#farkas is just confused

[mavariel]

You can now have all my blorbos together! For the low price of free!

[justashamwithwastedpotential]

OCCE - Jade Overview

Masterlist

Meet Jade!

A master thief, Nightingale, assassin, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Arch-Mage of the College, Harbinger of the Companions, Dragonborn/Alduin's Bane, and Thane of every hold in Skyrim. Also a lovely mother of six children, married to a werewolf, and has a vampire lord as a best friend.

Jade has gone through her fair share of adventures, most of them begrudgingly, but it has earned her a fancy amount of titles.

And riches.

So many riches.

She originally got her start as a member of the thieves guild in a town called Riften, but after botching a job and killing a witness to her crime, she sought out shelter with the infamous assassins of the Dark Brotherhood.

But the Mistress of the Sanctuary, Astrid, had her doubts about one of the newest additions to the crew, a jester named Cicero who had taken a dislike to Astrid and the other members' blatant disregard for the Brotherhood's traditions. Astrid sent Jade to spy on Cicero by hiding in the coffin he tended to that held the ancient bones of the Dark Brotherhoods unholy matron, the Night Mother.

It was while she was hiding that the Night Mother reached out to her marking Jade as the new Listener for the Dark Brotherhood. Aka she now gets to be the only person in the world who hears the voice of a long dead woman in her head telling her who to murder. A glamorous position I assure you.

Jade denied her role at first, and took every measure she could to evade it. She traveled across Skyrim gaining favors in every hold, gained housing in every major city, settled down and focused on raising her children. But the Night Mother's voice echoed in her head all the same until she gave up pretending that her life of being the altruistic hero was something she wanted and she returned to serving the Brotherhood.

Her kids however, still continued to grow older eventually heading off in different directions to pursue their own dreams. And while Jade traveled to the mage's college to drop off one of her daughters she got roped into a series of events that eventually lead to her becoming Arch-Mage of the college despite knowing a grand total of like, four spells at the time. No one protested or questioned this development (much to Jade's annoyance).

Similarly to the mages college, through misguided intentions, coin, and a bit of blackmail she also ended up the leader of one of the most "honorable" groups of fighters in Skyrim. Unlike the mages, everyone questioned this, but still no one protested out of respect for the previous Harbinger's wishes.

It was here however that she met a man named Farkas who was often assigned as her companion on these missions. At first, she considered him a hindrance, but eventually came to appreciate the giant meat shield- I mean skilled fighter that he was. She'd grown used to his presence, and he'd come to respect her, even more so after she became Harbinger.

They continued to travel together and eventually most of Jade's kids had begun taking a liking to him, and one by one they all started to band together to try to convince Jade to marry him, some less subtly than others (the oldest did not approve, but he was out voted by his siblings).

They were unsuccessful in their attempts, but the idea of courtship did start to stick, and after Jade had gone on to save the world from the dragon uprising (as a main character does) Farkas officially proposed to her.

For sake of the stardew bit we're starting here in the timeline: with the two hunting down some cultists who crashed their wedding ceremony.

Which means Farkas has just been left stranded somewhere without his wife. Whoops.

He'll probably be okay.

Life in the Valley (Coming Soon)

[goopysoup]

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..someone will ache for your soul..

In which you find your soulmate

featuring: farkas, vilkas, mercer frey, brynjolf, cicero, ancano, serana

[all are gender neutral, but there is a mention of being called ‘pretty’] [this took me almost three hours 💀 I don’t like most of them:(]

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farkas

He could smell them from a mile away.

That’s weird, let’s start again, shall we? Farkas swung his sword at the giant, fighting the urge to turn and run towards the sweet smell approaching. The beast inside him begged— pleaded— for him to go and engulf himself inside that smell, to cover himself in it, whatever it was.

That’s when he saw them. They aimed a bow, a steel arrow shooting through the air and into the giants eye, making it roar out before Aela ultimately got the last hit and killed the giant on the farm. Farkas couldn’t keep his eyes off them, the smell was coming from them. He watched as Aela spoke to them, not even registering what she was saying as he watched this person— the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

Later, he’d seen them at Jorrvaskr, watching them enter and sneak downstairs. Were they joining?

“Farkas!” He’d heard Skjor’s voice shout from Aela’s room, “did you call me?” He asks as he smells that sweet smell again, his eyes locking on theirs. He barely heard what Aela was saying to him, “uh— new blood? Oh, hello. I’m Farkas. Come, follow me.”

He’d spoken to Kodlak later that night, asking him what in oblivion that sweet smell coming from them was and why was it just coming from them?

Kodlak laughs, forgetting that Farkas could be a bit dense at times, “she’s your mate,” he says as he pats him on the back a little harshly, “your soulmate, in other words.”

His soulmate..

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vilkas

He’d had their stupid name imprinted on his wrist since he was just a pup, a name he’d never heard of in all his years. Vilkas had begun to doubt that his soulmate even lived in Tamriel, in Skyrim, how unlucky was he? First, his lycanthropy, now his soulmate was nowhere to be seen? Nobody knew of someone with such a name?

It was a normal day as any, Vilkas sat at the small table with Kodlak, the two of them wondering if there truly would ever be a way for them to be rid of the beast. The beat haunted Kodlak, he knew that, the old man wanted to get into Sovngarde as any true nord would. But the beast prevented that, he would end up in Hircine’s land hunting for the rest of eternity.

It wasn’t long before an unfamiliar person walked into the halls of Jorrvaskr, heading down towards the two men. Their conversation was cut short, “I’d like to join the companions,” their voice was nice, I stark contrast to the armour and weapons they had on their body.

“Would you, now? Here, let me have a look at you? Hmm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit.” Kodlak spoke, making Vilkas furrow his eyebrows.

“Master, you’re not truly considering accepting them?” He asks, making Kodlak give him a subtly pointed look, explaining they had empty beds for people with a fire in their hearts, “Apologies. But, perhaps this isn’t the time. I’ve never even heard of this outsider.”

The person sheepishly looks to Vilkas before they state their name. He freezes for a moment before he looks at them, Kodlak letting out a hearty laugh, making the person look at him with confusion.

“Vilkas, take them out to the yard and see what they can do.” Kodlak says before the person looks between Vilkas and Kodlak for a moment.

Oh gods..

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mercer frey

He’d known they were his soulmate from the moment he’d met them. Mercer saw the tattoo imprinted onto their forearm before they pulled their sleeve back down, he wasn’t stupid. But he’d never said anything, never gave them the hint he wanted them as much as they wanted him, not with the plans he had against the guild.

He’d let his guard down, it was so unlike him to bring any of his walls down but they made him. It was their fault, wasn’t it? He reaches over, his hand brushing against their cheek as they both stood outside in the backyard of his home, concealed under the stars, slone with no one watching them.

“I know,” they say suddenly, he furrows his eyebrows, “know what?” He asks in return, slipping his hand down to their neck, cradling it. He could choke them and end the misery of having him as their soulmate.

The grasp his wrist, carefully sliding down his sleeve to show the matching tattoo. His face hardens, pulling away as he covers the tattoo with his sleeve again, “it means nothing.”

He didn’t entirely mean those words, he yearned for them in secret, but he wouldn’t let his walls come down again. They didn’t need to get involved in his dirty work, he didn’t even want them in the guild anymore. It was to protect them.

“Leave, don’t come back, you understand?”

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brynjolf

The Dragonborn walks into Riften for the first time, almost laughing at how scared the guard outside had been when he realised they knew there was no tax. They make their was through the town, they liked the atmosphere even if they couldn’t see the colour of anything, it was better than dealing with the whole Alduin thing, anyways.

“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carrying, eh?” Brynjolf’s voice sounds out quietly as he approaches the famous Dragonborn. Who didn’t know of them, being clad in such armour and that weapon? They didn’t hide it.

“I’m sorry, what?” They ask, looking up at the man before a myriad of colours struck their vision within seconds, overwhelming them. Their head ached at the sight before they finally got used to it and looked around, not noticing the look that Brynjolf was giving them, admiring.

“I’m saying you’ve got the coin, love, but you didn’t earn a septim of it honestly, I can tell,” Brynjolf says once their eyes move back to him, crossing his arms with an expression that matches flirtation.

“How could you possibly know that?” The Dragonborn asks, almost bewildered as they finally get a good look of him, he was handsome, effortlessly charming. It was almost.. irritating? No, that’s not the word, “wait— my wealth is none of your business.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, love. Wealth is my business. Maybe you’d like a taste?” They’d gone through with the plan, stealing what’s-his-face’s ring and planting it on the other who’s-his-name successfully.

“Looks like I chose the right person for the job. And here you go.. your payment, as promised,” Brynjolf hands them the payment he’d promised his soulmate. He couldn’t wait to get them into the guild, to live a life with them— even if the life was illegal.

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cicero

Poor Cicero hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to the pretty assassin that had walked into the sanctuary the day he’d brought his dear mother. Sweet, sweet Night Mother. He was such a good Keeper, wasn’t he? Why wouldn’t she just speak to him! No, he must be calm, that’s what sweet mother would want, isn’t it?

He spoke to the Night Mother now, they were alone, sweet solitude with the sweet Night Mother, “Have you.. have you spoken to anyone? No.. no, of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing and the saying!” He continued for a while, rambling to the mother.

Suddenly, he opens her coffin, gasping with confusing and repulse. Here, the pretty assassin was in the coffin with the Night Mother!

“What? What treachery! Defiler! Debased and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother’s coffin! Explain yourself! Speak, worm!”

The pretty assassin’s eyes seemed to widen at his words, he couldn’t tell if it was because of his words or tone, but he didn’t care, “The Night Mother spoke to me! She said, ‘I am the one.’” Now, it was Cicero’s turn to widen his eyes. Those words! The words! His words! The ones on his arm, the ones his soulmate would say! His Listener!

Good luck with this one, dear Listener..

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ancano

Ancano had noticed them as soon as they’d walked through those gates. Another new apprentice, how bothersome. Still, he continued his conversation with Mirabelle, quickly growing more irritated by the treatment she was giving him.

The new apprentice was guided away by Mirabelle, leaving Ancano to his thoughts. It was odd, he felt drawn to them, though he didn’t know nor care why. He had business to attend to.

The apprentice was in the Hall of Elements with Tolfdir, the two of them watching the mysterious orb they’d found in Saarthal. Clearly, this mage was more troublesome than Ancano had thought. The Psijic Order was asking for them. So, Ancano had inturruped the two of them, gaining a temper tantrum from Tolfdir. It was only when they were alone that the elf had noticed a familiar scratch on the side of the apprentice’s neck- one that matched the one that had appeared on his not but a few hours before.

Gods be damned, this apprentice was his soulmate, “I need you to come with me immediately. Let’s go.”

For now, he wouldn’t say anything about it, this apprentice seemed to be too oblivious. Or, at least, that’s what they pretended to be with that stupid little smile on their lips.

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serana

Being trapped in a tomb for gods know how long wasn’t something Serana entirely enjoyed. I mean, who would? It was dark and cold, dreary and cramped, far too undeserving of even a vampire such as her. She just had to remember, she was doing this for her father and he would come back for her, right?

She hadn’t woken up until she was almost fallen on the floor, but her quick instincts helped her to keep balance. She was free, her father had come back..—

Glancing up, she noticed a person standing there watching with a small amused smile, obviously the one that had rescued her from the dreary space she was just in, obviously not a vampire. Obviously not her father. She was sure her father would’ve come to get his daughter, so who was this? Though, as their eyes met, a shockwave shot through her, the feeling of being alive again was strong, flooding her veins and undead heart. This was her soulmate, she’d waiting thousands of years for this, but why was she so reluctant now? Reluctant to go with them- to trust them, but a part deep inside her knew this was right, she could get used to it. She could get used to them.

“Who are you?” Serana asks, finally having gained her composure. She looks this person up and down, analysing anything and everything she can see. It was clear they were a vampire hunter. Great.

“Who were you expecting?” They ask, almost amused as they watch the pretty vampire, crossing their arms in a similar way Serana was.

“Not my soulmate, that’s for sure.”

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[lelelego]

is there a canon ending you have in mind for Eli and Boone?

god yeah. i'm gonna put this under a cut because it turned into a long one. this is not just the ending but the stuff leading up to it. word vomit galore

just want to reiterate this is all in my insaneo mode head and simply fnv eli's timeline as far as i'm concerned

in a nutshell eli decides an independent vegas is ultimately the best for the residents. he has a hard time deciding between an ncr rule (a somewhat more organized freeside and new vegas, and potentially more resources aside from energy), but seeing firsthand the idiocy operating under the monolith, incompetence, and corruption, does he decide to help the followers of the apocalypse establish control over the area with the help of the king, since julie farkas and the king are both actual people of authority who the people of freeside respect.

when eli tells boone he's not going to help the ncr, boone's conflicted. he's been following eli around because (1) eli makes good on his promise re:fighting the legion, (2) eli is a legion magnet because caesar + lanius hate his guts and keep sending hit squads after his ass, and (3) he genuinely thinks eli will die without him. (none of this is related to the fact that boone enjoys his company, obviously. not even a little bit. obviously.) he's torn between the ncr, the only system he knows, and the person who stands as the trigger of the largest political change in the region. is he responsible for changing this person's mind? does he want to change eli's mind? he doesn't know shit about the ramifications of the ncr leaving, nor the ncr staying. is he just following orders again? despite what happens at bitter springs (hopeful ending) he can't really let the idea of the nation he grew up with go.

so at the end of second battle of hoover dam, the ncr gets chased out (mostly). eli still doesn't really know where boone stands regarding the ncr, because for all his talk and bluster he doesn't want boone to dislike him for prying (which has happened already before). forgive him, he's got a big fat crush that won't go away on the guy. he's tired. he's hungry. he's thirsty. but all he can do is think, "boone's going to follow them back." which is when the picture above happens. he snaps back to his senses obviously, because what right does he have to ask something like that?

but boone stays. eli goes to talk to julie and he's there. eli sits at the tops in benny's workshop for days, programming and reprogramming systems for the securitrons and tinkering with finer motor controls and he's there. eli negotiates with the crimson caravan and he's there. eli is confused but yknow. what is he going to do talk to the brick wall of a man about his feelings??

boone sees what eli does for the people of freeside. even helps, sometimes, even though the only thing he thinks he's good at is killing. he thinks, is this what being better is? is this what amends are? but like a reoccuring rash he gets the Itch. thinks about the ncr. about manny. they could enlist back into first recon, easy. he goes back to novac to look over things he'd left there, things he used when he'd freshly left first recon, spends the night in his old room.

only he can't sleep. he can't sleep because he can't hear the sound of eli playing some shitty video game on his pipboy. he can't hear eli and veronica arguing over which snack is the best for the road, or eli tuning ED-E to different frequencies to see what he can pick up. he can't see eli going to the bathroom what feels like every 5 minutes because of his wacked out digestive system. he can't hear eli cursing as he tries to take off his leg brace only for something to get stuck, and then him rustling around for his tools, not being able to find the right one, and then jamming whatever he can find in the joint to get it unstuck.

so he goes back to new vegas, and when he sees eli's smile when eli sees him, dirty and sweaty from working, he knows it's an easy choice to make.

(yes they eventually do h*ld h*nds. when is that? i don't know. when IS that. someone tell me please)

after that eli and boone stay in vegas for a bit to get everything as stable as possible, even though it's an uphill, impossible challenge, and then i think eventually eli's curiosity would get the better of them when he's a little older and he'd leave to find different things to prod and look at with boone at his side :^)

[argisthebulwark]

As We Exchange Body Heat

summary: How they'd react to you asking to squeeze a titty. original request here! gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Vilkas, Balimund, Farkas, Brynjolf, Erandur warnings: non explicit sexual content, minors don't read or interact masterlist

If looks could kill, you're fairly sure Vilkas would have ended you by now. He looks equally confused and concerned - for the first time in ages you've left him speechless. "You want to what?" "Just one squeeze." You stare up at him, breath catching in your throat when his muscles tense. He's still damp from the shower, dark hair tossed out of his face. Barechested and glaring down at you, he's gorgeous. He rolls his eyes, arms crossing but you catch the flush in his face. Vilkas grunts something that's surely a half assed insult but you're hypnotized by the sight of him. He tries so hard to maintain that facade of annoyance but you've grown used to it. You both enjoy the banter. "Fine." He grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't see why you would want such a thing - but I will indulge you." True to your word, one hand slaps onto the warm skin of his chest. Your heart flips at the sheer muscle under your palm, fingers digging in to keep yourself steady. Arousal and the urge to annoy him further war in your mind, deeply enjoying both the feel of Vilkas flexing under your hold and the flustered state you've left him in.

With a chuckle, Balimund's gaze would wander to yours. One hand cups your face when you lean across the bed, not so subtly tugging the bedsheets down his torso. "If it'll please you, sure." He laughs at your excited leap across the bed, sheets tangled around your waist when you fall into his chest. He still hasn't grown accustomed to your deep appreciation for his body - he's always thought of himself as fairly average for a smith, but one quick look at him rouses a deep hunger within you. "You're so pretty." You groan, hands sliding up his chest. Balimund seems amused by your interest in him - pupils dilating when you grip his pecs, deeply enticed by the relaxed muscles so soft under your hands. "You're odd." Balimund muses, though he allows you to grope at him - under the shyness, he's amazed at the attention you still lavish upon him after all these years.

"Sure." Farkas replies easily, not wasting a thought over it. He's asked the same of you before, it's only fair. Perhaps a little too eagerly, you wrench his flimsy shirt out of your way and are graced with a generous view of his chest. Dark hair fans across his tanned skin and a tattoo curls just out of sight. You swear he's tensing just to entice you more but you can't be bothered to care. Shoving your face into the divot between his tits earns you a laugh but you swear you're in heaven. Your nostrils are full of his scent, pine and sweat from his morning run, and when you're fairly certain you could die happy he wraps an arm around your shoulders and flexes. The motion buries your nose further into his skin and your knees buckle, arousal shooting through your body. "You into this?" He laughs good naturedly at the moan poorly muffled against his skin. Your face flushes but there's no shame - Farkas' muscles are so delicious you're nodding, blissfully unaware of anything that isn't him.

"No." "Please?" "Only if you beg." Brynjolf smirks, leaning over the bar. You've both been drinking far too much and it seems the filters have slipped. Luckily, you can blame the angry flush of your cheeks on the ale. "Please let me see your tits." Your voice is pitched lower than intended but the hungry way he eyes you only urges you on. You've danced around this for far too long to back down now. "Just one touch and I'll be normal again." "Y'think so, love?" He murmurs, voice too smooth when he takes another drink. "Alright, ya promise?" "I promise to be normal about your tits, Bryn." You're practically drooling when he begins unbuttoning the front of his armor, a sly smile on his face at your obvious attraction. The Flagon full of drunk thieves isn't the most romantic place but when you see the scars crisscrossing his chest all common sense disappears.

"I cannot fathom why you would want that." Erandur chuckles, still unaccustomed to your blatant attraction. Your eyes slide down to where his robes part, old tattoos and dark skin nearly driving you mad. "My body is far from enticing, darling. I -" "Erandur I would defy the gods for your body." You interject, enjoying the way he stares at you. "I would do that for all of you, of course. But if you are comfortable, I have been fantasizing about your body and would very much like to indulge. In a god honoring way, of course." "In that case," he murmurs as he sweeps close to you, rings shimmering when he unbuckles the belt securing his robes. "How could I refuse such a kind request?" Touching him is always a religious experience. To you, there is no gods greater than your love - Erandur's head tilted back, the little sounds he makes when your hands slide up his bare chest, the shiver down his spine when your tongue traces his tattoos. Erandur is far better than any god, asking you for nothing and giving you everything.

[transcendence-au]

I don't know if anyone has asked this yet but I got confused by the timeline

the wiki says that the reincarnation blues arc takes place around 3012 and that torako lam was born in 3016

it also says that "bentley farkas and friends" takes place roughly one thousand years after the "reincarnation blues". is it just a time mistake or our local demon decided to play with the timeline?

Is it a mistake if tau canon is squishy and scrunchy?

Yes. Yes it is. Really it should be 4016

[miraakulous-c6]

My headcanon about what would happen if Farkas is in love with the Dragonborn

He would be really confused at first because he does not understand his own feelings

He would like to be at the Dragonborn's side even more than before, which he does not think anything specific of

But he does not understand why he feels weird in a good way whenever the Dragonborn looks at him, talks to him or just near to him

It is pretty obvious to everyone but him and the Dragonborn

Noone helps him out as long as it does not get out of hand

After watching Farkas becoming a nervous wreck and not being able to say a single word without stuttering Aela helps him out

Or at least she tries because with Farkas it is not that easy

He just gets even more confused and wants to do nothing but hide from the Dragonborn because while he still does not entirely understands, he knows it is more than friendship but cannot name it

It goes on and on until the Dragonborn takes matters in their hand and make a move on Farkas

Which still would render him to a stuttering, nervous and blushing mess but at least that's a start

And once he gets used to it then he will be more than happy to have the Dragonborn at his side

I hope it does justice to Farkas. I never did this kind of headcanon before

[mischasbongwater]

farkas x reader

warning: intense sex, vaguely fem-bodied reader but only if you squint

authors note: this is most certainly not my best work, just practice if anything but im still glad i finished it (emphasis on finished) and i wanted to share it and this felt like a good place to do it

(also for context this takes place after his transformation in the crypt that first time)

You slip into Farkas’s room as quickly and quietly as you can, out of worry that one of the other Companions might get suspicious. You carefully close the door, turn around—

—And Farkas is standing at the foot of his bed, in nothing but a loincloth.

“OH!” You yelp, throwing your hands up in front of your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“It’s fine, open your eyes. I don’t care.”

You falter. “Wh- seriously?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

Slowly, you lower your hands and look at him. He’s sat down on his bed now, arms folded. Somehow he still looks just as big and intimidating as when he’s wearing armor. You can so clearly see his muscles rippling beneath his olive skin, but you try not to look anywhere other than his face — or arms.

You catch the inquisitive look on his face and snap yourself back to reality. “So,” you begin. “Werewolf.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “It is a gift given only to those in the Circle. Should you want to share the beastblood, you’ll have to prove your honor.”

“Right.” You cannot stop looking at him.

“Truth be told, if you want a more technical history, you should talk to Kodlak or Vilkas. I don’t usually put much thought into it beyond the gift itself. But- are you okay?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You smell different.” He stands up.

“That- is so weird,” you respond, momentarily distracted by bewilderment. “What do I smell like?”

“Normally? Just you. But now…” He steps closer until he’s barely a foot away from you. It feels like his bare chest is looking you straight in the eyes. “It’s different. Stronger. Sweeter.”

You look up at him, eyes wide, feeling something you’ve never quite felt before. Dread and thrill both building up in your stomach, like white-hot balls of metal expanding through your abdomen. Sharp bursts of adrenaline spiking through your body.

“Are you interested in me, new blood?” His deep, gritty voice had a strange new cadence to it, like warm honey pouring into your ears.

You inhale shakily. “I- don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Can I answer it for you?”

You don’t even know if the word “yes” had left your mouth yet before you were in Farkas’s grasp. One hand is gently gripping the back of your neck, and the other is caressing the top of your head, weaving fingers through your hair. His rough, salty lips are pressed against yours, hard. You reach out and place your hands on his hips, closing the gap between you. He quivers under your touch, then melts into it, grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing his tongue into your mouth.

After a few heated moments, he pulls back, much to your disappointment.

“Do you want this?” He asks, his voice sounding much darker now.

You look at him, confused. “Wh-“

“The beast-spirit inside of me. He wants you. Bad.” He fidgets with his hands, showing the first glimpse of true uncertainty and nervousness you’ve ever seen from him. “I don’t know if I can keep being gentle like this. I don’t want to-”

“Farkas.” You take his hands. “I don’t care. I’m yours.”

A lustful spark appears in his eyes. He grabs you by your waist, picks you up with ease, and pins you to his bed, desperately grabbing at your clothes and trying to pull them off.

He seems as stocky and strong as a tree trunk, every part of him laying over you like this. He reaches down and pulls his loincloth off, then lowers himself down, almost completely immobilizing you.

His hands wander up to your face, lazily at first, then grabbing you roughly and once more pushing his lips against yours. His hips begin to thrust slowly against yours, and you feel his hardening cock sliding up and down against your stomach.

“Mmm… you smell so good.” His hands travel across your body, greedily touching every part he can reach. Your own hand begins to drift downward, but he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head.

“You had your chance to lead,” he growls. “It’s my turn now.” He pins up your other hand and buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting, forcing high, breathy moans out of your mouth. His movement slowly grows more desperate, and you feel the same.

“Farkas…” you say pleadingly. He lets out a deep purr and snaps his hips against you in approval. He raises his head above yours. You stare into his eyes, and he stares back, perfectly mirroring the burning passion you feel. His soft raven hair hangs down perfectly around his broad, rugged face. He leans down and whispers into your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin and sending tingles down your back. “I’m going to make you mine.”

Without any more warning than that, he grabs your hips so hard you think he might leave handprints, and he pushes his tip inside of you. You let out a shuddering gasp, your hands shooting up and grabbing onto his biceps for dear life.

He begins to push further into you, his thick shaft throbbing and stretching you out. The pain felt so good. A keening moan escapes from your mouth. Farkas closes his eyes, and you can see the muscles feathering along his tightly-clenched jaw as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

“Farkas,” you breathe out. “Farkas-” you yelp as he forcefully thrusts his full length into you. “Y-you’re so big…” you manage to stammer out. “Fu-uuck. Please, Farkas.”

He opens his eyes and smirks. He smirks at you.

“Please what, darling?”

“Fuck me,” you heave desperately, your nails digging into his skin. “Fuck me, Farkas, please, I-”

You’re cut off by his strong, meaty hand pressing over your mouth, covering half your face. He gives a firm but gentle squeeze. “Sshhh, shh-shh.” He purrs. “Can’t have you waking up the others.” He starts slowly thrusting again. “Or is that what you want? Does the new blood want all of Jorrvaskr to hear them whining like a dog?”

You can do nothing but squeeze your eyes shut, your whole body pulsating with the feeling of him inside of you. That white-hot feeling is back, even more intensely now, like a sun planted in your stomach.

“That’s right,” he groans, starting to speed up. “Good.” He squeezes your face tighter, his eyes closing again and his head tilting back in pleasure. His movements grow almost animalistic, shoving himself further and further inside of you over and over. Your body tenses up, vibrating with heat and ecstasy, his cock filling you up so deep you think you might pass out. Your moans are uncontrollable and muffled by his hand, while your own are nearly drawing blood from their death grip on his arms. He keeps pounding into you, grunting and moaning huskily, holding you solidly in place. Your hips snap back up in rhythm with his, your body twitching from the pleasure and strain. If not for him muzzling you, you would be crying out, screaming his name, moaning and keening in primal euphoria.

The ball in your stomach expands like molten metal, spreading through your body until it feels as if Farkas has filled every last inch of you. It builds and builds and builds-

Until he stops, hilt-deep inside of you. You squirm and cry out, frantic with lust and just on the edge of overstimulation from his huge cock. He hums smugly at your struggle, his face inches away from yours. “Look at you. Such a desperate little thing. You like being used like this?”

You nod, aggressively and pathetically. Farkas chuckles, and the deep, raspy sound of his subtle laughter is almost enough to send you over the edge right there. He shifts, taking his other hand and grasping both sides of your face, pushing his thumbs into your mouth.

“Stay quiet,” he growls, before continuing his merciless thrusts at the same pace he left off at. Without even meaning to, you clamp down on his thumbs between your teeth, letting out a flood of sharp, cut-off moans as he fucks you with reckless abandon. You almost can’t stand the speed and girth hammering into you, sending you into a state of complete, mindless hunger.

Through your feral haze, you see his bottom lip caught under his teeth, his eyes tightly closed, and his eyebrows knitted together. Then his mouth hangs open, and a small whimper escapes into the air.

The molten ball inside of you explodes, coating his length and squirting onto his thighs and stomach. You lay completely silent, convulsing and arching beneath him, consumed with bliss. You scratch helplessly at his shoulders, wordlessly begging, and Farkas complies, thrusting more sensually yet somehow rougher into you now. He covers your mouth again, and you allow the torrent of wild moans to erupt from within you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, every vein and ridge on his cock hitting you in all the right places.

Just when you think you might finally go unconscious, he pulls out and a thick ribbon of cum streams out onto your stomach. He looks to be reared back like a horse, holding tight onto your hips to keep from falling, head swung back as he shudders through his own orgasm.

Panting, he collapses onto you, practically forcing the air out of your lungs with his weight. You wrestle your arms out from under him and wrap them around his torso — or at least, as far around as they can reach.

“Fuck,” Farkas whispers hoarsely, enveloping you in his arms now and turning you both to your sides. You make a noise of agreement muffled by his chest.

“Are- are you gonna stay here?” He asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice. You make another noise, this one of more serene agreement. He exhales deeply and goes limp, pulling you closer to him. You were both far too hot and sweaty for his blankets, but not for your own skin against the other’s. Filled with contentment and… other stuff… you relish in his scent and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. You catch a glimpse of the moon from outside his window.

Who cares if he’s a werewolf, you think to yourself. Nothing could make me rethink this.

[specialagentlokitty]

Who I write for/Rules;

This is a list of fandoms and characters I write for (some may be missing) and some rules, if you’re curious about a fandom or character please message and I’ll let you know if it’s someone I’ll write for or not! If you’re looking for prompts please search the tag Lokittys prompt list

THIS BLOG IS STRICTLY NO SMUT DO NOT REQUEST IT AS THE REQUEST WILL BE DELTED IMMEDIATELY!!

Please if you’re requesting use some manners, say please and thank don’t demand I write something from you

This blog is for all ages, do not be hostile towards any member of this blog as you will be told to remove yourself immediately and if you don’t I will remove you, hate will not be tolerated this is a safe space regardless of age, sexual orientation, gender/pronouns, disability and such

If you’re wondering about a request you have but you’re worried or confused if I’ll write it or not or you’re just curious please reach out through inbox or asks and I’ll let you know! I write both romantic and plutonic requests for a wide range of characters!

Some things I will NOT write include; teenage pregnancy, smut(or related themes), underage!reader x older characters (these will ALWAYS be plutonic either a parental or sibling relationship). If you’re wondering about anything else just message! 💜

Fate the winx saga

- Saul silva

- Farah Dowling

Avatar

- Jake

- Quaritch/ recom Quaritch

Criminal minds

- Hotch

- Rossi

- Derek

- Spencer

- Jj

- Emily

- Garcia

Castle

- Castle

- Beckett

Lucifer (Fox)

- Lucifer

- Maze

- Chloe

- Dan

Greys anatomy

- Alex

- Derek

- Mark

Twilight

- Carlisle

- Esme

Harry Potter

- Sirius

- Remus

- Snape

Marvel

- Tony

- Clint

- Bruce

- Natasha

- Thor

- Steve

- Loki

- Bucky

- Logan

- Wanda

- Pietro

- Maria

- Phil

- Carol Danvers

BBC Merlin

- Merlin

- Arthur

- Gwaine

- Leon

- Percival

- Lancelot

BBC Sherlock

- Sherlock

- John

- Moriarty

- Lestrade

- Mycroft

Black butler

- Sebastian

- William

- Undertaker

- Claude

Supernatural

- Sam

- Dean

- Castiel

- Gabriel

- Balthazar

- Chuck

- Crawley

- Lucifer

- Jack

The witcher

- Geralt

- Jaskier

Brooklyn nine nine

- Rosa

- Jake

- Amy

The good doctor

- Melendez

- Shaun

Friends

- Joey

- Rachel

- Ross

- chandler

- Monica

- Phoebe

Teen wolf

- Derek

- Peter

- Melissa (plutonic only)

- Chris

- Parrish

- Noah (plutonic only)

Doctor who

- 9

- 10

- 11

- 12

- 13

- River

- Clara

- Rose

- Amy

- Rory

- Jack

Lord of the rings/the hobbit

- Bilbo

- Legolas

- Thranduil

- Elrond

- Lindir

- Thorin

- Fili

- Kili

- Aragorn

My hero academia

- Aizawa

- Mic

- Dabi

- Hawks

- Midnight

- All Might (Toshinori)

- Fat Gum

Demon slayer

- Rengoku

Tokyo ghoul

- Yomo

- Uta

Durarara!!

- shizuo

Skyrim

- Vilkas

- Farkas

Ackley bridge

- Mr Evershed

- Mrs Carter (plutonic only)

- Mr Bell

The vampire diaries

- Damon

- Klaus

- Elijah

- Finn

the watcher

- Ryan

- Shane

911

- bobby

- Buck

- chim

- hen

- Athena

- Maddie

- Eddie

Downton Abbey

- Thomas Barrow

- Anna

- Tom Branson

- Mary

- Sybil

- Edith

- Mrs Hughes (plutonic only)

Kingsmen

- Merlin

- Eggsy

- Harry

Bones

- Booth

- Brennan (bones)

- Hodgins

- Angela

- Sweets

Buffy the vampire slayer

- Angel

- Giles

The walking dead

- Rick

- Daryl

- Negan

- Glenn

- Rosita

- Carol (plutonic only)

- Gabriel

- Aaron

[bookishzelda]

In Skyrim I hardly ever sleep because I have the beast blood, but when I married Farkas and we moved into Breezehome together, I went to bed just to see if he would join me; and immediately the screen went blurry and the room started swaying, and I was extremely confused until I woke up in Astrid’s shack. Turns out I got abducted by the Dark Brotherhood on my wedding night.

[wolfclad]

For all his size and strength, Farkas is at the bottom of the Circle’s dominance hierarchy.  Even within the wider faction, there are Companions bold enough to put him down, and seem to do so without consequence. This is despite Farkas’ assertion that: “Some people don’t think I’m smart. Those people get my fist.”

We never see Farkas push back, not physically, not verbally.  Although he is frequently belittled by his comrades, he speaks kindly to and of them.  This is despite the fact that he and Vilkas were the youngest candidates to be granted the honour of becoming Companions.  I think it’s important to remember that Farkas has a proven record of serving the faction well and with honour, to the extent that he has been elevated to the Circle and gifted lycanthropy. Some interactions for context:

Skjor: “Farkas!” Farkas: “Did you call me?” Aela: “Of course we did, icebrain. Show this newblood where the rest of the whelps sleep.” Farkas: “Relax, newblood.” Torvar: “I’ve been hunting on my own for years.” Farkas: “Fighting people is different. Smarter.” Torvar: “Some of ‘em, anyway.” Farkas: “You only use the little swords.” Athis: “It’s called a shortsword, you oaf. It’s quicker. Sharper. And it can cut through a whale like a razor.”

It isn’t simply external.  Farkas himself has absorbed these opinions and is quick to defer to others. There is even a submissive element:

Farkas: “I’ve never been a smart one. But the Companions welcome anyone with the heart of a warrior.” Farkas: “My brother Vilkas is a better talker than me. He should be around someplace.” Farkas: “Too confusing for me. Empire, Nords, Talos. Who cares? Just tell me who needs bludgeoning.” Farkas: “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me. I do what I’m told.” Farkas: “You go if you want to. I’ve never seen bones this large, and want to make sure I remember them so I can tell the story right. Otherwise Vilkas will just say I was making it up.” Farkas: “I don’t like making him [Skjor] angry, but there is some work for you if you want it.” Farkas: “Aela said that you were hers. I don’t know what she meant… she scares me.”

Vilkas, at least, is openly fond of his brother, though he too makes mention of Farkas’ perceived low intelligence – “I love my brother, but his brains are not his strong suit” – and on one occasion, he appears to gently redirect his twin during a group discussion:

Aela: “And you avenged him.” Farkas: “Kodlak did not care for vengeance.” Vilkas: “No, Farkas, he didn’t. And that’s not what this is about.”

It is Kodlak’s journal that we see more positive descriptors applied to Farkas.  The harbinger writes:

Until we can pursue a true cure, the twins and I have chosen not to give in to the beastblood.  For me, it’s provided a clearer head, but Vilkas seems to be suffering a bit for it.  Farkas seems completely untroubled.  That boy continues to amaze with his fortitude. Aela is too solitary, Vilkas too fiery, and Farkas too kind-hearted.

But the journal also hints at Farkas being easily influenced, his tendency to follow his brother:

Farkas didn’t know what to think, but I believe he will come around with me and his brother eventually.  He usually does.

I do feel Vilkas is the first person Farkas turns to, that he follows his brother’s lead almost blindly – which undoubtedly puts pressure on Vilkas.  He trusts his twin to do the thinking for them both, to explain matters to him in a way he can understand:

Farkas: “He [Skjor] was the one I looked up to. I need to find my brother.” Farkas: “Vilkas says you’re the new Kodlak. I don’t know what that means, but you seem honourable, so that’s good.”

My perspective:  Farkas is someone who has been belittled over the long course of years, picked at like a wound until he has learned to make himself smaller, more pliable.  It is an insidious part of the culture of the Companions, and it likely started in the days of his boyhood – next to his academically brilliant and deep-thinking brother, Farkas was seen as lacklustre, witless. Like @hircineswrath, I believe Arnbjorn would have given both twins a hard time.  Furthermore, new recruits learn from established members that Farkas can serve as a verbal punching bag, that he will still think highly of those who demean him, because he considers them family, and he sees the best in everyone: “Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they are good people.”

Farkas is simply wired differently.  My interpretation is that he is a kinesthetic learner, and in modern settings he would be identified as dyslexic, possibly even as having ADHD.  In Skyrim, a medieval-esque society that doesn’t understand neurodiversity, he gets branded as an oaf, and icebrain, a fool.  Persistently told that he is these things, he begins to believe it.  Why else is one of his primary skills speech, and yet he rarely uses his voice?  He may not be eloquent, but he is emotionally intelligent and able to see straight to the heart of matters.  And through it all, he remains kind.

[mareenavee]

WIP Whenever~

Oh Hello it's ON TIME AGAIN!?

Hey. Anyway time tag ya'll! Are we writing like the wind this week? @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thequeenofthewinter, @thana-topsy, @kookaburra1701, @oblivions-dawn, @throughtrialbyfire, @polypolymorph, @archangelsunited, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @dirty-bosmer, @gilgamish, @elfinismsarts, @saltymaplesyrup, @inquisition-dragonborn, @snippetsrus, @expended-sleeper, @wildhexe, @rainpebble3, @nuwanders, @sylvienerevarine, @demonablack83, @viss-and-pinegar, @late-nite-scholar, @greyborn2, @skyrim-forever, @rhiannon1199 and YOU yes you if I've forgotten your tag, it's actually HERE, you just can't see it. Tag me back :> Do the thing. Write the words!

So for this week, we have finished the Raven Rock arc and moved on to chapter 31 (of The World on Our Shoulders) and our favorite bean is back getting into a Situation~

More fresh-from-the-braincells content below the cut! Some overlap with Arc things, but some new words, too :>

6th of Sun’s Dawn 4E 202

Athis dodged out of the way as a glass greatsword came crashing down from out of the darkness. He jumped forward and stabbed into the weak spot between plates of glass armor. The Thalmor shrieked and pulled a Heal spell into his hands, greatsword clattering to the ground. Both sounds echoed down the stone passageways. In the distance, Avulstein was shouting something incomprehensible, answered by the shrill death throes of yet another Altmer. He had to move. There was no time to faff around with theatrics. The rest of these n’waah would be converging on them like draugr any second from now.

With a sickening crunch, Athis withdrew his sword. The Thalmor scrambled to press the magic into the wound, to no avail. Blood bubbled up out of his mouth as the light left his eyes, guts pooling inside his armor. Athis frowned and flicked the blood off of his sword as the man slumped forward into the mess of his own viscera. A terrible, inhuman howl answered Thalmor screams, which sent a shiver down his spine. Such was the way it had to be, apparently. So much for sneaking.

If Thorald was still alive, he’d be in the dungeons. That would be below ground, the best Athis could wager. Northwatch keep seemed to spiral in a purposefully confusing pattern, not unlike a Nordic tomb, built backwards and lopsided, prone to collapse. He wondered if that was on purpose, perhaps to keep the doomed from ever finding a way out again. With a quick glance around at the cells, it seemed that was the case here, at least. So many corpses, shattered limbs dangling at odd angles, stored in cells. For what, he didn’t want to know. The Thalmor liked to look proper on the outside, but all he’d ever known of them was darkness.

They’d driven his wife away, after all. Even if that wasn’t the full truth, it was enough for him to focus his fury at them. He’d said it before. He’d strangle the life out of every single one of these bastards with his bare hands if it meant making Skyrim safe for her again. He glanced up at the ceiling once the flash of anger passed, the sound of dragon wings still haunting his waking thoughts. As safe as it could ever be, anyway.

He adjusted his cloak, annoyed at the stains blooming over the fabric. He checked his armor — none of the blood was his, thankfully. He was too fast for them on their best days. He tightened his grip on the Skyforged sword, knit his brow and marched on. The roars and and shrieks above him hinted at exactly the kind of fate these Thalmor had brought down upon themselves when they decided to take Thorald.

Athis would have preferred to get in here and get out without drawing so much attention to themselves, or without bringing the ire of the entire faction onto their shoulders before Thorald was safe. The fights could have come later when they were more prepared and not as outnumbered. But Farkas, being who he was, had shifted with the Moons and the low-burning rage he’d been holding inside for weeks. Aela and Fralia had told him to wait before trying to figure out exactly what had happened — in the end, it was more Civil War stupidity.

The increase in Thalmor activity lately had troubled Athis incessantly. He thought about how odd their encounter on the road home had been before Nyenna had run off. Jarl Balgruuf did his best to keep the roads of Whiterun Hold clear of them, but they crawled now like insects, swarming where they shouldn’t. All this after Tullius had made a point of encroaching on some fort or another. Athis hadn’t paid that much attention. After that, the chaos had started to get more and more uncanny, like inroads were being paved for these bastards.

[soulofamy]

Everything we know about Iska Act and Zwei

Ever since the end of season 2, a topic that has sparked the most conversation and speculation for the story going forward was initiated by the introduction of Iska Acht in Setsuka’s and Hwang’s soul chronicles, and in Nightmare’s interludes. There is much about her that we can already reasonably argue just based on looking at her or just by following the story presented in season 2. For example, our eyes are immediately drawn to the crescent-shaped tattoo on her neck that resembles that of the one on Zwei’s chest. We also know that she is aligned with Soul Edge. But more interestingly, we can see by their shared first names and by the vague references she makes to Siegfried in Nightmare’s Interludes that she has a connection to the antagonist Iska Farkas from Soulcalibur: Legends. However, despite Acht’s biography in the character compendium explaining where exactly she comes from and what her purpose is, the fandom understandably has been very confused as to how she and Farkas are tied together.

The prevailing theory that has been circulating is that Acht IS Farkas, but that Farkas had simply been genderswapped for this new timeline. However, after having taken much time to try and analyze the bio we were provided with, I was able to decipher the admittedly very confusing language that was used. And my hope today is to break down the bio for everyone so that you all can understand it as well. I believe that this background information is very important to understand because of the doors that it opens for the narrative going forward. Here is my breakdown of what Acht’s bio means. I will divide her verbatim bio up into sections and then follow each section up with a simplified explanation:

“Deep inside the cursed sword lies the so-called "mind" of Soul Edge, a formless maelstrom of souls who fell prey to the weapon. It is here that "they" were born—amalgamations of souls once possessed by the sword given form. Though "they" shared a collective consciousness, "they" each represented different souls. For some time, "they" wandered the inner world of the sword as neither men nor beasts. However, with a fracture of the cursed sword at the end of the 16th century, one being was awash with purpose. It formed into a silver-haired boy, and entered the warped mind of the swordsman carrying the blade. It is there that he latched on to the man's desires and forced him to wield Soul Edge with reckless abandon in the hopes that he would harvest more souls for the blade.”

It’s explained here that the souls that were once possessed by Soul Edge would form groups together and each group would have a single shared consciousness while still being made up of distinct individual souls. One of these groups of souls was given a purpose after Sophitia shattered one of Cervantes’s swords. That group of souls became known as Iska Farkas. Iska Farkas was the one who compelled Siegfried to take up the leftover sword after Cervantes’s defeat. For reasons I will get into shortly, I am interpreting this as having all happened from within Siegfried’s mind. Iska Farkas was not a physical being who actually traveled throughout Europe with Siegfried, Farkas’s “companionship” was all inside Siegfried’s head with the single purpose of getting Siegfried to collect souls

“Afterward, the cursed sword suffered a setback: its favored host would be bested by the spirit sword, and the cursed sword itself would be rendered into several fragments. It was then that "they" who wandered the world of chaos would find purpose once again, though not as one, but as many. "They" would have earthly vessels to house their once ethereal forms and allow them to traverse the outside world. Though "they" possess no ability to fight in the outside world, "they" can make use of Astral Chaos, and work in the shadows to "pair" with malfested and assist (or manipulate) them. "They" serve as shepherds of sorts to powerful malfested with sword-based monikers, herding them into conflicts across the land that will reap souls and revive the cursed sword.”

Here, we are jumping forward in time. Siegfried had already taken up Soul Edge as his weapon, now we are at the point in time after Xianghua defeated Inferno. Soul Edge has gone into damage control mode, considering that it once again has been shattered. How does it decide it wants to remedy this? It brings the amalgamation of souls known as Iska Farkas forth into the physical plane. However instead of bringing forth Farkas as he is, as a single being, each individual soul that comprised him is allowed to become their own being. Going back to the point I made before where I explained that I was led to believe Farkas’s interactions with Siegfried were all inside Siegfried’s head, I want to now draw your attention to the language that is being used now in contrast. It is only now that Xianghua has shattered the sword again that “they would have earthly vessels to house their once ethereal forms and allow them to traverse the outside world.” Whereas before, where their duties could be fulfilled simply by infiltrating Siegfried’s mind from afar, now they actually need to be out and about so that they can bring back the Soul Edge shards and resurrect Soul Edge. They are given vessels in order to accomplish this, as well as elite malfested to be their partners. These elite malfested are given titles that are based on swords, and they are being shepherded by these souls.

“The being known as "Acht" (meaning "eight") appears as a little girl, and has been seen in the Ming Empire, Korea, and Japan. Paired with the malfested known as the "Sword of Cursed Flames", she also attempts to manipulate other powerful warriors into joining the ranks of the malfested. Given her name, it naturally follows that there are at least six other beings like her—those numbered two to seven. Should they all find the malfested with whom they seek to "pair", then it follows that there exist seven "sword malfested" in Nightmare's new dark force…”

This paragraph is fairly self explanatory, as it essentially describes the things we have seen in the Soul Chronicles. But now, with this whole bio having been interpreted, it should be understood that Iska Acht is not a genderswapped Iska Farkas. Instead, she is only a portion of his consciousness, one-seventh of it to be precise.

We have very little information on all the souls that made up Farkas. So far, only three of them have been mentioned by name in the story: Acht, Vier, and Sechs. Zwei is not mentioned in the story, but he is mentioned in the character compendium. Acht we can see is clearly a child, and while we don’t know what Vier and Zwei look like yet, they are both described in the character compendium as children as well.

Zwei is mentioned here briefly in Durer's "Greatblade" bio

Though she is not named, you can read abour Curtis's first encounter with Vier here

There is currently no description of Sechs.

Acht, as we know, is partnered with Won “Sword of Cursed Flames” Gobak. Zwei is partnered with Johan “Greatblade” Durer. And Vier is partnered up with Curtis, otherwise known as “Sword of the Inquisitor.”

There are many doors that this explanation can open and many questions that it could raise. One question that I had while reading this and trying to make sense of it is “where did each of them get their vessels from to walk the earth?” I personally wasn’t sure I liked the idea of Zwei, a character I enjoy quite a bit, possessing a dead body or anything equally as morbid. So I took time to research Iska Farkas. And it turned out that Iska Farkas has quite the experience with creating homunculi, and he even used one to resurrect his sister. With the idea that Legends potentially only happened in Siegfried’s head, it is hard to know what would and wouldn’t be canon. However, I think it would make sense if each soul was given a homunculus in order to become a physical being.

Another question I had was what this would all mean for Zwei going forward? Surely with this complete and total rewrite of his background, he will more or less be a shadow of the character he was in the old timeline, right? Well based on some information we are given in the Soulcalibur 6 character compendium, I believe that not only will Zwei still receive his wolf-spirit Ein, but they will actually be giving us a compelling explanation for what, or who, Ein is.

Soulcalibur 5’s artbook did sort of address what Ein was

but it more or less just said that Zwei didn’t know where he came from or why he decided to try and help Zwei in his time of need. Ein’s origin was left completely up in the air. But now fast forward to Soulcalibur 6. I believe we are actually given a description in the character compendium that matches Ein.

This description of The Wolf, Hilde’s ancestor, physically matches what we know Ein looks like. And if we can all recall from Hilde’s soul chronicle, Hilde grew up knowing Durer, and Durer is Zwei’s partner. We can see that the groundwork is already set, especially if you consider that this could potentially mean that Zwei has already spent a great deal of time in Wolfkrone, which is where The Wolf’s spirit has been allegedly spotted.

But what does this have to do with Iska Farkas? Well we have established already that ALL the shepherds when combined into one consciousness make up Iska Farkas. Meaning that, just like Iska Acht is one-seventh of Farkas’s identity, so is Zwei. Iska Farkas was a character said to be from Hungary. And if you translate the name Farkas from Hungarian into English, you will see that Farkas means wolf. Not to mention that in Acht’s bio, we are given confirmation that there is no shepherd who is called Ein, which is the German word for “one”. The shepherds start at Zwei, the German word for “two”. Even before we have had a chance to meet our new timeline version of Zwei, we already can see that he is surrounded by wolf motifs and wolf imagery.

This is all speculation. But as we could see, this information about Iska Farkas that hadn’t really been considered before opens up a vast array of possibilities and questions that we are all very interested in getting the answers to. I hope that everything I had to say makes sense and helped you all to understand the story a little better. I am excited to hear what different directions people think the story will take now after having discussed this.

[delafiseaseses]

So, from the poll I did Tapper is very obscure (only a quarter of voters knew him) so let's do a deep dive into this King.

Now, this is a 'deep dive' so we am gonna be goin' on for quite a bit 'ere. Here's a courtesy read more.

Firstly where is Tapper? Well, here's a camera angle leaving the area with the Kings School of Impersonation.

Facing northwest from the Freeside blue bus door, down the street to a field.

Even at this range it might be hard to see Tapper, his dark clothes blend in with the night... I probably should've waited for the day to get these shots, oh well. T' compensate I've placed a red rectangle around Tapper.

And here's the brown-haired King up close, next to the Water Pump saying his ambient line "The pump is property of The King. You'll need to pay if you want a drink."

Initiating Dialogue with Tapper

Initiating dialogue he reiterates this fact to you. "The King controls the water pump. If you want water, you need to pay like everyone else."

An' y'am given 4 options "Why charge for water?" "How much for a drink?" and "Can I buy bottled water?" (the 4th option is just a 'Time for me to go') We will do these options in descending order because that makes sense.

"Why charge for water?"

"If we let everyone run amok, the damn NCR would shut us down. Gotta have some way to regulate usage."

Now, this line isn't nessercerily a contradiction of anything anyone else says, but it is unusual. Nobody else ever references the idea that the NCR would 'shut down' the pump if it was free. In fact, let's get into this a bit deeper.

The Origins of the Water Pump Aside

Let's briefly talk about the origins of the water pump. It started as a Followers of the Apocalypse project as Julie Farkas says this "With the help of Bill Ronte, we were able to install a water pump just west of here, but the Kings quickly took control of the pump."

She also says "Bill Ronte installed that pump a few years ago, back when he was sober. It was a major improvement for the community. But lately The Kings have started charging locals to use it - and NCR squatters twice as much. That'll come to no good."

Julie's perspective on the reason for this control of the pump is part of her explanation of The Kings. I won't include the part of their origin, but she says this "They've done a lot of good for the community - but that seems to be changing. The flood of NCR squatters has been an affront to them. I guess that explains the situation with the water pump. Usually The King wouldn't let his crew bully folks around like that."

Now Julie specifically says she guessed the reason she gave for why The Kings are doing what they're doing. If Tapper is telling the truth here, it's possible he charges "Squatters" extra out of a misplaced sense of retribution. Which is fucked up, don't get me wrong, but its a reasonin' that makes some sense.

It sort of falls apart when you remember that Old Bill Ronte himself is a New Californian as Dixon the chem dealer explicitly says "Those fools are from NCR. I love seeing those squatters in agony. We were doing just fine before those shits came here and made a mess of things. We don't need NCR eggheads wandering around confusing things." (he's talkin' about both Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff here).

Now we don't know if Tapper is being honest and somebody from the NCR came and told The Kings to quit it with the free water, if Tapper is lying as justification for the takeover and the charging for water pump use to people he dislikes. Or if it is a mixture of the two. I don't 'ave any definitive answers 'ere. Water licenses are a thing, but that's mostly for the water of Lake Mead, which the NCR has claimed is theirs due to managing the pipes.

"How much for a drink?"

"Just a few caps for a good long swig." 10 caps specifically, and his "Don't get wise. We charge per use, so make that first drink worth the caps." Tapper isn't kidding there.

It was orange of 'no crime' when I started taking this sip, but as you can see its instantly red again. Still, keep the key held down and you can get as much water as you need.

We don't know if that's Local rate, NCR rate or a rate that applies only to people travellin' the area.

For completeness here's Tapper's "Never Mind" dialogue.

"Anything else you want?" Not a very interesting line, for a not very interesting option.

"Can I buy bottled water?"

"Sure thing." and the trade menu opens. Tapper right now has 12 Purified Water and 128 caps. He also has some 10mm cases which are free to grab if you want them for some reason.

And when I said 'Time for me to go.' Tapper, as a Yuri Lowenthal character, said:

"Later." I'm sure some of you can hear this image. Hahahaa. Antony's voice misplaced in other characters as is normal.

So we're done?

So we're done, right? We exhausted Tapper's dialogue, we're done with this?

No, actually, we're not done at all. This is Fallout New Vegas and this is a character I'm highlightin', of course there's more.

You know High Times? The one for Julie Farkas where you help 'Old' Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff deal with their addictions? We mentioned Bill's connection to the origin of the pump. Well, during the quest connected to the two Julie says this about Bill Ronte when we ask about him for that quest

"Old Bill Ronte is an exceptionally skilled machinist. He could fix the problems we've been having with Freeside's water pump, if he sobered up."

An explicit reference to the water pump is made with Bill Ronte. Not the only one as I told you in the origin of the pump (I could get screenshots of those two, but I can't be arsed).

After dealing with Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff we go back to Tapper. I should point out that this door near where Bill sits leads fairly close to Tapper's pump, just a little detail. He migfht've lived here back when he and the Followers installed the pump too.

Anyway, after finishin' High Times we return to Tapper and he has new dialogue.

The Reward

"Hey, you helped out Bill Ronte so the Followers worked out a deal for you to drink free." Tapper only mentions Bill because what happens to Jacob Hoff don't matter to this. I find it interestin' that the Followers apparently leveraged this deal for us, Julie doesn't mention this at all. I'm not sure if this means water prices will be better now in exchange for the help of Bill, but at least the pump won't break and leave Freeside waterless anytime soon.

Also that replaces his greeting, so any time you talk to Tapper he will reiterate this fact.

And, indeed, from then on drinking at the pump isn't 'stealing' and there's no way to give Tapper 10 caps for it.

Of course... the Atomic Wrangler and Mick and Ralph's both 'ave sinks that can provide one with clean water for free and are in places that're more convenient to reach, but its a nice sentiment at least, hey?

Conclusion

So, that's Tapper. He's a small character, it's very possible you never noticed he existed, but now you know him. I think the game is made more interesting by his existence.

[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.”

[argisthebulwark]

We Kissed the Stars Before They Fell

summary: just daydreaming about them giving oral. f! reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Miraak, Farkas, Brynjolf, Erandur, Vilkas warnings: explicit sexual content. minors should not read or interact with this post in any way. not really proofread sorry gamers. masterlist / partner post - them receiving oral

Miraak is mean. His teeth scrape along your inner thigh and he laughs at your insistence that it's too much. Two fingers shoved deep inside your cunt he gazes up at you, shiny lips pulled into a mocking grin. Even when he's mean he makes your heart flutter. "Can't handle it?" He coos in mock sympathy. One hand wraps around your hip, keeping you from scooting away as his fingers curl deep inside you. "I think you can, my dear. I believe in you." He loves to keep you right on the edge of orgasming, enjoying the sight of his beloved spasming with each little twitch of his fingers. Only when you're seeing stars and pleading with him does he let you cum, hips bucking wildly and gripping your sheets.

Farkas is sloppy. His fingers clutch your thighs to his shoulders, nose buried deep into your core. He acts like he's starving, like he aims to devour you. He's moaning into your skin, tongue circling your clit and muttering about how good you taste. "Love you," he groans the words over and over, eyes fluttering shut when your fingers lace into his hair. Each swipe of his tongue drags you closer to orgasming and sweat gathers along your skin but Farkas feels too fucking good to worry about anything but him. "Cum f'me." He mumbles, soft brown eyes staring up at you. "Please, wanna taste you."

Brynjolf's hand keeps you pressed firmly to the desk, your fingers curled around its edge and bleary eyes watching for any intrusions. Shameless moans echo around the Cistern as he slurps at your cunt, one rough thumb tracing careful little circles over your clit. "So good for me, lass." He groans, placing soft kisses down your thigh. Sheer pleasure and the fear of getting spotted mingle into a confusing mess of arousal that leaves you quite flustered. "Don't go quiet on me now, wanna hear ya." "Bryn, we'll get caught." Your voice holds less conviction than intended, cheeks flushing bright red when his tongue slides along sensitive skin. "Mm, don't worry about that, love. Just keep your focus on me, alright?"

Erandur detests the thought of receiving pleasure without giving any in return. Even with his cock buried in your throat he insists on reciprocating, sweaty bodies sticking together while he goes down on you. For a man usually so well spoken his words have dissolved into a mixture of groans and dislocated praise. Messy kisses are pressed to your cunt while his cock throbs deep in your throat, your bodies tangled together and bedsheets tossed aside as you strive to make the other orgasm. "Beloved," his breath is hot against your overheated skin, fingers feather light where they trail over your back. "You don't have to - allow me to pleasure you, you shouldn't worry yourself over me."

Vilkas could die happily between your thighs. His eyes are a bit unfocused while he watches you ride his face, cunt dragging over his mouth as his tongue chases after you. He loves the way you clutch the bedframe to keep yourself upright, taking in every little shiver of pleasure that runs up your spine. "Vilkas." You laugh his name when he clutches at your thighs, refusing to allow an inch of space between you. "You need air." "Mhf." He grunts, burying his face deeper into you. He doesn't need air nearly as much as he wants to taste you, face already drenched and desperate for more. "Need you."