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silvanils · 1 year

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a ward against the wind’s chill

a prompt fill for @nirnwrote

Relationships: Farkas x Aril, Aril & Vilkas, Vilkas & Farkas Rating: G Content Warnings: none! this is pure fluff!

This takes place fairly early in their relationship - not long after Farkas has started spending more nights at Aril’s place than his quarters at Jorrvaskr, and a while before Aril joins the Circle.

If you’d prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the story here!

Farkas awakened just after dawn to the warm, sweet scent of Aril’s favorite spiced tea drifting up from the kitchen. He couldn’t hold back a grin as he got up and tugged on one of Aril’s soft, fluffy robes — his heart felt warm and soft today, too.

Full.

As he made his way down the stairs, the morning light was starting to drift in through the cottage’s windows. One ray of light fell across the back of Aril’s bowed head, illuminating his snow-bright hair… and Farkas went still without even meaning to, appreciating the beauty of the moment.

Aril was sitting in a strange position, one leg curled up to hold the cloth he was working on — a grey-wool scarf, it looked like, still in-progress. He had a strand of yarn looped around his right-hand while his left was busy working with a hooked needle, growing the cloth a little more with each swift-stitch.

His lips quirked into a little smile as he glanced up from his work, his sky-blue gaze just as soft and warm as the morning sun. “Good morning,” Aril said. “I made enough tea for two.”

Farkas grinned as he made his way over to the stove. An empty cup was already sitting by the kettle, waiting for him, and as he filled it with tea he felt the joy and affection in his heart spill-over.

Gods, I love this man.

“How did I get so lucky?” he asked aloud, beaming as he turned to face Aril again. “I didn’t know you could knit! Is there anything you can’t do?”

Aril laughed, shaking his head. “This is crochet, dear. Ironically, knitting is something I could never wrap my head around. Two needles was too many for me.” He tugged more yarn up, sighing contently. “I find this work is more forgiving of the occasional mistake, too. I’m far from perfect.”

“I beg to differ,” Farkas scoffed quietly, taking a seat across from him. Aril was blushing, now, and that was absolutely adorable. “I mean, look at that! That’s amazing. I wish I could make my own scarves!”

Aril’s ears perked up just a little as he smirked, in the impish way Farkas was beginning to realize meant he was being coy about something. He arched one of his eyebrows and leaned in. “Alright, spill it.”

“This scarf isn’t for me,” Aril admitted. “It’s a gift. For someone’s birthday. Of course, I had made one already, but… I didn’t want the other twin to feel left out, so…”

Farkas blinked, the puzzle pieces finally falling into place. “Wait — ”

Before he could say more, however, Aril had paused his work to pull a neatly-folded scarf out from behind his back. It was made of grey wool, too, but embellished with little stripes of the lovely periwinkle-blue he’d begun to associate with Aril.

“Happy birthday, love,” Aril said. “I hope it keeps you a little warmer in these cold months.”

Around noon, Aril and Farkas finally left home and meandered through the Whiterun market as they made their way to Jorrvaskr — and Aril smiled each time his eyes fell on Farkas, taking in the sight of him wearing his new gift.

A ward against the wind’s chill.

It was an old belief his grandmother passed on to him: that there is a special kind of magic in the act of crafting something with your own hands for someone you love. Each step of the creation becomes a prayer.

Stay safe. Stay warm. I love you.

In his hands, those prayers do tend to become enchantments. Both the scarf Farkas now wore and the newly-finished one Aril had tucked in his pack had mild wards against chill and magic worked into them. After all, no matter what the nords might claim… Aril’s sure they are not completely immune to winter’s cold.

His own heart was warmed, now, seeing Farkas wear his gift with such pride.

“That’s a pretty scarf,” Carlotta said, smiling as Farkas perused her stand. “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” Farkas said, grinning as he gestured toward Aril. “He made it!”

Aril knew he was blushing, now — the awe and praise in that simple statement was too much for him to handle, and the way Carlotta’s expression softened as she looked at them, now, together…

“How sweet,” she said, chuckling as she passed each of them a fresh apple. “Here. These are on the house, today.”

The whole city was bustling with activity and the scents of baking — the last big harvest was well underway, now, and Aril was astonished by how efficiently the people of Whiterun were preparing for winter.

When Farkas gave him a curious look, Aril reached out to thread their arms together and smiled up at him. “I was just recalling harvest-time in Anvil. It was never this busy, but… winters there are milder, and the sea provides bounty year-round.”

Farkas placed one of his hands over Aril’s, and it felt like a promise. “Don’t worry,” Farkas said, his voice soft. “I’ll make sure you…”

Before he could finish, though, his brother’s voice rang out from the steps leading to the mead hall. “Farkas! There you are! I was wondering when you’d show up!” As Farkas turned to face Vilkas, he didn’t release Aril’s hand — and Aril, already blushing, flushed more as the way he was tugged along by the motion made him stumble a little.

Vilkas raised his eyebrows. “I see you brought Aril, too.”

“Hello, Vilkas,” Aril said, clearing his throat. As close as he’d grown to Farkas these past few weeks, Vilkas remained distant and aloof. Aril wasn’t sure how to change that. “It’s, ah, good to see you?”

“He has something for you,” Farkas cut in, gently nudging Aril to step forward. “A gift.”

Vilkas raised his eyebrows even more. “Oh? Really? Now this I must see.”

Aril reluctantly let go of Farkas so he could take the little scarf-bundle out of his pack. He’d tied a bright blue ribbon around it, but the soft grey-wool of the scarf was still clearly visible. Bundled up inside it were a few extra surprises — a book he knew Vilkas had been wanting to add to his collection, and a sachet filled with a herbal tea blend of his own making.

“Happy birthday, Vilkas,” Aril said, holding it out. “I hope you like it.”When Vilkas took it, he held it as though it were some priceless artifact. After he tugged the cloth open to see what was inside, his expression grew softer than Aril had ever seen it — and the resemblance between him and Farkas was undeniably clear.

“Thank you,” Vilkas sighed. “This is… very thoughtful.”

And as he draped the scarf around his neck, Aril felt as sense of calm wash over him, as though he’d finally left behind a rocky, turbulent sea.

Stay warm. Stay safe. I love you, too.

#elder scrolls #skyrim #skyrim companions #farkas x oc #farkas x m!dragonborn #farkas and vilkas #;Aril Silvanil #;Aril/Farkas #;knight writes #nirnwrote

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metize · 1 year

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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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ronkeyroo · 2 years

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When you just wanted to have a good time with your werewolf husband:

🕷️ NO!!!!!!!!!!! SPIDER BEGONE!!!!!!!!!!!! LEAVE FARKAS ALONE HGFDNHFDHGDSFN

#laughs #THEY WERE JUST TRYING TO HAVE A GOOD TIME #ENJOYING NATURE #BASED ON THAT ONE MEME I CANT FUCKING FIND CAUSE I LOST THE LINK GHNH #Farkas #MY BIG BABY #RAVEN WILL SAVE YOU FROM THE SPIDER #farkas skyrim #Raven #dovahkin oc #Raven x Farkas #the companions #jorrvaskr #i loved working on this so much oh my god #i love this big man #he's afraid of creepy crawlies and hes not afraid to admit it and that is very sexy #rip spider

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wildmelon · 1 year

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sims 4 taught me that no one does romance like a sex mod

#ur like ehhh do i really need it...#answer is yes for the hugs #skyrim #elder scrolls skyrim #farkas x dragonborn #farkas skyrim #sex ment tw #oc: mornraz dovahkiin #wm: chars

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necrophatic · 8 months

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#skyrim #doodles #inigo skyrim #farkas skyrim #vilkas skyrim #oc runa #runa deadcrow #vilkas x dragonborn

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cryptid-called-ash · 1 year

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Breyth: let’s play a fun game! It’s called ‘Sahrotaar or Vilkas’. I give you actual quotes I’ve heard Mira say, and you tell me if it’s something he said to his dragon or his fiancé.

Alduin:

Farkas:

Odahviing:

Vilkas:

Sahrotaar:

Miraak: I don’t like this game.

#mid grohiik #miraak x vilkas #miraak #vilkas #skyrim vilkas #alduin #odahviing #sahrotaar #farkas #the wolf twins #oc: breyth alarenzin septim #source: unknown #incorrect quotes #the dragonborn’s favour #double dovahkiin

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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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