#bougainvillea-and-saltwater

[aureli-us]

HI, I may be a bit late to this, but from the ask game:

1, 4, 11, 13, for Tharya? 😍

SORRY THIS TOOK ME 93728292 YEARS TO GET TO!! i promise i've had this in my drafts forever i just had to finish it... for anyone interested the original ask game is here and i'd love to hear more requests!!

1) Does your OC have a voice claim? If so, who?

UNFORTUNATELY not! i have looked around a couple times though. in my head she has a an american accent since that, to me, is natural - but lately i've been looking into scandi accents and such! i'm sort of leaning towards a finnish or norwegian accent, moreso finnish a bit, i just prefer the way it sounds. in relation to miraak's accent she would probably have a bit of trouble understanding him early on since i assume his accent would sound (and is) very thick and archaic to her ears, and he speaks the common tongue slowly (on purpose). in-game he overpronounces/pronunciates things quite...thickly? i imagine his accent would be much heavier than tharya's, though possibly also recognizable to the nords as related to their own. tharya's accent would also be noticeably different to her countrymen bc her father is from cyrodiil, but idk what real world accent cyrods would have. same goes for her siblings! but unfortunately everyone besides miraak has american accents in my head lol

4) What song describes your OC & their partner?

okay i'm really bad at making playlists BUT i do happen to have a tharyaak one....i will link it here hehehe but my favs for them are probably:

lay all your love on me - abba

wish i knew you - the revivalists

put your head on my shoulder - paul anka

just the two of us - grover washington ft. bill withers

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

HONESTLY what a question. tharya was born of my very first skyrim OC fane - the character i first created when i got the game + finished the main quest for the first time ever with. i was never 100% happy with fane though, and somehow as i grew increasingly bored with not knowing what to do with her, i decided to change her name. at first it was just that, but then i wanted to change her appearance too; i wanted an LDB who looked like the most boring run of the mill LDB possible: a blonde nord. i wanted that so i could give her intense characterization and depth that would pull people in after sort of tricking them with her appearance of being just another white blonde nord LDB. that's also why i made her a mage. i wanted her to exist as this dichotomy. a lot of tharya's emotional depth comes from me since she is my oldest running OC and i needed a place for my problems, so they became hers: estranged from her brother, struggling with femininity, self-image, love, intimacy. some of it i also just dreamt up to create a more battered and wearied LDB: alcoholism, her constant wish to return to sovngarde, her reckless self-endagerment, her feeling slighted by the world not recognizing her after killing alduin. i want her to be a tired hero who is kind and warm, but has fought with all she could ever give to be kind and warm. and, if you spit in her face, her kindness and warmth are not feeble, nor endless. sometimes she skips being nice because she's sick of it all.

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

HMMM. well besides early miraak lemme think... if i had to pick, maybe........

MAN i don't think she really does??? maybe i'm just blanking. i can't even in good conscience say miraak because they weren't REALLY rivals to begin with, more like star-crossed enemies....tharya's biggest rival may sort of be herself, at least in earlier years. she kind of got way too into her own head after killing alduin and it let to a pretty substantial depressive/alcoholic episode. i can't say ulfric either because she really didn't consider ulfric a rival, he was a lesser opponent, and an unfortunate duty to carry out. so idk if she has a set rival really in the sense we could think of a hero vs rival way. cool to think abt tho!

[hircines-hunter]

ᛖᛚᛖᛏᛏᚱᚨ + ᚠᛖᚾᚱᛁᚱ

for @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

The Emmrich brainrot continues, and do I ever have plans. Iris and Emmrich will be attending a ball in the Necropolis because I could not resist the siren song of them dancing together. (...or the idea of them later sneaking off into the Memorial Gardens for some--alone time.) ;) As for now, this is not spicy, but I do plan on turning up the heat later. For now, enjoy the intro...

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @hircines-hunter @hannah-heartstrings @skyrim-forever

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @firefly-factory @umbracirrus @theoneandonlysemla @illumiera

@pocket-vvardvark @vivifriend

“What do you think, Manfred? Is it too much?” Iris turns, looking over herself in the mirror in front of her, as she smooths down the velvet and lace of the dress she wears. How was it that she had Neve talk her into putting this thing on. It’s far too—

Hissss. The skeleton almost sounds pleased, or at least as pleased as the undead can, as he rocks on his toes, the tea set in his hands clattering precariously.

“I told you already, Iris. You look lovely. All you have to do is have confidence and walk with your shoulders back, head held high.” Neve walks over to her and pokes between her exposed shoulder blades to make her point. “The Necropolis won’t know what hit them.”

“I’m not trying to impress them. I—”

“Well then, Emmrich.” The hint of a teasing smile curls her lips. “Send him to an early grave, so to speak, of course.”

“I—”

Words are not needed, as a single glance from the detective tells her she shouldn’t even try to deny what she knows. Or rather what the whole of the Lighthouse knows. While their relationship is still new, both she and Emmrich have been dancing around each other for weeks. This is only the unnecessary confirmation the rest of them needed—that he would ask her to the Necromancer’s Ball.

For the third time, Iris picks at the edge of the fine lace lining the almost scandalous neckline of the dress that she is in.

“Stop picking at it or you’ll ruin it.” Neve smacks her arm lightly with a chuckle. 

“It’s just that I have never worn something like this before, and I’ll be going home, and I’m not entirely sure this is proper, and—”

“It’s more than proper, and you look beautiful, Iris.” Bellara nods her head enthusiastically. “You look like a proper,” she puts a finger to her lips in thought, “queen of the dead. Like from one of the serials I read.” She sighs.

Iris smiles at her friend as she laughs lightly. “Thank you, Bellara, but the only thing I’ll be queen of is all the eyes which will stare at me—at us.” She throws her up to her face, being careful not to smudge all of the hard work her friends did on her makeup. She’s certain Neve would never let her head the end of it.

“Let them stare, and let them be jealous. Isn’t that right, Fred?” Neve inclines her head towards him.

Hissss. The tea set clatters again before the detective takes it.

“See? Even your skeleton son agrees with me. Now go and have fun.”

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone it’s another Wednesday ✨ Thanks for the tag @hircines-hunter loved seeing blorbo children and I’m also bringing blorbo children 🥰

Tagging: @lucien-lachance @dirty-bosmer (know you’re v busy so tagging you so you can have a laugh 🤭) @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark @ladytanithia @umbracirrus

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @captain-of-silvenar @changelingsandothernonsense @thequeenofthewinter @scholarlyhermit (if you’d like to join in ☺️)

This week I’m working on finishing the second part of a fic I put out in November called You Didn’t Say Your Parents Were… in which Theodora’s daughter brings home her new boyfriend from the CoW to meet her family. This snippet is over dinner while Theo is sharing some of her Skyrim stories, particularly how she wound up in Cidhna Mine and her eldest is being a bit of a shit disturber 😛

“Oddly comforting to hear Markarth has not changed.” Theodora and Ondolemar share a knowing look before he leaves the room.

“Some things never change, love.” Looking back at him, she provides the truth. “The first time I went to Markarth, I cannot remember what brought me there now, but I ended up investigating corruption within the city. There’s more corruption than there is city, truthfully. That investigation got me thrown in the prison, Cidhna Mine, a dreadful place where supposedly you earn your freedom mining silver. Not that anyone has gained freedom, let us not be mistaken. Only prison in Skyrim to be privately owned. It was there I met the Forsworn leader, the King in Rags Madanach and aided him in escaping. He managed to escape and just when I thought I’d be hauled back to prison, the Jarl’s guards told me my name was clear. Apologized for arresting the Dragonborn and the Silver-Blood family, Markarth’s elite who own half the city, even held a celebration for me. A way for them to cover themselves, arresting the Dovahkiin is not a good look and I was also newly joined the Legion. They did not need the Empire looking too closely at them.” She sighs deeply. “But I did not defeat Madanach, I was sympathetic to their cause but honestly I was more concerned with not rotting underground for the rest of my life.”

There had been much, much more to the story than Ralos anticipated, but how intriguing was it to learn that the truth was far stranger than the rumours made it seem. Heroism was complex as he was learning, rather rapidly, over dinner of all things.

“I’m so sorry to hear that Mrs. Vi-” He stops himself, falling into old habits. “Theodora, that sounds terrifying. Ceri has mentioned wanting to visit Markarth but now I know it is best to avoid it entirely.”

“You’re very sweet Ralos, but I would not worry. I think you two should visit, we own property there, Vindral Hall, you two would be more than welcomed there.” He gives her a puzzled look. “Though Markarth has a bad reputation, my experience being on the worse end, I have plenty of wonderful memories there. Beautiful architecture you will not find in another city, waterfalls, a very good alchemist at the time. And it was at that celebration that I met the children’s father for the first time.” Ondolemar returns at the tailend of this, new bottle of wine in hand. By Mephala these people can drink it seemed the wine was never ending. The Altmer refills her goblet yet again.

“That is true, we met that night. Though I did not know of your extent of your treatment there at the time, it was completely unacceptable.”

“You would have taken issue with it, even then?”

“Of course.” He responds. A faint snicker is heard from beside him, Arthano noticing there has been peace for too long.

“That’s doubtful.” Ondolemar makes the rounds refilling goblets, conveniently between Ricardo and the older one at the moment.

“We always encourage you to share your thoughts, speak.” Addressing his mother, he does share his thoughts on the matter. Sharing a bit of the messiness Ralos expected earlier.

“Well, and I say this will all due respect, Ata. Nothing but respect for you.” Reaching his arm out, he offers his father a reassuring look. “But wasn’t he awful when you first met? Or rather less awful and more…” He pauses, thinking hard for the right word.” “Stereotypical? Yes, that’s the nicest way to put it.”

“How kind my son is to me.”

If you asked the Dunmer if he enjoyed gossip, he would firmly say no. That he found no pleasure in the personal lives of others, no matter how juicy the details. Affairs, bribery, secret children. No, no when his aunt discussed those matters with her friends he ignored everything. Certainly never listened in, shocked by the hidden lives of the population of Narsis. Even further, he only listened a little when the other students would gossip, they conversed loudly in front of him, it was hard to not hear. And of course Ceri would tell him things but, he was listening to his girlfriend. That’s all, making sure she was heard and understood. Which is what he is doing now, making sure he is attentive to her family and if he happens to learn more inadvertently than, so be it. A very annoyed sigh is heard as Ondolemar begrudgingly gives his son more drink.

“That is between your mother and I, how do you even learn that?”

“Blame Aunt Phy, she tells me things! Also told me mother had a whole arena career I didn’t know about until I wanted to join.” Theodora laughs.

“Your aunt would say that, both those things. Do not hold your father’s past transgressions against him.” It is a quick comment, low and vaguely hushed.

“That woman let’s me have no dignity.” Their mother continues her point.

“It was a very different phase of life, for both of us. Clearly everything turned out as it was meant to. Is it not enough to torture your siblings, you must do so your father as well.” Returning to his seat, their father makes one more remark in response to Arthano.

“Should you ever consider a career change, your quick wit would serve you well as a jester. You could inquire as early as tomorrow.” The whole table snickers and even he laughs.

“Well played Ata, perhaps I deserved that.”

“Perhaps indeed.”

[red-mountain-flower]

jia, @bougainvillea-and-saltwater’s lovely last dragonborn!

[theoneandonlysemla]

WIP Whunday

Brain went like: Dürer self portrait + Dracula’s outfit + Mannimarco.

Yeah, that’s what I did all day and so much is still missing. Decided against yellow skin because meh. Loved the sketch tho!

Tagging (if you like): @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @did3lphis @dirty-bosmer @elavoria

@firefly-factory @hircines-hunter @illumiera @lillxart

@ladytanithia @pocket-vvardvark @sheirukitriesfandom @thequeenofthewinter

@vanilleeistee @skyrim-forever

No pressure here, I know it’s in between the holidays ;)

[moriche]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It is wednesday my guys, gals and non-binary pals! First of all, a happy new year to everyone! I actually got a bit of writing done this week - hopefully I'll be able to treat everyone to a new chapter of Fear soon enough! I haven't really edited much yet, but I think I got the core of the transition scene finally done. Tagged by @sulphuricgrin @umbracirrus @skyrim-forever @hircines-hunter

And because I love seeing what everyone is up to and I like tagging folks: @thequeenofthewinter @truth-01001001-liar @pocket-vvardvark @illumiera @dei2dei @tafferling @unknownhomosapien @kat-tail @nyarevar @changelingsandothernonsense @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @oblivions-dawn @nuwanders @scorchedcandy @saltymaplesyrup @dirty-bosmer @ladytanithia @thenotebookwizard @tonakuma

If you want to get on or off Ms. Moriche's Wild Ride, please tag me or DM me and I'll make a note and add or remove you!

And also tagged are YOU! YES! YOU!

Ever since they’d left Balmora, every exchange between Veryn and Caius had been brief, each conversation carefully crafted to be as unoffensive as possible - and after five days of hiding behind a shield of measured politeness, Veryn could not stand it any longer. Caius’ quiet gaze lingered on his shoulders every night, as the spymaster silently studied the rites Veryn performed, challenging him, inviting him to speak up. “I threw my lot in with Azura,” Veryn said, wondering if this would bring him and Caius back at each others throat. “She’s supposed to care about Nerevar. After all, she cursed us Dunmer for his death. If I have to deal with her sooner or later, it might as well be sooner if she can save me from the madness of the Sixth House.” Did she curse the Three because they betrayed Nerevar? Or because they broke their oath to her? Caius nodded, too slow and too thoughtful and too unreadable. “I presume the Urshilaku Wise Woman taught you, then. Has it done you any good, so far?” How should he take Caius’ words? Were they meant as a genuine question? Were they a backhanded insult — an interpretation fueled by Veryn’s paranoia and distrust? He looked like hell and felt like it too, worn out by travel and worry, always on the move, never quite able to catch his breath. “Dagoth Ur hasn’t visited me since I started praying to Her.” Veryn traced the edge of the flat block of slate he’d used as a makeshift altar. “But apparently, sleeping better means that my body gets to catch up on my exhaustion of the past near decade. Besides, we’ll be at Mamaea tomorrow, and the nearer we get there, the worse I sleep. There’s something wrong about that place. That bone cavern I saw - the entire cave system reminds me of a long-dead corpse.” “It might be one.” Sharn had been watching them from near the campfire, her face cast aglow by the flickering flames. “It’s what people say about Necrom, the City of the Dead over on the Mainland. Mamaea might be another remnant of Vivec’s monstrous children, lost in the ash for millennia.”

[illumiera]

WIP Wednesday

thank you so much for the tags, @hircines-hunter, @umbracirrus, @theoneandonlysemla, and @sulphuricgrin! 💖

I don't have any art WIPs to show (yet.), but what I do have is an excerpt from the next chapter of i fear no fate (for you are my fate), which is now around halfway done! so, here's Miraak making a something of a Decision™️:

No sooner does Lucien steal out of the room than a soft, plaintive little sound tumbles from Elentari’s mouth. She’s shivering, Miraak realises then, chilled to the very marrow even beneath the heavy embroidered quilts; if he listens, he can hear the rapid chattering of her teeth from where he sits. The gentlest of fire spells he could possibly conjure, glowing like candlelight in the palm of a hand he could wrap around both of hers at once—that would warm her well enough, just as she must have warmed him at the shore of the frozen lake all those thousands of years in the past for him and mere hours ago for her. And yet, he can’t help but think with a rush of longing that sweeps away his breath, he would be able to warm her much, much more thoroughly if he were to climb in beside her, draw her close, and share the heat of his own body with her… Believe this of me, Elentari: I desire nothing from you that you are neither willing nor ready to give, he had sworn to her, and his resolution to never, ever give her cause to doubt his words stands steadfast as ever. But this—to do this wouldn’t be to ask anything of her, would it? It would be an offer of that aid which is in his power to lend, and he would expect nothing in return. “You have guarded me in so many of my dreams, mal dovahdin,” he murmurs to her as he inches back the covers. “Let me grant you the same comfort, if only for a single night.”

there! but of course, Elentari is sound asleep, isn't she? she definitely won't wake up and realise just who's keeping her warm, will she? not at all, not at all...

no pressure tags: @pinessydr @madam-whim @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @bostoniangirl21 @miraakulous-cloud-district @elavoria @bougainvillea-and-saltwater and @firebastardextraordinaire!

[pocket-vvardvark]

🎉 2024 wrap up! 🎉

Ty ty @skyrim-forever and @thequeenofthewinter for tagging me!!

I'd like to tag: @fangsandsoftgrass @hircines-hunter @aviel-the-trans-bucket @progmetol @lucius-the-sinful @scholarlyhermit @sanza-17 @madamefluffnstuff @theoneandonlysemla @rvnwtch @yewphoric @yansurnummu @sulphuricgrin @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @bostoniangirl21 @illumiera @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @firefly-factory and anyone else who would like to! I'm sorry, I'm sure my memory is forgetting someone 😔♥️♥️ but I love you all!! 😽♥️

1. Alethia in her glowy dress

2. Alethia being sad (rip queen)

3. Auntie Shana being a hot werewolf

4. Auntie Shana posing like a queen

5. Fennorian got...tied up in some vines 😈 (idea from @fangsandsoftgrass 😏)

Also just a note, I know I probably say this five trillion times, but I love this community. I love each and every single one of you for your kindness and ability to uplift, find inspiration, and be there for each other. Countless times during this year, I fell into a pit that I thought I couldn't crawl out of, and yet I did. While I give myself some credit, I don't think I would have found that light without interacting with someone else. Truly, I owe it to the community for staying strong. I love you guys xoxox 😽🫂🫂🫂

[skyrim-crossing]

No Matter Where You Are (TES Fanfiction)

Hey guys! I'm in the process of scouring my AO3 for things I want to keep, rewrite or give up on so I can post all of my new (and frankly better) pieces. I found one of my most recent fanfictions on there, and as such, it is the highest quality content I currently have uploaded to my account. Thought I would share it here!

I am still working on my overhauled introduction to Obsidian, so please be patient and I hope you can enjoy this with her old context lmao.

Going to tag some of my beloved mutuals, apologies if I'm being annoying here 😭🩵 @lady-iizsil @hircines-hunter @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @skyrim-forever @pocket-vvardvark @lucius-the-sinful @hadvarandralof @sulphuricgrin @arugullla

Thank you so much for anyone who decides to read! Stay hydrated, stay safe, have a great day and blessed be! <3 - Ash

The two moons loomed high in the night sky. The peaceful ambience of nocturnal creatures filled the air between the swaying of the grass and trees, creating a serene, mystical environment. These seemingly magical places were hidden by a blue mist and intangible barriers. Mortals lived amongst these structures of magnificence and mystery and were oblivious to their existence. The only ones who had access to them were the ones who knew where to find them...

Read here

[pinessydr]

Thank @illumiera and @madam-whim for the almost simultaneous wip-wednesday tagging :3 I'm so excited! Here is a piece of writing about my Morokei. TW: violence

The flame comes predictably but abruptly. And there is nothing more: no sky, no earth, no wind on his cheeks, no cold in his bones, no world around him. Only pain, crimson and flaming, piercing and tedious, so much that he wants to run away, hide, beg or die, just to stop it. But not to give up, oh, no, not to give up. The taste of his own teeth fills his mouth, simultaneously with the smell of the burned hair touching his nose. It seems a little longer, and his eyelashes will burn, then his eyelids, and finally, his eyes will crack and run down his face. Crows like to take them, right? As from somebody far away, he hears his own scream and feels the staff drop out of his palms, destroyed by the other's power. But he does not resist it. Accepts it all as deeply as possible.

And then rips out what Ruvaak did not want to give away. After the heat comes ice and disappears, leaving only pure energy. Morokei drinks it greedily, as he once did with the water in the desert, devouring all without a shred of doubt, sip after sip until his head drives with euphoria. Ruvaak realizes what is happening too late: a whip of fluid flame slams into Morokei with a howl, just to disappear, consumed by hunger.

The air around him rumbles, unable to contain the raging power. Ruvaak doesn't have much left, and after emptying him to the bottom, Morokei takes up the life energy with a bit of disappointment. It doesn't taste like human flesh but nourishes his own: slowly but surely, he gets back to his feet. For the first time in a while, none of them hurt, and he can take a confident step. One.

“Fus!” a shout that could break down bastions comes at him with all the force of hidden despair. At the distance between them, even the weakest Voice could turn a body into a bloody pulp, but Morokei doesn't care. “Ro,” he answers with the Word of Balance, feeling it within. With a disgusting crackle, the night crumbles into shards of obsidian.

Now, @asianbutnotjapanese @pelinalblancserpent @starrythroat @darling-leech @bougainvillea-and-saltwater, would you like to share something? Of course, you are welcome to bring a piece of art into this world, too!

[sulphuricgrin]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by the lovely @hircines-hunter <3

If you've done one already today, ignore me! But no pressure tagging: @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @oblivions-dawn @yewphoric @gamevoidartblog @pocket-vvardvark @bookworm-driven-insane

@illumiera @sanza-17 @fangsandsoftgrass @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

I decided I might actually do the Lilli and Kamlehal drawing. Changed the body posture. Last one felt too stiff. And decided I liked the Lilli smiling doodle too much to keep it a doodle. The clothes will kill me, I know it. But you can't get better if you ignore doing it. Fuck, I'll have to do a background??

And I'm trying my hand at a third daedra design. This time based off Bigfin Squid! I might use it in my fic, even have an idea when it's used (the first two will also be used, because why not?) also with mortal for scale

[hircines-hunter]

Under the Auroras

Jia and Sifkni for me and @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

i hardly do background because they suck. but I love aurora and night sky.

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Happy 2025 to all of you lovely and talented individuals out there. I have already seen SO many beautiful works out there, so I know that creative energy is flowing.

Throwing my Idiots (tm) out there. There is some slightly suggestive content here as our boy (tm) starts to get a bit handsy, but nothing too explicit. (Also adding some bonus art WIP of these two that I am working on which is still in the lining stage.)

Tagging the talented: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @skyrim-forever @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @hircines-hunter

@sulphuricgrin @umbracirrus @pocket-vvardvark @firefly-factory @theoneandonlysemla

@vivifriend @hannah-heartstrings @inkysqueed and...ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO PARTY! <3 No pressure however.

The ground gives forth again with a quake, and Ulfric reels as his legs buckle underneath him until he is kneeling. Great clouds of ash and dust obscure his vision, the fog of many souls covering the landscape around him making it impossible for him to see what is causing this noise. Alone and completely in the dark, he raises his axe again as a dark shadow makes its way to him.

“Ulfric?” A voice calls out to him, and for a moment he is certain his mind is playing tricks on him. It cannot be. 

The shadow moves again as two inky black splotches unfurl to reach towards the sky.

“Ulfric? Come closer…”

It has to be some strange magic, a new manner of psychological torture, and he will not fall for it. He shifts his weight to the balls of his feet and slowly moves forward, his axe ready to sing through the air at a moment’s notice.

“Ulfric, it’s you.” This time the voice is right next to his ear, wrapping around his ear warmly like a lover’s caress. 

He doesn’t wait any longer. Hesitate and you die. Blink and you fail. His body moves on its own accord, springing into action as his axe cuts through the air.

Zun Haal Viik

Ulfric’s arms drop to his waist in disbelief, weapon landing with a dull thud into the ground.

“Dahlia.” He barely get the syllables out as his wife’s hands throw themselves around him, and he picks her up, spinning her around. He can breathe again. A bright smile slides its way onto his face, joy flowing through his veins. 

“What ever are you doing all the way out here? You should be at home! I told you specifically not to—”

Dahlia’s words are hushed by a frantic kiss, Ulfric’s lips crashing against her own and nipping demandingly at them.

It has been at least seven months since he has seen her—since he has tasted her, and he will not wait one second more now that she is within reach.

One of his hands slips up and through the tangled strands of her unraveling braid as he pull her down, demanding more, and it is all she can do to gasp for a quick breath as his tongue buries its way into her mouth. 

Flashes of heat pool and then rise, winding searing tongues burning through her as they wind their way up her body. She can feel the warmth of his knuckles as they come down to trace her cheeks before they dip down to slide to the curve of her breast. Another gasp which turns into a strangled whine when one of his fingers flick over a nipple. Only he would be so bold to forget himself in the middle of a battlefield in an attempt to ravage her.

“Ulfric,” her hands come up to cup his face on both sides to pull him back from her, her eyes searching his. How she had missed their color being the first thing she sees in the mornings.

However, her husband has other ideas regarding her brief departure from what he was doing, a frustrated groan leaving him as he tries to surge forward again only for her to stop him once more.

Dahlia chuckles as she presses her forehead to his. Safety. The first time she has felt the familiar comfort of its embrace in far too long. “I missed you.”

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone and welcome to another wip wednesday ❤️ I was tagged by @thequeenofthewinter and I am tagging:

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @dirty-bosmer @captain-of-silvenar @lucien-lachance @pocket-vvardvark @theoneandonlysemla

@firefly-factory @ladytanithia @sulphuricgrin @changelingsandothernonsense @umbracirrus @moriche

@hircines-hunter @scholarlyhermit

So I have been encouraged by some lovely friends (you know who you are ❤️) to explore a Modern AU Theomar as spies. Have no idea if this will end up on ao3 as life is in a strange place right now but I've been playing around with how to incorporate events of Skyrim into a modern context. But this snippet is mostly them flirting at the bar 😛 Under the cut because suggestive a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up whore ass behaviour

“Can I get a between the sheets, with Colovian brandy if you have it?” 

“I’m afraid we’ve only got Cyrodiliic brandy and Geef.” They have Geef but not Colovian? Puzzled as to how the brandy from Morrowind is more common here, she orders the closest of the two.

“I’ll take the Cyrodilic.” As her suspicions were correct, the bar is almost empty save for a figure on the other end, it takes no time for her drink to appear. “Thank you.” 

The citrus of the orange liquor is delicious and burn from the brandy is familiar, thoughts of having five or six more tempt her; nursing a hangover at work was not the worst. That too was familiar, once she had even given a briefing to the Director after an attempt to empty the city’s sujamma supply. Wretched headache but she was good at her job. If not for the fact there was a meeting scheduled for first thing in the morning tomorrow, a meeting to establish the collaboration with those Altmeri Dominion diplomats, Theodora would have thrown her uncharacteristic caution to the wind. But tomorrow required everyone to be at their most professional to be thrown into the den of vipers, as her colleague Dram put it. Dramatic as always. Yet, she harboured a few concerns of her own. An odd way to describe them as even she knew they were not here in the spirit of diplomacy, that was evident based on her prior interactions with the Thalmor in Cyrodiil. Sarce they were, but it was obvious they had a need to put their golden hands over everything. The war hadn’t stopped, it just became hidden. 

As she finishes the drink, the last of the liquid is not yet swallowed when another is brought to her. 

“From the elf over there.” Too focused on drinking and thoughts of work, the agent forgot such a basic skill in her line of work: observation. Bringing the figure from her periphery to the centre of her vision, her concerns about the Altmer she’ll meet tomorrow are exchanged with intrigue at the one looking at her. Looking at his strong jawline and thinking about how satisfying it would be to grip his black tie, it doesn’t matter that he has a buzzcut. Different in very many ways he was. Offering him a smile and downing the drink, she approaches the stool beside him, sitting as she starts the conversation. 

“What are you drinking?” It’s almost unfortunate how handsome he is, now close enough to see the details on his face. Only somewhat knowledgeable on guessing a mer’s age, she can tell his over one hundred but beyond that she’s uncertain. Not that it matters. The slight chuckle he does is attractive, as is his voice. 

“Supposedly a Fine Elven Wine.” Very fitting she thinks. “Yet it is neither fine nor a wine, certainly not Elven.” Taking the glass from his hands, swirling it for a moment before she sips. Gagging at the taste. The mer laughs harder now. 

“Gods, that is disgusting. Here, let me get you something better.” Once again flagging down the bartender, she orders him a Collequiva, a fancy imperial wine. Watching as he has a taste, it seems it is satisfactory. 

“Hmm, better than I expected. Thank you…” Ah names, might be good to do that now.

“Theodora” she says. 

“Ondolemar.” 

Introductions out of the way, names all that needed to be exchanged; personal details kept under wraps due both to the secrecy of her work and her desire for privacy. Any other information he would need could be figured out after. In the event she found herself in his lap she could let him know what treatment she expects; deciding to start leading them there, she asks him a question. 

“Do you often buy human women drinks from across the bar?” His people in particular frowned upon such relations, would be good to gauge where his thoughts on the matter lied. 

“Would you believe I do not?”

“I would actually.” Why did he then… 

“You look too exquisite to sit alone at the bar, I have a feeling that this was not part of your original evening plans.” A bit taken aback but such a compliment as she was used to very different words from men, but the rest of his response is curious. It was a leap in logic to assume that off of what she is wearing alone, but it was correct. How did he know that?

“And what would you know of my plans? Maybe I wanted to get dressed up just to sit at the Winking Skeevar?” He dryly chuckles, drinking more of her recommendation. 

“Well then. I would say there are better bars to do that at. This one leaves much to be desired.” 

“Then why are you here?” She says. 

“My residence is nearby, it is convenient.” A reasonable enough answer, she had done many things because it was convenient at the time, many men fell into this category. Not the best but around. Good enough for the job that was pleasing her. Perhaps her eyes should not have lingered on his forearms, the neatly rolled fabric that was tight around the middle of them. Not lingering now, they trail up and over his torso as she imagines ripping the white button up off, let the buttons scatter and litter the floor. 

Returning to his initial comment on her appearance, she questions the word he used. 

“So I look exquisite?” A straightforward start, she’s curious where he’ll go with it. 

“You do, that is a lovely dress.” A straightforward answer, safe. It’s too safe so she amps things up a bit with a little test to figure out what kind of guy he is. 

“Hmm, well I’ve been told before by men that it does not leave much to the imagination.” 

“Then they do not have a very good imagination, now do they?” Another sip, more than a sip, a full mouthful and then he continues. “A simple man imagines merely the body, they neglect to think all which you can do with it.” Her widened eyes have him mistaken that he overstepped in his words, something which could not be further from the truth as she is imagining all the things she’d like to do with him. “I may have already had too much to drink.” 

“Oh I wouldn’t say that, Ondolemar.” Her hand reaches for his tie, tracing her hands along the complex knot securing it and enjoying the fact that although he is smirking, how he tenses does not go unnoticed. “I like a man who is forward.” 

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

HA! SURPRISE WIP WEDNESDAY!! 🐸

In which it is *me* that's the most surprised about the fact that not only do I have something to share, but I am also initiating the tag game. 😌

WE FINALLY HAVE THE FROG!RAVVY LORE! And a glimpse into Ravvy's youth and college friends. They make me so terribly emotional and I want to write a whole-ass prequel about them and the shenanigans they did as students.

*

“What?” Moria asks, her voice muffled by her cigarette. Ah, yes, the smoking healer, truly a work of ironic art.

“We need your help-” Syndolin starts to say, brows furrowed and clearly trying to mask his concern.

“-I TURNED RAVVY INTO A FROG!” Rolis interrupts him.

“You what?!” She asks, but before she can slap the living Oblivion out of the young mage, she can hear a ribbit, then another… then another, and it’s coming from… Syndolin’s pocket?

“I swear if this is a prank-”

“Trust me, I wish it was…” Syndolin mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and reaching into his pocket, very gingerly retrieving a milk frog. 

Moria takes a deep breath as reality sets in. Those green eyes clearly betray their owner. It is indeed destruction adept Ravonna, for some reason. “Why?”

“I just wanted to practice! And this was not the intended result, I promise you.”

“And what exactly was the intended result?” 

“I wanted to swap their looks…” he vaguely gestures to where Syndolin is holding Frog Ravonna to his chest.

“Aaand that’s where you come in, right? You fucking enabler.” She points to the Altmer.

“Who am I to stop the inevitable progression of magic? Besides, she wanted to do it even more than me.”

“THAT IS NOT THE POINT! You know spell-brewing is forbidden without supervision, and PEER EXPERIMENTATION IS EVEN MORE FORBIDDEN! It the most forbiddenest thing!” 

“Croak!” 

“Oh, you shut it!”

*

To give a twinge of context: they're probably in their second or third year as mage students in Vivec. Moria studies the school of Restoration, while Rolis studies Illusion. They're both dunmer. Syndolin and Ravonna are both in the Destruction Magic school. My headcanon is that once enrolled in the Mage College, you need to chose a major specialization and focus on that. While these 4 have different majors, they still have plenty of courses in common.

The writing is wonky and kind of bad, but I wanted to share this with y'all :')

Sorry if some of you already did this. I am still very much out of the loop, but trying my best to squeeze back into this fandom.

Also, Moria is not named after the One Piece character, she is named after a dwarf power metal song I've been obsessing with. And while it is the name of the old forgotten Dwarven city in LOTR, the name sounds very Dunmer-ish to me.

Tagging @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @hircines-hunter @dirty-bosmer @nerevar-quote-and-star @illumiera @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @bostoniangirl21