed in understanding before turning back to Skjor. Even standing half a foot shorter than him, the pair gave off just as much, if not more, power and strength than Skjor did, which the man easily recognized and waved off Vilkas’ comments.

The pair followed Skjor into the quarters, with Aela close behind and Farkas behind her. He couldn’t understand it, but he just felt a pull towards the elf. His… other form wanted to be near him, wanted to be with him, wanted him. He stood outside the door as they talked to Kodlak, Aela and Farkas listening closely and staring at each other. “You feel the pull too.” Aela had said, it wasn’t a question, she knew he did. It was an innate feeling, as if his very soul was drawn towards the elf. When the doors swung open, the white-haired woman saw the pair listening in and scoffed before leaving. The elf though, he looked into both their eyes and nodded. Said it was nice to see them again. That he apologizes for his rude behavior earlier. The wolf inside of Farkas growled, urging him to take the man. But he held back, shaking his hand and nodding with a grunt. The elf stared into his eyes, lips pursed slightly before smirking. “Maybe next time.” He said, reaching up and brushing a hand against his shoulder as he left, leaving both Farkas and Aela in shock.

The next time he saw the elf was the 5th of Midyear, when all the beasts were out of control, and the circle locked themselves in the Underforge. Aela and Skjor had slipped out the back for their hunt, while Kodlak and Vilkas meditated in the corner. Farkas sat and watched, gripping his head tightly to try and soothe the beast within. When he felt two cool hands rest on his own, he looked up with a snarl, but it was lost in his throat when he stared into the amber eyes of the elf. “Shh, it’s alright. Don’t fight it, you’ll make it worse.” He said, brushing Farkas’ hair back with a kind smile. Something in the elf’s' eyes made Farkas relax, and the beast inside him to calm down. Even if he didn’t know his name, something about him was familiar, felt like home.

He sat with Farkas, holding one of his hands and massaging the knuckles while they watched Kodlak and Vilkas meditate. They talked, Farkas learned his name is Velimir, he’s from the Druadach mountains, his father was a Bosmer and his mother a Reachman, he has worshiped Hircine since he was a boy but never became a Lycanthrope himself. Farkas told him he was born in Rorikstead, but was kidnapped by necromancers, a Companion named Jergen save him and his brother, but he went to the Great War and never returned, how Farkas was the youngest in the Circle and only accepted the gift because of Vilkas. Velimir nodded, drawing circles in Farkas’ hand with his thumb as he spoke. They didn’t agree on their views of Hircine, but they did share the same view on Lycanthropy. It was fine for those who wanted it, but neither of them did.

They spoke in hushed voices and with soft smiles, Velimir’s hand never leaving Farkas’. When the sun rose the next day, if Farkas and Velimir were asleep in the Underforge, one of Farkas’ arms wrapped tightly around the elf’s waist while their legs were tangled together, that was no one’s business. At least not until Velimir left the next day and the other Circle members felt safe enough to start making fun of him.

It was another 4 months before Farkas saw him again. The moons were the color of blood, and the Circle was once again forced into the Underforge by their second natures. Farkas tried breathing, bringing back the memories of the Night of Hircine, but without Velimir there it was almost impossible to keep the beast under control. It fought against him, demanding the elf, and Farkas was on the verge of agreeing with it. When he finally gave in, leaving the Underforge and preparing to transform, the moon's color was lost and the beast settled. It was no longer pushing to break free of his body, but the urge to find him was still there. He wanted him, he needed him. He sniffed the air deeply, growling lowly as he forced himself back to the city. As he walked, he came across Velimir, who was twisting a silver band on his ring finger. The beast inside urged him toward the elf, and he complied, rushing towards him and smiling softly at his troubled face.

“Farkas?” His voice was quiet, his brows scrunched and lips pursed. Farkas’ smile melted and his beast roared in anger that anything would dare hurt him. Velimir rushed him, arms tight around his waist and face buried in his chest. That sense of power and dominance was gone from the elf, replaced entirely by the stench of fear and sorrow. Farkas held him, the touch keeping the beast restrained without calming it any. Velimir clung to Farkas, his fingers digging into his back through his thin tunic he typically wore to bed. He was shaking, but no tears came out. Farkas was torn between comforting the elf and finding whoever made him feel like this. The small whimper that Velimir made made Farkas’ choice easier, and he carried the elf back to Jorvaskr, glaring harshly at anyone who dared to gawk at his elf. When he brought him into Jorvaskr, the entire Circle flooded to them, the scent of the elf drawing them in. Kodlak and Skjor weren’t affected the same way the other were, made clear when Vilkas and Aela growled at the other Companions for even looking at him.

Farkas let him sleep in his bed, intent on sleeping in a chair before Velimir grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to the bed with more force than he should’ve been capable of. Farkas tried to pull back despite his beasts demands, but Velimir wouldn’t let go and Farkas didn’t want to distress him anymore than he was. He hugged the elf close, resting his chin on the top of his head and reveling in the smell. Velimir seemed to burrow even further in his arms, which kept Farkas far more awake than his beast ever has. In the morning, Velimir woke at the exact moment the sun began to peek through the wooden boards, the little amounts of light that peeked through hitting his eyes and turning them golden. His voice was low and raspy, filled with exhaustion and the pure domestication of it made Farkas’ chest squeeze.

“Farkas? This has to be a dream.” He mumbled, resting his head on Farkas’ chest and holding him closer. “Why would this be a dream?” He asked, rubbing circles into his back and looking down at him as best as he could. “Because it has been for months now.” He answered, his voice showing he was about to fall back to sleep, before he reeled back and stared at Farkas with wide eyes. He scrambles out of bed, rambling apologies and excuses as he rushes to gather his stuff that Farkas has placed on a table. Farkas tried to calm him down, but Velimir just shook his head, which was uncharacteristically warm, as he moved towards the door. Just before he could open it, Farkas placed a hand on the door, keeping both it and Velimir in place.

Farkas looked down at the elf, the power back in his eyes, but he still recoiled under his gaze. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his other hand grabbing Velimir’s chin and bringing his head up to look at him. That’s when he broke down and explained what had happened during the Blood Moons. How Hircine told him to kill a werewolf that stole from him. How he had agreed, desperate to please his patron. How when he got to Bloated Man’s Grotto and saw the werewolf that didn’t want to be, all he could see was Farkas. How he refused to kill him and instead killed the hunters. How he was called a traitor and a disgrace by them, but how Hircine blessed him for his actions. His body once again was shaking without tears as Farkas held him tight, rubbing circles into his back.

Velimir had finished his story, once again turning the silver ring on his finger, the wolf head frozen in a permanent snarl. Farkas reached out, holding one of his hands and rubbing circles into it with his thumb the way Velimir had done for him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Farkas holding Velimir’s hand as he stared at him. “You know, I kinda liked it when you pinned me against the door.” He finally said, Farkas freezing in place as his face heated up. Velimir scooted closer, the hand that once was in Farkas’ was now sliding up his arm. The beast in Farkas told him to take him. Make him his, mark him as his own. But he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right, not while he was so distressed. Farkas pulled back, frowning at Velimir, who pursed his lips and looked away. Farkas slowly raised his hand to Velimir’s chin, turning him to look him in the eyes.

“You’re beautiful. But as much as I want to, I can’t. You’re not feeling right and I can’t be the distraction you want me to be.” He explained, Velimir nodding and resting his head on his shoulder. Instead, they talked. Velimir told him about Skuld, the white-haired woman, who was apparently Dragonborn and a seer of Jhunal. She was one of the first people he had met in Skyrim, and she threatened to put an arrow in his throat because he had stumbled upon the Stormcloak camp she was at. Farkas started to tell him about Vilkas, how he was always the smarter one, more charismatic. Velimir told him to shut up. Farkas instead told him about Jergen, the man who raised him, how he taught him how to wield a sword, how to wear heavy armor, how to use his natural strength. Velimir told him about his tribe, the apothecaries that taught him to make potions and poultices, the warriors that taught him to use a spear and bow, the shamans that summoned Hircine on his 16th year.

Farkas told him about the beast inside him, constantly fight to get out. Velimir told him about how Hircine is constantly whispering in his ear, telling him that everyone else is merely a rabbit and he is a wolf. Farkas told him that he was the only thing that has ever made the beast easier to deal with. Velimir told him that he was the only one that Hircine didn’t tell him to hunt down. Neither of them knew how long they had been talking, but by the time Velimir noticed they hadn’t gotten out of bed yet, the sunlight was already gone and Jorvaskr was silent. Farkas invited him to stay the night again, he could sleep in a chair or in a spare bed, but Velimir refused to kick him out of the bed. “There’s enough room for both of us.” He had said sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear as he casually fluffed a pillow. Farkas said nothing, merely picked Velimir off the bed, moved him to the inner side, climbed in himself, and held him tightly in his arms.

It was only a week after that before Farkas saw him again. This time he was with Skuld, the Dragonborn, who was now wearing a bear shaped hood attached to her armor, the owl pin still holding the cloak in place. They split apart at the Gildergleam, Skuld heading to the Temple of Kynareth, while Velimir approached Farkas, who was outside with his brother. When he got to them, Velimir said nothing, just grabbed Farkas’ armor and pulled him down into a kiss. When they pulled back, his brother hugged out a “Finally” before heading into Jorvaskr to let them talk. Velimir told Farkas he was staying in Whiterun for the next 2 months. Skuld had some political meeting she needed to attend with Balgruuf, and as Ulfric’s lead diplomat in the Imperial cities, Velimir was to stay in Whiterun with an Imperial diplomat to try and keep the city neutral until the meeting was over.

Skuld was giving him a key to her house, giving him free reign until she returned. Velimir told Farkas where it was, and what times he’d be there, and what times he’d be awake. He offered to make him dinner tonight, show him a few recipes he’d learned when he lived with his tribe. Farkas instantly agreed, his hands firmly planted on Velimir’s hips. “Wonderful.” He said, kissing him again before reluctantly pulling away and meeting back with Skuld before heading up to Dragonsreach. Farkas spent the entire day thinking about Velimir and that night. How excited he was to see him again, how he wanted to kiss him again, how he wanted more, how he didn’t have anything to wear and how he didn’t deserve him, wasn’t good enough.

When the night finally came, Farkas walked to Breezehome in regular clothes, a tray of pastries in one hand, and a bouquet of purple mountain flowers and Kyne’s breath in the other. He used his foot to knock, wincing at the loud noise it made and having to take a breath to soothe the beast inside him and moved the bouquet to his other hand to hold his hand against his chest. When the door opened, he took in a sharp breath at the sight before him. Velimir was wearing a deep green tunic that was unlaced at the top, revealing a light dusting of brown hair on his chest. It was sleeveless and showed off his muscular arms, which had wrapping up to his elbow on which covered his knuckles. His hair was braided back, showing his pointed ears, and some small strands were falling into his eyes. Before he could stop himself, Farkas reached forward and brushed the hair behind his ear, causing both of them to blush fiercely.

Velimir invited him in to the house, taking the bouquet with wide eyes and a red face. “Purple flowers represent stamina and passion. Kyne’s breath represents fertility.” He whispered, placing the flowers in a vase, turning from Farkas’s own burning face. They sat next to each other for dinner, their hands brushing against each other every now and again. They spoke of their childhoods, the events of the week they had been apart, and plans for the next 2 months. When they had finished eating, Velimir grabbed the pastries Farkas had brought and uncovered them. He gasped softly, grabbing one of the small pies and examining them. “It took hours to convince Tilma to let me make something, and she was watching the entire time.” He said, Velimir laughing slightly, biting into and moaning loudly before catching himself. The two burst into laughter, Farkas trying one for himself. They had moved into the entryway, sitting closely together on the couch as they ate.

When they had finished the pastries, Velimir moved close to Farkas, a hand on his shoulder and put his mouth to his ear. “Skuld told me that if we did it in any room except for mine, she’d hang me off Dragonsreach. So I suggest we get moving.” He had whispered, Farkas growling lowly as Velimir’s other hand slid over his thigh. Farkas grabbed the elf, pulling him into his chest and carrying him up the stairs, Velimir’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist and his arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed. Farkas had dropped him on the bed, pinning him against it with an arm on each side of his head. “Take off that tunic. It looks so good on you I’d hate to rip it.”

[seigephoenix]

Kinktober 2024: Free Space

My second Halloween themed free space for Kinktober! A trip to Skyrim is in order for my favorite Dragonborn and werewolf. These two are a comfort ship of mine.

Ship: Aurelia Tullius/Farkas Content Warning: bath sex, fingering, p in v, mostly plot for this one with a little porn Length: 2.7k

13th of Frostfall

“It’s time for that ghastly tradition,” Skjor complained as he stared out the window as the city of Whiterun prepared for the festivities after dark.  The children already wore their carved or stitched masks resembling creatures of myth.  The Companions stayed inside during the holiday as most disliked the use of magic during the festival.  Vilkas leaned back in his chair as Roscar made his way up from the barracks.  He looked uneasy, which alarmed the inner circle.  Their Harbinger rarely had that look in his eyes.

“I received a report from the Thieves Guild over in Riften,” Roscar began and Skjor scoffed.  Roscar sent him a quieting glare and Aela put her hand on Skjor’s shoulder.  “There are reports out by the springs of the Pumpkin Spectre.  I would normally attribute this to a youth’s prank, but the Guildmaster assures me that this is serious.”

“And you trust this Guildmaster?” Skjor asked cautiously.  He was surprised when even Aela nodded.  “A thief?”

“We’ve come to an understanding with the guild.  Given who is associated with them.”  Skjor took only a second to think about it and he heaved a sigh.

“Of course.  The Dragonborn.”  Roscar nodded.

“She isn’t the Guildmaster, if that’s what you’re worried about.  Her only formal affiliation is the College of Winterhold, but that woman has more connections in Skyrim than I do.  And I’ve lived here my whole life.” Roscar chuckled as Aela grinned at Skjor.

“Wait, if Aurie is with the College then surely, they’d deal with the Pumpkin Spectre?” Aela asked.  Roscar nodded and crossed his arms.

“About that.”

Whiterun, Market District

A cold chill went down Aurelia’s spine and she whipped around to see what was behind her.  Nyx and Nazir looked back at her as she stared at the streets with a suspicious gaze.  “Aurie?”

“I thought I felt something watching me,” she replied before turning back to her friends and hurried to catch up to them.

“Is that your costume?” Nyx asked as Aurelia grinned and gave a small spin.  “I’ve never seen a dress like that.”

“It’s from Cyrodil.  It was the latest fashion when I left.  Apparently, my mother snuck it into my trunk that was delivered to the soldier’s barracks up in Solitude.  My uncle sent it to me and at least this way it gets some use.”  Nyx chuckled as Nazir rolled his eyes.  The dress could barely be called a dress.  The material appeared to be held together by the grace of the divine.  Silken scraps of fabric draped over Aurelia’s legs resembling the petals of a flower.  The top had a plunging neckline clasping to a brooch at her waist.  The back was just as sparse and Aurelia felt a little uneasy showing off her scars so much, but she had to get used to them eventually.  Aurelia put a mask on her face to resemble a spriggan and that was her costume.

“I can’t believe your mother did that,” Nyx said as they approached the stalls setting up in preparation for the evening.  She’d received the same missive from Sylvana and had made her way to Whiterun.  Nazir had to see it for himself.

“Why are you two in Whiterun anyway?” Aurelia asked after they finished carving their pumpkins.  She set a small light spell in hers and grinned at the flickering light.  Nyx set the candle in hers and Nazir set his aside as normal.

“We had a mission close by and Nyx wanted to see you.”  Aurelia grinned at Nyx who gave her the same warm smile in return.  Nyx wanted to protect Aurelia and so she would not be leaving her side that night at all.

After sunset

Aurelia wandered the streets as she saw the kids running along the edges of the pathways, screeching in laughter as they scared each other.  She gave them the treats she carried when they approached her.  They all paused as the lights flickered out with a strong breeze.  The children screeched in laughter and ran back to their parents, thinking it was all a grand game.  Aurelia did as well until she felt the cold prickle at the back of her neck.

“Aurie,” Nyx called out as they searched for her in the crowd.  “How could I lose sight of her!?” Nyx looked around worriedly as Nazir searched the crowd as well.  “Wait!  The Companions!”

“What do you mean?” Nazir asked.  “I know they are well acquainted with her.”  Nyx shook her head.

“I can’t say.  It’s part of the agreement I have with the Harbinger,” Nyx explained and while Nazir didn’t like it, he understood the secrecy.  The Companions kept their secrets and Nyx would keep theirs.  “But they can find her.  Keep looking please.”  Nazir agreed and watched as Nyx bolted towards Jorrvaskr.

She burst in causing all the warriors to jump to their feet.  Farkas was by her side first and helped her up.  “Farkas.  Shit.  I lost sight of Aurie in the marketplace!”  Roscar’s gut twisted at those words.  “I swear it was only a second but she was gone.  I can’t track her, but maybe you can?”

“If anyone can, it’ll be Farkas.” Aela assured Nyx as Farkas was already out the door.  “Let’s go and wait in the marketplace, maybe Aurie just wandered off.”

“Somehow I doubt it, but I’d like to think so.”  Nyx shook her head and she walked with Aela and Roscar back to where Nazir was.

“I haven’t been able to find her, but one of your people just rushed past me going that way.” Nazir pointed over his shoulder towards one of the side streets.

“I told you that Farkas would be able to find her.  Woe be to the Pumpkin Spectre,” Aela said with a laugh.

Side streets

“Hello?” Aurelia asked as she whipped around at the sound of the creepy laughter.  “If this is one of your pranks kiddos, it isn’t one of your better ones.”  Aurelia shivered at the icy breeze that surrounded her.  She turned at the sound of someone approaching and lashed out only to encounter warm flesh.  A familiar scent wrapped around her.  “Farkas!”

“You shouldn’t wander off.”  She puffed up at him and he ran a hand down the back of her head, checking for any injuries.  “Are you hurt?”

“Hmm?  No.  Why?” He breathed a sigh of relief.  “Why?”

“Roscar got a note from your thief friend.”  Aurelia tilted her head curiously.  “The Pumpkin Spectre is after you.”  Aurelia pointed to herself.

“Me?  What for?” Aurelia asked but he could only shrug in answer.  She huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms over her chest as she tried to figure out what the hell a spectre wanted with her.  It was ridiculous, unless.  Farkas bared his teeth menacingly as the creature appeared behind Aurelia.  She looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened.

“By the Nine but you’re ugly.”  Farkas and the spirit both paused at her outburst.  Farkas couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped and Hollowjack rattled his bones at Aurelia.  Farkas grabbed her when she started towards Hollowjack.  “You’re just a damn Daedra.”

“What?” Farkas whispered as Hollowjack recoiled at her yelling at him.  “Are you certain?”  Aurelia looked over her shoulder and gave him a scathing glare.

“Of course I’m certain.  Cyrodil celebrates this festival too, and I learned all about its origins.”  She pointed towards the Daedra.  “And I know you picked me because I’m carrying something you want for your damned festival.  Picked it up at an abandoned temple the other day.”

“Give it back.”

“Alright already.  Hang on.”  Aurelia yanked free of Farkas and looked down as a few of the silken petals fell into his hands.  “Well, that’s fine.”  She turned back towards the Daedra and crossed her arms.  “First things first.  You bring us back to Nirn, specifically Skyrim.”

“Wait, we’re in Skyrim.”  Aurelia shook her head at Farkas and that’s when he realized there was a strange smell that he couldn’t place in the air.

“No.  We’re in Detritus.  His domain,” she said pointing to Hollowjack.  “Now send us back.  Then I’ll give it back to you.”  Hollowjack rattled his bones at her.  “Nope.  That part is not up for negotiation.  Bring us back or I make what you want into bone ash.”

“It is done.”  With a snap of his fingers they were in Aurelia’s home in Whiterun.  Farkas looked around in surprise before stepping closer to her, keeping his eye on the Daedra.

“Well, that is handy.  And here is what you want.” Aurelia waved her hand and the horse skull appeared in Hollowjack’s hands.  Farkas heard the faint call of a horse as if it was coming from a great distance away.  “Now, go enjoy your holiday and leave me be.”

“Your soul,” Hollowjack said pointing towards Aurelia.  She let out a laugh that bordered on maniacal, it unnerved Farkas.

“When I die, I want to see the spectacular war between the daedric lords that will happen.”  Both Hollowjack and Farkas stared at her in quiet surprise before the Pumpkin Spectre simply stepped through his portal again, closing it rather quickly behind him.

“Hah, that was easier than I thought.” Aurelia shook her head and turned to face Farkas.  “Were you worried about me?” Aurelia asked as she clasped her hands behind her back while looking up at him.  He nodded, looking at her with the worry still etched into his face.  She reached up for him pulling until her lips touched his in a feather soft kiss.  “You didn’t need to.  I knew Hollowjack was going to come after me.  I looked up what the skull was and kept it with me until the festival.”

“You knew?” Aurelia nodded at his question.  “And you still kept it?”

“Well of course.  I wouldn’t pawn it off on some poor unsuspecting soul.  As many Daedric princes as I’ve faced down, I think it’s better for me to personally take this one on.”  Farkas shook his head but he had to admit that Aurelia had more encounters than anyone he’d ever heard of.  “Plus, I could’ve gotten us out of that plane anytime.  I know the spell for opening a portal to Nirn so I wasn’t too worried.”  Farkas stared at the wall as he tried to wrap his mind around how powerful his partner was.  And he thought of her as a partner and not just a lover.  In his mind, they were on equal footings.  “Though I should let Nyx know I’m fine.”

Aurelia flicked her wrist and the message was sent.  Nyx was relieved and passed the message along to the Companions.  She and Nazir headed to a safehouse for the Brotherhood in Whiterun to sleep for the evening.  Roscar finally let himself get some sleep without worrying about a damned Dragonborn traversing damned planes of existence.

Breezehome

“You want to take a bath with me?” Aurelia asked, tilting her face up towards Farkas.  He nodded and pointed towards her tub.

“I’ll fill it,” he said but she shook her head.  He narrowed his eyes.  “No magic.”

“What?  Why!?  It’s a lot quicker.”  She turned to face him as he got that stubborn set to his jaw.  “Magically summoned water won’t harm your precious werewolf ego,” she said poking his chest with her finger.  Farkas glared down at her and grasped her finger, tugging until his lips pressed a kiss against the palm.  “Besides, this house doesn’t have a well pump nearby.  I do in Solitude, but not here.”  He sighed heavily.

“Fine.”  She grinned and waved her hand towards the tub.  Farkas watched as the water magically rose and steam floated from it.  “Still don’t like magic.”

“But you like me?”  He nodded.  “Then that’s all you need to trust.  You don’t have to trust magic but trust me and know I’d never do anything that would harm you.”  He opened his mouth to argue but agreed.  He could trust her, and he did trust her.  He grumbled a little but he agreed it was more efficient than filling it by hand.

“Now, to get this thing off.” Aurelia jumped when his hand brushed the front of her outfit.  She looked over at him when his fingers twisted and set the brooch aside, and she grinned when his eyes widened as the outfit fell to the floor with a soft flutter.  “Yep, the only thing holding it together was that little pin.”

Farkas gave her a look that had her breath hitching in her chest.  He backed her up until her hips hit the side of her tub, smiling down at her in a way that unsettled her nerves.  Her heart thundered in her ears and lips trembled under his fingers.  “Get in the bath,” he murmured before brushing his lips across hers.  Aurelia smiled up at him and climbed in sighing as the warmth soaked into her body.  He climbed in behind her after stripping out of his armor.  “Now talk.”

“Hmph, you want to know how I came to acquire the horse skull of the Pumpkin Spectre’s phantom steed?  The one that carries the headless rider?”  Farkas nodded as he pulled her back against his chest.  She was safe and unharmed.  He’d been so worried and now all that worry melted away.  “It’s stupid.  I went into the temple thinking it held a word wall.  I stumbled across the horse skull on a small altar to Malacath.  Some poor sod felt betrayed last year by the Pumpkin Spectre and stole the skull.  I do not know how they came to acquire it, but as soon as I touched it, I felt the magic go through me.  So I availed myself of the College’s expansive library and found the damn thing in a book.”  She sighed and rested her head against his chest.

“You’re a trouble magnet.”  She grinned and agreed that it described her perfectly.

“Rarely do I go looking for trouble but trouble always finds me,” she replied and sighed when his hands slid up to cup her breasts.  “Farkas.”  He shook his head and leaned forward.  His lips trailed over her shoulder, savoring the feel of her shuddering beneath him.  He eased one hand between her legs, groaning when he found her already aching for his touch.  His fingers slid into her body, curling just right as his palm massaged her sensitive nub.  His teeth sank down onto her skin with each soft moan pulled from her chest.

Aurelia panted as the heat folded itself into knots between her legs.  She shifted until she was able to sit up and then sink down on his cock with her hand guiding him into her weeping folds.  His arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her in place as he buried his face between her shoulder blades.  He just wanted to savor the connection with her for just a little longer.  His lips trailed up her spine before parting on the back of her neck and nipping the sensitive skin there.  He groaned when her body clamped down on his cock.

Aurelia began to rock her body against his, seeking the friction she so desperately needed.  She didn’t care about the water or anything else.  She just wanted to make them both feel good.  Her head dropped forward at the feel of his teeth against her.  His fingers teased and gently pinched her clit, bringing her closer and closer to that edge.  A keening cry escaped her with each stroke and press of them.  She fell off the edge into a tempest.  Waves of heated pleasure crashed through her, her mind went blank from it all, and her fingers dug into the sides of the tub.  Farkas curled around her back as his cock spasmed inside of her.  She heard him whisper her name as he came inside.

They both sat in the silence for a few moments, just basking in each other, before he slowly lifted her off him.  A weak protest met his ears but he was determined.  He wanted more.  Farkas climbed out of the tub and reached in to scoop her out.  “Use your magic to dry us.  We’re going to the bed.”

[wellthebardsdead]

Kaidan: Hands and knees covered in dirt again aye Farkas? Been playing in the flower bed again?

Farkas: bite me Kaidan- *freezes seeing Marigold coming* … *hurries off and returns with a bouquet of Marigolds, lavender and forget me nots he’d arranged* Marie! Here, I grew these for you.

Marigold: *bright red* y-you? F-for me? I- *takes it and sniffs at it* m-my sense of smell isn’t good at all but I love these, I can actually smell them and they look l-lovely. Th-thank you Farkas.

Farkas: Don’t mention it, there’s plenty more where they came from t- Ow?! Kaidan?!

Kaidan: *suddenly drags him back into jorrvaskr* What the fock?! You know I’m trying to court them!!

Farkas: well you’re doing a shit job at it Welp! *pushes him away*

Kaidan: He’s not a one book person and I’ve got plenty more chapters to dig through yet so I know what he likes! *pushes him back*

Farkas: Maybe if you tried asking him you’d know!! *pushes him harder knocking him against the tables*

Kaidan: …

Farkas: …

*meanwhile outside*

Ysolda: oh they’re lovely, did he grow them himself?

Marigold: he did, I-I’ve never had anyone give me flowers before I don’t know what to do.

Ysolda: take him to dinner obvious-

Marigold: *quickly moves her out of the way as suddenly the doors to jorrvaskr bust open and Kaidan & Farkas tumble down the stairs beating the crap out of each other* WHAT THE FUCK?!

Vilkas & Skjor: *trying to separate them*

Skjor: LET GO KAIDAN!

Vilkas: BROTHER STOP THIS! *looks back at the mead hall* SOME HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED!

Athis: *holding his bloodied nose* no thanks I already tried.

Marigold: *stomps his foot* KAIDAN!

Kaidan & Farkas: *still going at it*

Marigold: *hands Ysolda the flowers and braces himself* FUS-

Everyone else: *moves as far out of the way as they can*

Marigold: RO DAH!!!!!

Kaidan & Farkas: *both get blasted off each other by the dragonborns thuum and right into the stream surrounding the gildergleam*

Farkas: ughhh- *sits up rubbing his face*

Kaidan: *grunts getting up to his feet ready for round 2* You gob shi-

Marigold: Kaidan.

Kaidan: *turns around to see the high elf standing there looking pissed*

Farkas: *looks up to see his brother glaring down at him* He started it.

Vilkas: I don’t care who started it. *grabs him by his hair pulling him up to his feet* you made a fool of yourself and the companions. Go inside.

Farkas: … *huffs and limps back up the stairs*

Skjor: *watches him go before looking at kaidan* learn to control your jealousy and your anger while you’re at it. Pup. *walks off after Farkas*

Vilkas: *just looks at Kaidan and shakes his head before looking over at marigold then back at him* I won’t say anything. I think you’re in enough trouble as is… *walks after Skjor and his brother*

Kaidan: *watches them go before looking at Marigold* Marie I can explain I just-

Marigold: I don’t want to hear it kaidan… I’ll see you at home. Clean yourself up… *huffs and turns away walking off with ysolda*

Ysolda: *hands him back the flowers tucking one behind his ear while she’s at it* I’d always wondered what it’d be like having men fighting over me, but after witnessing that I never want to experience that myself.

Marigold: *sighs* gods I’m so embarrassed… *takes a flower putting it behind her ear as well*

Kaidan: *watches them leave* … fuck…

*The next morning*

Kaidan & Farkas: *both red black & purple all over, both pouting still*

Vilkas: You two are going to apologise to each other and if you wish to compete for his hand you’re going to do so as gentlemen. Not a couple untrained pups.

Kaidan: I’m not apologising for anything.

Farkas: neither am I…

Vilkas: *looks at Aela*

Aela: *pulls out a fungal pod and waves it at Kaidan* you sure about that?

Vilkas: *pulls out a tiny baby frostbite spider and holds it close to his brothers face* You reeeeally sure about that?

Kaidan & Farkas: IM SORRY! IM SORRY! IM SORRY!!!!

[mareenavee]

Another Time, Somewhere Else

Thank you to @gilgamish for the extra caveats on this prompt! >:}

Prompt was: Lace!

Another Time, Somewhere Else

23rd of Evening Star 4E 201

This close to Saturalia, the streets of Solitude were packed with travelers and merchants alike. Snow drifted in comfortable flurries, the breeze gentle despite the proximity to the sea. The outdoor market, which normally wasn’t much to look at, was overwhelmed with new, temporary booths resplendent with goods imported from all over the province—perhaps even all over Tamriel. It was unsurprising that this city would put on airs to appear as though the war and the dragons were not threats here. Nyenna knew the truth, having been mired in the latter half of the chaos for a little while now. She tried not to let it put a damper on her mood.

Athis squeezed her hand as they drew closer to the market. Ysolda, surprisingly, was at the nearest stall to the road, her shop busy as Khajiiti imports changed hands amongst joyful chatter and laughter. She caught Athis’s eye and waved, though her voice was lost to the crowds, and her attention followed.

As Nyenna made to move toward the shop, she found herself enveloped in a crushing hug and lifted straight up off of her feet. She shouted, terrified, even as a roar of a laugh escaped the person who had apprehended her. The ground shook with the sound of her voice, throwing patrons off balance, and wares in Ysolda’s shop flying in every which direction. Nobody in the throng of people seemed to be able to pinpoint exactly where the blast came from—she didn’t fit the picture of a legendary hero, after all, who could shout down dragons. The confused murmuring was, in hindsight, a little bit funny.

“Farkas! You idiot! Put her down!” Athis yelled. Farkas, still chuckling to himself, did as he was told. Nyenna caught her breath and turned to face him. 

“Hello,” she said, settling on a mildly unnerved, but neutral response. “We didn’t know you and Ysolda were coming to Solitude. We’d have traveled together.” 

“We didn’t leave when you did, I don’t think,” Farkas said. He stretched, looking strange without his customary steel armor. He was dressed in layers of thick, warm clothing, with a heavy blue cloak wrapped over his shoulders and pinned with bone and gold. Ysolda’s touch. “We’re gonna stay here through the holiday. I haven’t had a real vacation in ages! But I had better help Ysolda pick up her wares here…sorry about scaring you, Nyenna.”

“It’s okay,” Nyenna answered with a small smile. She glanced over at Athis. “Mind helping him? I have an errand really fast.” Her voice lilted purposefully as she folded her hands behind her back.

Athis grinned. “Yeah, I’ll stick around and catch up. Try not to Shout more merchandise off the shelves wherever you’re going, love.”

“No promises,” Nyenna answered. She leaned in for a quick kiss. He slid a hand around her waist and stole another kiss before he turned away to rejoin his friends. The merriment and chatter of the crowd resumed as if nothing had happened. In a way, Nyenna felt strangely invisible as she moved between people. She wondered briefly how long she could keep getting away with that. -> Read the rest on AO3.

[metalsiren]

[ SHARE ]: the sender opens out their blanket to share it with the receiver during a snow storm, pulling them closer against them to share their body heat.

there  was  no  better  comfort  than  the  warmth  of  farkas'  body  pressed  against  her  own.  no  better  HEARTH  to  soothe  her  weary  soul  after  a  day  filled  with  obstacles  and  terrors  that  lived  behind  her  eyes  whenever  she  closed  them.  so  DESPERATE  was  she  for  that  reprieve  that  she  would  face  danger  and  turmoil  to  get  it.  it  wasn't  the  snow  that  made  her  hesitant,  not  the  way  the  wheels  of  her  car  spun  out  beneath  her  almost  enough  for  her  to  lose  control  of  the  wheel.  that  was  nothing  in  comparison  to  the  way  her  stomach  would  churn  at  the  look  of  fear  and  concern  in  her  lover's  eyes,  the  guilt  she'd  feel  to  have  him  worry  about  losing  her  when  he  realized  what  she  FACED  just  to  get  to  him. 

stepping  through  the  threshold  of  his  home,  the  key  she  used  to  get  in  symbolizing  not  only  his  door  but  his  heart  as  well,  she  made  herself  practically  invisible.  shoes  were  discarded,  leaving  sock-covered  feet  to  quietly  pad  through  the  floorplan  until  she  made  it  to  his  bedroom.  nose  and  fingers  were  still  slightly  red  from  the  cold  outside,  clasping  her  hands  together  in  an  ATTEMPT  to  warm  them.  the  hot  breath  to  her  palms  must  have  been  what  woke  him,  apology  etched  into  the  small  woman's  gaze,  prepared  to  explain  herself.

the  confusion  and  questioning  in  his  voice,  why  she  was  here,  how  she  got  all  the  way  to  his  home,  sawyer  couldn't  help  but  interrupt,   ❝  listen,  i  know  i  shouldn't've  driven.  i'm  sorry,  okay?  i  just  —  ❞  before  she  could  continue,  the  sight  of  HIM  lifting  the  blanket  had  her  give  PAUSE,  revealing  his  very  bare  torso  and  welcoming  her  in.  such  an  invitation  was  hastily  responded  to  in  the  way  she  began  to  strip,  pulling  herself  free  from  both  the  confines  of  her  clothes  and  extreme  loneliness.

left  COMPLETELY  bare,  modesty  traded  in  for  comfort  and  security,  sawyer  slid  onto  the  mattress,  palms  flat  against  the  sheets  before  she  climbed  in  the  rest  of  the  way.  taking  shelter  beneath  the  blankets,  they  did  little  in  comparison  to  the  utter  solace  she  found  in  farkas'  arms  wrapping  around  her,  flesh  against  flesh  to  the  point  where  sawyer  hoped  they'd  become  one.  instead,  frost-kissed  nose  pressed  into  the  crook  of  his  neck,  winter-touched  hands  balled  together  between  their  HEARTS, ❝  i  don't  know  why  i  ever  go  home...  ❞  especially  when  she'd  ultimately  found  it  in  that  very  moment.

@wolfbrawn | BLIZZARD PROMPTS. | accepting.

[kagedbird]

TESSDE AU (+ Lucia :]) (Taleisin part 3)

Lucia had been drawing everything that she'd seen around town; people, items, dogs, anything. She also drew the Companions to the best of her ability, as well as Allora and Farkas fighting a few draugr. She asks Taliesin if she could take them to Kodlak as a present with some flowers, as he is happy to do so.

Taliesin: *watches Lucia run up to Kodlak with a soft smile, hanging behind a little bit to stay out of Danica's way*

Lucia: Hello Mr. Kodlak! I brought you flowers, and a bunch of drawings!

Kodlak: *lightly wheezing despite Danica's aid, but smiles at Lucia none the less* Hello my dear. That's very kind of you. May I see?

Taliesin: *helps her up on the bed, nodding respectfully to Danica before giving her her space*

Danica: *smiles and nods back, carefully removing ichor from from Kodlak's lungs like Allora taught her*

Lucia: *curls up against Kodlak's right side, opening her small satchel of flowers and giving him one* I thought this would look really pretty on you! It's mama's favourite, too!

Kodlak: *chuckles and coughs, turning away from her as he shudders for air* Th-thank you my dear. I shall treasure it. *tucks it behind his ear with a smile*

Lucia: *smiles back weakly, starting to understand the severity of his illness, but shoves away the fear by showing him her pictures* Papa said that you haven't been out for a long time, so I thought about drawing you things I'd seen! Look- here's the big tree outside Jorrvaskr!

Kodlak: Ooh, indeed... how lovely.

Lucia: And here's the market places... and home! And...

Kodlak: *gently pats her head as she shows him all her drawings, smiling tiredly* You may not be born of her directly, but her spirit infects you still. How at ease I feel next to you...

Lucia: *feels a little bit of pride, wanting nothing more than to emulate her mother* I'm glad!

Skjor: *knocks on the door, eyeing Taliesin in confusion before seeing Lucia* Ah... wasn't aware we had visitors.

Taliesin: Just for the time being. Lucia brought Kodlak gifts.

Skjor: *inclines his chin, nodding to the girl* Thank you. Your mother would be proud.

Lucia: *smiles and looks down, fiddling with her dress shyly*

Skjor: Kodlak, I wanted to alert you that we've found another potential spot for a piece of Wuuthrad. Aela was supposed to join me, but I can't find her.

Kodlak: *shakes his head, trembling* You will not. She has gone with Allora and the twins and her Khajiit partner on a mission. Stay your hand for now.

Skjor: *furrowed eyebrows* But-

Kodlak: *coughs heavily, covering his mouth and pulling away from Lucia as blood leaks from his lips; Danica urging him to lean over towards the bedside bucket*

Taliesin: *swoops in and grabs Lucia* Gods... do not look, Bumblebee. *covers her eyes*

Lucia: *scared for Kodlak, but dutifully listens to him*

Skjor: *torn between completing his honor bound duty to complete Wuuthrad and listen to his dying mentor, watching Kodlak spit blood into the bucket* ... *decides that his mentor is simply trying to keep him overly safe and shakes his head, choosing to complete the Guild's path over anything else, and leaves*

Taliesin: *watches with narrow eyes, cradling Lucia close* ...

[argisthebulwark]

Time Moves Slow - Vilkas

sfw, gn reader Summary: After returning from Sovngarde the Dragonborn finds that a handful of hours for them has been years for those in Tamriel and reunites with their loved one. Others Linked: Farkas, Brynjolf, Teldryn, Miraak, Cicero

All duties were forgotten as your boots touched ground once more. Vilkas was all that mattered. Bruises ached with every step but you hurried through Whiterun without thinking - it was quieter than you'd expected, shops closed and stalls unmanned. Maybe they'd anticipated another dragon attack. The Gildergreen's branches stood bare and a few unknown citizens cast wary looks when you hustled toward Jorrvaskr. Heart pounding you shoved the hair out of your face, grimacing at the layer of dirt coating your skin before entering Jorrvaskr. The hearth’s fire banished the nervous chill from your bones. Companions filled every chair around the hall, some engaged in conversation and others hunched dutifully over books. The friendly buzz of conversation halted when you entered. You didn't know these eyes. Some held questions while others seemed hostile. "Who are you?" One voice broke the silence and panic set in. You'd only been gone hours. There was no chance someone scrounged up this many recruits in that small matter of time. "Who are all of you?" You'd never felt so lost in your own home. One woman swung an axe over her shoulder when she stood from the table. "Where is Vilkas?" "You know the Harbinger?" The woman's brow quirked up and your stomach dropped. At least she extended a hand toward the living quarters. "He doesn't get visitors. You should see him." Numbly you let the woman lead you through Jorrvaskr. The weapons adorning the walls were polished, portraits you'd never seen hung down the hallway. You swallowed a scream when you saw an accurate depiction of your face after Kodlak's. "Sir, you have a visitor." "I don't get visitors." Vilkas' grunt sounded rougher than ever. Your hands shook when the Companion cracked open the door to the Harbinger's office - there hadn't been a door before. You stared in awe at the scarred wood hung to make the Harbinger's quarters more private. "She seems to know you. Didn't tell us a name." The silence was so harsh you swore everyone in the hall heard your heart. "It'll only take a moment, sir." "Fine." He sighed and the woman snuck you a quick grin. You tried to return it but you couldn't shake the horrible sensation that something was deeply wrong. "Send her in. If it's a new recruit have Jorlyn ready the training yard." "Good luck." With an encouraging pat on the shoulder she departed. You stared at the crack in the door and gathered the screaming mess of your thoughts - Vilkas was behind that door. Had you somehow altered life on Tamriel after slaying Alduin? The World-Eater was surely important to the fabric of time, had you changed something fundamental during a few hours in Sovngarde? "Are you going to stand there all day, or can we get this over with?" All rational words were banished when you shoved open the door. Vilkas' dark hair was shorter than before and streaked through with grey. He flipped through some book and his foot tapped against the leg of his chair. Tears stung at your eyes when you took in the scars you'd never seen before, a clearly aged tattoo on his forearm, a wedding band on his ring finger. This couldn't be Vilkas - but that scowl didn't lie, you'd heard the voice that had whispered sweet promises to you only that morning. "Vilkas." Your voice broke around his name. His black glare finally tore away from the book and for one terrifying moment he didn't seem to know you. His thick brows tightened, mouth in a tight line when he turned to you. "My love?" His gaze softened when he dropped his work. He stood slowly, moving as if he feared approaching you. You couldn't stop tears cascading down your cheeks when Vilkas' fingers finally traced up your jaw, tugging you closer and allowing you to clutch at his unfamiliar armor. His stubble tickled at your skin when he kissed your face, eager hands drawing your body to his. "Where have you been?" His voice shook with each word. Your face stung from tears and Vilkas' familiar fingers combed through the back of your hair, one nervous kiss placed atop your head. "We have so much to discuss."

[cavvyiswriting]

unprompted writing bc im hyperfixating about fallout new vegas

Can read it below the break, spoilers for many major quests.

6's eyes flutter open lazily, taking in the room around her, she recognizes that feeling. And the headache that follows. Last time she felt like this she was in Doc Mitchell's care.

This time the headache is from the Med-x, not a 9mm.

She rolls over over to see ED-E patiently waiting for her, hovering next to her bed like always. It's 2284, New Year's Day on the Strip. Or at least it would have been if they weren't dealing with a thousand issues at once. Refugees clogged the Strip and Freeside, the Followers were overwhelmed, and her army of Securitrons were trying to keep the peace.

She stands and puts on her clothes, leaving off her blackjack duster. And moseys on out into the penthouse meeting room, ED-E following closely behind.

Sitting at the table are some of her closest advisors, Arcade Gannon, in his Remnant Power Armor, and Veronica Santangelo, in her modified suit of T-45d. The leaders of many of the most powerful groups from throughout the Mojave also sit at the table: Raquel, the new elder of the Boomers; Elder Hardin, of the Brotherhood's Mojave Chapter; Marcus, mayor of Jacobstown; The King, from Freeside; Julie Farkas from the Followers; a delegate from each of the major towns, Goodsprings, Novac, Westside, and a representative each from the Three Families.

As always, she was late, and they were all screaming at each other by the time she arrived.

She takes her seat at the head of the table. And everyone falls silent, she looks tired, it's been a long 2 years.

The delegate from Goodsprings speaks up first, "Ma'am, what are you planning to do? We've already lost Primm and the majority of the I-15."

"Well, the Gun Runners pulled out weeks ago, so we've lost a huge potential store of weapons to help, didn't we?" Veronica's voice is low, trying to consider all possibilities.

She thinks back on what Ulysses had said to her in the Divide years ago, "Mojave'll be easy prey for them. They'll start emerging throughout the Mojave in time, might be years. Probably less. They breed fast, hunt in groups, more than enough to bring down the strongest in the Mojave."

Slowly, 6 stands up from her chair – robbed from Caesar after the Second Battle for Hoover Dam – and steps quietly over to the window, overlooking the west side of the Mojave, able to see everything from Goodsprings, Red Rock, and Jacobstown. And all the fires to the Southwest past Goodsprings. Where Primm used to be, that the Boomers turned into a smoking crater to stop the spread.

"The Khans had the right idea, leaving. It was the only way I'd be able to help them get away from what was coming."

6's voice cast a shadow of gloom and doubt over every representative.

"We're going to die here, in the Mojave. Nothing in the Big Empty can help us against what's gonna come crawling up outta the Divide."

[decidentia]

◈   @shellcrack  //  starter

Cutting through the resinous scent of pine needles, through the earthy notes of rotting mulch and fungus, came the reek of blood. Its coppery, metallic tang filled Farkas’ nose, strong enough to coat the back of his throat, to lie thick on his tongue. A red ribbon was what pulled him through the fringes of woodland, deeper into the forest’s feathered heart.

Mankind could not help but leave a mark. A desolation of tree stumps, like coarse stubble, greeted him as he approached the isolated homestead. Pens that had once housed livestock now guarded their remains. Putrid and bloated, the stiff-legged, round-bellied creatures lay in their own filth, oozing from every orifice. The cool light of Farkas’ pewter gaze traced the rims of crow-picked eye sockets, quick to focus on the door which hung open in dark promise. Blood formed a lacquer – so dark it was almost black – that drip-dried down the front steps, staining the grain and soaking into the pores of the wood.

This scene of humble domesticity had been the site of a slaughter. Farkas was no stranger to horror, but still he felt a kernel of dread sprout in his chest. Boots creaked and dove-tail joists whined as he mounted the steps, congealed pools crackling beneath his heavy footfall. Being both a monster and a monster of a man, he was too big for homely spaces; he was forced to duck his head to enter the cabin, the ruin inside reflected dully in his steel breastplate. Sparse furniture had been reduced to splintered kindling, and all was dusted by the ash and cinders that spewed from the cold fireplace. Shutters were closed, the only light that entered the space pushed in behind him, casting his shadow tall and broad.

A massacre. Bodies pulled apart. Two – Farkas counted – identifying them by the ribcages that yawned open like bear traps, vomiting their innards. Maggots writhed ecstatic in gnawed flesh while their blue-sheen parents buzzed black and fat, rubbing their hands together in filthy glee, feasting on the splatters of gore that painted the vaulted ceiling. At the stink, he closed a hand over his nose and mouth, that cloying decay softened by the leather that covered his palm. No lives to save here, no murderer to apprehend, not even an unspoiled larder to raid. He turned as if to leave.

And then he heard it. The softest of whimpers, the rapid tick of a frantic heartbeat. Heaped in a corner, gore-flecked sheets heaved and mewled. Farkas thought of a she-cat’s nest, of the helplessness of newborn kittens, all milky breath and dandelion-fluff fur. Through the tangle of torn linen, he glimpsed birch-pale limbs and wild brown hair. The shroud slipped lower, revealing impossibly wide and round blue eyes, glassy in terror, red-rimmed from long-spent tears. A girl.

Farkas approached, looming over her before he thought to make himself small, to settle onto one knee. He reached out a gauntleted hand, proffering it to her as though she were a kicked stray, a hag-ridden mare.

“Easy, child.”

[metalsiren-a]

[ BEHIND ]:         upon entering the same room as the receiver, the sender steps behind them, and winds their arms around the receiver’s waist, drawing them close against them. – from Farkas!

                               ——  ✞ ;  𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗦𝗨𝗗𝗗𝗘𝗡  𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟  𝗢𝗙  𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗦  𝗜𝗦  𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗗.  the  strength  of  them  envelop  her,  offering  an  all  too  familiar  security  that  sawyer  is  sure  she  can  only  find  in  farkas'  grasp.  she's  just  been  in  the  kitchen,  breakfast  quickly  on  its  way  as  she  leans  back  against  the  broad  wall  of  his  chest,  lips  pulling  into  something  soft  and  overflowing  with  fondness.  as much  as  she  resents  leaving  him  alone  in  bed  in  the  morning,  she  relents  with  the  sole  knowledge  that  she'll  be  feeding  him  instead,  offering  a  kind  gesture  that  shows  her  devotion  to  him  and  his  needs.  how  often  does  he  take  care  of  her?  put  her  own  needs  before  his  own?  there  is  no  one  as  selfless  as  the  man  who  holds  her,  no  one  as  inutitive  to  her  emotions.  but he  isn't  the  only  one  to  feel  emotions  tied  to  another,  as  sawyer  returns  the  sentiment  in  kind. 

                               ❛  morning,  mamour . . .  ❜  she  hums,  keeping  her  voice  low  and  with  intent  to sooth,  figuring  he's  only  just  woken  up  from  the  deep  slumber  he'd  found  himself  in.  head  turns  towards  him  as  she  does,  lips  curved  into  a  loving  grin  before it  immediately  starts  to  fall.  the  way  his  grip  tightens  on  her,  how  his  head  digs  harder  into  the  crook  of  her  neck,  it's  clear  to  the  small  woman  that  there's  something  off.  sawyer's  stomach  drops,  features  becoming  overlayed  with  worry  as  she  wordlessly  turns  off  the  stove  and  removes  the  pan  of  eggs  from  the  element.  ❛  farkas?  ❜  his  name  escapes  her  as  she  pulls  from  his  hold,  though  only  just  enough  to  turn  and  face  him.  

                               there  she  sees  it,  the  look  of  exhaustion  and  reminance  of  what  sawyer  assumes  is  . . .  fear?  small  hands  cup  his  jawline,  fingers  scratching  against  his  beard  as  she  tilts  her  head  in  a  way  to  catch  his  gaze  with  her  own,  ❛  hey,  hey  . . .  baby.  look  at  me.  what's  goin'  on?  ❜  with  a  soft  coo,  she  runs  her  hands  down  to  his  neck,  ❛  talk  to  me.  ❜

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 👀. // @decidentia + accepting!

[austerulous]

◈   @dcmination  //  cont.

All around them, lichen-mottled stone rose out of the earth like bones, like fangs. It was fitting that they meet here, among the crumbling ruins.

Dredhwen must have heard him, must have known that he approached. With his own mass, with the weight of his steel, his footfall was heavy. Age-old bones peeked from between blades of grass and from under blankets of moss. As Farkas approached, they splintered beneath his boots. A fitting audience, of the deathless and the death-bound.

Daughter of Coldharbour, she would outlive him – unless violence took her. They would bear no children, they would never sleep under the same roof. The only ceiling they shared was the vaulted sky, pitch dark and bristling with stars. No hope for the next life, either. All they had were moments such as this. Furtive, offensive to Molag Bal and Hircine alike.

Farkas was immune to her monstrosity, just as she was immune to his. In his nose, the familiar scent of moonflower and blood. In his ears, her voice, its frigid edges thawing. Silently, he swallowed her in an embrace from behind, arms closing around his paramour like jaws. His looming silhouette engulfed her own as he pulled her into his heat, blunt teeth scraping against the helix of her ear, before dissolving into a kiss to her temple. Farkas breathed in Dredhwen’s nacreous beauty, breathed in the chill of her, her perfume of grave soil and blood. Weeks and months of absence had salted his appetite.

More sensible than he, his lover prised herself away, resisting what he had already yielded to. Distance of only several places yawned between them, seemingly insurmountable.

“Looking for you. The moons are almost full. I know they call to you, as they call to me.”

We share that much, at least.

Beneath the gravel of his voice, a wound, rejection stinging brief and bright as a papercut. It passed quickly, and Farkas’ tone shifted into one that was soft, urgent:

“Tell me to leave. Send me away, if that’s what you truly want.”