#morrowind modern au

[da3drat]

I was looking for something else entirely and found this old snippet from the university au and honestly I liked it so much I had to post it lol. Meri teaches a third era history of Morrowind class (this is not why she was hired, they just make her teach it because she's oddly knowledgeable about the subject).

A hand shot up in Meri's peripheral vision and she grimaced. She knew exactly what was coming, it always did eventually.

"Sadri." She called on the student.

"But what happened to her after that?"

"To whom?"

"The Nerevarine. The primary source said she married Almalexia, is that true?"

"Most historical accounts seem to agree on that, yes."

"But how? Why? I mean she worked with the Ashlanders and the Dissident Priests. She read the alternate histories. Didn't she doubt her safety?"

Meri sighed. These questions had been so much easier to dismiss fifty years ago when she was still teaching exclusively Temple doctrine. In the years since several heretical documents had leaked with the Ashlander's account and been added to the historical conversation around the Tribunal.

"You would have to ask her that. There's no knowing for sure. However we do have some journal entries from her, and they don't seem to imply any kind of fear." She hoped that would end the conversation, but her hopes never seemed to turn out.

"They're SAPPY, too." Another student chimed in.

She should have burned that damn journal.

"Oh my gods, this passage killed me." One student snorted and flipped through his handouts. He placed a hand over his heart and vastly overacted as he read aloud. "Sometimes I get lost in her curls. Like the fires of red mountain they consume me and I can think of nothing else. The heat, the smoke, the sensations are all the same to me now. When I dream of her I feel lava. When I dream of the mountain I see her eyes."

"Is there a question there, Mero?" Her eyebrow quirked with irritation.

"No." Mero laughed. "I agree, she didn't sound scared to me."

"Well, yeah, she was brave." A tiny bosmer girl said.

"Fearless." Meri corrected. "Not quite so admirable as brave."

"Aren't they the same?"

"Bravery is acting in spite of fear." Meri walked slowly between the podium and her blackboard as she spoke. "If you're not feeling any fear, there's no bravery in your action." She pointed at Mero with her chalk. "Take Mero here, he doesn't fear being made a fool and acts without considering the possibility." A chuckle rung through the lecture hall. "If he, say, was anxious about the way he were perceived maybe it could be considered brave to constantly interrupt my lectures. Or me; I'm not afraid of spiders, is it brave to carry them out of my office in my hands? Or does it seem that way to you because you fear spiders? The spider could bite me, it could be poisonous, but I carry it all the same. It's not brave to take unnecessary risk, but it does imply a lack of concern for the consequences. Fearlessness."

"So... she married Almalexia because she didn't fear the consequences?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps it was political, or convenient, or any number of other things. But look through those journal entries again after class today. Try to find one example of fear, or any time she seems concerned about the consequences of action or inaction. I expect to hear your findings tomorrow when we finish discussing her trek beyond the Ghostfence."

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 10

Author's Note: nsft later on in the chapter

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

It had started raining pretty much the instant they got to Suran, and Jolene was quick to drag her into the nearest building - which, as it happened, was some sort of tourist directory building. He bought a large umbrella, then turned to her and said, "The closest things are all going to be casinos...we could see some sort of sleight of hand show, or perhaps if my ongoing seats are available at the theater--"

"You have reserved theater seats? Isn't that expensive?"

"Oh, it's not that much," Jolene waved a hand absently, and gave an impish grin. "It helps to know people."

They went back out, and as Sadara was still hesitant to name something to do, they ducked into the first casino, themed in early Imperial.

"Slot machines are mindless. Good for thinking..."

"And losing your ass." She laughed. "I've never even been in a place this nice before."

But he DID turn out to be right. A handful of drakes netted her a couple hundred more as she sat 'thinking', and she decided to quit after that little victory in search of something else.

(And before she lost what she'd won.)

"Are you hungry?" she said, once they went back out, "I could--"

"No, no, I am the one who offered, you keep your money. What did you decide on?"

Not for the first or last time did Sadara wonder why Jolene was this well spoken. She thought - the assumptions I made, just based on what he looked like! How many stories have I read warning about this? And yet I kept doing it?

"Perhaps first we find our own entertainment...or that theater thing you mentioned...provided the show's not too bleak, I can't stand a sad ending," Sadara said, "If I wanted to hear what sad endings sound like I can just talk to my neighbors...or the rat in the wall."

"The...rat in the wall." Jolene's tone was the driest thing in the city. "You have a rat, singular, in your wall?"

"Yeah...he's more like a building-wide pet. Like a mascot or something." she shrugged. "We feed him garbage and he eats other pest animals...sleeps in our hall closet. Fat little bastard, but cute, he knows us."

Jolene either didn't hear, or was pretending not to hear, that part, because he didn't give a response. Instead, he took her by the hand and lead her down the street towards a large theater whose sign was bright enough she couldn't quite make out much beyond that there were four letters on it.

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

Sadara was sobbing by the end of the show, and still sniffling by the time they left the theater.

"Are you--alright?" Jolene questioned, "I didn't think you'd react to it that way."

"H-how could I not, everyone hated her! And then...and then she sang about how she used to be...to beautiful, and...and...they picked her, and she was happy..." She'd seen bits and pieces of Cats but never seen the whole thing front to back and had NEVER heard Memory before.

It reminded her of growing up broke, seeing the looks from her 'betters.' How she had done what she'd seen the Grizabella on stage do - kept her head high despite the insults.

"I'm fine," she said, when he asked again, "It's just...I know what it's like to...anyway, I'm sorry I ruined it for you."

"You didn't ruin anything. Ah...maybe we should try something else..." he looked about as they walked down the street, her clinging to his arm as she continued to wipe stray tears away. Overhead the rain went on, but they were guarded this time by the umbrella

"I enjoyed it. Really, I did," she finally said, "I've never been to live theater, that was...that was magical."

Finally she understood what the fuss was all about regarding seeing a live performance. And she was pretty sure the Altmer lady in the front row who'd danced with one of the cast members understood it even better.

(She would later remember how attentive Jolene was, how much he'd seemed to revel in her new reaction to everything. At the moment all she could do was either gush or cry)

She gave a laugh. "Maybe we should get something to eat? Give the rain time to stop?"

There was a nervous laugh, but Jolene agreed. Their next stop was some restaurant themed like ancient Akavir, the food of which Sadara didn't especially like. The booze, however, was excellent, though she tried not to drink too much of it. Strong stuff, she thought, far too strong. Jolene drank half the bottle, but it didn't seem to much affect him.

"Luckily, I have a high tolerance." He gave her a grin when she asked. "Let us say there are those in my family in the business of producing alcohol...and they are quite free with samples."

"A refined palate, as the snobs would say?"

"Something like that."

There was a chuckle then, from which of them she wasn't quite sure. The buzz of alcohol had her feeling giggly, so in the end she'd decide it was probably her to do it.

When they left she kept close to him, again under the umbrella.

"This damned rain," she said, "I swear, no matter where we go...it's like it's following us."

It was strange, really. Something in the back of her head told her 'maybe you ought to think about this a little more' but was just as quickly washed away.

If Dagoth Ur would go to random restaurants in the Red Mountain region it wasn't out of the way to think he'd go here too. He was probably in some casino or the other, drumming up followers from people who'd run out of money. At least - if she was him, that's probably what she would have done.

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

The rest of the night was fuzzy, save for one part. When she'd planted a kiss on Jolene's lips in some bar or the other, and whispered in his ear if he'd like to enjoy things more privately, he'd leaped right into action.

A room was arranged--there were hotels everywhere--and despite how eager Sadara was to climb Mt. Jolene he insisted on showering first. Fine, she thought. A couple bathrobes were available, and with a lingering mischievousness she stripped before putting on hers and glancing out the window at the glittering city lights.

She could feel Nerevar, somewhere in the back of her mind, eager, ready - well, he had been without, and he'd been good. If nothing else he'd get a little reward for keeping up his end of the bargain tonight.

Tease him, Nerevar thought, as if her thinking his name had summoned him.��Men like him like it.

What did I tell you about staying quiet?

I just wanted to help you out.

Well...thanks, but I don't think it'll be necessary. I'm not trying to be mean but if you don't stay quiet it's going to be VERY hard for me to get this going.

My lips are sealed, Nerevar replied. No matter how hard it's going to be to stay silent.

She gave a little laugh, and tensed only slightly when she heard Jolene speak from somewhere behind her, "Something funny?"

Sadara turned, and was greeted by a sight that was both funny and alluring. Jolene was seated on the edge of the bed, with his wet hair soaking his robe and a large bandage prominently displayed on his forehead.

"What--what happened?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

"A--minor fall."

"Should I heal it? I know a minor--"

"No, no, it's not necessary. It's fine," Jolene waved a hand dismissively, "I--ah--was grabbing a towel when I leaned over and cut my forehead on the hook on the back of the--"

She pulled loose the knot in her robe, and felt the amusement rising further, as he started to trip over his words. He could see nothing important yet, but he could see enough to know she was bare beneath the robe. The valley between her breasts, a little of her belly...

It was a treat to watch his eyes travel down as he struggled for words.

"--of the--ah--"

"I think it would benefit us both to stop talking right now," she said, "Unless you've changed your mind."

"Why in oblivion would I do that?" Jolene sputtered. He seemed to get squirmy as she stepped closer.

"Has it been a while?"

"You--have no idea." He tensed up when she moved up and straddled him. "And you?"

"Does it matter?" Sadara laughed, and shrugged slightly, so the robe shifted down and exposed her shoulders. Then she gave a slight giggle in his ear, and tugged at the knot of his own robe. "Would it make you want me less?"

"Not a bit."

The knot undone, Sadara gave what she hoped looked like a cheeky grin, and lay a hand on his chest. Then, as she planted a kiss or two on his neck, she let her hand drift slowly downward.

His abs were a work of art, and she couldn't help but admire them, limited in the view as she was being this close. He didn't look bulky enough to have abs this hard, but--another reminder not to judge by outward appearance.

"Like what you see?" he asked in a low tone.

She didn't answer - with words, anyway. She met Jolene's eyes and kept her gaze locked there as her hand brushed against and then closed around his cock.

Then she kissed him, and started to stroke. He was already half-hard, and it didn't take long at all for her to finish the job.

He tasted of wine, mainly, but also oddly enough of ash, of cinnamon, of--

Home.

The kiss was shallow but went on until she had to part with him to breathe. She'd kept stroking, and a glance up at his eyes again showed her the desperation he was feeling. He was ready, he was eager.

The poor man was putty in her hands and she had to resist the urge to laugh. So Nerevar was right.

"Maybe," she started, tightening her grip just slightly as she stroked his cock, "Maybe I should just finish you this way? It doesn't seem like it's going to take you very long. I could get on my knees if you'd prefer."

"No--" Jolene choked out, "--don't. I'd rather--"

"You'd rather get inside me?" Sadara asked. "You'd better show me, then. Show me what you want."

There was a definite blush on his face, but she saw it only for a moment. The next those large hands were pressing her robe back, baring her entirely, and the one after that his hands were on her hips. He moved her up--growled, when he found her wet, then thrust upward and into her.

"Oh--fuck--"

He was big enough, but there was something else--maybe that it had just been too long--that made that first thrust feel even better. Sinking down, being spread around that cock, it was wonderful.

And then without letting her take the lead, Jolene started to buck beneath her and all outside thought came to an end.

"Fuck," she moaned again, "It's not going anywhere, you don't have to go so hard."

"Am I too much for you?" It was Jolene's turn to tease. "Are you...overwhelmed? Should I--"

"If you stop I'm going to kill you," she groaned, and lifted both hands to his shoulders.

It was almost like a battle--his trying to finish her from below, thrusting upward; while she rolled her hips downward and tried to see if she could silence him from sheer eagerness.

A groan by her ear. He turned her head, nipped at her neck once, twice, and then a third time, wrapped both arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

Gods above...gods...I can feel it too...this is EVERYTHING I ever DREAMED about--

"Not now, Nerevar." Sadara mumbled.

Jolene didn't stop, but he lifted his head, and hope that he hadn't heard her was dashed.

"What did you say?"

"I..." she looked away, "I...hear a voice now and then..."

A pause.

"He's enjoying this too."

"Really, now..." Jolene's interest, far from being put off, appeared to be piqued. He moved a little more swiftly, thrust a little more deeply. "...I'm glad to hear that."

"Harder--fuck--" Sadara's request was instantly complied with, and the stab of pleasure was deep enough she went nearly limp in his arms.

His face was back in her neck, and he was mumbling things. Things she didn't hear, figured she didn't need to hear.

The buildup, the knot coiling in her gut, was closer and closer every second. She almost wanted the wait to never end - but was eager for it to, eager to feel that bolt of pleasure wash through her.

And then, unexpectedly, it did. One moment she was on that plateau, that anticipation's edge, and the next she was plummeting, then drowning in pleasure. She practically screamed out, and spasmed around him--but didn't fall, so tightly was Jolene holding to her.

His own end was marked not only by the pulse and the warmth that followed, but also by a sudden gasp in her ear, a clench of his thighs and then a relaxation.

"Fuck." She swore one last time, and rested against him, utterly satisfied. "Gods...that was..."

Jolene wasn't talking, and she decided to go along with it. It was nice to fuck someone that actually WANTED to cuddle afterwards.

And before they went back out again, he'd want to bed her again.

This time, with her on her back.

[dxwnfxll]

Got compelled to draw modern Nepelle, Sotha sil and Memory Nall

The ‘i have a million hobbies and jobs’ mom, the computer programmer dad, and the spaghetti o toddler

[vrrl]

Modern AU Vivec. A famous writer and poet, you know.

The next one will probably be Sotha Sil 🤫

[azures-grace]

I got bored the other day and thought, "what if the Tribunal from Morrowind were idiots born in Gen Z?"

This would be before all the foul murder and stuff, so the gang + Nerevar is all here and alive and Chimer.

And so Sotha Sil became a massive internet troll.

So far I've drawn a lot of Sotha Sil thanks to my crippling addiction. He's between 11 and 15 in these drawings. Vivec is 8 or 9 and I'd put Nerevar at a solid 12. Seht's hair was fun to draw :)

I might come up with some kind of storyline for this later, but for the moment, I'm happy to draw these silly goofy guys.

[sneakygreenbean]

Hourly reminder that I love her

[ridreamir]

My grief addled heart wanting to draw parallels between Dagoth Ur and the Nerevarine to the Last Dragonborn and Nebarra... This is overly complicated I understand if you don't want to read it lol

Warning: Some Morrowind and Skyrim spoilers/ lore ahead, mumbo jumbo I'm sorry if I'm not making sense. Same for Nebarra's backstory but the spoilers are very vague.

Nebarra, descended from the true Aldmer, potentially mixed somewhere along the way with the last of the true Chimer.

(The Chimer: Dagoth Ur's and Nerevar's extinct race, closely descended from the Aldmer) that could account for Nebarra's so called 'racial impurities'. The irony there being he'd have a close genetic link to the original Aldmer that the modern Altmer wish to emulate. (The Chimer were cursed by the Daedric Prince Azura and are now modern day dark elves, but they used to look like Altmer with fair hair and skin.) His quest is rooted in Solstheim. Maybe his soul is called to the Heart of Lorhkan still. Maybe it still longs for their past lives in Morrowind. The Last Dragonborn, bloodline unclear or sullied in reincarnation like the Nerevarine. Given a bad lot in life. Always the toy of higher powers.

They are both ill-fated individuals, reincarnations. The Dragonborn containing the essence of 'divine' dragonblood. Perhaps Neverar was also a dragon-hearted individual, drawing parallels to the divine heart of Lorhkan that corrupted Dagoth Ur. Much to do with hearts which pump blood, and divinity.

Many mortal incarnations that come in times of great strife.

The previous outside lover that prevents the two souls from connecting, once Nerevar's wife the betrayer, then Nebarra's grief-stricken heart who lost his first love to a tragic death. Again the parallel of the broken and betrayed hearts. Big emphasis on hearts here.

The parallels aren't a perfect one to one but all the elements are there. Mortals desperately wishing to return to divinity. Reincarnation. Betrayal, death, obstacles. Man and Mer. Lorhkan as a good and evil force. A betrayer. A life giver.

The accursed realms of Mundus and themes of the dead rising to life. What if this has been the tragic love story (friendship? Longing?) of two souls fragmented from before the world of man and mer, meant to incarnate and find each other again and again? Aspects of the dead divines now incarnated to haunt the divine corpse of Lorhkan that is now the Earth they walk on?

Same seeds, different soil. Different times, different places. Same souls, different bodies. The horrific part about this is that they're always separated. Sometimes not even born together or surviving long enough to find one another. In the tragic one in a million chance they do, often they'll eventually have to wrench themselves from the other in order to fulfill a prophecy and sacrifice themselves by the will of the divines (or the daedric lords as their toy puppets.) The Aedra are dead. You are in spirit the whispers of their corrupted dream. In flesh, he as an Altmer is what has become of their blood. Two halves of the same coin. Mortality and Divinity.

I could really stetch this so far, but I see how I'm kind of dragging Nebarra out of his intended role. Just an AU thing I thought of. You could technically place anyone in his role but I wanted to write more Nebarra content lol

I could definitely write a quest that hints to past lives forgotton and the karma/shared fates of these two tortured beings as a romance storyline if we're being honest here. Big emphasis on broken hearts.

They are so sad and love each other your honor.

[shiveringgroovy]

feeding the followers well tonight

pick a stereotypical role in a young adult novel for the character/characters

(alternatively make a coherent au i guess)

ZOO WEE MAMA hello oomfie confession time i don't read anything published past the year 2000 unless it's fanfic but one time i read a really shitty colleen hoover in the looney bin because the staff stole my copy of 1984 also my top 3 favorite books are Alas Babylon, 1984, and American Psycho please send help i know nothing about the current state of recent modern lit

anyway!

a morrowind romcom au would be hilarious.

Indoril Nerevar as the Love Interest Guy, Voryn and Vivec as the ones in love. Vivec is closer to Nerevar, but Nerevar is more in love with Voryn Basically, more interaction for NereVehk but more chemistry with NereVoryn

Vivec's hype group is obviously the Tribunal... a groupchat called the ALMSIVI would be insane

Voryn gets his fuckass Dude Group that consists of Dumac and Kagrenac. They both think he's a fucking loser (screw the canon they should be besties)

Basically there'd be a lot of pining and in the end Vivec gets jealous and the ALMSIVI foul murders the fuck out of Nerevar

and then the canon events of morrowind

basically the lore if it was good if you ask me. almsivi should've had little girlie sleepovers where they do their nails and vehk giggles about nerevar while voryn silently pines in the distance out in the middle of the ashlands all philosophical and melancholic

[thescrolls-haveforetold]

for the ask game and nerevar/nerevarine: 🤝🥰💘😳🤲🎻🚗 (answer what you like!)

YEAAAAAAAH NEREVARINE How do they express platonic affection?: Nerevar typically expresses platonic affection through advice, verbal affection and trying to uplift their friend more than anything else- calling them nicknames (buddy, kid) basically trying to act as an older sibling would! Nerevar is generally a very good mentor figure to a lot of people and tries to be as supportive as possible! Usually when Nerevar meets people, and she likes them, thats when they become friends. Neht's very open for friendships, but mostly AFTER the main questline of morrowind. Who do they currently consider to be their best friend and why? Has their best friend changed over time? : I think they'll forever consider Voryn to be their best and closest friend, even two hundred years after his death, Voryn unfortunately holds a specific place in Neht's mind that he has difficulty letting go of. Do they have a "canon" romantic partner? If so, who is it and what is their relationship like? If not, what kind of person would be the optimal romantic partner for them (the most interesting narratively, not necessarily the healthiest/what they think their preferences are)?: Nerevar isnt...necessarily open to romantic partners, outside of political conveniences- but there IS an AU where they do have a partner, but it is extremely complicated. BUT I DO LIKE SHIPPING THEM. SHIP ART IS ALWAYS FUN AND I LOVE SHIPPING NEREVAR ESPECIALLY. As for 'types' nerevar doesnt have one. Neht likes ladies and gentlemen, simple >:3 How easily are they embarrassed/flustered? What sorts of things catch them off-guard and make them lose their cool?: Neht is NOT easy to fluster. They are EXTREMELY good at turning anything back at the person trying to catch them off guard- pretty people, though... maybe? Do they have any deep desires that they don't talk about and/or don't even realize they have? Do these desires conflict with their main goal at all?: Nerevar is relatively sure of himself, but of course this guy wants stuff that contradicts what hes got going- he longs for the past, he longs for how it was back in the first era- he wishes it was different. but honestly? its never gonna happen, so yk... hes gotta b realistic abt these things Do they know how to play an instrument? If so which one(s)? Do they enjoy music in general?: nope! aaaand Neht likes sea shanties. i KNOW they do In a modern AU, what kind of job would they have, if any?: either shit fucked politician or retiree

[trickstarbrave]

something sad and something cute

i still dont have a name for this au but its the one with reincarnated voryn in modern day morrowind

pardon the first part being clunky to write i went back to fix what i wrote while half awake and it. was extremely hard to fix LMAOOOO the second portion flows a lot better bc i was actually fully awake writing it

Voryn woke up with his arms empty, a feeling of loss instantly rocking through his chest. He felt around in the sheets helplessly, groaning in disappointment when they came up empty. 

“Nerevar…?” He mumbled, slowly sitting up, careful not to hurt the lashes on his back or the injury on his thigh. The wounds seemed to have closed up much more than they would have naturally. Had Nerevar used healing magic on him? Healing magic was expensive as far as he learned, as were healing potions. At least more expensive than Voryn could afford.

The door was slightly cracked, forcing Voryn to overhear the conversation just outside the door whether he wanted to or not.

“You cannot neglect your duties any further, Lord Nerevar.” It was an older mer’s voice, condescending and harsh. 

“I am not neglecting my duties in the slightest.” Nerevar’s tone was cold and stern, completely different from how he spoke to Voryn. 

“You haven’t attended a council meeting in five days!” The other man shouted back, enraged.

“Can the lot of you honestly not go one meeting without ripping each other to shreds?” Nerevar scoffed, malice in his voice. “I have something important I’m tending to.” 

“There are rumors swirling around Mournhold that I hope are not true, Lord Nerevar.” Voryn felt his stomach drop at that, the hushed, angry tone falling out of the other man’s mouth. “There are rumors you were carrying back the Sharm--”

“Enough.” Nerevar’s voice was terrifyingly cold at that. “I will hear not a single word of those rumors repeated, do you understand me, councilman?” There was bloodlust practically radiated through the door, overwhelming and oppressive. The councilman's voice trembled in response. 

“F-for your sake they had best not be true, Hortator.” And with that, the councilman was scurry off down the hall. 

Hearing that word had fear coursing through Voryn. 

Hortator. Nerevar was the hortator. The champion of Azura, ally of the false gods, the undying enemy of the Sharmat, Dagoth Ur. 

Voryn reached up, feeling his forehead to realize the bandana he used to cover his birthmark was gone. Nerevar had seen it. If so many dunmer knew what Voryn was, there was no doubt Nerevar knew as well. 

Voryn scrambled, attempting to flee, only to collapse onto the floor. His legs were weak, unable to support his weight, but he still crawled towards the window in hopes it would hold freedom for him. 

The commotion didn’t go unnoticed by Nerevar though, who quickly ran in, gasping and kneeling down in front of Voryn. 

“Are you alright?” Nerevar asked, his voice warm and soft again. “You should have called for me, I would have helped you out of bed--” As he reached out to take Voryn’s arms, Voryn shoved him back with all the limited strength he had. 

“S-stay back!” He shouted, shaking and sweating in fear. Nerevar’s face was twisted in shock and pain.

“Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, still trying to soothe Voryn. “It’s alright, let me help you back into bed--”

“You’re the hortator.” Voryn tried to will his voice to stop trembling, only partially succeeding. “You’re going to--” He knew what the hortator would do, if he ever found Voryn. Whether it be from the Sixth House Cult, from the talk of ordinators, and from dunmer on the street, Voryn knew the hortator would kill him for being the sharmat. “You’re going to kill me!” 

“Why would I kill you?” Nerevar still kept his voice soft and gentle, his hands hovering and nervous about hurting Voryn.

“Y-you know what I am. Who I am.” He heard it with the councilman talking to Nerevar outside. Nerevar would be stupid to not know it was him. “You’re going to kill me because I’m the Sharmat.” 

Nerevar’s blue eyes went dark at that, his face twisting in pain as though he had been stabbed. 

“Voryn,” Nerevar put a hand on Voryn’s, the taller elf jumping from the brush of skin. “You are not the Sharmat.”

“You’ve seen the mark on my face!” Voryn was crying now. Why had the hortator brought him back? Why had Nerevar gingerly wrapped his injuries and held his hand all night? Was it to lull him into a false sense of security? Manipulate him before he killed him, just like the cruel figure the cult painted him as? 

“The Sharmat is dead, Voryn.” Nerevar reassured him, slowly inching closer. “You are not Daogth Ur.” 

“Yes I am.” He knew he was. He had the ability to take corprus disease, and the cult had been trying to train him to give it as well. He could command the lumbering corprus zombies and dreamers, and he could shake the earth under their feet. “I even have his abilities… I’ve been raised to be him.”

“Voryn, look at me.” Nerevar reached out to hold his cheeks. “Just because you might look like him, might bear the mark on your forehead, and even share his abilities, that doesn’t make you Dagoth Ur.” Voryn opened his mouth to shout back that Nerevar was being ridiculous, that of course that made the two of them the same, but he cut Voryn off as he continued. “Even if you were, that doesn’t mean I would hate you.”

“It’s the hortator’s duty to slay the Sharmat…” Voryn whispered, wanting to find comfort in the warm, calloused hands cupping his face, but too afraid to relax and lean into them. 

“And I already did, Voryn.” Nerevar’s thumb gently stroked the tears from his face. “I didn’t fight him out of hatred, Voryn. I did what I had to, for both his sake and mine.” Voryn looked at him with confusion. At his inquisitive look, Nerevar sighed. 

“Come here,” Nerevar began. “Let me bring you back to bed and I’ll explain everything, alright?” Voryn looked at him for a long while, carefully judging his words and actions. 

In truth, if the hortator wanted to kill him at a moment’s notice, there was no reason for Voryn to be alive right now. The hortator had plenty of opportunities to kill him in his sleep, after all. And if it was manipulation, Voryn would be safer playing along and waiting for a chance to escape. 

Voryn nodded slowly once he came to the conclusion, Nerevar carefully scooping his frail body up off the floor, settling him back in the bed. The hortator even tucked the blankets around him, stroking his hair gently, as he sat in the chair beside the bed once more. 

“... I never hated Dagoth Ur.” Nerevar began, his voice heavy with a mixture of emotions Voryn could only scratch the surface of understanding. “Dagoth Ur was a twisted reflection of my former friend. My closest friend, in fact.” Nerevar looked to the ground as he explained, and Voryn could see how the thoughts were haunting him written across the hortator’s face. “In our past lives, millenia ago, I tasked Voryn Dagoth with guarding the tools of Kagrenac and the Heart of Lorkhan. I trusted him the most out of everyone I knew--I trusted him with my own life, in fact.” Nerevar brushed some of his messy hair out of his own face, his mohawk having fallen into a mess of waves from sleep. “But… Being in close proximity to the heart isn’t good for anyone. Something I only learned after I returned, seeing him twisted and corrupted.” 

There was a long pause, as Nerevar’s mouth formed words but no sound came out, struggling to find a way to speak. 

“I had to kill Voryn Dagoth.” Nerevar explained. “I didn’t want to. Never did I ever think I would have to raise my blade against him.” There was real pain in the tremble of his voice that sent a jolt of pain through Voryn’s heart briefly. “But that wasn’t the end. Death only twisted him more, and the corrupt, madened form of him lived again as Dagoth Ur.” Nerevar took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he inhaled, before exhaling. “When I was reborn again, I did have to fight him again. It was a destiny I couldn’t escape, no matter how much it pained me to strike him down. But I knew I had to, if not for Morrowind then to save someone I cared deeply about and to free him from the cruel fate he was trapped in himself.” 

“You are not Dagoth Ur, Voryn.” Nerevar finally looked up at him, cupping his cheek again. “You don’t have to be Voryn Dagoth either.” Voryn couldn’t help but lean into the hortator’s touch now, the aching in his chest soothed by the warmth of his hand and gentle touch. 

“Why did you save me then?” Voryn asked, his voice quiet. He looked at the hortator expectantly, desperate to hear the answer and judge the honesty of it. Nerevar’s lower lip trembled, before he sighed. 

“You look a lot like Voryn Dagoth.” Nerevar admitted. “The moment I saw you, I couldn’t help myself. I knew if I didn’t help you, no one would, and it was my fault you were being treated with such disdain. But more than that…” Nerevar looked away with another sigh, guilt written across his face but clear honesty there as well. “I… I selfishly just wanted to help you because I was protecting my thoughts of the past onto you. But that’s not fair to you, Voryn.” Blue eyes met his again, as Nerevar gave him a soft, tender smile. “You deserve the chance to be whoever you want to be, Voryn. You can be so much more than Voryn Dagoth.” 

It was a strange thing to hear. For most of Voryn’s life he was held up to the standard of Voryn Dagoth and Dagoth Ur, but now the hortator of all people was telling him he was free to do whatever he wanted, be whoever he wanted. 

“If you want to, you can pick out a new name if you’d like.” Nerevar offered. “It might help separate you from him.” 

Voryn felt his stomach drop at that. He didn’t enjoy the thought of Nerevar fondly calling any name except ‘Voryn’, even if the hortator was still referring to him. He knew it only made sense to consider building a new identity for himself; he had escaped the Six House cult after all, and they were the ones who named him. He could be free of them entirely. And yet… 

“... Voryn is fine for now.” 

—

The next part of his recovery was underway. 

“Come on, slow and steady.” Nerevar held Voryn’s arms as Voryn began taking shaky steps forward, his hands braced on the shorter mer’s shoulders.

“This is ridiculous,” Voryn scoffed, cheeks red. “How did my legs get this weak?” “It’s what happens when you spend too many days in bed.” Nerevar answered him, still shuffling backwards toward the table in the room and helping Voryn along. 

“I was only out for a few days.” Voryn didn’t expect to be as helpless as a newborn nix hound just because he spent several days in bed. 

“You’d be surprised what a few days of not moving can do.” Finally they were at the table and Nerevar gingerly helped Voryn sit down. “There we go.” The firm pat on the shoulder Voryn got only made his cheeks burn redder. “Now then, next thing you need to do is eat.” Voryn looked down at the bland porridge in front of him. “Yeah, I know, not the most appetizing…” Nerevar continued, before sighing. “I was going to have them make a bunch of different food for you to try but the healers reamed me to Oblivion and back.” Voryn raised an eyebrow at that, wondering if the rest of the temple staff didn’t think he deserved a proper meal. “They said if I had you eating too much you’d get horribly sick, so they made this.” Nerevar went to pick up the spoon for him. “Saltrice porridge is actually pretty good, and a few days of this and you should be good to have something proper.” 

“... I can feed myself, Nerevar.” Voryn looked away, cheeks still red. Nerevar blinked at him, before laughing softly and awkwardly. 

“Right. Apologies.” Nerevar placed the spoon back in the bowl. “Eat at your own pace.” 

Voryn took the spoon quickly, his nerves acting up. 

In all honesty he wasn’t against Nerevar feeding him. He was about to let him even, before the fluttering feeling came back in his stomach and he remembered all the dreams he had been having about Nerevar. Nerevar’s soft hair sliding through his fingers, his blue eyes, his strong arms and toned back, the way it felt like he fit perfectly in Voryn’s arms when he slept, and not to mention the way his lips felt in his dream--

The spoon fell out of his hand, knocking against the table. His ears went red now too, as he glared down at the tableware and his hands betraying his nerves. Beside him, Nerevar covered his mouth, shoulders visibly shaking in the corner of Voryn’s eye.

“You can laugh, Nerevar.” Voryn sighed. At that Nerevar gave a loud bark of laughter before desperately trying to hold more down. 

“I-I’m so…” Nerevar bit his lip too. “I’m so sorry--it’s not--it’s not funny--” Voryn couldn’t help but smile at the familiar laughter.

“No, but you look quite ridiculous, unable to control your laughter.” That only made Nerevar laugh harder, his head falling onto Voryn’s shoulders, tears in the corner of his eyes. Voryn chuckled softly as well, waiting for Nerevar’s giggling to subside. 

“Are you going to help me eat now?” Voryn asked. “I don’t want a repeat of that, so…” He handed Nerevar the spoon. Nerevar wiped a tear from his eye as he took it, before smiling brightly up at Voryn. 

“Of course.” Nerevar picked up a modest bite, “Here, allow me.”

[stergeon]

🌻💡💌

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

uh well immediately after i post a fic, i re-read it like three times because, inevitably, i will find a zillion mistakes i somehow missed in my previous fifty rounds of editing. then i will be unable to look at the piece for a month or two. after that i’ll remember it exists and do another round of edits. usually this is the most extensive edit as i’ve had enough time away from the work to realize where and how i was talking out my ass. sorry to anyone who reads my stuff before this happens lmaoooo i hope it’s stomachable!!

after that, i can (usually) bear to look at the fic again and i’ll remember i wrote it for me and that’s why it contains all kinds of stuff i like lol. i’ll re-read and do nitpicky edits maybe once a month or so. more if i’m proud of it.

💡How many WIPs do you currently have?

ummmmm. let’s see. in no particular order, i’ve got a good chunk of progress goin’ on these right now:

the victors; the vestiges. chapter four is so close to being done but i have to keep touching it and touching it.

recognition chapter 3. this chapter is technically smut, but rather unsexy smut. twin character studies in a smut wrapper. apologies to anyone who’s subscribed to that as i have no idea if i’ll ever be brave enough to publish it.

yet-untitled edeleth smut that is purely about sex for sex’s sake. i’m having too much fun with this one

very angsty fic about byleth’s first days in enbarr

morrowind reincarnation-slash-modern au

a way too ambitious nerevoryn fic i’ll don’t think i will ever finish

that casphardt fic i promised you ten thousand years ago OOPS!!!!!

i’m also dreaming about doing a political drama set in fhirdiad just after the war but i’m not sure if i have the brain or historical chops to pull it off. maybe someday.

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

hmmm. i don’t think so? i really enjoy writing and exploring established relationships, but i wouldn’t say it’s necessarily my favorite as i enjoy writing non-romantic stuff, too. thematically, my favorite thing to write about is devotion. i’m pretty much always writing about devotion or grief (usually both).

[aladaylessecondblog]

how much beef with PETA do u think Hircine would have

[dragonbleps]

I can no longer hold my silence

who is dal? everywhere I go, I see his face. I've heard so much about the man and yet I don't know who he is. oc? sona? simply an incredible fictional character?

(aka I dont member but am intrigued so i'm specifically asking you to ramble about your guy. I need twelve paragraphs by noon tomorrow /lh)

you've activated mY TRAP CARD

MY BOY!!!

SO, Dal is my OC! Or, rather, Dal is the nickname for my TES OC, Dalamus Rex, but when talking about other AUs of him, I'll also use the name Dal often without clarifying, usually forcing people to either assume or figure out from context which version of Dal I'm talking about. A few of his AUs keep the Dalamus first name, or have a name that can be shortened to Dal, even if the name they actually go by is different (ie "Modern Dal" Damon Rex, whose birth name is Dalmatius). Sometimes, if talking about multiple Dalamus' in the same post, I might differentiate between them by using last names (Rex, Sarangerel, Strighym). Or sometimes I'll tag something as "Dal" because it applies to all of them, or vaguely makes me think of Dal even if it isn't entirely accurate to a specific version of him.

Clear as mud, right? WELL, allow me to go through the list!!! (All AUs are specifically AUs of Dalamus Rex. No weird permutations. Dalamus Rex is the origin of all and acts as the base.)

Dalamus Rex (he/him) is the original Dal, and one of two that can be safely assumed I'm defaulting to when I just say "Dal", (the other currently being Dalamus Strighym, and we'll get to him later). Dalamus Rex is a TES OC! He's a Dunmer/Bosmer (Dark elf/Wood elf) vampire who was originally intended to be a one-off antagonist for my other character, Thaerondil, to face. I felt I had hit a wall when writing Thaerondil, and needed something to force me to get him to mature a bit, so I started writing Dal. Dal was eventually supposed to just disappear or die and. Well. It's been 12 years and he's still here! And he's infecting the rest of my braincells.

Dalamus Rex started out life in Morrowind, to a family with a terrible father and a mother who tried her best but was treated just as awfully by her husband. I won't go into specifics unless asked, but you can search Dal's blog and find info (just mind the trigger warnings)! After his mother died, he ran from home and just kept running, eventually making his way into Skyrim at a young age. So while Morrowind might be his homeland, he basically grew up in Skyrim.

In Skyrim, he continued to use his stealth and thievery skills to survive, jaded and unstrusting, until eventually he caught ill with serious respiratory illness and collapsed outside the door of a Bosmer named Falin (fuh-LEEN). Falin took care of him and nursed him back to health with food, kindness, and herbal remedies because Dalamus does not trust mages or healing magic. In spending so much time together, they become fond of each other and fall in love.

Unfortunately, it would be cut short. At Falin's behest, Dalamus accompanies mercenaries to help clear a den of vampires, and ends up knocked unconscious and unknowingly infected with vampirism himself. Near the end of the week, Dalamus would wake a vampire in the middle of the night and kill his beloved Falin for his first feeding.

Wracked with guilt and shame, he runs and goes into hiding. For nearly two centuries he oscillates violently between ridden with guilt and starving himself, and succumbing to the Thirst and becoming a terror to anyone or anyplace nearby. He is stealthy, and wickedly fast, so god help you if you try to run, because he enjoys the chase. While not the strongest vampire, his agility and athleticism more than makes up for it.

Near the end of the two centuries, he finally evens off into a sort of homeostasis, emotionally speaking, allowing him to integrate himself into society if only to lure people to their death in typical Suave Charming Seductive Vampire fashion. This is where his blog canon takes place.

As he manages his Thirst better and can spend more time among people without needing to feed, he spends his time thieving from people and seducing them for more.. mundane needs. But it also means he has the time and ability and wherewithal to have conversations with people, and conversations often lead to connection. And he starts getting attached. (The next bit is going to be incredibly condensed and summarized because otherwise it's 10+ years of storytelling).

He starts building bonds with people. He learns to trust. He starts making friends, some to the extent of considering them family. He learns how to be vulnerable. He accidentally hurts friends. He learns how to apologize. He makes up with friends. He finally finds love again. He has a daughter. He cheats on his wife. He learns that apologies are not always enough. They get a divorce, and it hits him hard. But he has supportive people in his life now, his closest of which know he is a vampire and know of his past and that he has killed on his way here.

He learns how to change his behavior while still remaining himself, becoming ever closer to his friends and family. He finds love again, and is now in a stable relationship with an Agent of Mara, who also happens to be a Healer and a werelion. He has several close friends who he quite literally owe his life to, and for whom he would risk his life in an instant to keep them safe. Dalamus is not religious and is still afraid of Healing Magic but he occasionally reads about teachings of Mara when struggling, and he is slowly, slowly working up the nerve to be accepting of magic, although traumatic experiences and misunderstandings of how magic works are significant bumps in the road.

Damon Rex (he/it) -- A vampire in a fantasy Modern Earth who owns a jewelry store called Aeternum Rex ("forever the king", "forever king", "king forever", "eternal king", however you wanna think of it). CEO, owner, manager, boss, he's all of it. This is his store, and he uses it to swindle wealthy people :)

He's also a jeweler, gemologist, silversmith, gemcutter, etc etc. He's had time to learn it ALL. And he does make some of the available jewelry for the store. Some of it is stolen from the rich and altered to hide the fact. And some of it is synthetic jewelry altered to seem natural. The idea is that he steals valuables from the rich, changes them slightly, then sells them back to the rich when they come around looking for a replacement. Selling the synthetic gems at such a high profit margin also gives him leeway to give discounts to.. whoever he wants, really. But generally it is given to those who are not rich or wealthy, those looking for one-time gifts who will likely not be repeat customers.

He employs mostly teens and young adults from less-than-ideal living situations, or generally those who are desperate for the financial stability to get out of bad situations, buy necessities, etc. How he does this legally, who knows. But he pays them very generously for easy work, and time off is given on the honor system, assuming you will show up when you can work. See, with his speed and with how small the store is, he doesn't really NEED the help, but he wants to help others.

His own backstory is similar to TES Dal's in terms of family situation. But where TES Dal's mother died, Modern Dal became a vampire and returned to save his mother from his father. He then was able to live with and take care of his mother for the rest of her natural life, and this helped give him skills to integrate into society in a healthy manner earlier in his life.

Few people know he is a vampire aside from other supernatural creatures. His employees (who he eventually comes to see as his own kids, in a way) joke about him looking like one or dressing like one, but none of them actually believe anything out of the ordinary is happening. He's just goth, that's all. He's a little scary but he only ever uses his scariness on people who are disrespectful of his employees so it's fine.

Dalamus Sarangerel (he/they) -- FFXIV AU. A Xaela Au Ra who grew up in the Steppes in the Sarangerel tribe. His father is an herbalist, and his mother a hunter, giving him the chance to learn a well-rounded skillset for survival. The particulars of his tribe are TBD, but in my head they're more bestial than is shown in-game.

They were a peaceful tribe. His tribe worshipped the moon, Dalamud, as a guiding deity--Dalamus' was even named after it. But when Dalamud turned red and began descending, all manner of creature and people began behaving strangely. Dalamus' tribe was affected gradually, so gradually he hardly noticed, until they started treating Dalamus himself as a harbinger, and sacrificing animals for their deity.

When the Calamity happened, and Dalamud split open to free the dragon Bahamut, Dalamus got the wake-up call he needed to leave the tribe. Their violence continued, but Dalamus was determined to find a way to reverse their madness.

So, he left for Eorzea (where the game takes place), and discovered that the reason he was unaffected by Dalamud was this mysterious power called the Echo which he unknowingly had. And it meant he was a Warrior of Light. Out of one "prophecy" and into another. Chosen One for a different camp. But if defeating Primals will help him find answers on how to help his tribe, he is willing to do what they ask...

(I haven't played super far into the game, so, alas, his story is limited!)

Dalamus Strighym (he/him) -- BG3 AU. Dalamus Strighym, a Drow born simply as Dalamus, as surnames denoted nobility and a House, and he was born a commoner in the subterranean city of Menzoberranzan 200 years before the events of Baldur's Gate 3. (Disclaimer: Lolth-sworn Drow society in DnD is all kinds of messed up and potentially Problematic, and I'm well aware, but I'm not going to be the one to fix it; I'm mostly taking it as-is).

His family's trade was gemcutting, but neither of his brothers showed much aptitude for it. He had two older brothers. Orgoll, the eldest, a mean sonovabitch who delighted in harassing his youngest siblings. Orgoll became a military officer, strong and powerful, and most importantly, feared. Orgoll was jealous of what small amount of favor Dalamus was shown for his gemcutting skills, and would often sabotage his work.

And Nilaufein, second eldest, a weirdo by Drow standards, passionate about his job raising and training Riding Lizards and Pack Lizards, with a curiosity and fascination about the Surface. In private, he was kind, and hated the cruelty which ruled Menzoberranzan, and avoided being cruel whenever possible, instead using his wit and charm to diffuse situations and altercations. Nilaufein tried his best to keep his brothers from seriously injuring each other.

Nilaufein was selected to join a Raid on the Surface when Dalamus was 30. It was to be Nilaufein's Blooding, the coming-of-age ritual that would see him socially treated as an adult, if he survived. But he never returned, and is presumed dead. Dalamus' own Blooding was to battle a Displacer Beast with a handful of other Drow, and he survived, but not without massive scarring from a tentacle. To celebrate his success, Orgoll visited at the behest of their parents, but used the opportunity to mock both Dalamus and Nilaufein. Dalamus killed Orgoll later that night.

For a while, Dalamus had peace as the only child. He is excellent at gemcutting, one of the best. He makes good money for himself and his family. Then his sister, Taliira, is born, and immediately becomes the family favorite (Menzoberranzan operates under a Matriarchal Theocracy, where men are second-class citizens at best, and Priestesses of Lolth rule with fear and cruelty). If Taliira can undergo clerical schooling to become a Priestess, the family can be elevated.

And so, much of Dalamus' money becomes saved and dedicated to Taliira's teachings. While she is still small, Dalamus is often left to take care of her. He does not dare punish or discipline her, leaving her to do whatever she wants. At first, this meant hanging around him and curiously watching him work on his jewelry. She'd ask innocent questions, he'd give straightforward answers. But as she grew up and was encouraged to be cruel, Dalamus became target practice for her budding magic skills. Despite only being a teen, she was a hellion, and further compounded Dalamus' dislike of magic, especially anything that manipulated the mind or body.

She eventually was sent off to schooling, at which point Dalamus got a few years of peace. Until the minor noblewoman, Nedvyllanna Strighym, set eyes upon him. She thought he looked handsome, and interesting (his eyes and hair are not the typical Drow colors often selectively bred for), and his jewelry skills were second-to-none, and she wanted him for herself. And so she did. He became her personal gemcutter, jeweler, and favored consort.

I won't go into details what that entails bc again, messed up society (if you're interested then you can check his blog where I've written headcanons). But we will just say he is not treated kindly, and yet, because of how twisted the society is and the expectations for men, he thinks it's fine, even preferable in some cases. After 8 years, they have a son. He is not allowed to see or be around the son and does not get attached.

Two years later, he gets caught stealing from another noble (at Nedvyllanna's request), and his punishment is exile. She injures him with a whip and sends him out to wander the Underdark and hopefully die. But he survives, using his piwafwi for stealth, his knowledge of Underdark flora to stanch his bleeding, and a little subtle help from a Goddess he does not worship (and doesn't realize it's her doing). He doesn't escape unscathed, though, as an encounter with a bear-like creature called a Quaggoth gives him a back injury that'll prove permanent and be a source of both chronic and acute pain.

But he makes it to the Surface. And despite being blinded by the light and exhausted by the heat, he makes it to a town, and then a city, and commissions a back-support corset to be made. About a month later, he receives the corset--and the Nautiloid appears over Yartar and begins abducting people, Dalamus included.

So now he's got this mind flayer parasite behind his eye, his back injury is still healing, heck his face and neck scarring isn't completely healed yet, and now he has to work with strangers on the Surface where the sun burns his skin and blinds him, to try and figure out how to remove the parasites before they all become Mind Flayers.

It's been a helluva time the past few weeks for him.

Other versions of Dal I occasionally talk about but don't have specific blogs for:

Dalrex -- (Fallout) An odd, intelligent dark-colored Alpha Deathclaw. Seems to have a proclivity for finding shiny loot to try and decorate his hide with. Curiously able to speak, but not much more than a child. Extremely dangerous, and yet some say he's actually docile unless given a reason to be otherwise. Not many are willing to test that theory, though.

PokeDal -- (Pokemon) An adult pokemon trainer named Damon. He's gaunt, has bags under his eyes, is pale, and a Lampent follows him around. It's believed Lampent is a sort of emissary of death, appearing right before someone dies to take their soul, and yet Damon is still here. Some say it's because he's actually a vampire! But he's not. Probably. He's just a tired recluse who lives in a castle. He takes care of a sanctuary for pokemon who can't, won't, don't want to, or shouldn't become partner pokemon for trainers for various reasons. His team consists of mostly Dark types. Lemme see if I can remember... Houndoom, Corviknight, Umbreon, Zoroark, Lampent, Crobat. I think.

Stardew Dally -- (Stardew Valley) Dalmatius is a farmer who got tired of the monotony of working for a corporate entity. He's a bit pale and thin but surprisingly strong. He always wears his straw hat because he burns in the sun so easily. Just might be a vampire. He mostly keeps to himself, but holds respect for the townspeople.

MonHun Dal -- (Monster Hunter) An arrogant, tall Wyverian man named Dalakai. Unlike many of his people, who dedicate their lives to the study and understanding of the world around them through scholarly endeavors, Dalakai thrives being a Monster Hunter. He is considered immature and brash by his people, but his skills are nothing to sneeze at.

[vrrl]

Modern AU Sotha!!! 😲

He's the founder of a scientific and technical company and just a person with eternal fatigue. (He just wants to be left alone for at least five minutes...)

(I'll try to draw Almalexia next)

[between-thepages]

Smubbles! (and two bonus drabbles)

The Witcher:

Little Death

Pairing: Iorveth/Ciaran/Roche, Ciaran/Roche

Rating: E

Tags: Cuckolding, Restraints, Spanking, Anal Sex

Summary: Iorveth's lovers are driving him crazy. He loves it.

Better than in your Wildest Dreams

Pairing: Ves/Maria Luisa La Valette

Rating: M

Tags: Kissing, Luisa's tits

Summary: Luisa has dreamt of Ves quite a few times.

Never let you go

Gen, Ves & Vernon Roche

Rating: G

Tags: Accidental Teenager Acquisition

Summary: Roche's job involves getting people out of their bad situations, nothing more.

A Cintran Holiday

Pairing: Triss Merigold/Philippa Eilhart

Rating: T

Tags: Nudity, Holidays, Modern AU

Summary: They're on holiday, and Triss can't take her eyes off her girlfriend.

Not just swords

Pairing: Ves/Ciri

Rating: T

Tags: Tattoos, Seduction

Summary: Ciri is curious about Ves' tattoos.

Lord of the Rings/Silmarillion:

The Light of the Sun

Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel

Rating: T

Tags: Implied sexual content

Summary: Sometimes Erestor isn't sure what Glorfindel sees in him.

The Stars shine bright

Pairing: Maedhros/Fingon

Rating: T

Tags: Cuddling and Snuggling

Summary: The stars are always at Maedhros' back

Morrowind:

Icarus' Flight

Pairing: none (Gen)

Rating: T

Tags: Magic gone wrong, implied/referenced character death, happy ending

Summary: Magic also has its downsides sometimes.

[nuwanders]

re the video i just reblogged. i suppose the natural conclusion to draw from the ‘morrowind’s music sounds like balkan folk’ hc is that modern au morrowind is going to look just like that.