#Maven Blackbriar

[technically-a-writer-technically]

Pinned Butterflies

Maven Black-Briar x Reader

Warnings: She's Evil, She's Maven Black-Briar. Not-so-graphic descriptions of a severed hand. Purplely Prose

_________________

It started with gifts.

An extravagant dagger with crushed rubies in the blade. A fine, ornamental piece that came on the mounting rack. It was an impractical weapon, but a gorgeous show piece, so you placed it above your bed.

The finest silk tunic, adorned in goldwork flowers that danced in the firelight. It went on the mannequin in the basement. A, perhaps, unfitting place for such a fine garment.

Ivory-gold jewelery inlaid with flawless amethysts. They came in a velvet box, and that box sat on your nightstand.

Then, the hand of the thief that dared try and steal the jewlery off your finger, with your jewels tucked safe in their fist.

You closed the box, and stormed from your house, bareing down on Maven’s door with a heavy, angry hand.

You were greeted by Hemming, who ushered you into his mother’s room where she sat at her writing desk. She read by candlelight, her reading glasses on the tip of her nose. She grabbed a handful of papers, stood them upright and stabbed, before grabbing another handful.

“I was wondering if you’d come, I though surely you must have gotten at least one of my gifts”

“You call this a gift!” You branished your box, the thief’s hand heavy at the unsecured side.

Maven placed another perfected handful of papers on top of her growing stack. “Do you not appreciate having your jewelery returned to you?” She says, innocent as a poisoned apple.

“You did more than that, how am I supposed to rid myself of this. A hand, surely even you know how extreme that is?”

Maven laughs, short, sick, and sweet. “He’s not dead, and for your jewelery you could be more gracious.”

“You want me to thank you?”

Maven hummed, “Is that suprising?”

“I won’t fawn over your groteseque display, Maven”’

“Fawn, no, no,” Maven got up, laying waste to your personal space.

The box fell to your side, nearly out of your hand as the weight of it resettled.

Maven grabbed your cheeks with her hand, nearly piercing your skin with the length of her nails. “You mustn’t put words in my mouth, be grateful, I said, that I returned your jewelry, wear the tunic I bought you, adorn yourself with my amethyst.”

“Or?” You asked.

Maven frowned, though she looked away from you out the window, then back to you. Taking you in, consumption, she was swallowing you whole. Her fingers tight at your face, sure to leave bruises, if not incisions.

“I’ve only ever gotten what I wanted, or …” Maven hummed, “Taken it.”

She let go of your face, grabbed your hand delicatly, took the box that she could open it, uncurled the fist, and she took your pearls from their cold grasp, and closed the box. She held your hand soft as a bear trap, that she could put your ring on your finger.

You held your fist.

“I could break it,” She said,

“I’m not afraid of you Maven.”

“Because I don’t want you to be, but I could hurt you”

“As if I wouldn’t win that fight,” You said.

“Would you?” Maven asked. “Would Lydia, would Lucia? Or even that boy … Aventus?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” You tried to wrest your hand from her, but she held strong.

“Maybe I wouldn’t, maybe Sibbi would, or the Dark Brotherhood. Tamriel is full of swords-for-hire, many with no qualms about getting blood and tears on their hands.”

You gave Maven your finger, and she pressed the ring on.

“If I’d known you liked pearl more than amethyst,”

“I prefer whatever I earned myself.”

“As if my attention is something given freely, No, no, my time, my effort, are hard won. In time you will come to understand that, much better than you do now.”

You bent for the hand, but Maven waved off your attempt, “Leave it, I’ll make sure my next gift is less …” She said, a tiny smile graced her features, it brought a chill to the air, “extravagent.”

“Good-Night Maven,” You said, tight, it felt wrong to say.

But Maven smiled, and let up on your personal space, clearing a path to the doorway. You all but run home.

You slammed the door behind you, throw your back against it, as if you body could keep out the influence of Maven Black-briar.

The next day, a fine set of pearl earrings wait on your doorstep.

Cross-Posted on AO3

[queenneso]

the baddest milf in Tamriel.. ya we regularly hook up in the jarless’ palace dining hall, what abt it?

[trisexyual]

rb and respond with your top unromanceable video game character/s that you think should have been romanceable

[beastiesandsundries]

*screaming* GUYS, guys, peeps. Idk if any of y'all play modded skyrim with khajiit child Maisha , but pretty much it adds an adoptable khajiit kid and she's adorable and my daughter. Anyways. I've been playing with @dawns-beauty Project Ja-Kha'Jay and I ADORE the design style for the Tojay-raht furstock, with that huge-eared Serval influence. Then I looked up Serval kittens and they're the weirdest little guys omg. Well, I can't mod worth crap. But I can scratch my brain goblins with my pencils all right.

BEHOLD. A BABY.

HER EARS TOO BIIG FOR HER GOTDAMNED HEEERR!!

[bethrnoora]

Ivarstead and solitude :))

Ivarstead - How do you feel about the Greybeards and Paarthurnax?

im kind of neutral on the Greybeards as a whole, in the context of Skyrim i definitely prefer/sympathize more with them than with the Blades bc the Greybeards are mostly minding their business. I love Paarthurnax though, I think he's a really cool character and I always enjoy when an ancient fucking dragon plays a major role in a fantasy plotline, especially when he becomes a mentor or ally figure. can't imagine going through with the quest to kill him even if I was more interested in the Blades quest as it is

Solitude - Who’s your favorite Jarl? Who’s your least favorite? Why these?

ELISIF NATION RISE UP...i just adore her, I think there's a really interesting angle to her in that she's been thrust into a position she's relatively unprepared for due to the traumatic death of her husband and is understandably unsure of herself and paranoid of all the eyes on her. which definitely people around her interpret as weakness as a leader but I think underneath that anxiety there's an extremely strong will and keen understanding of her situation

umm i'm mostly neutral on a lot of the others but honestly I fucking hate the Silver-Blood family so the possibility of Thongvor Silver-Blood becoming jarl in Markarth is like ew <3 die.

[ihatetheinternetandeveryoneonit]

I think if the Dark Brotherhood got the Pulp Fiction treatment, I'd be a lot more into it.

[bipolareffigy]

Three seconds in and I fucking love Storm.

I am now watching X-Men ‘97. For research.

Just for research, nothing more.

‘Twould be a shame if Deadpool & Wolverine led to an entirely new obsession for me. Such a shame.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Are we venting now? Oh boy here I go. People do NOT make enough OCs for their skyrim fanfictions. I understand in game the dragonborn is the only character you can make but you know what? The Dragonborn, the Listener, the Archmage of the College of Winterhold, and the thieves' guild Nightengale should all be different people. The cities should be larger and have more people than canonically live there. Factions aren't going to be choosing part-time leaders. Make more characters, guys! Making OCs is fun and you know it. The only hard part is picking which one gets to kill Maven Blackbriar.

Yeah, canonically the Dragonborn only does the main quest and the DLCs, so while the faction quests are completed, they're not necessarily done by the Dragonborn, Hero of Kvatch, Nerevarine, etc. It's ambiguous, and that's what makes it fun!

I personally have lots of OCs for different factions in Skyrim, and some with overlap.

Leara Rose-blade — main quest; Civil War; Dragonborn

Aurora Orianus — main quest; Civil War; Dragonborn

Jolinar Aren — College of Winterhold; Thieves Guild; Dawnguard

Artanis Felagund — Companions; Dark Brotherhood

Nixiel Veres — Solstheim (save for Dragonborn)

Phoebus Apollus — College of Winterhold; Bard's College

Sercion — Dawnguard (Volkihar)

And if one of mine DID kill Maven, it would be Artanis. Not because she's Brotherhood, but because she likes killing powerful political figures.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

hey josh! In your opinion, which nation in tamriel produces the best liqours?

I think I've tried liquors from Summerset, Cyrodiil, Skyrim, Hammerfell, an of course Morrowind. One could say I'm a bit biased in favour of the liquor from my homeland an they'd be right. If I can, I'll try to pick up a few cases of jasmine infused matze to take about with me. It's delicate but potent as all fuck! Just the way I like it.

I don't mind the odd whisky from Hammerfell an Cyrodiil is unrivalled for its wines. I think the Altmer know their way around a cocktail but there's a point where the subtleties get lost on me. Like somewhere around the swallow mark, yeah? Here I am talking about subtleties when I can't taste for shit!

I like um... judge shit on how quickly the drink takes to make me not hear Agro-Mcfuckhead's opinions an forget that I have any thoughts of my own...um...

My best mate is well known for his spiced Sujamma brew. Shit knocks me the fuck out quicker than anything else on fucking Nirn that doesn't come from Sanguine's tit!

I mean, I do kinda half own the business so I get a say on potency. Just wish the old s'wit would let me have the keys to the damn cellar!

Oh I forgot about Nords... no, no I didn't. Their drink is weak as piss an not worth the glass it's bottled in! No I couldn't give a fuck who Maven Blackbriar thinks she fuckin' is her mead is shit! Bitch should remember what my reputation is an hold her tongue... Um don't tell Sydari I badmouthed her main coin purse. Just...I don't know I just think mead is shit!

I don't pretend to not hold a bias towards my homeland, I think it's because I kinda miss the place, even if I can't go back. Matze will always be my drink of choice.

[trickstarbrave]

i actually rly wanna write steren meeting mercer frey. bc i feel like mr grandmaster of house hlaalu, defacto kingpin of the cammona tong (at least for a couple of months), would be incredibly unimpressed with mercer altogether.

steren: you all basically run the city. guards tried to shake us down for coin. brynjolf asked us to do a job in broad daylight. other members of your guild are operating in plain sight with extortion. everyone basically knows all of you are here and that maven blackbriar is funding you all. steren: by azura, this is the city famous for being the home of queen barenziah for a time. steren: an yet you all are.... living in a fucking sewer ratway and fucking up missions. mercer: how about you hold your tongue before i cut it out of your mouth, dark elf prick steren: honestly im impressed you even know how to use a knife. did you get this position through nepotism? i've seen children who are more convincing than you. you look like you couldn't find your way out of a cheap linen sack mercer: *vein popping on his face* get this brat out of this cistern before i paint the walls red with his blood

[lunadreamscaper]

VenturianTale P.I.E. x Skyrim Au. But P.I.E. Is a branch connected to the Vigilants of Stendarr. Except Johnny Ghost would most definitely use Daedra objects against the Daedra out of spite also he’s not a dumbass those tools are really helpful okay

Also the Dark Brotherhood keeps sending people to kill Ghost but obviously keep failing.

Toast is either a Thane in one of the holds and/or is related to one of the Jarls (maybe even the High King??)

Spooker joined the Vigilants of Stendarr and was assigned to do a mission with Ghost like once so now he follows him around whenever he gets the chance.

Colon isn’t even a Vigilant of Stendarr. He’s only now affiliated with Ghost and Toast’s branch because he was a mercenary (and/or carriage driver) that ended up doing the same mission together and wanted to be more apart of whatever Ghost was doin.

Bonus: Gavin is probably either apart or affiliated with the Dark Brotherhood and/or The Thieves Guild. And is probably a business partner with Maven Blackbriar.

LMAO what if Gavin is the one requesting the Dark Brotherhood to kill Ghost (if he isn’t apart of said Brotherhood himself lol)

Also Ghost used to attend the College of Winterhold but got kicked out. Probably he can’t read for shit and that could partially be the cause for : His spells and magic were oddly wild and out of control when ever he practiced, not necessarily because he was a bad student, he was just a danger to his fellow students.

And I feel like he got along with the professor that you meet when you go and join the first year’s in the beginning (old guy) and I’m sure he was sad to watch Ghost go.., for some reason. (Also I’m sure Toast was a student there as well…)

[toxiclizardwrites]

This is an old quest idea I had for Skyrim years ago. It's not finished, but the main idea is here:

Quest idea:

Maven Blackbriar and the Blackbriar family essentially have control over the thieves Guild. 

The player restores the thieves Guild to its former glory. But now that the money is flowing in, there are whispers that the thieves Guild no longer needs the blackbriars. Begin quest: Down with the Blackbriars

**If the player character chose Maven Blackbriar to be the Jarl of Riften, how does this affect the quest?

Possible quest locations/events:

- taking back Honningbrew Meadery

- Robbing the Blackbriar mansion

- Framing Maven for murder

- taking back Goldenglow Estate

[nightingaletrash]

Some of the people Lazahk recruits to the Brotherhood after the Emperor's death:

Aventus Aretino - her protégé. She picked him up from Honourhall and he was all too happy to accept the chance to train to be an assassin.

Uthgerd the Unbroken - she picked her out for her hot-headed anger and willingness to get stuck into fights. Uthgerd joined after being beaten in a fist fight which earned Lazahk her respect. She's come to enjoy the violent lifestyle the Brotherhood offers.

Ingun Blackbriar - chosen because of her alchemical skills, and accepted for the chance to spite her mother. It was also intended as a slight to Maven after their first meeting, as Lazahk meant for her to understand that times were changing and that she's not the one in control.

[skymim]

Without any evidence for it……. I bet Elisif and Maven detest one another.

We know from dialogue in the game that Torygg’s father was High King during the Great War and that Elisif is favored to succeed her late husband. There isn’t any indication that Elisif was ever considered an unfit match for Torygg, nor is there discussion of Torygg needing to do anything to inherit the throne. If Torygg was considered next in line for High King and Elisif was considered an acceptable spouse for him, we can assume Elisif came from some suitable aristocratic bloodline.

All of this to say, Elisif is likely Old Money. Her dialogue reveals her to be kind-hearted but naive, averse to risk and protective of Nord traditions, all traits which would put her at odds with a ruthless, profit-driven Nouveau Riche Imperial like Maven Blackbriar

[critter-in-skyrim]

Helping Svidi

Ivarstead was always a quiet little town, and as such, the Vilemyr Inn was usually quiet as well. Even when there were a handful of pilgrims stopping by on their way up the 7,000 steps, they often minded their own business. There was never much ruckus.

That’s why it was such a shock, when in the middle of the night, the door suddenly flung open and a beautiful young woman rushed in. She was barefoot, out of breath, her dress in shreds. Her long black hair was wet and matted from the elements. Her eyes were wide, wild, filled with absolute fear.

Wilhelm, the proprietor of the Vilemyr Inn, blinked a couple times to make sure he was seeing clearly, before he cautiously stepped out from behind the counter to approach the young woman collapsed by the fireplace. Her eyes, which had previously been focused on the fire, whipped around to train on him. The fear in her eyes seemed to blossom into sheer terror, and she quickly made a beeline for the door. 

“W-wait, don’t go!” Wilhelm exclaimed before he could stop himself. His words seemed to stop her though, if only briefly. “Y-you’re injured, you need help,” Wilhelm continued, gesturing to her bare feet, which were bleeding. She looked down as well, before looking back up at him, biting her lip. “I…I can help you,” Wilhelm said, pressing a hand to his chest.

She shifted from foot to foot, looking between him and the door. “Y…you don’t wanna help me,” she finally spoke, in a soft melodic voice. 

“I do, I do,” Wilhelm said, taking a cautious step forward. “Tell me, what’s your name?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she said a bit defensively, wrapping her arms around herself.

Wilhelm raised his hands slightly. “That’s okay. Just…have a seat by the fire, I’ll bring over some healing potions, some food…you like mead?”

“I’m a Nord, ain’t I?” she said, giving him a hesitant, grateful smile. He smiled back at her, before going to fetch the things he had mentioned. Returning to her side, he first handed her a healing potion, before a bottle of mead. He left once more, before returning with a bowl of water, some bandages, and a healing salve. As he bent down, the woman eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“You have to get your feet cleaned up, or they could get worse. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

“No, we wouldn’t,” she conceded. Wilhelm nodded, kneeling by her feet. Gently, he lifted one of them, wiping it down with a damp rag. With all the mud and blood gone, he could tell that her injuries weren’t too severe. Using his fingers, he gently spread the healing salve over the cuts, before wrapping the cuts in bandages. Moving onto her other foot, Wilhelm paused, hearing sniffling above him.

Noticing her crying softly, Wilhelm paused in his ministrations. “I’m sorry, am I being too rough?”

She immediately shook her head though, dabbing at her eyes. “N-no…”

“Well…drink up the mead, it should help with any pain you might be having,” he pointed out.

She shook her head. “It’s not that. You’re just…” She covered her mouth to stop herself from sobbing suddenly. “Y-you’re just so kind…I don’t deserve it…”

“I…well…” Wilhelm stumbled over his words, feeling oddly flustered at her words. “Thanks. But what makes you say you don’t deserve my help? What could you have possibly done that was so bad?”

She wiped at her eyes, trying to clear the tears away. “I…I pissed off a Blackbriar…” she admitted.

“Oh,” Wilhelm said, pausing briefly. 

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Oh.”

Wilhelm pondered what to say for a moment. Going back to tending to her foot, he said, “Well, good for you.”

She blinked a couple times, processing his words. “What?”

“They’re a shit family, the lot of them. Corrupt, greedy, evil, everything a good Nord isn’t,” Wilhelm said. “Did you know, Maven was trying to make it so I could only sell her drinks here?” He shook his head. “Anyway, I say good on ya! Anything to upset the Blackbriars.”

“Thanks,” she said. “But this situation is a bit more complicated than that.”

“How so?” Wilhelm asked.

She hesitated, but looked down at Wilhelm’s handiwork on her feet. She could trust him. “Okay, so…I was dating Sibbi Blackbriar. We were in love, about to be married when…I caught him in bed with Svana from Helga’s, and…are you following?”

“I think so,” Wilhelm nodded.

“Well, I caught him in bed with another woman. I was…so upset, I immediately ran to my brother to tell him what had happened. He…he decided to confront Sibbi. I-I don’t know the details, but somehow, things got physical and…Sibbi killed my brother.”

“By Talos…” Wilhelm whispered.

“Sibbi’s in jail now but…his family aren’t. They will see this as a humiliation, and they’ll send someone after me, if they haven’t already. Th-they won’t rest until I’m dead…” she trailed off, her eyes glazing over in that fear from before.

Suddenly, Wilhelm grabbed her hands, clasping them gently in his larger ones. “I will make sure that never happens.” He hesitated, an idea popping into his head. “Stay here at the inn.”

“W-what?”

“Stay here. At the inn,” Wilhelm repeated. “At least for a while. I’ll protect you if trouble comes calling.”

The woman stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why…why would you do this for me? I’m a complete stranger to you, you don’t even know my name.”

Wilhelm shrugged slightly, once again looking her over. She was a beautiful woman to be sure, even beyond the matted hair and shredded dress. However, that was not the reason he felt like helping her. “It’s just…the right thing to do.”

She blinked quickly, trying to drive away the tears of relief that threatened to form at those words. Patting her hands, Wilhelm stood once more, gesturing for her to follow him, before he paused. “Your feet... Would you…like me to carry you…?”

She blushed deeply at that, hiding her face behind her hands. “If…if you really don’t mind…”

Wilhelm blushed a bit himself, mostly at her flustered reaction, but did not hesitate to gently scoop the injured woman up into his arms, carrying her bridal-style. He took her to one of the rooms nearest to his counter, setting her down on one of the beds. 

“It’s not much, but…”

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” she said, tone genuinely grateful. “I promise, once I’m healed, I’ll find some work around here to do, to pay you back for your kindness.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Wilhelm said. “Just…focus on healing for now. We’ll discuss more when the time comes.”

She nodded. Wilhelm turned to the door, planning to give the woman some privacy to rest, when she spoke up suddenly. “Svidi.”

“What?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

“My name. It’s…Svidi.”

Wilhelm felt his heart warm. She trusted him enough to give him her name. “You have a lovely name, Svidi. I’m Wilhelm”

She once again blushed deeply, looking down. “I…should probably go by something else, now…”

“Just rest, for now. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” Wilhelm asked.

She nodded, starting to settle into the bed. “Okay.”

Wilhelm returned to his counter, adjusting the hidden weapon beneath it. Maybe helping this woman was a little crazy, not to mention dangerous…but Wilhelm was firm in his resolve. After all, helping Svidi was the right thing to do.

[ihatetheinternetandeveryoneonit]

The Maul Situation

cw: mentions of blood and gore, and the dark brotherhood and Maven Black Briar are assholes, big shocker. But also OOC

The sun danced over the Velothi mountain peaks and the birds trilled through the aspens, and the sights and sounds and crisp air settled through the open windows of the sitting room. Veezara and his new recruit, soaked in the brains and other juices of of an unfortunate Argonian, soaked it all in. The Blackbriar mead was a welcome reprieve from their early morning escapades, especially in the luxurious home of its namesake.

"Mmm! Divines, Maven," Veezara wore a wide smile. "This is some serious gourmet shit. Me and my friend would have been satisfied with a tepid Honningbrew, but you go and spring this fucking gourmet shit on us! What is this flavor, do I detect juniper berries?"

"Knock it off, Veezara." Maven Blackbriar folded her arms, still in her nightgown.

"What?"

"I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my mead is. I'm the one who makes it, I know how good it is. When Maul goes shopping, he buys shit. I make the gourmet expensive stuff 'cause when I drink it, I wanna taste it. But you wanna know what's on my mind right now? It isn't the mead in my cellar, it's the dead lizard in my stable."

"Oh, Maven, don't even worry ab--" Veezara held up a hand. His companion's eyes darted between him and Maven, tankard frozen on their lips.

"No, no, no, no. I'm talking." Maven scowled. "Now let me ask you a question, Veezara. When you came pulling in here, did you notice a sign out front that said 'dead lizard storage?'"

"Maven, you know I didn't--" Veezara put his smile and a friendly shrug back on gingerly.

"Did you notice a sign that said 'Dead Liard Storage??'" Maven's voice rose.

Veezara sighed. "No. No I didn't."

"You know why you didn't see that sign?" Maven moved her hands to her hips.

"Why?" Veezara's eyes were to the floor, playing along.

"Because IT'S NOT THERE BECAUSE STORING DEAD LIZARDS AIN'T MY FUCKING BUSINESS! THAT'S WHY!"

"Well, Maven!" Veezara looked up and held up a hand. "We're not going to store it or any--"

"No-no-no-no!" Maven held up a finger. "Don't you fucking realize that if Maul comes home and finds a dead body in his house, he's gonna fucking leave me? No counselor from the temple of Mara, no trial separation, fucking gone. And I don't want to find a new right-hand man! Just…fuck, I want to help you out, Veezara, I really do. But I'm not going to lose Maul doing it.

"Maven, Maven, he's not going to leave--"

"DON'T FUCKING 'MAVEN' ME, VEEZARA! There's nothing you're gonna say that's going to make me forget that I love--" she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Now look, he's going to get back from leaning against Aerin's house in an hour and a half. You got to speak to the Night Mother or Sithis or whatever for help? Well then do it! And then get the fuck out of my house!"

"Good, well, we don't want to fuck your shit up." Veezara summoned his smile back once more. All we're going to do is call our people to bring us in."

"You're fucking my shit up right now!" Maven spat. "Just do me this favor, get your shit done, and get out of here!" Maven marched out of the sitting room. Veezara's companion stared at him, tankard now emptied. Veezara sighed, chugged the last of his own mead and wiped his mouth. "Let's get to it."