#( really it’s molag whispering in his ear )

[endawn]

but no like pax genuinely considering doing the vampire ascendant ritual himself

[aladaylessecondblog]

Nerevarine & Friends (pt. 5)

So this fic is basically a collection of one-shots that serves as a backstory to the Skyrim fanfic. Mostly it's how my nord Nerevarine gets to where he is there. It can be found on my Ao3 page, "Aladayle"

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"The Ideal Masters"

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He had gone back to his old name, his nord name, and somehow that was enough to escape the notice of most Dunmer--outside of Morrowind, anyway. Save, perhaps, for Azura's most devoted.

He did not know if she was angry at him--he did not know if she was anything at all, for she had gone silent. Not since telling him he should leave Dagoth Ur to his ruin, and he had denied her, had she spoken to him.

So, he thought then, and now, I am alone once again.

Alone, save for the corpse strapped to his back.

No one would help Voryn if he did not. No one would deliver his body to a family tomb, no one would shed a tear, no one would spare so much as a kind thought.

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Molag Bal had demanded Vivec's suffering in exchange for the vampirism bestowed upon Voryn's body, and Sigurd had done it.

The man had seemed so infuriatingly calm on seeing him enter the temple, as angry as he was. Had given him that passive stare, and bowed his head as in defeat. Perhaps he imagined it, but he felt he saw something mocking him from those two-colored eyes.

There is nothing you can do to me that Molag Bal did not already do.

But still, he had been charged with this man's suffering, so he delivered it in spades. Vivec did not react to his strikes in time to do much of anything, but Vivec's priests, some brave enough to try and stop him--and then the Ordinators--

--the temple's floor would remained stained red ever after (or at least until Baar Dau fell), and he would leave with Vivec's soul stored in Azura's Star.

The Day of Blood, it would be called by worshippers of the Tribunal. The Day of Vengeance, it would be called by all others.

Nerevar, Moon-and-Star, Hortator and leader of Mer.

Godkiller.

Corpsebearer.

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Fool.

"You cannot be serious," Sigurd said, half-growling at the hooded figure before him. He looked briefly at the uncovered body of Voryn, laying on an altar between the two of them.

"We wish to return the soul to you, but you must understand--"

"We made a deal. Vivec for Voryn," Sigurd went on. "THAT was the deal."

"--the Sharmat must go somewhere," the hooded figure went on, as if they had not been interrupted. "Surely your soul can bear the weight?"

"We MADE A DEAL!"

"The Sharmat must go somewhere," the figure said again. "A spirit of such malevolence, separated from its source--we cannot tolerate such a thing here."

"You're reneging. Trying to double-cross me--"

He pointed Keening at the figure, who seemed more amused by the gesture than anything.

"Do you want his soul or not?"

"You," Sigurd snarled.

"There is no other way. Either you take this deal or we keep him. Forever. There will be no second deal made."

He had every intention of holding firm, told himself for the next few seconds that he would find another way if this didn't pan out, that--

One you betrayed was three times true!

The words rang in his ears, and there was a pang in his chest as the hooded figure began to turn away.

"Wait," he said quickly, "Wait. I'll take it. There--there will be no other changes?"

"None other, I assure you." they said, "Agree to this change three times, and what you ask for will be given."

"I agree," he said, and there was a feeling in his mind like a ram striking a castle gate.

"I agree," he said again, and the next moment a chill was running down his spine.

Last of all came a whisper--faint, feminine, pleading--don't do it.

He gulped, feeling his mouth to be suddenly dry.

No Moonshadow awaits me, he thought for a moment, And I will never see Sovngarde, either. What am I really losing?

"I agree."

The figure was gone, and in his own mind there was a rush, a flurry of activity, a ceaseless noise of bells--

Ah, Nerevar, we meet again! Bound together first by destiny, and now, by this curious arrangement.

Voryn's body stirred--coughed--struggled for breath--

Untethered by this mortal vessel.

"Nerevar!" Voryn called out, on seeing Sigurd's face. "What--"

"Voryn," Sigurd replied, his voice choked, "Is it--is it really you?"

"Yes, I...how did you--where ARE we--"

Sigurd did not reply. With words, anyway. He took his brother into a tight hug despite the whispering in his mind.

Voryn was home again.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

Oooo let’s go with 25, competition for Az!

Oh, now this is an interesting one. Sorry it has taken so long to get done. Life has been hectic. But let's get to it. This is part one. There will be a second one posted later.

"A competition?" Azirina repeated as she looked up at her husband and master. Molag nodded, a smug grin on his face.

Just a simple little thing to ease the boredom. You against I. He began, watching as her ears twitched.

"And, what does this competition entail?" She asked him.

It's quite simple really. Whoever can get the most residents of the realm to agree that they are the better leader wins. He explained. It wasn't so much a competition for him as a guaranteed victory. The entire realm feared him, they would never go against him. She seemed to think it over for a while before nodding.

"Very well. And what are the prizes?" She asked him.

If you win, you can have anything you want. Except for freedom from the chains. He quickly added when he saw her ears perk up. When I win, you will do everything I desire without complaint. She looked up at him before nodding.

"Very well. How long does this one have?" She asked. He chuckled, summoning a large hourglass. It was constructed from the bones of mortals, their wailing souls making up the sand within.

Until the last soul falls through. Begin. He grinned, watching as she climbed onto Vulon's back and headed into the realm. She wouldn't win, but watching her fight so hard was very entertaining.

At least, it had been planned for her to lose. What he failed to take into account was how different Azirina was from him. Where he threatened, she requested. Where he injured, she soothed. Her words were soft and gentle, her body language cute and inviting. The complete antithesis of him.

So, when the time came to determine the winner, he was in for a shock. The gathered residents stood before them, watching in silence.

Slaves of ColdHarbour! His voice echoed throughout the realm. Today, you were given a great honour by assisting in a competition between my bride and I. We will now confirm the winner. All those loyal to me, your Lord Molag Bal, step to the right.

Slowly, souls and Daedra began to walk over to the right side. The only exceptions being Brak'aath and Vulon, who he had ordered to stay with her. Once every resident had moved, Azirina spoke up.

"Now, would those who prefer this one as a leader come over to the left please?" She asked. Silence ruled for a few moments, Molag going to laugh as no one moved when, suddenly, several Daedra walked over to the left.

He growled, trying to recall their names so he could punish them later, when more began to move across. He watched, completely stunned, as the vast majority of those who had been gathered before him now stood before her.

"This one believes she is the winner, yes?" Azirina asked him sweetly. He snarled at the gathered traitors before looking at her, jolting slightly at the look on her face. She seemed concerned by his behaviour, almost questioning if winning meant that much to him. He made a sound of frustration before turning to the crowd.

It would seem that, despite everything, you have chosen my bride. Therefore, she is the winner. He grumbled, watching as she smiled. That was how she won, because she was adorable. He shook his head, dismissing the crowd with a wave of his hand. He was the prince of domination, he shouldn't find anything adorable.

"Husband." He paused when she spoke. "With regards to the prize you offered this one. She knows what she wants." She said softly.

What is it? He demanded, wanting to get it over with before he regretted this idea any further. She gestured for him to lean closer, so that she could whisper to him. He paused at her request before grinning.

That, I can do. He replied as they headed back to Heart's Grief. It wasn't what he had expected, but with her request, it certainly wasn't all bad.

Maybe, with the next competition they had, he would lose on purpose.

[daedricprincessorigin]

Hooooo I'm making it up as I go.

Dad!raz part 3

Razum-dar woke with the sun, carefully and slowly untangling himself from M'hira and the sheets, the little girl still sleeping. He put his armor on, practiced fingers fastening the buckles of the leather without him having to think about it. Raz went downstairs and retrived breakfast for the two of them.

When he got back, he quietly set the plates down and silently padded over to the bed.

"M'hira.... it's time to be awake and doing things, little kitten." He said softly, setting a hand on her shoulder.

All he got in return was a muffled grunt and his daughter burrowing further into the sheets and pillow, practically turning herself into a ball. Raz smiled with a gentle sigh. He reached under the sheets and pulled M'hira to his chest, picking the little girl up. She was very warm.

His daughter blinked up at him. "Mm-mm." She shook her head and pressed her forhead to his shoulder to block the light.

"Prr will find a frost mage if he has to." Raz teased.

M'hira glared up at her father, fully awake now. "Meanie." She grumbled.

"And a good morning to you too, kitten. Breakfast is on the table." He set her down to let her scamper over to the table, his shirt billowing in the wind she made. M'hira climed up onto the chair and started shoveling eggs into her mouth.

"Slow down! You can't come with this one if you choke." Raz said, sliding into the seat on the other side of the table.

M'hira froze. "She gets to come help you??" Her ears were pricked up and facing forward, as if by listening harder she would get her prize.

Raz nodded. "Indeed. You get to be an agent just as handsome as your father. And special agents of the Queen only get to be fast after they have learned to be careful."

M'hira nodded seriously, and began eating much slower than before. But she still finished her breakfast just before Razum-dar.

M'hira dressed herself as Raz packed his things and paid for the room, and led her out of the inn by the hand.

Neither of them said anything until they were inside the castle walls. His daughter was quivering with excitement when he turned to look her in the eye.

"You remember the stories your grandparents and Uncle Jokuli told you about the old Khajiiti heros?" Raz whispered.

M'hira nodded solemnly. "The ones who won by being sneaky and clever, right?" She paused. "Are we here to steal stuff?"

Raz smiled. "Only information. Which we steal using our ears, so we have to be very very quiet." He held a finger up to his lips in emphasis. M'hira nodded.

Razum-dar kept looking behind himself as he snuck around the halls of the stone castle, but he needn't have worried. Every time he looked back, M'hira was very carefully stepping only where he stepped, not touching anything, and the only time her green eyes left his back was when they stopped for a moment.

He managed to get the two of them behind a wall next to the room where the Covenant generals were conferring. He could hear their voices, but not clearly. He didn't see a way to improve that at all. "Damnit." He muttered to himself.

He felt a light *pat pat* on his thigh. Raz looked down at M'hira. She silently pointed up at a hole in the wall.

He smiled proudly at her, and moved towards it.

*Damn again.*

It was just barely too high for him to listen properly through it, and too small for him to try and climb up to it.

M'hira tapped his leg again and pointed at herself.

Raz shook his head. M'hira nodded and made a lifting motion. Raz sighed through his nose.

And lifted M'hira up to the hole.

The little girl didn't move from that hole, seeming almost a statue but for the occasional flick of her tail.

Razum-dar's arms had been hurting for a minuite when she poked her head back out and whispered, "They all stopped talking and left."

He set her down on the ground and shook his arms out to get the feeling back.

"Right. What did you see?"

"There was a brown human dressed in leather, her name was General Adaban. There was also an orc that had a really big beard that was dressed in silver metal armor, his name was General Gro.... Gro-Shakna, she thinks. They first talked about attacking a place called Bleackrock Island, and how that hadn't gone well. Then he said uh..." Her whispered recitation paused as she squinted in concentration. "Uh, 'perhaps then we should put our efforts to....." M'hira frowned up at her father. "What is full-kill guard?"

Raz grimaced. "Vulkhel Guard. You've been there before, but you may not remember."

"Oh, okay. Uhh, then they started saying words that this one didn't understand. M'hira thinks it was a different language. Sorry."

Raz hugged his daughter close to him. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Without you, this one would not have learned what he needed."

M'hira smiled. "She did good?"

Her father nodded. "You did very good. You have this one's thanks. And the thanks of the Aldmeri Dominion."

Razum-dar picked her up, and carried her out of the castle, and out of the city.

The first grand adventure of M'hira ended in sucess, with her father carrying her to the Queen as her littlest temporary agent, and a worried scolding from her mother once she got home. Ra'jaheeri was the hero of the dominion, the victor against Molag Bal and Nocturnal, but nothing of her adventures had scared her as much as her baby's adventure.

But to the Vestige's dismay, this was not her daughter's last adventures.

[ongoingaccident-deleted]

Character Death/Near-Death Experience

technically this qualifies as both of those things. remember when i said that a. ae got impaled at some point and b. she really needed to stop? because this is how she got impaled and also falls into the theme of she is stupid and gets hurt a lot. looking at it. it’s more similar to the bit i did for day one than i wanted (oops) but technically this came first, so. anyway thank you in advance for reading and i hope you like it! C:

and if you prefer, you can read it on AO3 here!

It was supposed to be a simple assignment, yet, as Darien had noted earlier, nothing that she was involved with was ever so simple as it seemed. She stood next to Queen Arzhela throughout the parley, and was glad for it when Imperials began pouring out of the three separate entrances to the small clearing.

And, she thought as another bolt of lightning flickered overhead and Pyreth howled, she was glad Rae was watching over them and directing the other mages.

Particularly when the Imperials didn’t stop coming. Wave after wave of them flooded from the gates, and it was all she could do to keep stray blades away from the queen, let alone go on the offensive.

Finally, they started to slow, and the mages portaled down to them to help get everyone to safety. And that was when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Imperial about to strike Darien from behind.

Before she could even think, she had pushed him out of the way and watched with wide eyes as the Imperial sword was pushed in under her breastplate and diagonally up through her heart.

The man who stabbed her was dead a moment later as Darien cut him down in retaliation, and then she was being forced through a portal before she could protest - she could see a fresh wave of Imperial soldiers coming, and she needed to help, but the thought was fleeting.

Everything blurred at the edges as she emerged into Evermore Castle, the queen ahead of her and the rest of the guard behind her. Relief flooded through her when she realized that everyone had made it back alive, and she sank to the ground as the world started spinning.

She’d done this before, and she knew how it would go. Overwhelming pain would be her sole companion for the next few hours, particularly when her body started to piece itself back together, and then she would be none the worse for wear. There were some benefits to having been sacrificed at the altar of a vicious Daedra, as it turned out.

So now she just had to find somewhere where she could rest until the bleeding stopped- “What were you thinking?” Darien was crouched in front of her, panic in his eyes, and behind him Ae could see the hazy figures of the queen, Rae, Gabrielle, and everyone else who had come with them. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, that was her king behind them. Great.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, voice thankfully steady, even as she trembled and it started to become hard to breathe. “I’ve had worse.” Debatable, but she thought it likely. The Lightless Remnant had done far more horrifying things to her body than a blade could do.

“You were stabbed!” He pressed his hands to the spots on her front and back that the sword had pierced, and she leaned into them as another wave of pain wracked her body and she tried not to whimper.

“Darien, she’s not going to make it. No healing spell can fix this kind of damage,” Gabrielle said softly, sadly, as she placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t listen to her.

“I’m taking her downstairs to the healers.” His voice was firm, as if daring anyone to argue with him, and he scooped her up gently, so gently.

Sound started to be replaced by white noise in her ears, and she knew the moment of blackness before the pain became overwhelming was coming. Over Darien’s shoulder, she could see Raewyn explaining what had happened to the High King.

“I’m okay,” she murmured again, leaning her head onto Darien’s shoulder (which was extremely uncomfortable with his pauldrons in the way, but relatively speaking felt nice).

He scoffed dismissively, but didn’t stop heading down the stairs slowly, trying to avoid jostling her.

His fears were fairly founded, she knew. After the fight with Montclair, when her body had been ruined by the Lightless Remnant, Verandis had sent her fading body out of the Doomcrag. She had been unconscious when everyone found her, and when she woke after what felt like hours of crippling pain, they told her how miraculous her recovery had been. How they’d found her with her pulse too faint to feel, but that she’d managed to pull through.

Aellai knew better. There was no way that she had survived the Doomcrag. No way that any mortal could have. But the whole “not-having-a-soul” thing apparently made dying (again) a little less permanent than it typically was.

She hadn’t seen it necessary to tell everyone else. They were all so pleased with her astounding recovery, and there was no reason to concern them or even to explain the particulars of her condition to those who didn’t know. It seemed it might be coming back to bite her in the ass now, though.

Darien gently lowered her onto one of the cots in the queen’s makeshift hospital. (That had been a change Arzhela had made while she was driving out the Reachmen. The queen cited a desire to still help, but it was easier to do so if the injured were in the castle so petitioners and advisors could find her when she was needed.) She could hear him arguing with one of the healers, but the words were too muddied to make out.

After a minute, the din faded, and he sat on the ground next to her cot, looking more concerned than she had ever seen him.

The healer came over, and through the blurriness, she made out the general gist of what the woman was saying. Wound too great, death inevitable, nothing she could do about it.

Darien seemed about to argue with her, but Aellai used the minimal strength she had remaining to reach out a hand to stop him. He didn’t say anything, just took her palm in both of his and avoided her eyes. “Please stay,” she whispered, and he squeezed her hand in what she took to be assent. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

His chest heaved, but with his eyes downcast she couldn’t tell if it was a sob or a laugh. “I never took you for a liar,” he said, and as she shut her eyes, she felt his hand gently moving hair out of her face.

The blackness that followed swiftly after felt momentary. There was a flash of Coldharbour, a reminder of where she came from, and when it disappeared, she snapped back into herself with a painful clarity.

This was actually the more painful part, as she had noticed the last time this happened. Slowly, so very slowly, her body began to force itself back together.

She stifled a whimper as she clenched Darien’s hand, and he jumped but squeezed back.

Another wave of pain hit her and she groaned. When it subsided from a sharp, excruciating pain to a steady, throbbing ache, she tried to speak. “It’ll be a few hours,” she managed. “You can go.” He didn’t need to see her like this.

He started at that and pulled one of his hands away from hers and placed it on her back. She must have been unconscious for longer than she’d thought, because they’d stripped her armor and bandaged her wounds.

Seemingly unsatisfied with whatever he had been searching for, he sat back down. “I don’t know if you’re trying to say what I think you are, but I’m not leaving until this is over. One way or another.”

And, true to his word, he stayed. Occasionally, when the pain wasn’t too overwhelming, she heard him murmuring to other people, but none of them stayed very long. Only Darien, who alternated between holding her hand in both of his and smoothing back her hair when her face screwed up in pain.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and nearly ground to a halt when whatever magic kept her alive finished with her skin and moved on to stitching up her heart. She tried not to scream when the pain became blinding, but she couldn’t be sure if she was successful. Those moments were a blur, and they passed excruciatingly slowly. The brief respites she had in the middle of the sea of pain were spent alternately cursing Molag Bal and praying for death, and she hoped that all of the nonsense she was spouting was contained in her head - but again, it was impossible to know.

Eventually, that pain also dulled and faded into nothingness, and once Aellai was finally certain that it was over, that her body had finished piecing itself back together, she sighed in relief and dared to crack open her eyes.

The room was blessedly empty save Darien, who had removed his armor at some point and was staring at her, seemingly torn between relief and disbelief. “You know, I was going to be so mad that you died saving my life,” he finally said, and she allowed herself to smile as much as she could manage.

He grinned back at her and squeezed her hand with one of his as the other gently brushed away a stray lock of hair that was clinging to her face. “You really must have died and come back wrong if you’re going to start smiling now.”

The thought of laughing and rattling her chest hurt, so she smothered her chuckle as she tried to sit up and was immediately hit with a wave of nausea. Darien let go of her hand to help lay her back down on the cot. “Calm down, you were just run through. You need to rest for a while. Everything else can wait.”

She settled back onto the bed with a resigned sigh. “I must say,” she managed to get out through her hoarse throat. “That is never pleasant.”

Darien sat back down next to her head and frowned. “You don’t make a habit of being stabbed, do you?”

Ae shook her head, but that made everything spin. “Don’t be silly. But it’s happened once before,” she said instead. “Suffering an injury my body can’t sustain.” Words were difficult, but she managed.

He frowned harder. “It was the Doomcrag, wasn’t it? We all thought you’d recovered from the brink of death, but you didn’t. You died, but the no soul thing meant that you came back.”

Smart man. She didn’t bother trying to nod. “As far as I can tell.” Not that the threat of a permanent death would have changed any of her actions, either at the Doomcrag or here. People had needed her, and regardless of how much the recovery hurt, it was worth every second. Ae allowed herself a brief moment of sadness as she thought that she would have suffered that pain a hundred times over if it could have kept Verandis with them.

But there was no use dwelling. The time to invade Coldharbour was coming, she was sure of it. And when it came, she would find the Count. Until then, she needed to focus on the here and now.

Which was Darien shaking his head at her in what appeared to be a mix of awe and disbelief. “You had us all worried sick. I thought the High King was going to stick my head on a pike for getting you killed. The man accused me of having no chivalry! Me!” He looked a little exasperated at the thought.

Oh gods. She wasn’t particularly surprised, but that didn’t really soften the blow. She groaned. “He wouldn’t have. Not really. He’d just blather about it until he calmed down.” Her uncle was as predictable as he was sarcastic. Except a lot of people who didn’t know him well had trouble picking up on the sarcasm - which she was inclined to believe was intentional on Emeric’s part.

Darien grinned again at her. “I figured as much. Still glad you survived, though.” He paused for a moment before gently brushing her hair back once more. “I can’t wait to see the look on Gabrielle’s face when I tell her.”

When Aellai started trying to sit up again, he laid her gently back down once more. “I don’t think so. You need rest, former captain’s orders. The world will still need you to save it when you wake up.”

Ae knew how fondly she was staring at him, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Thank you,” she said with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “And thank you for staying with me throughout that,” she murmured as she shut her eyes again.

Darien laughed lowly as he gently removed his hand from hers. “I’ll always stay. What else are friends for?” There was a soft pressure at the top of her head, and suddenly sleep claimed her.

--

thank you so much for reading and i really hope you enjoyed!!! :D

[naernon]

for the ask meme (TES, obvs): 3,9, 13 (for naemon), 23!

thank you!! i wrote this all last night and i havent checked for coherency or errors so forgive me if it’s a bit scatterbrained at times (although yall should be used to incoherency coming from me ghhgfg.)

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3.) Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

someone said that they didn’t like serana and i was already sitting on the decision to unfollow them for other reasons and that. that was just the Final Straw.

but i think that’s it…? im so petty + impulsive (deadly combo) at times that maybe i did unfollow over a TES opinion another time but i can’t remember hgufuhfhxdfh

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9.) Most disliked character(s)? Why?

OOF this is a hard one, ill list the ones that come to mind rn;

molag bal. needs no explanation

darren guitar or whatever his name is. im sorry to anyone who likes him but i just.. can’t. he’s so obnoxious. he was toned down in summerset, probably because different people were writing him if i had to guess but in the main and daggerfall covenant questline? awful. his goddamn womanizing jokes at every second of the day was “kim, there’s people that are dying” at its finest.literally one or two “haha ladies amirite fellow man ;)/haha ladies amirite……… lady ;)” jokes can be.. bearable albeit still annoying but there was so much more than that. or they were so obnoxiously written that it seemed to be more frequent than in actuality, either way, darren guitar? 0/10also my view of him hasnt gotten better since someone sent me a rude ask about how darren had more personality than prince naemon in-game due to me joking about how i don’t like him and then subsequently blocked me for being irritated about the rudeness of the ask + the fact that im 99% sure they were the anon that appeared in my fucking inbox defending darren guitar every single time i breathed a single word about him

i completely forgot he existed until you listed him as disliked and now i hate him even more. that fucking. bard from the bannered mare. the one that harassed carlotta until you told him to fuck off. i hate that dude. always have

abnur tharn. mildly obnoxious with some amusing lines until you find out what he did to queen ayrenn like. small dick mannimarco joke is now renounced, little man. Perish.my view on Estre is Complicated because she’s a really neat character and villain and ranks as a favorite in the latter department but from like, a moral standpoint i loathe her.also while it wasn’t like. pelidil levels of shittiness i’m not fond of how she hurt naemon– but then again……. now that i think of it, i really don’t know what’d she COULD do other than keep him in the absolute dark until he inevitably gets caught up in the Shitshow otherwise. i wouldn’t suppose naemon to be 100% willing to join in her efforts or even keep completely quiet about them if she did decide to talk to him about it or let him know; and for all we know, she could’ve planned to do so eventually in some way– but the suddenness of the AD hero’s infiltration of the veiled heritance probably ruined any semblance of a plan she could’ve had. so on second thought, even from a “naemon is a perfect being and i will protect him with my life and loathe all who hurt him” standpoint, i don’t dislike her too much. let’s just reduce estre to like.. honorable mentions on my “disliked characters” list then lmao(also “moral standpoint” as if queen ayrenn is anything close to the pinnacle of absolute morality. estre is objectively worse on that front, though, so i suppose i still stand by that)

speaking of which i really… don’t like pelidil. again, moral standpoint. and “naemon is a perfect being and i will protect him with my life and loathe all who hurt him” standpoint. otherwise, he’s a neat villain and the quest in which you cut him down was one of the more impressive quests in the game IMO, or even in the entire game series. good build-up.

this is getting too long so i’ll cut it there, that’s all the characters that come to mind rn anyways hfhgdhg

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10.) Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

hmmmmmm

i guess if you view it in such a way, liking him is kind of unpopular– while there’s still a lot of those who even if not actively talking about him as a character, have praised his character/took his side/whatever, there’s also a good amount who don’t. not really in considering him a poorly written character, but rather from a (sorry to bring this phrase up so much so far) moral standpoint.

also, considering him in a semi-unironic “he did nothing wrong” way, which i do, is kind of unpopular– and i can understand that, in some ways. i dont think him snapping at the scene of the orrery was under his 100% control nor was anything subsequent, but there’s still the fact that he still is in an “i deserve the throne, fuck off” mindset in coldharbour, which, unless he’s STILL affected by the mantle and/or the orrery, is obviously a negative change in viewpoint compared to the “i’ll swallow my bitterness and remain loyal to my sister and the dominion, she is the rightful queen and i am just her shadow” you saw prior.

granted, i’d argue that even then, you have to consider the influence that pelidil had over him prior (as some have accurately put it before– whispered poison into his ear). especially with the fact that naemon’s quite young for an elf at… 26? around that age-range. i dont think altmer’s minds work in the way that, say, hobbits do, in that they age slower and this includes their mental capability, decision-making, etc.. (they obviously don’t) BUT, compared to an elf with more experience, there’s a bit of an… imbalance there. pelidil WAS the one who served naemon instead of the other way around so you’d figure the opposite if anything, but again, naemon = impressionable and emotionally vulnerable at the time.

anyways, got off-topic; my point was that naemon, when you consider the influence that pelidil and any other secretly heritance people that interacted with him, even when you use the fact that he still seems “corrupted” in coldharbour to frame him as bad… that ain’t it. there’s also the fact that he is being tortured, at that moment. big part of it. he PROBABLY isn’t in the right state of mind, to put it simply. but then again, i mean, one could still argue a whole “cool motive, still murder” take on it, so whatever. i dont know man ghfghduhbdfg

YIKES i rambled, holy shit. sorry. but otherwise, i dont think i have too many? there’s not much in the prince naemon…. sub-fandom, at least not enough to be able to render one opinion as unpopular compared to the next

(and i. Guess that headcanoning him as trans definitely has the potential to be unpopular. but i dont really talk about it or “enforce” it much other than off-hand comments that might imply such, drawing him with top surgery scars, etc.. so it hasn’t exactly been given any room to be considered remotely unpopular. haven’t gotten anon hate, snide comments, etc.. about any of it at all so it’s cool. but i’ve brought it up because… you know how fandoms are; if there was more to the prince naemon “fandom”, theoretically, it would be and therefore kind of IS an unpopular opinion. “does your arm hurt from reaching cassius” ok look, i just felt like i needed to provide one more unpopular opinion about naemon and i couldn’t figure out any other than that. but yes. yes, hurts a little)

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23.) Unpopular character you love?

unpopular as in commonly disliked, or unpopular in… amount of people that like them? with the latter, it’s def naemon. i love him with all my heart gfigufhgdugdfh but then again who didn’t know that

with the former… hm. the thing is a lot of characters disliked in this fandom are disliked with good reason IMO– nevermind. almalexia. not to open any #diskhorse wounds but almalexia’s one of them ghdfhguhg jot that down

and i’ve heard some talk that veya is kind of unpopular, what with the recent summerset developments? yeah, fuck that, veya’s one of my favorites. this fandom (or. any fandom lets be real) has an awful tendency to praise any goddamn male character’s flaws or “negative” depth as redeemable character complexity and something that can be looked past, and yet, you see even REMOTELY the same amount if not more character depth in a female character and they’re hated. pointing this out is nothing new but it’s truly just…. something to behold.

and on that note im just going to renounce my prior statement of “a lot of characters disliked in this fandom are disliked with good reason” that’s the dumbest shit i’ve ever said. or perhaps an addendum stating that it’s only applicable to male characters is more in order? or that it’s the opposite for male characters: liked with bad reason. or… liked with over-exaggerated reason disproportionate to the actual amount of depth, complexity, and/or likeability said character actually has, paired with hatred for female characters with the same amount of complexity. “bruh don’t you obsess over prince naemon–” Yeah And What the Fuck Of It

anyways moving on sorry i got distracted hgdfgyfgh. that’s all the characters that come to mind? disregarding characters that are unpopular in an unappreciated sort of way rather than a disliked way, i really dont have a lot

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salty fandom (elder scrolls) opinions

[booai]

Erratic (Felam ficlet)

It had been two weeks now.  They had reached Vivec city last night past midnight and passed out in the comfort of the moderately soft inn beds. Elam breathed in the salty breeze of the ocean before him. It was a brilliant and sultry morning of late summer. The faint smells from the fish market, the lively chatter of the town, it all made his head feel oddly light although his heart was torn asunder.

Fen had agreed to come with him. He had hesitated to ask, hesitated about many things. Oh, what a wonderful two weeks they had had indeed. Taking it all for granted is what he hesitated about.  

Elam had never planned to stay in Molag Mar that long.  His plans had been thrown out the window about day and a half after meeting the other dunmer. After collecting up his courage to knock on the door on the second night he got to know him. After a fortnight of deepening that knowledge in ways he had never quite explored or known possible before.  

And now he shuddered in self-doubt, leaning onto the railing of the canton, sun bright and askew above his head. What was he afraid of even? There was no promise, no expectation. He had simply suggested, and Fen had agreed.

To travel together. On his research journey.  A journey with no clear goal or destination in sight. That fact he had forgotten to mention to Fen. Not that he had even questioned it. Why hadn’t he questioned it?  

Elam sighed shakily, clenching his fists together before him on the railing. What if Fen thought he had only asked him to join him on the journey to Vivec? He cursed silently. Cursed his own awkwardness and ability to bungle up even the simplest things.  

He turned around, looking around for anything to distract him from his dreadful thoughts. Guards and canton tenants passed him, without even a glance. Acolytes paced back and forth around the Temple Compound, ever so diligent in their tasks. Even if his eyes would have found something, his mind and heart were completely occupied with something else.  

In his chest, there was a burn that made him anxious and fidgety. He had felt it for while now. Usually he could sit down and focus on a book for hours uninterrupted. Delving deep into the teachings in the texts made him feel pure and uncontained joy – but this thing, whatever it was, made it impossible for him to concentrate. Or to have clear thoughts.  

He breathed in and swallowed another curse. It was fine. All he had to do was ask Fen again, confirm that they had indeed had the same thought. It would be all solved with a simple conversation. Why he dreaded it so?  

This is what he hated – feeling entirely frustrated and foolish at the same time. There was absolutely no reason he should be this worked up about the situation. Elam straightened himself up and started stepping down the walkway.  There was no way around it, the problem, only the way straight at it.  

With determination he made his feet move toward the crafters market. Fen had left the room early, mentioning some business he had to take care of there. They had promised to meet around. The thoughts took over Elam again. Maybe he had indeed only agreed to come to Vivec under the guise of that business, whatever it was.  

There was a lump in his throat and the hectic rhythm of his heart matched his rigid steps.  A wave of gloominess washed over him suddenly. It made him slow down his walk. Was he prepared to hear an answer he didn’t wish to hear? He pursed his lips.  

Having reached his destination, Elam glanced around the market in search of a white head of hair.  They should have agreed on a time, the market was as busy as any trading center on a weekday morning.  Just as it was starting to feel like an impossible task, he spotted Fen. He was deep in barter with a grocer, only a few stalls away from Elam.  

He looked at Fen. His long locks of hair, his tall frame and proud, unsullied face. He thought of his gentle hands and playful mouth, his strong arms and warm chest. He thought of those countless silly things he had whispered into his ear at wee hours. How secure and good it had felt to tangle his fingers into his own for the night. He looked at him and his heart ached.

And then he thought – how could he possibly let go of something that had consumed him this completely?  

He wasn’t prepared, and he wouldn’t let it happen. Almost shaking, Elam stepped into his line of sight.  

Looking up exactly at the right time, Fen saw him and smiled. He finished the trade with the merchant and wobbled toward Elam with his arms full of things.  

“There you are. Didn’t run away yet, I see.” he said while walking up to Elam, who suddenly felt frozen in the spot. He tried to smile up to Fen, as naturally as possible.  “I went to find Maeri in the Refugee, but she wasn’t there.” the white-haired mer explained, still fumbling with the pile of apples he had just bought.  

“Said she’s been gone for days. So I had to leave a letter, and it took me a while to come up with enough insults to fill the paper.” Fen guffawed and kneeled down and resumed to stuff all of his purchases into one bag. It all fit, expect for one apple that he flipped in the air, caught and bit down on ravenously.

“Maeri?” Elam asked faintly, squeezing his hands together hard behind his back. Keeping his eye on the apple rather than the other mer.  

“Yesh.” Fen said, mouth full, in between bites. “Y’know. The one who owns the... shack. In Molag Mar.” he frowned for a second. “Now that I think about it, I don’t actually know if she owns it or anythin’.”

People passed by them, left and right, but Elam felt isolated and suffocated at the same time. He breathed out shakily, anxious to blurt the question out. The other mer was too occupied on his own to notice his nervousness.  

“So... she wants it back, or?” he asked, not really concerned with the shack at all.  

Fen looked up to him, biting the apple. “Well, I hope not, after what we did with the place.” he chortled with amusement.  Elam let out a feeble laugh. Fen stood up, flinging the bag over his shoulder, adjusting to its weight, but then let it fall to the ground again. He was watching Elam now, observantly.

“No, but I told her that it will be vacant again from now on. Seemed like the polite thing to do.” he shrugged, tossed the gnawed apple core over his shoulder and looked the shorter mer straight into his eyes.  

Elam’s heart thudded empty in his chest for a few beats. Then he inhaled-

“Y-you did? I mean- You want-” he jolted forward, in haze of over-exhilaration, grabbing the front of Fen’s vest in his fists. He let go a second later, and leaned away. Blushing, fumbling. “I m-mean...”  

“Want to what? Join you on your trip?” Fen filled in, lifting his brow amusedly. “I said yes, didn’t I? Isn’t it why we’re here together?”

“Yes. Yes, quite... right.” Elam fidgeted some more. “I just... wasn’t sure. Sure you had thought what I had thought, about journeying around and...”  

Fen cupped his face patiently. Elam felt his face was red hot under his cooler palms. The gesture should have calmed him, since he could no longer fidget in the spot, but instead it made his heart race even faster.  

“You have too many thoughts.” Fen said, now quite close to his face. “I’ve had some good times with you. I’m not about to let them end anytime soon.” he smiled and placed a soft, slow kiss on Elam’s lips. Elam instinctively brought his hands up to the ones holding his face. He was about to explode in the sweetness of it all.  

Fen leaned back, let go and slid his arms to pull Elam snug against his chest. Elam sighed in defeat and wrapped his own arms around Fen, only a little cautiously. He then proceeded to exhale exaggeratedly.  

Extensive blush was still covering his face. He was embarrassed and relieved. There, in the middle of a crowded marketplace, in the embrace of Fen, he felt so stupidly lucky to have it all. To have it all ahead of him and them. He wanted desperately to learn how the other mer felt, too.

“You have dumb thoughts! You are having them right now. I will squeeze until they pop out of your brain.” Fen squeezed Elam playfully until he complained. Then they detached and smiled at each other.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. I’m a fool. No more over-thinking. I’m just going to... let it be. ”

“You are forgiven, for being an adorable fool.” Fen smirked.

“But seriously,” he continued “let’s get going soon. I hate this place, I feel like the two-colored baldy is stalking my every move. ” 

Elam shook his head and chuckled, ignoring his casual blasphemy. “I need to see if I can find some books I need in the library.” He looked back at the cantons. Their stone shined like dull bronze in the direct sunlight.

“Remember, we can’t eat books. I bought some supplies and food for the road.” Fen squatted down and patted the grocery bag on the ground. “Some drinks too, of course.”

“Good... then I’ll go now, to the library. Meet you at the inn?”

“I’ll meet you alright.”  

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@siiliprinssi ‘s Elam & my sweetie Fen being dumb...... there might be many more parts... or then not :^)