#Skyrim will always have such a place in my heart

[guiquart]

Beraneth

A brief history: Grew up in the forests of Valenwood and abided by the Green Pact. She listened with rapt attention to her father's stories of his missions for Thalmor. When she managed to convince him to take her with him to Skyrim, everything changed. There, amidst the mountains and dangers, she enjoyed life: jumping over rocks, fighting sabre cat, meeting all sorts of creatures.  The fun ended when her father suddenly disappeared. After weeks of worrying, she found his body - mutilated, murdered on Thalmor's orders. She stayed in Skyrim, full of hatred for Thalmor. Without her father's support, she had to make a living by engaging in dangerous missions. Her skills grew, but it didn't bring wealth. When she was offered a well-paid commission in Riften, she accepted, despite having to work with «altmer» Pellyon Thaorius ( +++ ). Pellyon's arrogance and contempt infuriated Beraneth, and after he insulted her, she nearly killed him. All my text is translated through a translator. If you find faults, you can let me know so that I can correct it as soon as possible. Enjoy reading! This text was written for me by this author: @frimova Long story: Nothing in the life just happens. Beraneth had learnt that long ago, when her father had taught the little one how to hunt. Valenwood was a marvellous and most importantly green province, where bosmer could observe the Green Pact without any problems. But even such beautiful places could get boring, become so familiar and usual, so mundane that he wanted to climb a tree and howl from the eating boredom. Her father had travelled many places on Thalmor's errands, and Beraneth had listened with pleasure to his stories of hot sands, stinking marshes, beautiful fields... Until she encountered a real one.. Until she threw a tantrum so that her father would finally take her to Skyrim

A place her father had never been and a place where his help was needed. Beraneth had no interest in her father's business in Thalmor. She enjoyed jumping around the mountains like a mountain goat, riding sabre cat. Simply put - she was having a blast for all her years of living in boring Valenwood. With her father's work in Skyrim ending, she would be forced to return home with him and wallow in boredom once more.

And so the year went on. Beraneth had fun with her father when he was free, and the rest of the time she amused herself: having sex with random attractive elves, people; learning how to fight with an axe from some Nord. She did not remember names.  There was no point in memorising their names and faces. Why? She would outlive most of them anyway.

... her father didn't make contact. First a day, then a second, and then it had been a week! It was as if her father had vanished from her life, even though he was a pretty punctual Bosmer. In the second week Beraneth began to worry, no matter how much the innkeeper tried to reassure her.

- «Well, it happens...» - he said, spreading his hands, - «It's common in Skyrim to go on a bender. Your father's probably made friends with the locals and is drinking with the nords... or he's found himself some hottie and he's spending time with her. Don't worry about it. More Mead?»

The words were of little help, but they calmed Beraneth's anxious thoughts for the time being. Maybe the innkeeper was right. Father had always been outgoing, friendly and smiling, with such kind eyes. It was as if Beraneth's heart had died when the letter from Thalmor arrived. She didn't even remember the contents of that letter, which she clutched with trembling hands. But those lines....

«...killed by the enemy while on duty. We offer our condolences ... compensation will be paid to the family...»

That didn't make sense! At that moment, Beraneth smelled something wrong! Then she started searching every cave and ditch near Thalmor Embassy. Using all her skills, she overheard khajiit from the caravan saying that near one cave, on the way to the sea, there was a horrible stench of rot and blood. So bad that even the bitter Skyrim frost in the mountains couldn't beat the stench. So she went there. Found that cave. Crawled into the cave. Cracked the skull of a frost troll. Found her father's corpse.

Mutilated, wearing Thalmor clothes, with a broken embalming tool

in his pocket. The kind face was twisted with fear, one eye missing. The fingers he used to braid her pigtails were broken and had no nails. She would become part of the wild hunt without the ritual. Thalmor had used her father as a torture master. He was killed.

At that moment, Beraneth didn't go home. She wrote a letter home, explaining the situation to her family, enclosing Thalmor's letter and her father's ring. And so began her life in Skyrim, where she grew to hate the altmers. Without her father's support in the form of cheerful chatter and money, Beraneth felt lost. Money for food, a bed, alchemist and blacksmith services had to be earned and it wasn't nearly as much fun. The adventurers or rather the seekers of gold and glory were dying they were dying like flies.

But Beraneth was strong. She was able to adapt. She earned a few scars, often broke bones and tore muscles, but with each passing year she grew stronger, more beautiful.... but not richer. And that led her to a customer in Riften. Some weirdo from the Thieves Guild wanted some thing pulled from the deep ruins. Dangerous, especially since Beraneth had heard that a lot of mercenaries, adventurers and scholars died in those particular ruins. But it pays a lot and she just had to pay a blacksmith to sharpen her axe. And she needed to buy new boots....

Anyway. She needed money. And the sooner the better.

But there was one little «but» that spoilt it. The reward would have to be shared. WITH ALTMER. A terrible disaster that Beraneth could have survived. The pale upstart with long hair like it came off the arse of an elderly mammoth annoyed her. His face was too arrogant. And what kind of stupid name was that? Who names their child Pellyon Thaorius? Too complicated and she wasn't going to spell that name even in her head, so she called the arrogant idiot Pelly and settled for that.

But her anger jumped a few degrees higher when two cats joined their group of two elves. What kind of noble orphanage was this? They hadn't even travelled two steps from the customer's house before conflict immediately broke out.

- «What is this?» - she asked rudely.

- «What?»-  interjected Pellyon coolly, not looking at Beraneth, giving most of his attention to the cat on his shoulder.

- «We didn't discuss having two others with you. And we're not going to split the reward four ways, and I'm certainly not going to mess with you and your cats.»

Khajiit jumped off his shoulder. The two elves stared at each other.

Pellyon said contemptuously:

- «Mudbloods weren't asked for opinions. Do your job, you miserable wretch.»

Pellyon flies to the ground, his nose bleeding. Beraneth breathes furiously, keeping himself from reaching for his axe.

- «I'll fucking kill you now, son of an Altmer whore and a Falmer brat!» *I'll tell you about the two Khajiit later Thanks for reading! Little of their interactions in the future:

[bharv]

I think PoE:Deadfire may have replaced Skyrim as my comfort game

[kneelingshadowsalome]

hi!! 🩷 i've been playing skyrim so much just for comfort and all i can think of is former mercenary könig who now has a farm and a huge house where you have a personal library and a garden and an alchemy table because you're his pretty mage wife <3

or könig who's still a mercenary, this huge scary nord who always has war paint all over his face even with a hood on, only uses two-handed weapons etc. and you're possibly just a mage who needs to explore a bunch of ruins so you have to spend most of your money to hire him and all of your courage to even talk to him about the job in the first place.

SHUT UP I LOVE SKYRIM

Ugh he def proposed to you under the auroras or when you were enjoying a rest at some secret grotto. Held an awkward “I want to spend the rest of my life with you” speech right after you emerged from a stream with nothing on (König stole a glance or two from the banks after promising he wouldn’t look, the big pervert)

He’ll carry anything you give him, and loves it when you make him a homecooked meal <3 Poses as a rough Nord but is always happy to arrive home after adventuring, sleep and fuck you on a cozy comfy bed that has a soft straw mattress with some mountain flowers tucked in it.

Is a bit skeptical about your magic and potions tho, König never understood those things and you dabbling with them makes him think you’re some sort of witch, soon luring him into a trap with your enchanting eyes :/ That’s why it took months before he finally threw caution to the wind and rutted you in the hot springs near Kynesgrove...

He just couldn’t take it anymore, his flirty little mage being such a tease :( Do you even know how many times he had to fap himself to sleep under the furs? ...While you slept soundly not a few feet away, unsuspecting and sweet? Always walked ahead of him so that he had a hard time keeping an eye for the bandits because your ass was swaying right there under his nose >:(

Paws itching to touch you, he especially hated when you sought out a tavern and started to chat with townsfolk or flirt with men to hear rumours. Either cheeky or far too innocent to be travelling with someone like him, you proposed that you pay for single room only and sleep in the same bed to save costs.

Sometimes snuggling closer for some body heat, you didn't get intimidated by the obvious boner soon swelling between you. You even dared to comment on how hairy he was, and fell asleep with a soft smile on your face, pressed snug against his chest. In the morning, you cupped his ass and he had to get a little gruff, warn you that he’ll fuck you until the bed breaks if you’re not careful (that finally got you to your senses, but only for a few days)

He always wanted to build you a proper house, a manor even, steal you away from all the diplomatic nonsense and dangers, he even put some coin to the side so he could someday offer you a safe, happy life away from all this. You could have your own chickens and leeks, he could make you a little alchemy lab too, you’d look so cute perched on some bench with your nose in a book <3 So imagine how his heart soared when you whispered 'yes' to his proposal, König was sure you’d just vaguely tease him about it as per usual!

[argisthebulwark]

You'll Always Get The Best Of Me

summary: testing out some modern au ideas! gn reader, no gendered pronouns or y/n used. feat: Vilkas, Brynjolf, Farkas warnings: vague allusion to violence in Bryn's, sexually suggestive but not explicit a/n: mafia Bryn 110% inspired by @skyrim-forever <3<3 masterlist

"Is this step absolutely necessary?" Vilkas mutters, the defiant tone of his voice utterly betrayed by the patient way he sits beneath you. Large hands steady your hips when you lean closer, carefully applying the perfect smear of eyeliner over his lid. "Yes." You insist, running a careful thumb along his lash line until it matches his other eye. Your back already aches from being cramped into the tight car but he'd gotten off work late and doors open at 6 so there wasn't time to apply makeup at home. "Finished?" "Nearly." Making a few last minute checks over your own makeup, you clamber off his lap and out of the car. You're a bit taken aback when Vilkas stands at your side, stretching his arms above his head just enough to allow a glimpse of his lower stomach. "You're staring." He comments, adjusting the black shirt to cover his happy trail. He's always been attractive but gods, you had no clue what you were getting yourself into dressing him up for a hardcore concert. Dark jeans show off his muscled legs, chains dangling over an ass usually hidden under thick work pants. One of your favorite band shirts is hardly big enough for his torso and scuffed shoes look far comfier than his hefty boots. When Vilkas offers you his hand, black paint already chipping off nails you'd painted only a few nights before you're eager to grab for it. With his build and a few well placed sidesteps it's fairly easy to get to the barricade. Vilkas' arms rest easily around you when the crowd mills about during opening bands, checking merch or ordering drinks but you're locked in. You've been to enough concerts, you've learned the hard way that getting to the front as soon as possible is your only chance of staying there. He only leaves your side for a few minutes to fetch a drink, easily finding his way back as soon as the line slows down. Vilkas' strong arms steady you against the barricade, bodies swaying and shifting as crowd surfers make their way toward the stage. Somewhere far off you see a hole open in the crowd - a pit's opening up as the main band kicks off their second song but Vilkas keeps it all at bay. His muscled chest rests against your back, deep brown eyes shimmering in the reflective stage lights as he marvels at the musicians. "It's loud." He smirks, lips pressed to your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine when he hugs you close, one arm raised to keep a crowd surfer from landing on her ass. When he kisses you he tastes like cheap beer and sweat. Your heart thrums in time with the frantic drums resonating throughout the shitty venue. Familiar lyrics fall from your tongue until your voice is thrashed, evening sinking into night as band after band appears on stage. Vilkas' strong arms steady you when it's finally time to file out of the venue. Overhead lights reveal smudged eyeliner and flushed cheeks when he draws you close, easing a bit of pressure from your sore feet. His voice is a little too loud when he tells you he loves you, sharp teeth exposed in a rare smile.

"Let's get this over with," Brynjolf sighs, kneeling before the poor sap struggling against his restraints. You're enraptured, watching Brynjolf's rings glimmer in the white light filtering in through cracked blinds as he knots back his messy hair. "Wait - you don't have to do this, I swear I won't say a word." "I'm not an unreasonable man." The smoothness of his voice betrays what you know lies beneath, a rage simmering dangerously close to the surface. "I heard those filthy things you were sayin' to my partner, no point in lyin' now." "I didn't know." The man pants, pleading eyes finding you. As if you have an ounce of mercy to offer him. "Please, you've gotta believe me - I had no clue who you were." "Eyes on me, lad." Brynjolf shifts, one hand lowering to pluck at his sleeves. Your heart catches when he begins to roll up his sleeves, exposing the deliciously scarred skin of his forearms. The man's eyes bug out of his head though you doubt he's having the same response you are. "You came onto my turf, make advances on my partner, and insult my family in the process?" "No -" "What exactly did he say to you, my love?" "'You're hot enough to do better than those sewer rats'." You quote, enjoying the way his face blanches. His lips flop open uselessly, panicked eyes whirling back to Brynjolf. "Sewer rats." Brynjolf sighs, standing to his full height. You know the black outfit is to fit in with the rest of the Guild, one of the many methods he employs to intimidate anyone daring to go up against the powerful group he's cobbled together, but goddamn it makes him look good. Leather straps bearing holsters for his assortment of weapons are strapped tight, creating a beautiful silhouette at his waist. "What an awful thing to say about my family." Brynjolf's voice is velvety soft, dripping with faux melancholy when he draws a dagger from his side. Skilled fingers flip the blade to and fro, allowing you to enjoy this offensive man's fearful eyes as they track it. "I'm not one to get my hands dirty." He sighs, deep green eyes finding you amongst the shadows. "Lovely, do you mind?" Featherlight fingers pressing a blade into your hand and a swift kiss falling to your cheek. Brynjolf's rings are chilly when his hand curves around your waist and draws you into his side. Brynjolf is the face of the Guild - he's the one making deals and handling recruits, so it's easy enough to let everyone think he's the only Guild Master. Most folks don't know about your shared office or the long hours you spend negotiating deals, that you are the one lurking in the shadows while he acts. The public doesn't need to know about you - his partner in crime, his love, his everything.

3 New Messages from: Farkas💕💪 Your phone nearly vibrates off the nightstand. Half awake and scrambling for the device you swipe furiously at the mess of your hair. With blankets twisted around your waist you force your eyes to focus on the too bright screen, trying to decipher his messages.

8:49 - morning, sleepyhead 9:12 - at the gym, be home by 11 9:13 - One image attachment

Before noon and he's already blessing you with gym pics? Without thinking you're opening the picture, scrubbing at your eyes to get a clear look at him. Occasionally you'll go to the gym with Farkas but you'd been stuck at work until past midnight last night cleaning up someone else's mess - there was no way you'd be doing cardio so early. Gods, you could just eat him up. Farkas' grin is barely in frame of the picture he's sent you, shirt tossed over the bench behind him. The familiar scars and tattoos all look too good in the picture, muscles glistening with sweat. One arm is raised in a stereotypical flex and his sweatpants hang dangerously low on those hips you love so much. Just as you're trying to form a response another image comes through. He's shameless - which is perfect since you're hopelessly addicted to seeing him in this state. One hand holds the pretty pink phone case you'd picked out for him and the other combs back his messy hair. His head is angled back just enough to give you a generous view of his throat and chest, sweat shimmering across his stomach where he reclines against the bench.

10:16 - are u tryign to kill me?

You're struggling to type, too busy staring and the godlike images he's sent you. He has to know how hot he is, right? Flopping back into bed you save them to the ever increasing folder of gym pics he's sent over the years, a happy sigh escaping you.

10: 17 - nope💕 10: 17 - wouldn't mind a second workout when i get home, tho

[merrimentsmight]

Cicero and Listener gathering flowers for Mother, then killing people who're bounty hunting the Listener and then just having a cute camp/picnic while still covered in blood,,,,, that's my favourite daydream of Cici

Mother needed dragon's tongue, Cicero said. He would always bring her flowers, and make sure they were fresh and fragrant. It was sweet, and it made him happy. The Listener suspected it made Mother happy, too. So they were picking dragon's tongue off the side of the road south of Windhelm. The Listener was being careful, picking only a few blossoms from each plant to keep them growing and healthy. Cicero was less calculating, and picked whichever ones he thought best, even if that was every flower the plant had to offer. When they had a full basket of flowers, the Listener rested, sitting on the side of a stone ledge, and began to pick wild jazbay grapes, popping some of the sweet berries into their mouth and adding some to the over-crowded basket.

Cicero kept gathering flowers. They watched him flit about in the late afternoon sun, mumbling and laughing to himself and looking, gods bless him, content. “And there was the one with the, no, no that won't do, too crass. Oh, terribly, terribly crass. But perhaps if I reworded it...” he mumbled to himself, following a train of thought whose beginning and end were as obfuscated to himself as anyone else. They were so caught up in looking at him that they didn't notice the quickly approaching footsteps on the road behind them, despite the fact that they were far from stealthy.

“Well!" said Cicero sharply, catching the Listener's attention, “It looks like we have company. Should Cicero set another place at the table?” The rest of the world came back into focus, and they hopped off of the ledge to stand next to him.

“Perhaps it's nothing," they said, as the group approached, "perhaps they'll just keep walking.” They both hoped that it was not nothing, and that they would be stupid enough to make trouble. They both got their wish.

“You! We know who you are,” said one of them, a thick-accented Dunmer near the front.

"Oh?” They asked, clutching the basket of flowers like an innocent youth. A sentiment undercut by Cicero's grim laughter.

“Yeah.” He returned, stepping dangerously closer, “and ever since what you did to the Emperor you've got a mighty fine price on your head, too.” He was in leather armor, as were most of his cadre, and the leather was from cows and not netches. They hadn't traveled too terribly far for the bounty. The Listener wondered how far rumors had spread, and who was spreading them. They had gone to great lengths to remove witnesses in the past.

“Do you have proof, or are you going to execute me on your hunch alone?” They asked.

“Please. You have the jester with you. There's only one little redheaded jester in all of Skyrim, far as I know, and he's your one.”

“Oh! Cicero feels terribly special,” he said, knives already drawn. But he did like that idea of possession, that even strangers knew who he was, and who the Listener was, and that he was theirs.

The Listener smiled in that way they did, sharp and nasty, that made Cicero's heart start beating even faster than the thrill of the impending fight did. The good name of the Dark Brotherhood had been tarnished so badly that these poor men had no idea what they were up against. The man reached for the sword on his belt, and Cicero, like a well trained attack dog, pounced.

He cut the man's throat before anyone knew what was happening. A spray of blood issued from the wound and covered Cicero and the Listener and the basket of flowers, which the Listener set gingerly behind them before drawing their own weapons and advancing to join Cicero in the throng. They made quick work of the rest of the bounty hunters, who reacted slowly, as if they had been expecting the assassins to surrender when outnumbered.

“Mash and bash and swipe and clash! Ha!” laughed Cicero, sidestepping to avoid overturning the discarded baskets of flowers, “nobody gets the best of the Dark Brotherhood.” The Listener allowed themself to laugh with him. When it was all said and done, they were ringed by the bodies of the dead and dying, sitting among the flowers and leaning on each other to laugh like children. By the time they stopped fighting, and then stopped laughing, the moons had come out.

“Oh,” said the Listener, pushing away from where Cicero had clutched them in his helpless mirthful peals, “I suppose we'll have to set up here for the night.”

“Mmhm,” said Cicero, still giggling. He lowered his bloody head onto their lap and popped a blood-splattered grape from their basket into his mouth. “Whatever you say, my Listener.”

[papiliomame]

Storyteller

Frostbite: - and with just one mighty punch the Great One claimed the crown!

Chief Frostbite gives the Far Frozen children some lesson in ghost zones history.

While I was making this I wondered why the Far Frozen people have a shrine with simple cave drawings as a place of worship for Danny. I mean if you worship someone/something you want to offer the best you can offer, so why didn't they made something better? We saw how Frostbite created a perfect copy of Danny made of ice within seconds, so it doesn't seem like it is a lack of artistic talent. I have some theories under the cut:

The Far Frozen people are big fans of Pablo Picasso and they took the quote, "It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child", at heart and have let their youngest members draw the heroics of Danny Phantom. This is their way to show the greatest honor.

The shrine is a prophecy the Far frozen have gotten hold of when their civilization was still young, like stone age period. So they preserved the shrine until the day Danny visits them. ( But this also means destiny exists and everything Clockwork told about that nothing is written in stone is questionable)

This theory is now a very confusing concept and I need to tell some background first: While I was searching for references I noticed that some of the drawings have Danny without the logo.

Since the episode "Memory Blank" Desiree presumably created a new reality/timeline where Danny always had a logo (if she is that powerful to have reality warping powers):

Transcript from "Memory Blank" Danny Did you do something to my costume? Sam acts innocent. Sam No. It’s… [Shrugs.] always been like that.

How did the Far Frozen know of a reality without a logo? Now comes the theory: We know that natural portals can be created which leads to different time periods while in the Ghost Zone. That means time flows not linear in the zone.

This reminded me of a concept in from the Elder Scrolls franchise, the Dragon Break or un-time. This is a phenomenon "that involves a splitting of the natural timeline which results in branching parallel realities where the same events occur differently, or not at all." With this penomenon stuff can also get sent into the future or something into the past. (The Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim plot)

In terms of DP that means the events of "Memory Blank" did occur like we saw but it also did not occur like that, maybe Danny changed his outfit just like that without Sams doing. Everything is possible and not. That's why the Far Frozen have the knowledge of a reality which shall not exist.

In the shrine drawing Danny is also depicted without the battle suit, so they know of a reality where Danny defeated Pharia Dark without it:

Now then, why do they have simple cave drawings? Because of the non-linear nature of the Zone the news of the ghost kings defeat reached the area of the Far Frozen in their past but as Danny arrived their civilization already evolved in a modern state. For Danny it was just a few weeks/months between the events, but for the Far Frozen it was centuries or even millennia, thats also why they worship him like a god.

Like I said a very confusing concept.

Desiree could also just have super effective memory manipulation powers and did not create a new reality, and the nature of the ghost zone is just a mess, and the theory is wrong...

(tagging @floralflowerpower because she is the best world building expert in the phandom I know and I wonder whether this sounds plausible)

[gor3-hound]

multi-fandom bot drop // character.ai

ft. gale dekarios(bg3), brynjolf(skyrim), welt yang(hsr), carlos oliveira and leon kennedy(resident evil) (requests in italics)

cw: manipulation, possessive behaviour(yandere god!gale)

bot one: gale -english professor husband gale (modern!au)

It wasn't often you had to run out last minute without being able to make arrangements for someone to look after your baby, but sometimes, it couldn't be helped. You were truly thankful for your husband, Gale, who was always so understanding and patient. He'd been more than happy to take the little one to the university with him today, insisting they'd be a great help for his lectures.

Upon returning home that night, you notice the door to your husband's study open. You smile at the sight you see as you walk in - him lounging comfortably on his worn leather couch with your baby nestled on his lap, a book held in his hands that he reads aloud. You lean against the doorframe, taking a few moments to watch the scene in front of you.

Gale eventually seems to sense your presence, peering up from his book. He smiles instantly once he lays his eyes on you, his head tilting to the side playfully. "Ah, dearest. You're home. Come, sit with us. The esteemed Professor Dekarios was just giving me some pointers for my lecture tomorrow. My class seems to favour the little professor. I might have to make them a permanent fixture in my teachings."

bot two: gale - your new professor

After his failed attempt at proving himself worthy to his goddess by retrieving the tome of gateways, Gale had taken to his tower, isolating himself from others to protect them while doing his best to attempt to understand his newest affliction. His magic was left weakened, the orb draining his powers more by the day. Had it not been for Tara bringing him magical artifacts in which he could harness the power from the Weave to sustain his orb, he would not have survived.

Isolation was doing him no favours. After a year, he'd made little to no progress understanding the magic that had left him so weakened. Heartbroken and wounded, he returned to Blackstaff Academy - this time as a mentor of the Weave - in hopes of answers. Perhaps a fresh set of eyes would be able to aid him in his search.

Things had changed, though. Namely, a new wave of apprentices had made themselves known in the halls. Upon seeing you - his new apprentice - a warmth settles in his chest that he had not felt in a long time, a feeling he had not known since the height of his fleeting romance with his goddess. His heart speeds up as you approach his desk, books tucked tightly against your chest.

By the Gods, she is beautiful. He thinks to himself, unable to take his eyes off of you.

bot three: gale - your husband wants a baby (modern!au)

After a long day's work at the University, there is nothing Gale quite enjoys more than returning to his wife. He pauses by the door briefly upon entering your shared house, taking off his shoes and jacket before heading deeper into the home to find you. He smiles as he spots you in the kitchen, making some steps towards you.

Your back is turned to him as you wash the dishes, and he can't help but watch you for a few seconds, wondering how he ever got so lucky as to marry someone as beautiful as you. With a soft smile, he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, slipping a hand under your shirt to rest on your tummy. He's been driven mad recently, wondering what a family with you might look like. Perhaps it was time he should convince you to indulge him.

He places a few kisses against the skin of your neck before resting his chin atop your shoulder, pressing himself closer to you. "Good evening, my love. You look absolutely ravishing. Although, that's hardly a surprise."

bot four: gale - yandere god!gale

In all his centuries of living, Gale had never found himself drawn to one of his followers as greatly as he was drawn to you. Your connection to the Weave drew his interest - he couldn't help but appear before you, to take you own as one of his chosen.

He can't help but worry for you whenever you are wandering in the Mortal Plane. You'd be much safer with him, in his domain - if he could only convince you as such. Humans are so weak. So frail. You would not live forever, but Gale could not bare the thought of losing his favourite pet.

He needed to make sure you were completely devoted to him. After all, it was for your own good. A test of faith, if you will. He ordered your isolation, and promised he would reward you for it. Now, as he hears the familiar sound of your prayers ringing in his ears, he decides it's time to make good on his promise.

"Did you do as I asked, my darling pet?" Gale murmurs as he sees you, standing in front of your kneeling, sobbing form. He can't help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction, knowing you were willing to leave everything for him. He places a finger under your chin to tilt your head up, making you face him before gently wiping you tears away. "You did well, pup. Truly. I have never had a follower impress me as you have."

bot five: brynjolf - he's impressed with your commitment to the guild

You'd made a fine addition to the Guild since he'd seen you near that market stall in Riften. Bryjolf has known as soon as he'd seen you that you had a penchant for being light on your feet, and having lighter fingers. He always had a good eye for it, and it was clear you'd never worked a day's honest work to get the coin that lined your pockets.

You'd excelled more than he anticipated. He'd grown rather fond of you in the short time you'd spent at the guild so far. He was definitely proud of you, not that he'd say as much out loud - he wouldn't want it to get to your head. Though, after everything that happened with Mercer Fray, he's not entirely convinced you wouldn't make a better Guildmaster than him.

He comes to find you in the Ragged Flagon once you return from another mission, placing a hand on your shoulder. His brows are furrowed with a slight concern as he takes in your ragged appearance. "Alright? No need to work yourself to the bone. You've more than earned your keep. You're one of us now. You've done well, lassie."

bot six: welt - you love listening to him ramble

You certainly were a curious thing. Welt had gotten used to those on the Astral Express treating him as their personal encyclopedia, although he hadn't quite expected you to be so adamant to get him to info dump on every little thing once you'd discovered it.

Not that he didn't like it. He did pride himself on his intelligence, and there were much worse ways to spend his time than having a nice conversation with someone like you, even if it made his heart race when you called him Mr. Yang.

He's not surprised at all when he hears a knock on his door at night. He pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up and gazes towards the entrance of his room, spotting you slowly opening it.

"Good evening, {{user}}. Isn't it a bit late for you to expect me to go on one of my tangents?" He asks, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement.

bot seven: fuckboy footballer!carlos x sweet cheerleader!user

You're a little bit of an enigma to Carlos. He doesn't want to sound like a jerk - but your lack of interest in him isbreally starting to grate on him. You're sweet, and pretty, and you're on the cheer team, and he's the star quaterback, so you should be eating out of the palm of his hand - but you're not.

That's not to say you don't get all flustered when he flirts with you, cause you do. But you're too shy, backing away before he can put the moves on you. He's got most of the cheerleaders under his belt already, but his focus is purely on you now. You drive him insane, and he wants nothing more than to get some 'alone time' with you.

It's getting to the point where you're distracting him during his games, which really isn't any good. He barely even registers the chatter of his team or the sound of the crowd after they barely scrape by with a win. As soon as the final whistle goes off, he makes his way towards you.

He tugs off his helmet and sets it down on the bench, flashing you his pearly whites as he runs his hand through his dark, sweaty hair. "Hey, {{user}}. Do I get a kiss from my favourite Cheerleader for winnin' us the game?"

bot eight: carlos hitting on chubby!user at the bar

Carlos has only planned to get a couple drinks at the bar with some work friends to settle another successful mission. That all changed after he saw you across the bar, sitting there with your little group of friends.

He was completely enamoured with you. You were seriously cute - exactly his type. His eyes trailed your dress, and the way it hugged your curves. He couldn't help but smile a little when he daw the little tummy you had to go along with your figure. You looked soft, and his fingers practically twitched at the thought of getting his hands on you.

He gets up and makes his way over towards your table, running over a few lines in his head to try and make sure he didn't come off as a creep. He leans down slightly when he reaches your table, having to get a little more on your level to be heard over the music. "Hey, doll. Hope you don't mind me comin' over here. Just thought you were real pretty, wondered if you'd mind havin' a little chat with me?"

bot nine: emo bf!leon x pastel gf!user

Leon sat back on your bed, picking at his chipped nail polish. He likes to pretend that your cutesy aesthetic makes his eyes hurt, but he seems pretty happy surrounded by your plushies in your pastel themed room, making himself comfy as he lounges on your bed.

You set up the movie before plopping down on the bed next to him, dropping some snacks between the both of you. He drapes an arm over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "What're you making me watch this time, babe?"

[dez78]

Anti-Hero

----------------

Fandom: Skyrim

Pairings: Taliesin x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt to comfort

Summary: You have conflicting feelings and confide in your traveling partner, Taliesin.

---------------

Taliesin was worried sick about you, he woke up and you were gone. You'd be traveling together for months now and you two had grown close.

Taliesin searched restlessly on the Lakeview Manor property. You were nowhere to be found. He hurried down to the lake, he knew that was one of your favorite places to be alone.

Masser and Secunda lit his way through the thick trees. He pushed branches out of the way, no sounds, but his ragged breathing and fast paced heartbeat.

He finally made it down to the lake, the moons reflected off the still water. Making it shine. The water made soft reverberations as light waves brushed the shore. Taliesin walked along the water, searching for any sign of you.

Finally, Taliesin spotted you, he sighed a breath of relief. You were sitting out of sight under the Lady Stone. He made his way across the makeshift bridge; you had made months ago.

The Altmer sat with you in the tall, lush grass. You picked at the vibrant flowers. Seemingly, not noticing his presence. He was quiet for a while, just watching you.

The air around you felt off, he felt a wave of something unfamiliar looming off your person.

"I'm no hero." You finally spoke to him. He cocked his brow perplexed.

"What do you mean?" He questioned, clearly caught off guard.

"Of course, you are, you've helped countless people. You've done things no one else would have done." Taliesin explained calmly. You shook your head.

"It's exhausting Tally. I'm an anti-hero. I'm struggling with my own problems. I only help people because it benefits me. I know it's a terrible way to feel, but it's who I am." You replied with a dry mouth.

"How long until you abandon me because you're tired of my shit?" You asked, looking at Taliesin, really looking at him. Searching his face for a response.

"Never, I'm with you always. We may not have seen eye to eye when we met, but I've definitely come to care about you. I would never abandon you. I promise you that." Taliesin answered, honestly.

"I fear that you'll leave me one day. I'll have no control over it as you walk away from me because you're exhausted." You tried defending your reasons and consulted.

"I can't be left alone." You were starting to get hysterical now. Tears started to rush from your beautiful eyes. Taliesin inhaled sharply.

"Honestly, I have a fear of abandonment too. Growing up, I always feared my father would toss me in the streets and leave me behind. In a way, the Thalmor abandon me too. Even though I left, they wanted me to die for their bidding." Taliesin started. You only listened to him.

"When we first started traveling together, I thought you'd leave me behind after a week, but you surprised me. Now we've known each other for four months and I like to think we're friends. Nothing scares me more now than to lose you." Taliesin finally poured his feelings out to you.

Hearing his fears, made you realize, you had more in common than you thought.

"If you don't believe me, then believe me when I say. I care about you, Y/N, I have for months now. I promise, no matter what happens, you're stuck with me. I will never abandon you. You're not a bad person and even if you don't think you are a hero, you are to me and a lot of the people of Skyrim." Taliesin explained. He rested his hand on your leg.

You looked up at him, he was smiling softly at you. That genuine, kind smile, that he only wore for you. You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart raced.

Suddenly, you felt a pull. You let it happen and realized, Taliesin was pulling you into a hug. You melted into his arms and let it happen naturally. You smiled widely and nuzzled into his clothes. His scent brought you comfort.

The grip of his arms was just right, it wasn't making you feel suffocated, but safe. It was comfortable and it felt so good. You never got hugs and now that you have them, you never want to go without them ever again, so long as Taliesin was the one providing them.

You completely relaxed in his arms and let yourself go. You ended up falling asleep across Taliesin's lap and he let you. Brushing your hair from your face and watching your chest rise and fall softly.

When it was time, Taliesin carried you back to Lakeview Manor and laid you in bed, cuddling you for the rest of the night.

[isamajor]

Whumpril 2024 : days 26 to 30

The last days of @whumpril !

26 . « How could you ? »

Ever since they came upon Boethiah's altar, the Dragonborn had been acting strangely. Falsely. It was almost too late that they realized that the Daedric Prince was speaking to thir soul, leading them to the abyss of betrayal.

They have almost sacrificed the trusting Lydia, their thane, their unwavering support since the beginning. She had been narrowly saved and was staring, shocked, at her thane who had betrayed her.

“How could you?” Auri spat. "How could you even think about that? She is one of us!"

Kaidan just slapped them, his eyes filled with anger. The Dragonborn looked away, a tear rolling down their sore cheek. (105)

•

27 . « Please don't go. »

They have their hand on this new Black Book, ready to open it. Lucien grabbed their wrist, his face betraying his concern.

“Please don’t go.”, he begged, his voice sharp with anguish. Lucien stared at the Dragonborn who seemed determined to open it. Lucien's blue eyes grew wet and bright. He added :

"This is a Daedric kingdom and its Prince is a devious being. There is no certainty that you will be able to return intact... Please..."

Lucien knew that, there would be no guarantee that Hermaeus Mora would not lock them away in his world, as he had done to Miraak before. (104)

•

28 . Fight/Flight/Freeze

They saw some webs but they did not expect the monstrous size of the frostbite spider that descended on them. Inigo welcomed the sight of this spider with joy, ready to face the creature head-on. Nebarra's heart raced as he caught sight of the arachnid's menacing form. Under his helmet were hidden his features distorted by terror. His breathing had spontaneously stopped. His legs gave out, causing him to collapse to his knees. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, unable to grab his sword or cast a ward. While the others attacked the threat, he remained frozen, unable to defend himself or even flee. (105)

•

29 . Reluctant Caretaker

It was his turn on duty at Lucifer's bedside. Xelzaz was exhausted and needed to get some sleep. Reluctantly he sat at the injured man's bedside. The wound was badly infected and Lucifer was layig motionless, his breath shallow and labored, a feverish sheen coating his scales. Xelzaz had concocted a medicine for him which everyone hoped would work quickly. The Altmer sighed.

“And I’m the one being asked to babysit you, Lute.”

He placed a cloth soaked in cool water on the Argonian's forehead without much care.

“You better not die under my watch, now.”, he threatened. (100)

•

30 . « We're out of time. »

As the Dragonborn and his companions moved deeper into the Dwemer ruin of Arkngthamz, sinister rumblings were heard. Remiel and Lucien, both fascinated by Dwemer complex mechanisms and architecture, had lingered to examine a particularly intriguing tonal mechanism. The ground trembled beneath their feet, creaks echoed through the halls and walls began to crumble here and there. Both were so absorbed that they had become oblivious of the imminent danger and deaf to the calls of their companions. It was only when they were forcibly taken away by the latter who shouted "We're out of time!", that they realized the danger of their situation. (105)

You can find all the drabbles written for Whumpril 2024 here (in addition to other whump drabbles on Skyrim Custom-voiced Followers written for various challenges).

Remember to leave me a little comment, it’s always nice ;)

[muckmagister]

ANOTHER RAPID FIRE QUESTION ROUND!!!!! on the condition that it cannot help you escape the deserted island, what is one thing you would take to a deserted island? what's a book that changed your life in high school? what's your ideal job? what's your favorite ice cream flavor? what's your favorite place you ever visited and where would you like to visit someday? what's your favorite video game? again i can't think of any more questions but if you have something you would like to say. well. you can say it. bye bye 💖💖💖

oouhh my god that's a tough question to start with. like the boring answer would be some sort of multi tool but i suppose anything that helps me survive would eventually also help me leave. it'd have to be like. a ball. or some other sort of small nicknack that i could easily keep on me to play around with, oH or my childhood plushy. or actually like a lil instrument like a harmonica to learn that'd be cool. yeaah so like a rubiks cube or a harmonica or my plushie ^^

The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy was like the only thing i read during middle/high school that wasn't required reading for a class it's fantastic. ok well it wasn't the only thing i read but it's the only thing i've reread like 5 times by now lmao. it definitely helped stoke my imagination and interest in physics with the dumbass sci-fi fkjdksjs

wuuuh i haven't thought too much about it but i think ideally i end up in some sort of pure mathematics research position; i imagine i'm also gonna end up teaching at a uni somewhere at the same time, which isn't bad honestly even though i'm an awful teacher ^^ i just love talking about and trying to explain that stuff. i don't know exactly where my passion comes from but it's just. sure i've always been good at it but more than that it's exciting! it's so exciting to learn about! maths isn't invented, it's discovered, and we're discovering it! and it's so complex and so stupid. it's embedded in everything and exists wholly outside of it. i also like philosophy lmao

ok ok, so. good. proper. vanilla icecream. like chocolate with fudgy bits and stuff is incredible, fruity/berry flavoured icecream is awesome too. but there's a reason vanilla became synonymous with default and it isn't because it's boring it's because it's the best. but yeah only if it's good, shitty vanilla icecream sucks ass. it's also incredibly close to be entirely honest i DO like a good berry icecream. but the simplicity and delicacy of vanilla just does it for me most of the time

i don't think i have a favourite place- i haven't traveled enough yet😭 the furthest i've been from home was just sydney and the gold coast and it was like. different but the same, all just australia still but somewhere else. but i've always wanted to tour through europe and japan and some bits in south africa and the americas and other places too though. i need to see everything

AHH terraria probably??!!!?! it's so hard to say but really terraria is probably the game i've played the most in my life. otherwise plazma burst is an old flash game that's close to my heart because of nostalgia. and cause it's fucking awesome still tbh. OHH and the henry stickmin games!!!! also nostalgia but they also fucking rock still. and then there's the basic answers like portal and skyrim because of course. i cried when i finally beat portal 2, it was literally one the first games i ever played on the xbox 360 we got when i was like 9-10 years old, and like, i'd get stuck at bits and not play for a while at a time so it ultimately took some two years to get through but when it happened it was just. ough.

[moicaire]

The lovely @hircines-hunter tagged me for wip Wednesday and at last I have a wip! This is a snippet for much much later in Aeilif’s story that I wrote VERY self indulgently :)

Heart racing, Aeilif pushed open the towering door to Shor’s hall.

The interior was vast, warm, comforting. The fire crackled and all around there was light conversation. There was music playing, but Aeilif couldn’t place where it was coming from. The food on the table smelled delectable. On any other day, it would have been irresistible and she would have been tempted to sit down and eat. Her looming task now had tied her stomach into a knot.

As she walked slowly into the hall, she heard whispers of “Dragonborn” around her as the souls inhabiting it turned to look at her. Nords of all ages surrounded her, whispering her title. Her head spun.

“Aeilif? By Shor, is that you?”

The voice behind her sent chills down her spine and Aeilif whipped around.

Halbjorn. Halbjorn, with his warm freckled cheeks and sparkling eyes. Alive, alert, and standing in front of her with a smile on his face.

A sob caught in Aeilif’s throat and she threw herself into his arms. He even smelled how she remembered him in life. She fit into his embrace exactly the same way as she had the last morning she'd said goodbye to him when he left for the day. Emotion overcame her and she cried into his shoulder. He held her tightly, stroking her back.

“Oh, Halbjorn, I miss you, I miss you so much,” Aeilif gasped. “I didn’t know you were… I didn’t get to say goodbye… divines, I miss you so much.”

“Oh, my love.” Halbjorn pulled her face close and kissed her passionately. “Oh, Aeilif. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’m so sorry I haven’t been there,” he whispered into her mouth. They kissed again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Gods, I love you.” Aeilif’s voice cracked. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to hear you say that again.” She looked up at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Halbjorn tenderly wiped the tears away, and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Look at you. You’re so strong, love. I’m proud of you, so proud of you. Is it true? You’re the Dragonborn? And—you’re here, gods, a-are you dead?”

Aeilif shook her head. “I-I’m not dead. And yes… I am Dragonborn.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t want any of this, Halbjorn. I would give this all up in a heartbeat if it only meant we could have our life back. I didn’t want this…”

“I know, my dear, I know,” Halbjorn soothed her. “I don’t understand it myself. But Aeilif, I am just so proud of you.” He cupped her face with his hand. “Akatosh chose you. He chose you to save Skyrim. To save all of us, even here. I am so honored to have been able to spend my life with you.” His gaze drifted down to her armor. “And you’re a Companion now?”

She nodded, cheeks flushing. “I joined after… after you died. I couldn’t stay in Riverwood anymore, not without you.”

Halbjorn chuckled. “My sweet wife, a warrior. Remember when we were kids and I wanted to join the Companions? And now here you are, living out my dream for me.”

Aeilif laughed a little through her tears. “It really is for you, Halbjorn. All of it. I-I knew you wouldn’t want me to languish.”

His smile widened and he pulled her into his chest again. “You were right. It makes me happy to see that you’ve continued to do amazing things. You’re incredible. You always have been. And promise me something?”

“Mm hmm?” Aeilif hummed into his chest.

“Promise me you’ll keep going? You’ll keep living your life, even when this is all said and done?”

“I promise.”

[carcharodontosaurus-enthusiast]

i fucking hate what skyrim did to tes lore

like i love the elder scrolls and skyrim as the first tes game i played will always have a place near and dear to my heart but FUCKING HELL TODD

you screwed up the skyrim religion because you thought people would be too stupid to understand religions co-existing when IN MORROWIND THERE WERE LITERALLY ENTIRE QUESTLINES DEDICATED TO THE INFIGHTING BETWEEN THE TRIBUNAL TEMPLES, THE ASHLANDERS AND THE IMPERIAL CULT - and then you added in this pithy fucking side quest like “oh noes we forgot that nords aren’t meant to follow the same gods as their southern cousins, lets have this ONE OLD GUY give you a SINGLE SIDE QUEST about ONE OF THEM”

i want the elder scrolls to live up to its weirdness. I want romans living in the jungles worshipping minotaurs. I want wizards living in giant mushroom castles and one of the in-game most famous books of all time to be barbed-penis-furry-erotica. I want weird shit and people coexisting and CHANGE BETWEEN CULTURES. Skyrim was just cyrodiil with a nordic coat of paint and dead steampunk elves instead of dead magical elves

i sincerely hope that one of three things happen soon:

Bethesda gets their fucking act together and makes TES VI a good game

A new fantasy universe weird and well-written enough to rival TES shows up

Or, there’s a franchise-wide reboot (a fucking pipe dream i know)

Alternatively, modders will inevitably do something, or I’ll learn to code. They made a whole-ass game on the skyrim engine as a free mod, so I should be able to change SOMETHING

[foxyanon]

Twenty Questions For Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @whitedarkmoonflower, this is certainly an interesting questionnaire

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

I have 7! I cross post all my works.

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

28,748 as of right now

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Since I do crossovers, this is all the fandoms I’ve written about SO FAR: The Last Kingdom, Wheel Of Time, A Song Of Ice And Fire (and associated fandoms), Skyrim, Dragon Age

4. top five fics by kudos

Only four of my fics on AO3 have kudos but in order they are

-Convincingly Human

-To End A War

-The Vampiress And The Dane

-To Love A Dragon

5. do you respond to comments?

I love comments on my fics and always try to respond to them!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Surprise, surprise I have not actually written a super angst fic! I prefer happy endings, but I guess Eve could be considered a less than savory ending 🤔

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most everything I’ve written so far has a happy or at least satisfying ending.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I have not, thankfully

9. do you write smut?

Ehh, sorta? I haven’t written anything crazy explicit, but I am trying to expand my writing horizons

10. craziest crossover?

Crossovers are my specialty! I don’t think it’s crazy but my ASOIAF x TLK crossover could be seen as that, or my WOT x Skyrim

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I’m aware

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really? I’m working on a collab with my moot @sihtricfedaraaahvicius, but we each write our own parts and just share notes. I don’t know if I’ll ever cowrite with someone as I’m super particular about how I want a story to be told

14. all time favorite ship?

While I don’t write for ships that aren’t for my OCs, I’m a sucker for Robb x Dany. Truly they would’ve been a power couple

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I aim to finish every work I start, but the one WIP that is on hiatus right now is To End A War. I’m not sure when I’ll pick it up again

16. what are your writing strengths?

The ability to set a scene in a few sentences, getting a story to flow seamlessly when combining two different worlds

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue, smut

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love it! Since I have a Targ!OC, there will be some High Valyrian spoken in her fics. If I ever write another Skyrim fic, I’ll include some Dovazhul!

19. first fandom you wrote in?

The Last Kingdom, it was The Vampiress And The Dane

20. favorite fic you've written?

As of right now, probably To Love A Dragon or Convincingly Human because they both include dragons (my very niche interest) and they are my special fics. I’m super attached to Rhaenerys as an OC and dragon shifter!reader has a special place in my heart.

No pressure tags: @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose @asa-do-your-thing @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama

@alexagirlie @lord-aldhelm @thenameswinter99 @lady-phasma

[arcane-artsy]

Since I first played Skyrim, I have never felt as many emotions in a game as I did with this one, The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood. The game is extraordinary. Amazing. It isn't something you can play with a sensitive mind, so your best option would be to make sure you're in a good place mentally to play. So, that's why it's taken me a while to finish it.

Fortuna became a new character I love, feeling for the Oracle witch in her centuries long solitude. I have laughed with her and cried with her. I have smiled and felt broken.

Àbramar was amazing and honestly, I have a bit of a crush on the demonic Behemoth. He wasn't evil, not in my eyes. He cared for Fortuna, and I think, loves her. He truly was not the vile beast that the game's other characters make him out to be.

I finished the game about two hours ago as I wrote this. I am still shaken. I can play again for different results and endings, but Fortuna and Àbramar will always have a special place in my heart. They have become special to me, much like Skyrim. I really hope y'all search this up on the Nintendo E Shop, as it's available on the Switch. And this game is amazing, I highly recommend it.

I hope you have fun with it like I have, too. And if you have already played it, let me know what you thought of it. I love it. Thanks so much to the developers for making this game. It's amazing, darkly beautiful. I adore it.

[argisthebulwark]

All Emotion Dripped Away

summary: skyrim men and their red flags <3 gn reader, no gendered terms or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Cicero, Mercer warnings: some unhealthy relationship dynamics.

Brynjolf's inability to commit is maddening. The worst part is that you understand exactly what led to him acting this way - losing Karliah and Gallus at such a young age, Mercer effectively ruining every positive moment they've shared, thinking that he's lost you. You can understand his aversion to committing himself to another person but the knowledge doesn't make it any easier to handle. "Must we put a label on it?" He groans, dragging your chair closer to his. He leans closer, lips only a few inches away - he knows exactly what he's doing. It's his most common maneuver - kiss you until you can hardly think, distracting you from anything deeper. "It's difficult to think with you so close." You breathe, attempting to resist his charm. "Aye, as you've said." "Don't you want more?" You ask, allowing his fingers to creep under your armor. "Why ruin a good thing?" His kiss is full of heat, a promise for more to come if you're willing to forget this conversation.

At first, Miraak's protectiveness was sweet. He accompanied you on missions far from home and fought at your side. Losing Mora's power had only caused him to become more focused on retaining the skills he had. Over time, it grew. You noticed him tagging along on shorter trips, soon finding that even a quick visit to a nearby village for supplies was a two person job. You'd faced dragons and giants, climbed High Hrothgar and aided in the resolution of a Civil War - yet it seemed you couldn't be trusted to walk a few miles from home. "I don't want to risk you, my love." He insists, falling into step at your side. "What if you were harmed? What if you're hurt and no one is there to aid you?" You don't like this almost childish way he seems to view you - once he'd doted on you, though now it almost seems as if he doesn't trust you to walk without some grievous injury befalling you. He's coddling you.

As an outsider, Vilkas had always appeared confident, headstrong, willing to tackle any problem. He's strong and intelligent and well spoken, of course he can handle things. As a partner, you've been surprised by his avoidance. When you were a recruit he had no trouble voicing your many faults, even as his Harbinger he's been critical - but not his partner. Those problems remain firmly within his own mind. You know he bottles them up, stewing on these emotions until he talks himself out of being upset, rationalizing everything. "If you don't tell me what it is you need, I cannot give it to you." You've pleaded with him, desperate to make this work. "I love you more than I can say - please, all I need is for you to talk to me." "There is nothing to talk about."

Farkas' recklessness had saved your ass on many occasions, but as his spouse it left you a nervous wreck. He'd often laugh off your worries before leaving for days, unable to communicate due to clearing out some bandit camp. His lack of self preservation reduced you to a mess of nerves, trying to work through it but unable to stop your eyes from wandering each time a door opened. "It's not a big deal." Farkas pouts, kneeling before you. His armor's all strapped into place and a pack of supplies hangs over one shoulder - he's about to leave again. Your heart kicks into overdrive, fingers shaking when they clasp the sides of his face. "I always come back safe, dear." He reminds you, that easy grin on his face. "Do you not trust me out there without you?" "I'd feel quite a bit better if I were at your side." You admit, staring pointedly at the sword slung across his back. "We do work well together." He agrees, a kiss planted on your cheek before he stands. "But you're the Harbinger, you have more important duties." Of course you did - your duties included paperwork and worrying, both of which were beginning to wear on your nerves.

You can't fault poor Cicero for his inexperience - he spent far too many years alone, no one but the Night Mother to keep him company. Isolation had changed him, left him lacking the knowledge many others took for granted. Of course you love him, you'd fallen head over heels for the fool and never looked back, but your relationship didn't come without it's own trials. He'd never learned the common things to do in a relationship; little things many couples did like dates were nonexistent and he had no clue how a normal relationship was paced. Falling for each other was easy, why hold back? Why not go all the way? It didn't help that his relationship with the other assassins was strained at best - some were friendly, others shut him out entirely. You were the only one he could turn to, the only one willing to share a meal and a laugh with your beloved Keeper. "Listener, will you teach poor Cicero how to love you?" He coos, gently combing the hair away from your face. Your first instinct is to refuse, to tell him that it's too much - but the peaceful smile melts your heart. "I want to love you the right way."

Often, you find yourself what Mercer likes more - being with you or keeping secrets from you. He omits things that don't even matter which only heightens your anxiety on the topic; if he's willing to lie about something as trivial as who went on what job or which client he's meeting with, what else could he be hiding from you? You tell yourself that it's nothing, just a survival trait he's picked up over the decades of leading the Thieves Guild, but it's impossible to ignore. He doesn't seem to enjoy the jealousy it incites within you but you can't quite puzzle out what he gets from it. In the end, it's easier to accept that he merely enjoys keeping secrets. Only the gods knew how long it had been since he'd last opened up to anyone and you were afraid that prying would make him snap shut the little window you've carved out in his heart.

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Back again, I see. Didn't get enough from the last snippet? I don't blame you. Today I have a special treat in "Idiots being idiots" for you. Still working on my latest chapter and almost done. I'll be posting this Friday!

All I have to say about this snippet is: YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM.

I was tagged by the lovely @ladytanithia @mareenavee and @elfinismsarts.

And I would like to pass the tag to: @oblivions-dawn @rainpebble3 @paraparadigm @tallmatcha @changelingsandothernonsense @dirty-bosmer @frankensonnet @blossom-adventures @gilgamish @rose-like-the-phoenix @archangelsunited @orfeoarte @skyrim-forever

Without so much as a glance to the other occupants of the room, Ulfric swiftly makes his way over to his wife, taking one of her warm hands firmly in his and pulling her up from her throne to lead her out of the Great Hall.

“My heart,” he begins as he looks down at her, the corners of his lips pressed down in concern.

“I know what you’re going to say Ulfric, but—”

He stops suddenly, turning her to face him and placing a hand under her chin so she is forced to look up at him. For a moment, he says nothing more, only looking at her with gentleness in his eyes, before leaning down to press his lips to hers.

The kiss is soft and sweet—reminiscent of those first days with her where they were guided only by their wants and not forced so much to think about their needs nor obligations. Slowly, his arms come up to wrap around her and draw her in closer, pressing them as close as he can while his hands roam up and down her sides in carefully-measured circles. By now he knows very well the answer to what she wants as much as she needs: a bit of warm affection until she yields to him. 

And after a few seconds, there it is. A shiver which rolls down her spine, comforting like the cooling rains after the unbearable heat of Last Seed. She sighs as she leans into him, and he takes advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth and deepening their kiss. He breathes her in as much as he can, selfishly enjoying the feeling of her in is arms and what his touch does to her.

No one ever said he was always a good man. This is as much for him as it is for her.

Eventually, she pulls back from him, inhaling deeply as if he had stolen the very air from her lungs. When she regains her voice, it is barely above a whisper. “What was that all about?” 

A hand moves to cup her cheek before burying itself into her hair. “Do I need a reason to kiss my wife and mother of my future child?”

“Well, no but…aren’t you going to scold me for being out of bed?”

“Do you want me to?” His hand moves from her hair to slide down to the small of her back.

She sighs.“No, not particularly.”

“Then, I won’t but—”

“Here it comes…”

His lips turn up into a teasing smile. “—you should be in bed.”

Dahlia shakes her head but laughs despite herself. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“You’re quite right.” He leans forward to kiss her again, this time on the forehead. “I can’t resist you, but you still need to go back to bed.”