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mamadovie · 3 months

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𐙚 . . . CICERO.

A N: Hey, lovebugs. Not a request, just a silly little idea I came up with while listening to Stalker by Stevie Howie. As usual, gender neutral reader.

A B O U T: Cicero has always loved his dearest listener. But when does love become dangerous, and how far will Cicero go?

W A R N I N G S: Stalker and obsessive themes. Cicero is just an absolute freak!

There they are.

The sanctuary finally felt like home again. Their outfit: black, red, skintight, and stained with blood; it caused an ache in Cicero's stomach as he watched with heavy and dark eyes.

Oh, how he wished he could travel with you more often.

See the world with you.

By your side. Always.

His heart thumped at the mere thought of watching you, always, guiding you.

Needing you.

Oh, how he needed you. So bad.

Your voice, ragged and rough. Your blade is still wet. Your lips curled into a slow smile. You laughed, like music to his ears.

Wait.

You're smiling. Laughing. At him? The stupid Nord, the stupid initiate?

His fist balled up, his leg bobbed up and down in a violent manner as he watched from the shadows. Always in the shadows. Watching you. He had since the day you met. Since the day you smiled his way. Showed him kindness. You never joked about the jester. No, you liked him. You respected him. But you didn't love him, did you? Never poor old Cicero! Forever the fool.

You were so dumb! You. Are. His. His flamed hair framed his face as he ducked his head, eyes glaring with poison. He wanted to rip that bastards face off. Maybe he would wear it. Would you like him if he looked like Stupid Nord Man? Or would you hate him? For taking the man who made you laugh out of your life?

Why are you still laughing? By the Void. Get a grip. He's not that funny.

You touched his arm. Why won't you touch Cicero instead? He's softer. Cleaner. Smells nice, too! Cicero just... didn't understand. Why. Him. Why not the fool? Just once. Pick him.

Cicero had always loved you. Since the day you met. Actually, quite some time before that, too. He watched you that day in Whiterun. Oh, he felt so... Alive. Fresh into Skyrim and already in love? The Night Mother surely graced him with you for all the hard work he's ever done. You're a gift. His gift. Not that stupid man's. No. You're his.

And he'll make sure you'll never fall into the arms of a lesser person. Never. Cicero enjoys the kill. He's sure that the Night Mother would turn a blind eye... all in the name of true love!

#skyrim headcanons #skyrim x dragonborn #skyrim x reader #elder scrolls x reader #skyrim #skyrim headcanon #the elder scrolls #cicero x listener #cicero x reader #skyrim cicero #skyrim cicero x reader

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justheretop0st · 2 years

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Just for the Night

His voiced echoed throughout the sanctuary. How? She would never know. But she hurried for him. The blood on the floor wasn’t not a good sign. She prayed to Sithis that he would be ok. Alive by the time she got there.

She didn’t blame him for hiding in the furthest reach of the sanctuary. He didn’t know who Astrid would send. It explained why the guardians attacked her. She was the listener, but Cicero had likely told them to kill on sight. Possibly without a second thought that she would be sent.

She wasn’t there when he snapped. But she heard all she needed. How dare Astrid speak of the Night Mother in such a way? Especially around Cicero? She did not blame him for trying to hurt Astrid. She could only be thankful she was sent.

It took time, and Cicero’s teasing is what kept hope alive that he would be ok. At least he had not lost consciousness.

The second chain she pulled lead down a hallway. No ghost or trap. So she ran. Her steps echoing on the stone floor.

“And now we come to the end of our play. The grande finale!” Relief rushed over her as she pushed the door open. He was still alive. But seeing how he laid on the floor made it disappear.

His coughing was corse and wet, blood spewing from his mouth to the ground. He was shivering and wrapped up into himself. She rushed to him.

“You caught me! I surrender! Ha ha ha ha.” He was joking, he’d knew she wouldn’t kill him. Instead, she took him into her arms. One just around his shoulders and the other around his waist. He was pulled into her lap so she could better see his wounds.

His jester hat had slipped off in the process, leading him completely visible. His eyes traced her face. The concern and thought in her eyes amusing to him. Only because he couldn’t remember the last time eyes had shown any kind of love for him. Even as a friend. But as a lover?

He reached a hand up, and though it was bloody, he still cupped her cheek. “Dear listener, thank you for caring about poor Cicero.”

His voice was just as wet and raspy as his cough. Blood dribbling down his chin and to his shirt, but he cared not. He only wanted to stare into her eyes. “Oh Cicero, you don’t have to thank me. But please, hold still. This might hurt.”

Her hand glowed a brilliant gold and shimmered like a million gems falling onto each other. For a brief moment, he felt warm. A rush of pure energy that made him want to leap up and kiss her. But a second later, he felt the wound begin to close. He writhed in pain but her hand that held him steady, began stroking his hair.

He then remember he needed to be still. If not to be healed quicker, but to make this easier for his dear Listener. She had plenty to do for their dear Mother. But she had come to heal him. He didn’t realize his eyes were closed, but he opened them. His eyes met hers and slowly but surely, he was regaining his health.

Her fingers still massaged his scalp. It helped him ignore the ache from his wound. His eyes stayed on her as she focused on her healing spell.

Once the chiming of her spell stopped, he knew he would be ok. But why wouldn’t he be? He trusted his dear Listener with his heart. He was finally able to sit up, but once he did, she had collapsed onto the floor. She hadn’t hit hard but he still clambered over her.

“Listener? Listener are you okay?” He hadn’t meant to, but the blood that was still in his mouth had dripped onto her. Granted, she had a bloody handprint across her face.

“Yes. I’m sorry Cicero. Just takes a lot out of me to heal for so long. I didn’t want to risk-“

“Oh Listener you never have to apologize to Cicero.” He had hushed her. His finger over her lips as he laid next to her. He pulled her into his arms and placed a bloodied kiss to her nose. “I am always in your debt dear Listener.”

She smiled and rested herself into his hold. She never considered him in her debt. But always as her love. She would protect him with her life and she knew that he would do the same. If not because she was the Listener, but because she was his love.

Astrid would have to wait. She opted to rest with Cicero. Just for the night.

#skyrim #skyrim x dragonborn #skyrim x oc #skyrim x reader #cicero #Cicero keeper #keeper #cicero x listener #Cicero x dragonborn #Cicero x reader #Cicero x fem!reader #Astrid #dark brotherhood #cure for madness #dawnstar sanctuary #dark brotherhood quest

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aldruiel-scribbles · 5 months

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#skyrim wrapped #skyrim #the elder scrolls #skyrim dovahkiin #skyrim dragonborn #dovahkiin #dragonborn #skyrim memes #the last dragonborn #miraak #miraak x dragonborn #skyrim miraak #miraak x ldb

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leierkasten · 5 months

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my skyrim OCs and his future husband Vilkas🤓

#skyrim #vilkas #ocs #artists on tumblr #digital art #dragonborn #vilkas x dragonborn

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littledov · 9 months

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i did this instead of applying to college btw

#skyrim #dragonborn oc #last dragonborn #miraak #skyrim ldb #tes oc #bosmer oc #miraak x dragonborn #miraak x ldb #tes miraak #this is like my third time posting this bruh

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stellarsightz · 3 months

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joined a colour pallete collab on instagram, hosted by the lovely @/reilyntao <3

naturally, i had to draw my favourite skyrim ladies

four of wands: signifies celebration, harmonious relationships and is mostly associated with times of happiness and balance

(close-ups under the cut)

#frea skyrim #aela the huntress #dragonborn aela #aela x frea #aela/frea #fraela #tesblr #tes v skyrim #the elder scrolls #skyrim #my art #artists on tumblr #stellar.artz #i will make a nest in the fraela tag just you wait #please. please please please look at them #they make me so unwell (affectionate)#they are everything to me

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doshiiirak · 11 months

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gods the more I play, the funnier it gets

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feykrorovaan · 6 months

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It's always "wyd" and never

"So, the First Dragonborn, meets the Last Dragonborn."

#feykrorovaan #elder scrolls #tes #skyrim #tesblr #The Elder Scrolls #Miraak #Miraak x LDB #Skyrim Dragonborn #Dragonborn #miraak x ldb #miraak x dragonborn

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metize · 11 months

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Mate (AFAB!Dragonborn x Farkas

Rating: Explicit

Additional Tags: PWP, In Heat/Mating Cycles, Werewolf Mates, Companions Questline, PIV

Summary:

You were already pent up as it was, but seeing Farkas in nothing but his breeches almost sent you in a frenzy. As you walked into the room, it took everything in you not to bury your face on his pillow, instead you tried arranging his bed while he closed the door to his bed. You could almost see the gears turning inside Farkas’ head, you gathered he was probably smelling your pheromones and trying to understand why you were there. You tried not to stare at his bare chest and how good it would feel to run your hands through his abdomen. “I… I thought I had more time to prepare. Aela told me this would happen, but I…” You sighed, fidgeting with his pillows as you tried to adjust the bedding.

“Are you… nesting on my bed?”

You dropped his pillow. Right, that was what you were doing.

A/N: I didn't find A SINGLE Heat Fic pwp with Farkas. They're werewolves! That's the whole point of being a werewolf: feral sex. Anyways, hope you enjoy it.

Jorrvaskr was asleep. The night had draped its serene embrace over Whiterun, as the weary warriors found solace within their familiar haven. Farkas himself was deep in the realm of dreams, enjoying the peace of his unassuming chamber. Yet, the tranquility was abruptly shattered by a sudden and insistent pounding on his bedroom door. Startled from his slumber, Farkas jolted awake, heart racing in surprise with the sound of pounding on his bedroom’s door.

He was ready to assume the worst, a strategy that worked just fine for Farkas over the years; strike first, think later. He grabbed the greatsword at the end of his bed and readied his stance until he heard your voice from behind the door.

“Farkas, are you up?" Your voice was breathy, a hint of urgency in your tone.

He put his guard down, it was just you, the dragonborn. He respected and greatly admired you as his shield-sister, appreciating your company whenever you came back from your adventures. He trusted you with his life. He stored his sword away before opening the door.

Sure enough he was met to the sight of you as he opened the door. He was always happy to see you, almost forgetting for a second it was the middle of the night and you woke him up because you probably needed something. You weren’t wearing your full armor, instead you sported a more casual outfit that you used to sleep in, the sight was welcome to Farkas. Seeing you in a more vulnerable position was different, he was much more used seeing you armored from head to toe. It brought back memories from the first time you arrived in Jorrvaskr, full of questions, wanderlust and with a very unusual story to tell. Vulnerable in your nightclothes, yes, maybe that was why he was feeling a sudden overprotective urge.

“Shield-sister, it’s late. Did something happen?” He asked, his eyes darting around the hallway to check for any danger. That was when it hit him. The scent.

Your scent.

Farkas and the other Companions had a very strong sense of smell, it was normal for Farkas to recognize someone solely by their scent, but this wasn’t just your usual scent, this was stronger. Sweeter. And way more distracting.

“Close the door, I don't want to wake the others,” you said, making your way past him and sitting on his bed. You were already pent up as it was, but seeing Farkas in nothing but his breeches almost sent you in a frenzy. As you walked into the room, it took everything in you not to bury your face on his pillow, instead you tried arranging his bed while he closed the door to his bed. You could almost see the gears turning inside Farkas’ head, you gathered he was probably smelling your pheromones and trying to understand why you were there. You tried not to stare at his bare chest and how good it would feel to run your hands through his abdomen. “I… I thought I had more time to prepare. Aela told me this would happen, but I…” You sighed, fidgeting with his pillows as you tried to adjust the bedding.

“Are you… nesting on my bed?”

You dropped his pillow. Right, that was what you were doing. You blushed hard, caught off guard. This was your first heat, Aela had warned you about heats and how they worked after you had been turned. You had simply completely forgotten. You couldn’t be blamed, you had a lot to do as Dragonborn and your first heat was supposed to happen later, you were sure you had more time to prepare. You were always planning on talking to Farkas about it.

“I… guess I am,” you admit defeated “Farkas, I’m… going into heat.”

“Then you really,” his breath hitched, a low growl in his voice “really, shouldn’t be in here.” His hand gripped the door handle to ground himself, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.

“I’m here for a reason, Farkas,” you said solemnly, you got up and walked towards him. He shot you a glare.

“Don’t come any closer,” his voice was raspy and his commanding tone made you stop in your tracks. “I don’t know how much longer I can control myself with you in this state.” His breath was labored and his gaze was intense.

“Farkas I don’t want you to control yourself,” you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, regaining courage to walk closer and reach for his hand. “I want you to help me…”

As soon as your fingers touched his hand it sent a spark of electricity through you’ve been hit by a Chain Lightning spell. You didn’t even get to hold his hand, he grabbed your wrist and pulled your body flush against his. He leaned down burying his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as he could. You couldn’t help but sigh in relief at his proximity, at the sheer intimacy. You grabbed onto him like a lifeline, your instincts slowly taking over your mind, the wolf inside you screaming for more.

“Please… Farkas…” You muttered under your breath.

Farkas pulled you up by your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He dropped you on the bed, oddly enough the little organizing you managed to do added so much to your comfort level. Farkas was on top of you, his mouth was hungry for yours and you were all too happy to oblige, you kissed him back, running your fingers through his long hair.

“I don’t know if I can be gentle,” he admitted through gritted teeth, his hands undoing your blouse and groping your breasts.

“You don’t have to be…” You reassured him, his mouth was on your neck now marking you with his teeth as he pinched your nipples. You moaned in pleasure but with a hint of impatience, you squirmed under him pushing your hips up to feel some friction. “Please, please, I need you inside.”

He grunted before gripping your waist and forcing your hips down.

“It’s your first heat. I don’t wish to hurt you.” “I can take it, Farkas, please, my mate, I need you, need your cock,” you begged, your instincts completely overwhelming you with need. Farkas froze at your words before eagerly undressing the both of you in a rush.

You whined each time his hands left your skin, you felt feverish and aching with need. You were already soaked when Farkas pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust. You didn’t trust your voice to beg him again, so you tried to give him a pleading look hoping to get him to have mercy on you and give you what you were craving.

A broken moan left your mouth as he entered you with his length, Farkas seemed to be losing control, as you hoped, his patience and kindness giving place to his feral instincts to take and breed. He was fully in, save for his knot, when he started moving his hips fast and deep.

Your whines and moans were loud, you couldn’t help it, his tip was hitting deep into you and your body programmed itself to feel nothing but pleasure at this time. Your mind was completely gone, solely focusing on Farkas’ cock slamming into you with force and speed.

“Mine, mine, mine…” Farkas kept repeating and his words only brought you closer to climax, giving yourself completely to your mate to be owned and used to his content was embarrassingly arousing. “My mate… You look so beautiful, so needy for me, for my knot, you want me to stuff you full, hm?” You nodded rapidly, trying to let him know how eager you were without depending on your words, since you weren’t sure you could even string a sentence together. But that wasn’t enough for him, he pulled at your hair and growled into your ear. “Say it, say what you want.”

You whined, the sting in your scalp only fueling your pleasure, you looked up at him with an imploring look. “Farkas please, I want y-you to breed me please…”

He grunted, his pace steady as he looked into your eyes. “Do you? Then why did you wait so long to seek me?” He punctuated his phrases with deeper thrusts, making you cry out as he hit your deepest and sweetest spot. “Why parade around Jorrvaskr smelling this sweet and ripe for the taking? Were you hoping just any Companion would take you out in the hallway?” His voice was aggressive, possessive and it turned you on so much. “Skjor? My brother?”

You shook your head. “N-Never! Just you, I’m yours Farkas… Please!”

“Cum for me.” He growled and picked up the pace. You do. You saw stars when he reached deep inside you, the warmth of his body against yours and his teeth biting down your neck. Farkas wasn’t too far behind himself, his pace getting erratic and you could feel yourself yearn for his knot. “I’ll cum deep inside of you, my mate. Is that what you want?”

“Please… I need it, please, please…” You begged pulling him into another kiss.

His mouth devoured yours as he pounded you into the mattress, his own beast ordering him to breed you, to take you, to claim you. He thrust one last time into you, his knot plopping into you, locking you together as he buried his seed deep inside your pussy. He moaned against your ear, tugging your hair as you felt his breath on your skin.

You held each other for a second, catching your breath and letting the afterglow warm your heart. Farkas placed a kiss on your forehead and stroked your hair.

“I’ll take care of you, however many times you may need it, my mate,” he said, voice low and earnest. You hummed contently and nodded.

“Can we go once more?” You said and he chuckled.

“However many times you need it.” He repeated.

#skyrim fanfic #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim x reader #skyrim x you #skyrim x oc #tes fanfic #tesv farkas #farkas x reader #farkas x dragonborn #farkas skyrim #skyrim farkas

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herhighness-thequeenofhearts · 2 years

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Okay, listen-

Nah nevermind, I have no excuses.

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mamadovie · 3 months

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I left a rq on your old blog and idk if it was in your drafts or not so I'm just gonna send it again lol

[I think I left a request about Vilkas with an S/O who finds comfort in his heartbeat or something like that but I just realized you write for Kaidan and I wanted to know if I could switch it from Vilkas to Kaidan lol]

𐙚 . . . KAIDAN.

A N: Hi, lovebug! I do remember this request, I'm pretty sure you asked for a werewolf reader x non-werewolf Vilkas. But yes, I shall write this about Kaidan instead with a werewolf reader. As usual, gender neutral reader.

A B O U T: After a long and hard day, all you want to do is listen to Kaidan's heartbeat.

W A R N I N G S: None. Just Kaidan being beautiful!

Kaidan doesn't know about this little fun fact about you. He just thinks that it's your favourite position to cuddle in — with your head on his chest. He thinks it's about warmth and general comfort.

He loves to cuddle, he loves to feel close to you, and due to his height, more times than not, your ear will be placed around that region anyway, so as a werewolf with a love for the sound of his heartbeat, that's great.

If you're a vampire, you're... Well... Fucked.

If it's something you wouldn't tell him, maybe due to embarrassment of sorts, he'd probably never know.

The furs scattered the bed in a messy formation of multicoloured mountains that encase the limbs underneath — yours and Kaidan's. His big hands, scarred and loved, traced circles on your body, silently drawing the letters to both of your names like a prayer. How much this man loved you, only the Gods knew the fullest extent. Even Mara blushed at his thoughts towards you.

You noticed his heart would pick up in pace every so often, always as you would move your hands. To play with his hair. Trace his features. Line the markings on his skin. Where you kiss that place on his collarbone. You smiled against his skin as your fingertips absorbed the pace of his heart, how warm your stomach felt as his breathing slowed into a lullaby of deep breaths and tiny sighs. But as always, his heart still skipped a beat as your fingers curled his inky hair lazily.

Moments like those reminded you both what it meant to be alive. To have a heartbeat. To know he was safe. Okay. You held a lot on your shoulders, knowing he could die, all because he wanted to stick by your side. The thought terrified you. So these moments were everything. To fall asleep as you tapped your finger to each beat his heart made. Repeating the rhythm like a mantra, or a poem, maybe. The poem he'd write for you every night.

His hand reached over to yours, gently kissing the finger that tapped, "Can't sleep, love?" He asked, deep voiced and riddled with much needed sleep. You simply shrugged your shoulders, not keen on the idea of saying, 'I can't sleep if I don't take in each beat of your heart.'

Instead, you say, "Not really. You?" Your finger continued to tap, even as he held your hand. A routine, a habit. He hummed out, wondering what song you were thinking of. But instead of asking, he joined in, smiling in the darkness until he laughed a little.

"What song is it?" He asked.

You held back a giggle, of course he thought it was a song.

"Ragnar the Red." You lied, a smile spread across your face. You felt him frown. You were out of tune. He knew you were no bard, but surely not that bad?

"Ah, right. Love, never become a singer." He jested, you both laughed as his crimson eyes watched the ceiling with sleepiness.

"Nah, I'm more of a ... Poet."

"You're definitely something. Now sleep, long day tomorrow." He kissed the top of your head before shrugging his body into comfort.

As you planted a kiss against the bare skin that cloaked his heart, you made sure not to forget to listen as it beated in tune with your own.

#skyrim x dragonborn #skyrim x reader #skyrim headcanon #skyrim headcanons #skyrim #elder scrolls x reader #the elder scrolls #kaidan x reader #kaidan 2 x reader #skyrim kaidan #skyrim kaidan x reader

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justheretop0st · 2 years

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Rain

He hated the rain. He hated the sound of it, the smell of it, the feel of it. And though he prayed it never comes, the thunder rolls and mocks him. How unfortunate.

She was one in an era that truly caused change. It was evident at her funeral. There wasn’t enough room to accompany the waves of people who had come to see her one last time. It lasted days, almost a week of respect and reminiscence. There were things that he didn’t even know about her. This was especially telling of the figures in black and red.

The woman he had come to call his wife was a leader by nature. She lead her side to victory in the war. She ended Alduin, granted she had legendary warriors by her side. She solved the vampire crisis, having to split her own soul in order to enter the soul cairn. She became the leader of the companions, even for a brief period becoming the Arch-Mage. She had helped countless people. He was sure there was more, but there are always secrets that are best left to die with her.

The day she died, she looked more. More of everything. More like a leader. More like a wife. More beautiful and terrifying all in the same breath. She laughed and she seemed to glow. The breeze made her hair animate with life. With every ounce of blood in his body, he swore it shone in the sun.

It was quick and he was thankful for that. Perhaps he couldn’t handle it if she suffered. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have to worry about the last words he said to her. Because he swore to tell her daily how much he adored her. It might have been out his comfort zone. But even in his actions he swore to show her nothing but adoration and love. She deserved it and he knew it was likely she was to die at any point.

Being a renowned hero, she had enemies. A single moment of peace, pierced by an arrow laced in poison. Normally it wouldn’t have punctured her armor. But she wore a dress that day. Even into the night when she was being honored with a banquet. Ale, wine, mead and more was being served. How could someone have missed a person with an arrow equipped?

He wished he could have been more vigilant and maybe he would have had it not been for the drink. He wished his last words were more fine than a sloppy serenade. A declaration of known love. On his knees before her and he could feel the air push over his head as the arrow hit its target.

Panic arose in the crowd, they all ran to cover. But he stayed kneeled there, catching her as she fell into his arms. Straight through the heart, and she stared into his eyes. A connection. A final connection. She died with a smile on her face and her hand in his. But he felt to many emotions for him to simply sit there with her. He felt anger. Remorse. Sadness. He wanted revenge.

All he can remember after that is snatching a sword from a guards sheath and searching the building. Room by room, person by person. He was to filled with emotion, but nothing would get past him. He was told that the assassin was eventually found. That this person was taken to jail. But jail was not what the person deserved. For taking such a life, death would be the only repentance.

During her funeral, it rained for those days and nights. He couldn’t bear to leave her side as she lay there. Surrounded by flowers and gifts and mementos. He remained soaked and though there were others with him, he paid their words of condolences no mind. Nothing would make this better.

How he hated the rain.

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