#morrowind x reader

[ridreamir]

Timeline /Dragon break AU

Finding out that you, the last Dragonborn, are the Nerevarine once again reborn after coming to Solstheim and accidentally awakening yet another ancient evil:

Dagoth Ur: I made you, and you made me. Nebarra and Teldryn Sero, replacement mer of your original bitch tribunal: Bro why'd you make that guy?!?! You,(human?), not having any clue what's happening: I didn't!!! He's talking stupid!!!

And you had three Elven lovers (and haters), your honor. (I will write more of this AU LMAO) Do we get some Mannimarco in there as well

[victorianasshole]

Lowkey forgot about my Vivec x M!Reader fanfiction,,,, Would you guys actually like it to continue? Been writing a bit on it since first chapter, but yea

[emrysthegoodwitch]

THE VESTIGE - DRAGONBORN

Many believe, the Dragonborn found out about their heritage after battling a dragon to save Whiterun.

In fact everyone believed it. They assumed their talent with magic and ancient languages was from growing up in the academic sphere.

Both assumptions were completely and utterly wrong. The Dragonborn found out about their heritage and power granted to them by Akatosh, long before the 4th Era.

They found out about their heritage long before Alduin returned, before the Oblivion Crisis, and before the Tribunal Temple fell.

They found out long ago, when they went by a different moniker. A different title for a different age.

The Dragonborn's first title was The Vestige.

Almost a thousand years ago, when the Three Banners War waged. The Vestige discovered who they were in Elsweyr.

When they accompanied Abnur Tharn on a quest to stop the war, only to release Dragons who had been locked away.

No, no one knew of this. It was a secret they kept dear. Few alive knew of the truth, and even then 'alive' was a loose term.

Were dremora ever really alive?

So when Cultists came to attack them, claiming they were the 'false dragonborn' they felt an anger that hadn't surfaced for a very long time. Perhaps not since Mannimarco dared to sacrifice their soul.

After all the trials and tribulations they had been through, someone wants to claim they were a false dragonborn?

They made their way to Solsthiem, a lonely island they had not been to for a few hundred years. Looking for answers, and not giving up until they found some. They did indeed find answers, their face morphing into a smirk when they realized another Daedric Prince was impeding their way, that would simply not do.

Hermaeus Mora was surprised and extremely alarmed when he felt and saw The Vestige enter his realm. He wanted to assume it was a coincidence, but the second the Thu'um left their throat, Herma Mora second guessed himself for the very first time.

Miraak was surprised to run into another Dragonborn, even more surprised to find out they were far older than they looked. He also appreciated escaping Apocrypha with their aid in one piece.

[dxwnfxll]

Should i start writing elder scrolls stuff? Like x readers, sfw/nsfw alphabets etc?

The characters i'd do are:

Kaidan, Dagoth ur, Voryn Dagoth, Sotha sil, Almalexia, Vivec, Indoril Nerevar, maybe some others if they're suggested?

And i'd be open to write just about anything (as long as it doesn't cross a boundary of mine) and i do take requests

[holymusicalmothman]

Happy Birthday, Pretty Girl

Spencer Agnew x Hecox!Reader

Word Count: 2.6 (good lord, that’s a lot for me)

TWs: Five year age gap, female reader, I gave reader my own bday cause why not it’s my bday today, reader is under 5’5”, coworker relationship (idk man like I said in my lil sneak peek, I was stoned for most of writing this),

Smosh Masterlist

*******

Friday Night -INT: Buca di Beppo

Birthdays are important. It’s a day to gather with loved ones and celebrate. Or just be glad you made it another year.

You loved any chance to spend with your friends. Granted, you worked with most, if not all, of your friends. And your job was fun. But still! It was always made you happy to get together outside of work.

And what a get together it was. Your brother, Ian, had helped you with getting as many of your coworkers as possible to meet up at Buca after work on the Friday before your actual birthday.

You were sandwiched into a seat between Angela and Chanse at the moment, taking a selfie with your birthday buddy. Your birthday and Chanse’s were only a few days apart and you had no problem sharing the spotlight.

Angela smacked you in the arm suddenly. “He’s here.”

You and Chanse looked at her. Her stare only grew more insistent. As if she was implying something that should have been obvious.

“He’s here.” She repeated.

“Girl, who’s here?” Chanse questioned.

Angela threw a quick glance over her shoulder before leaning closer and lowering her voice. “Spencer.”

You glanced from your friend to the aforementioned man as he approached the table. Only to whip your head back around to Chanse as you heard a gasp leave him.

“You told Angela but you didn’t tell me?” Faux offence was written all over his face.

“No. I told Tommy, who accidentally told Ang.” You jerked your head towards Tommy, who had sat across from the three of you with a glass of wine while you had been distracted by Spencer.

“And you didn’t even mean to tell me.” Tommy admitted. “It just slipped out behind the scenes during Smosh Under the Influence.

The moment flashed quickly through your head as you felt Angela stand suddenly. You gave her another curious look as she moved to the other side of Chanse.

She leaned across him to quietly whisper at you, “This way he sits by you.”

“Oh my god.” Chanse muttered.

Your felt your cheeks and ears grow warm as the recently vacated chair next to you was soon occupied by none other than Spencer Agnew.

You and Spencer had known each other for years. You were 20 to his 25 when you met, you having not officially joined your brother’s Youtube Channel until then. You had bonded with him over a shared love of video games, Morrowind being a shared favorite.

You were friends. Close friends. But you, just like you had said in your drunken confession to Tommy, had fallen hard.

It wasn’t weird for you to hang out with Spencer. You’d carpooled with him to various off site filming locations (granted there was other people in the car but still! It counted!), you also often escaped to the editors hub to hide when you were tired or you’d have Sunday afternoons spent over discord with a shared cozy game of Minecraft.

But oh how you wanted more.

Heck, you had seen the fan edits of you and him online. There were several Reddit threads that were trying to figure out if you both were pulling a Shayne and Courtney. The fans’ reaction to the idea was about 80% positive. There will always be someone who doesn’t approve. But the overall reaction had you hoping that maybe one day there would be something.

“Hey there, birthday girl.” Spencer gave you that smile of his and you felt yourself smiling back before you even thought about it.

“Hi, Spence. Glad you could come.”

“I wasn’t gonna miss your Birthday Dinner,” he said, deep blue eyes looking directly into yours. “In fact, I was wondering…”

He trailed off sounding nervous and you felt Tommy gently press the outside of his foot to the outside of your own as well as a Chanse grab your (shirt/dress) from your right as they both pretended to listen to something Amanda was saying. Both unseen gestures, but you knew they were listening to your conversation and you were grateful for their support and excitement.

Unfortunately. Ian happened. Your wonderful, kind, not at all going to be strangled later brother.

“Hey, do you wanna do gifts while we’re waiting for our meals or after?” He had walked over and leaned right between the two of you, forcing you to break eye contact.

Tommy sighed and threw back the rest of his wine and Chanse groaned. The moment was gone. Whatever feeling had been lingering in the air had evaporated.

“After, Ian.” Was all you said. As he retreated, he glanced between you and Spencer and you could almost see the lightbulb go off as he figured it out.

Conversation continued. You spent the rest of the night with your friends, making sure to talk with everyone, but always drifting back to Spencer’s side. You had caught a thumbs up from Anthony at one point and you rolled your eyes. Of course Ian had told him.

It was almost 11 pm and most of the Smosh family was filtering out into the parking lot. You were still inside, making sure nothing was left behind and were just about to turn to leave when someone caught you by the hand.

It felt like a movie scene in your mind as you turned back to Spencer.

“Hi.” Your voice sounded soft in your ears and there was a twinkle in his eyes.

He didn’t release your hand as you turned to face him fully, taking a step closer.

He looked down at your conjoined limbs. “I was wondering…”

“Yes?” You took another step, choosing to make a bold move and lace your fingers through with his.

A moment passed.

“Your birthday. Not today, the actual day. Can I take you out to dinner?” He said quietly, a nervous energy running through him as he continued to stare at your hands.

He finally looked back up at you. “As a date.”

The air left your lungs and your smile turned into a full blown grin.

“Yes! Yes, absolutely!”

The nervous undertone vanished and a grin took its place. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Yes, I’d love that.” Your heart was through the roof with excitement.

“Cool.” He said trying to sound cool, but the excited grin gave him away. “Can I walk you to your car?”

A light giggle left your lips. “I came with Ian, but yes.”

As you walked out of the restaurant, you kept Spencer’s hand in yours, the warmth in your cheeks cooling as the outside air greeted you.

You spotted Ian leaning up against his car talking to Anthony and you headed over. Spencer released your hand as you reached the car.

Ian turned from Anthony, both of them saying bye to each other, not having noticed the two of you until then. Anthony gave you and Spencer a wave before leaving.

“Ready?” Ian asked. You nodded and he hopped in the car.

“I’ll see you soon, Spence.” In a bold move, you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before getting into the car, too.

When you peeked at his receding figure in the rear view, him cheeks were red and he had a giddy grin. He shook his head, looking at the car driving away before he headed to his own.

***

Friday Night INT: Hecox Sibling Home

As soon as you were home you took off for your room. Ian had barely taken the keys from the ignition and you were gone.

You were usually pretty grateful for the fact you shared the house with your brother. Added a sense of safety, saved money, and it definitely helped that you both worked at Smosh.

But in that moment as you shut your bedroom door and whipped out your phone all you wanted to do was scream.

There was a new group chat that was formed. Chanse, Tommy, and Angela were in it and Tommy had simply said, “Well?” Angela and Chanse had each sent a “👀”.

A laugh escaped you as you went through your nightly routine and got in bed. Chanse had added “Storytime miss maam.”

You: He asked me out.

Angela: TEV BUCKS TOMMY.

Angela: *ten

Tommy: 😳😳🫡🫡

Chanse: Andddd?!??

You laughed to yourself again as you quickly relayed the details to your friends.

You heard a knock and Ian stuck his head in. “Got a sec?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You said, sitting up as he took a seat in your desk chair.

“You okay? You vanished as soon as we got home, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.” He confessed.

You smiled. You had such a great older brother. Granted, he was definitely still a brother. But he looked out for you and you appreciated it.

“It was honestly the best night, Ian. Thank you for helping me round up everyone.”

“Of course. I know you just had a whole dinner, but do you want to do something on your actual birthday? Just the coolest Smosh siblings?”

“We’re the only Smosh siblings,” you laughed. “And I’m ok. I actually have a date that night.” The last part was admitted a little more softly than the rest.

Ian’s eyebrows shot up. “Who is it? Is it Spencer?”

While you were sorta surprised that he got it on the first guess, it made telling Ian that you have a date with a coworker less nauseating. You nodded at his question.

Leaning back in the chair, Ian continued, “You’ve liked him for a while, huh?”

You nodded again, a slight smile on your face.

Ian looked as if he were in deep thought for a moment before nodding. “That’ll be good. He’s a good guy.” He stood and stretched, ready to head off to bed. “Night, dude. I’m proud of you.”

“Night, Ian.”

Monday, Almost 7 pm -INT Hecox Sibling Home

“Ian! He’s gonna be here any minute!” You said as your brother had you cornered in the kitchen.

“Exactly! You’re gonna stay in here and I’ll get the door.”

You rolled your eyes. Were all older brothers like Ian? Both oblivious and caring and annoying all in the same go.

After a few more moments, there was a knock at the door and Ian was dust in the wind. All you could do was shake your head and follow after him.

Ian had a giant smirk on his face as he leaned against the wall by the door.

“You can answer it yourself, I know you want to. Have a good night. Shoot me a text if you’ll be home after 11, that way I don’t think you’re a robber.” And with that, he left you alone at the front door.

You took a deep breath before pulling it open.

Spencer had spiffied up just for you, you could tell. The jeans were dark and paired with a well-fitted button down that brought out the blue in his eyes.

A single red rose was held in his hand, which he offered to you.

“You look incredible.” He said softly.

Your face warmed. “You too.” You reached out for the rose, your fingers brushing against his as you accepted the flower. “Thank you.”

The tips of his ears turned red as he glanced away smiling. He offered you his arm. “May I?”

You laughed. “You may.”

The playful energy carried into Spencer’s car, the conversation casual and light.

“Am I allowed to know where we’re going?” You asked him.

He smiled. “I hope you won’t mind me taking you to two different stops? I have something planned.”

“I trust you.”

If possible, his smile seemed to get bigger and as he drove, he offered his upturned palm to you in a silent invitation.

You couldn’t even imagine refusing.

Spencer parked in front of a small pizza joint and looked at you. “Stop Number One.”

It was a simple, serve-by-the-slice kind of place. But it smelled better than any chain pizza shop you’d ever been in.

“I take it you’re about to tell me that this is the best pizza you’ve ever had?” You asked him as the two of you got in line to order.

“Yup.” Spencer drew the word out so that the ‘p’ made a pop sound. “And this is gonna sound basic, but their pepperoni pizza is my favorite.”

“I think I’ll take your reccommendation then.”

You both stepped to the counter and Spencer ordered. As you reached for your purse, intending for paying half at the very least, he gently stopped your arm by snagging your hand and quickly paying.

“Nice try, pretty girl. You’re not paying for a thing.”

Your face heated for what felt like the millionth time that night. You wondered briefly how someone could sound so casual and confident but their hands felt so clammy. But you knew that you were in the same boat.

As the two of you found a seat with your food, you told him the joke you had found online the other day.

“Hey, did you hear the weather forecast in Tamriel this week?”

“No, what is it?” There was that smile again.

“Today, rain. Tomorrow, wind.” You finished off your lame joke and anxiously took a bite of your pizza (it was really good).

“What do you call a khajiit that has lycanthropy?” Spencer fired back, taking a bite of his own pizza.

“I dunno, what?”

“An Elsweyrwolf,”

You both laughed. It was easy to be around Spencer. Yes, you were nervous as all get out, but it was a first date and he was probably feeling the same. But as the two of you sat and chatted over your pizza slices, you realized just how easy it really was.

Eventually it was time for Stop Number Two.

A Retro Arcade.

Spencer bought the two of you passes to play and you both roamed the 80s and 90s arcade games.

“Play Galaga with me?” You asked.

“Game on, birthday girl.”

***

Friday, almost 11 pm EXT Hecox Sibling House

Spencer pulled up to the curb and parked.

“Can I walk you to your door?” The tender tone was back.

You nodded and the both of you walked in comfortable silence to the front door.

“I had a great time tonight, Spence. Best birthday ever. Thank you.” You said to him.

“I also had a fantastic time tonight and wouldn’t be opposed to having many more of them, if you’d like?” His dark blue twinkled with hope.

“Are you saying you want to keep going on dates with me?” Your voice grew soft, almost a whisper but not quite.

“Amongst other things,” He stepped closer.

“What kind of things?” Your eyes flickered down to his lips and then back up.

“Well, I want to call you my girlfriend, but I don’t want you to think we’re moving too fast.” He paused, your noses brushing gently as you slowly gravitated towards each other.

“You can call me that.” Now you were whispering.

He grinned and let out a quick huff of air, almost a happy laugh. “I also really wanna kiss you.”

“Okay.”

His hands reached instantly to cup your face and pull you that final inch to him. It was tender and sweet and you had faint memories of dreaming of storybook kisses as a child. This was one of those fairytale sort of kisses. The first kiss that everyone wants. When you parted, you didn’t go far, choosing instead to press your face into his shoulder and laugh breathlessly as he wrapped his arms around you.

You both stood in that cozy, comfortable silence for a moment.

“I was serious.” Spencer said. “I want to call you my girlfriend.”

“And I was serious too. I want you to call me that. I’d like to call you my boyfriend. It doesn’t feel too fast, Spence. If anything it sort of feels like it should have happened forever ago. It feels right.”

His arms tightened and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m gonna let you head inside, I’ll see you first thing in the morning, yeah?”

“Bright and early.” You smiled at him, making your way inside. “Night, Spence.”

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

[vncannyvalleygrrl]

My Masterlist :D

request/question status: closed, questions still open tho

check me out on my ao3

Smiling Friends:

Pim Headcanons (general, dating, nsfw)

Charlie Headcanons (general, dating, nsfw)

Glep Headcanons (general)

Allan Headcanons (general, dating, nsfw)

Allan x Shy Reader Hcs (dating, small nsfw)

Allan x Demon Reader Hcs (general, dating, nsfw)

Allan x Reader w/ an Anxiety disorder (general, dating)

Pim/Charlie x Shy Janitor Reader (separate hcs, general and dating)

Allan x Considerate Reader (general, dating, nsfw)

Charlie x Bratty Male Reader (general, nsfw)

Clingy Allan/Clingy Charlie x Reader (dating only)

Pim x Tall/Bubbly Reader (general, dating)

Allan x Reader w/ vision problems (coming soon!)

Allan x Reader w/ a degradation kink (coming soon!)

Other:

Birchum x Karponzi (mdni)

fandoms i write for and rules for requests below the cut!

Fandoms I will write for:

Smiling friends

YOLO Crystal Fantasy/Silver Destiny

Team Fortress 2

Gravity Falls

Read Dead Redemption 2 (will only write for micah if someone's beating the shit out of him)

Spider-Man ITSV/ATSP

Some Marvel Francises (Deadpool, Venom, etc)

Elder Scrolls 3-5 (still playing through morrowind)

I have no mouth and I must scream (IHNMAIMS)

Will add more once I remember to :p

Request Rules:

No asking me for money??? I got a request asking for $300+ and like... I write fan fiction on Tumblr. What makes you think I have money.

SFW and NSFW are allowed!

I will happily write platonic stuff I go crazy over that

Headcanons and one shots allowed (need a topic/scenario to go off of)

I can write for readers who have certain conditions like autism or schizophrenia but I'm sorry if I get any details about it wrong, all I ask is that you specify what you personally experience with the condition you would like me to mention. I'll be more accurate if it's something I actually have.

I can write for cis, trans, non-binary, and intersex readers!

I can also write for any flavor of sexuality!

For NSFW, I won't touch topics about fetishes. I don't want to kink shame but I am shaming this time. BDSM, public, etc don't count, I'm talking stuff like scat.

I can touch on sensitive topics like self harm, eating disorders, addictions, etc, but only if it's about someone trying to RECOVER from them. I do not support someone hurting themselves in any way.

For the love of GOD no illegal requests. I will not write about someone under 18 or an animal if it includes dating and/or NSFW. I would rather shit in my hands and clap than write something that degenerate.

No yandere/dere stuff. I'm sorry but it is so corny to me.

Just use common sense pls 🙏

[priafey]

AO3 Twenty Questions

tagged by @ladytanithia. a big thank you, as always!

tagging @inkoherentwriting, @azures-grace and YOU, dear reader

(copy/paste for the questions below the cut)

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

Four, not counting the work I published as a reference list for my OCs.

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

84,627

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Just TES:Skyrim for the moment. Sadly, I haven't been able to play any of the other games just yet.

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm dying for Among the Many Lost Souls to surpass Sought and Found. It was my first venture into longform writing and it shows. Bleh.

5 – Do you respond to comments?

Almost always. If I don't respond, it's usually because I tried my darndest and couldn't think of a constructive or meaningful response.

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The one I'm writing right now :3c (Among the Many Lost Souls). I'm putting Gwilin through the wringer and then I'm gonna hang him out to dry.

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sought and Found, I suppose.

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

No, I don't. I lowkey wish I did. Firstly, because haters can be remarkably perceptive, and, secondly, because I am as interested in what makes someone scrunch up their nose or click away from my fic as I am about hearing people's thoughts on what was well-executed about them. I think my stuff is too niche to really draw a lot of negative attention (right now, at least).

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Always, my man! I consider it my moral duty to make my characters fuck nasty. Why? BECAUSE IT'S HOT DUHHH

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

People who write crossovers scare me so bad. I can barely limp my way through having to structure a plot around already-existing lore and making sure everything that happens in the story is congruent with in-universe rules, meanwhile there are people out there writing Skyrim x The Walking Dead crossovers. It's cocobananas.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know. I don't really give a fuck if people steal my shit. Fighting with someone over authorship of a work that is principally riding on the coattails of an existing IP, which can't even be monetized, mind you, feels like a real 'race to the bottom' situation to me. I'm well aware of the quality of my work and I'm proud to have the drive to constantly better my skills. That's all that matters.

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Though I did start translating Sought and Found into Spanish, I dropped it when I started writing Among the Many Lost Souls. In any case, I would be so, so touched if someone decided to translate a fic of mine.

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

Also nope. Never tried collaborative writing outside of an academic setting. Totally open to it, though!

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Uh, I'm not real big on shipping existing characters. I mostly just think about my OCs, or my friend's OCs, with each other. Aside from Gwilin x [pretty much every other NPC in Skyrim], I think thoughts about @abstractredd's guys, Hedgrod and Athrar, quite often.

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Fic-related WIP? Just one. I wanted to write another romance fic (like Sought and Found) featuring a netch farmer who's a cowboy-type character. Sexy Dunmer with a southwestern accent. Brokeback Mountain: Morrowind Edition. You get the picture.

I might still finish it, but I'm reluctant to even touch it because I haven't played Morrowind, and would have to do a real deep-dive into everything related to Dunmer in TES lore to write it. I know a lot already, but I never feel like I know enough, y'know?

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm good at setting a scene and painting a picture. This is, I think, a new ability I acquired in the past year or so. I've also been told my smut-writing abilities are pretty good, which is always nice to hear :) If I had to list what I consider to be my own strengths, I'd add that I've gotten a lot better at cutting the fat out of my writing (especially from dialogue tags and in describing facial expressions and body language).

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue is a bitch a half for me to write. It's probably the thing I most obsessively tweak before publishing. I think my dialogue tends to fall short.

Pacing is another issue. I often criticize, in other fic author's works, that they present an interesting image or idea and then leave me hungry because they don't elaborate on it, but I am the biggest culprit of this if I don't constantly remind myself that, yes, people want to hear more about this or that. They want you to mystify it, justify it, make it sexy, make it like a puzzle for them to solve. You can't just leave it cut-and-dry, much as my autism compels to do because "It's quite literally saying the same thing". Like, that's great, bestie, but you have to elaborate! Say the same thing just make it sound cooler than it is!

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

This is cool. I don't mind busting out Google Translate to enjoy a fic. That mouse-hovering feature that lets you add alternative text to a fic on ao3 is super useful for this sort of thing.

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

My first, and only other, fandom: My Little Pony. I was 12.

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

I love them all for different reasons, BUT Among the Many Souls has blood and sex and drama in it, so yeah. It's in the lead.

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

5 – Do you respond to comments?

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16 – What are your writing strengths?

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

[skyrim-forever]

22, 18 and 12 for the Asks To Spread Love

Awe thank you friend!

22. Give kudos to someone who deserves recognition for their contributions to the fandom (event mod, server mod, creator of rec lists, etc.)

I'm going to go with one of my favourite blogs @argisthebulwark they write some amazing works (at my core im an x reader gal), so many different characters and it's all so good too??? My self-care routine includes going to their master list and rereading anything with Teldryn Sero or Erandur. If you're not reading their work what are you doing then??? :P

18. Something you initially did not like but came around to

Never in a million years did I ever think I'd want to play Morrowind but here I am! Ready to purchase it next payday haha

Also Master Neloth, I went from having no opinion on him to <3 <3 <3 because of tesblr brainwashing :P

12. Recommend some fanart of an uncommon character, place, or event

I'm going to recommend this post by @thana-topsy because it is truly one of my favourite things on this website, Bong Neloth is beautiful and just like me :)

[datorchoe]

Do u have Sfw or Nsfw HC for Seht?

I know exactly who to tag in this lol. @shadow-wolf510 here some food for ya Queen 😌

WARNING! NSFW UNDER CUT!

——————

SFW

- Seht doesn’t have a ton of experience with ‘romance’ and stuff like that, so he will spend a TON of time figuring out his feelings. But when he does, he will tell you. But it will be VERY awkward. He’s just like “I think you are very cool” but in terms that only people who’ve achieved CHIM and know Seht very well can understand lol.

- It would be hard for him to show love at first because he has no experience with that. So it will be very subtle. Like, giving you random gifts or ordering a apostle to bring you food. Stuff like that.

- But once he starts to get more comfortable with affection and things like that, he’ll definitely open up to you more with physical needs like that.

- He literally can’t keep his hands off of you lol.

NSFW

- No longer the Clockwork God, now the Sex God 😎

- We ALL know homie is hung like a horse. He’s like, 8ft tall or something, we all know. He’s probably packing 7-8 inches.

- BREEDING KINK AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE THANK YOU. As much as he doesn’t seem like it sometimes, we all know he’s got a pretty big ego. He’d get so hard to the thought of your WHOLE body being claimed as his.

- Homie is also, like, silent tbh. It’s scary. Like, you can barely hear him breathe he’s so quiet. He’s more expressive with his facial expressions.

- Also a bottom. Fight me.

[mavzoon]

Mistake at Odirniran (Aryon smut)

I reached 55 hours in Morrowind two days ago and I’m proud to inform you I’ve become a simp for Aryon.  POV character is an unnamed and undescribed female. She could be you or your character. Whatever goes.

Warnings: vaginal sex, cunnilingus, blowjob, roughness, choking, master/apprentice dynamic

Premise: She messes up and kills the wrong person. Master Aryon reacts in his own way. 

She found every excuse to take longer getting back to Vos. Secunda and Masser were up in the sky when she arrived, and most decent people were asleep. She fidgeted her fingers as she levitated to the top of Tel Vos. Her mission to Odirniran hadn’t gone according to plan at all. Milyn Faram was alive, and his stronghold was barely damaged. The same could not be said for Vedelea Othril.

She sighed. It was well known the Telvanni experiment on people, most often slaves. She’d known it well enough way before she decided to join them. It didn’t make her feel any better, seeing how glazed with hopelessness Vedelea’s eyes had been. It was likely she may have compromised her position within the Telvanni, but to her dismay, she was more concerned about Aryon’s reaction. Once more, she began to wonder when she started seeing him as more than her patron.

______

“Is that Tel Vos?” she asked.

Ienasa Radas nodded. “Yes. It’s quite something, isn’t it? I heard that something went wrong when Master Aryon was growing the fungus.”

“Isn’t it unusual for a Telvanni to take residence in an imperial stronghold?”

Ienasa gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, it is. Master Aryon is like that. He’s odd even for Telvanni standards. Vos is growing rapidly, and we all have him to thank for it. We even got a tradehouse now! Do you know any other Telvanni that’s as open-minded?”

She found all the praise hard to believe and took special care to ask about Aryon in Tel Vos as well. To her surprise, everyone more or less felt the same about him.

She chugged a potion of rising force and levitated to the top of his tower. Turedus chuckled when she stumbled in, disoriented from flying. He led her to Master Aryon’s chamber.

She’d come to understand that Master Aryon was the youngest of the Telvanni Council, but she hadn’t expected him to be so young, maybe two hundred years at most. He waved Turedas out and beckoned her closer. “I am Master Aryon of House Telvanni. What brings you here?”

She tried her best not to shy away from his shrewd gaze. “I was hoping you’d become my patron.”

He hummed and looked her up and down. “This is an interesting proposition indeed. “I believe we can arrange a situation to our mutual benefit. I will become your patron if you convince another potential ally, Baladas Demnevanni, to abandon his reclusive ways and join the Council.”

She couldn’t suppress the smile. “Thank you, Master Aryon!”

And so months passed, her doing whatever chores he gave her. She found him a kind and generous patron. While the other Councilors she’d worked for had rewarded her well enough, except for Neloth, Aryon nearly spoiled her. He gave her valuable books and taught her spells with the patience of a saint. It all made her head spin. Kindness and generosity had been the last thing she expected to receive when she decided to join the Telvanni.

In time, she became comfortable enough to confide in Aryon when something troubled her. On the other hand, he began asking her opinions on whatever he was researching. On occasion, they simply enjoyed each others’ company whilst doing nothing in particular.

“I admire what you have accomplished in House Telvanni, but any student of mine must learn the rudimentary wizard spells. You know everything except levitation, and I suggest you get to it.”

She paused and glanced at her satchel of potions. “I’ve tried many times but I never got the hang of it. I can barely stand flying with potions. I’m like a fish out of water, so to speak.”

Aryon chuckled. “That won’t do. I can help you, just show me what you can do. Go on, give it a shot.”

“A-are you sure? I could knock something over.”

He waved his hand. “Go on. I will catch you if you fail.” She gulped and pulled as much Magicka into her hands as possible, then cast it. Her body jolted up and slammed into the ceiling of the fungus. She yelped, lost her control and began to fall. She squealed when Aryon caught her. They levitated just above his desk.

“No wonder you haven’t mastered this yet,” he said, smiling. “You cast the spell as if you wanted to force your way up! Here, let me show you how it should feel,” he placed his hand just below her throat and cast a levitation spell on her. His warm fingers made her skin tingle. He let her go, and she floated relatively still as if being rocked by waves.

“See? Levitation is supposed to be gentle.”

She hoped he wouldn’t notice the burning blush on her cheeks. “T-thank you. I think I understand now. How do I get down?”

“You can’t on your own since I made you levitate. Here,” he offered her his hand. “I’ll help you.” He held her hands and pulled her down to the floor. Her chest tightened at the feeling of his warm hands. The spell wore off, and she stumbled from the sudden weight and would’ve fallen if Aryon hadn’t held her. “You’ll get used to it. Try it again.”

She did. Again and again, each time she fell, Aryon caught her. By the time she got a hold of it, she felt drunk from all the touching, her body burning.

______

She blushed at the memory of it. That may have been the moment it all changed.

“Ah, you’re back,” Turedus said when she stepped into the tower. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze on her. “Master Aryon’s been expecting you. Milyn Faram was here a few hours ago and… Well, good luck.”

She nodded. “Thank you for the warning.”

She slid the door to Aryon’s study open slowly as not to make a sound. Aryon sat with his back turned to her, reading a book. She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Master Aryon?”

He set the book down and turned to her, his expression not giving anything away. “I hear the Hlaalu in Odirniran have been retired. Milyn Faram didn’t seem too pleased, though. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” He gave her a knowing look.

She tried her best to calm her breathing down. “There was a woman in a cell, and she looked so sad,” she couldn’t bring herself to continue.

Aryon stood up and walked up to her.

She took a step back, pressing her back against the door. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to free her, but she attacked me when I opened the door. I didn’t mean to-”

He raised his finger to her lips. “Faram seemed to think she was a valuable test subject, and he was most disappointed at her untimely death.”

She furrowed her brows. “There were plenty of bandits and rogues near his hold. He could’ve easily taken one of them for his pet.”

Aryon chuckled. “You may be right, but I have few friends and I had been hoping to win Faram over, especially since he knows Archmagister Gothren quite well.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I never meant to make you look bad. I’m sorry for disappointing you,” she added and looked away.

Aryon tilted her chin up, his hand lingering. She shivered from the closeness of it. “You could never disappoint me,” he paused and for a moment, she could see the hesitation in his eyes. “I am proud to be your patron. There will be more times to win Faram over. In fact,” he scoffed. “He said he is willing to overlook the entire thing for a price.”

“Truly?” She was confused. “What price? I’ll do anything I can to fix things.”

He studied her and traced his fingers over the faint bruise on her jaw from the battle. “He wanted to see you chastised.”

Her eyes widened, and not entirely from his words. “What?”

He pulled his hand away. “The fetcher wanted to do it himself. You need not fear. I won’t let him near you if I can help it.”

She was quiet for a moment. Aryon had every need for more allies, especially since most of the council were more than happy to see him gone. She knew it well enough. “It’s alright; I want to help.”

He shook his head. “You’re my protege, and I won’t hurt you for the pleasure of someone like Faram.”

He stepped back, and she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer before she could resist. His eyes widened in surprise and he positively radiated heat. “Please, let me do this for you,” she said, her voice soft.

He placed a hand on her cheek and leaned closer. “This goes beyond your duties. Tell me, what do you really want?”

“You,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He didn’t manage to mask the conflict on his face. She felt the tiniest tremble on his hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she let go of his hand. “Do I have your leave to apologise to Milyn Faram?”

“No,” Aryon said and took a step back. His usually calm demeanour was replaced with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “Do you truly mean what you said?”

Her face burned, and she leaned against the shut door. “I do. I’m sorry. I know it’s entirely inappropriate.”

He walked up to her. “I do not care what’s appropriate,” he traced his thumb over her lips. “May I?”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded. He leaned down and kissed her, slow and searching. She placed one hand on his chest and the other one on the back of his neck. Gently, Aryon pinned her against the door, their bodies pressed together. She moaned into the kiss accidentally.

He pulled back, their noses brushing together and laughed. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

She blushed and drew circles on his skin with her fingers. “How long…?”

He hummed. “From the beginning, I suppose,” he kissed her again, his hand trailing down her side. “You’re so wonderful, how could I not want you?”

She trembled when he lightly bit her bottom lip and replied with equal fervour. She led his hands from her sides to her chest. His breath trembled. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes, please Aryon. Touch me,” she bit her lip.

He chuckled and trailed kisses down from her lips to her neck. With great care, he pulled her robes open and squeezed her breasts, making her moan. He kissed her breast, toying with her nipple with his tongue.

She threw her head back and moaned, the heat in her core becoming nearly unbearable. Her face was burning hot, and her pussy ached to be touched. Ever so slowly, she tried rubbing against his leg. She squeaked when he placed his hand on her thigh, pushing the robes higher. He slid his hand higher and trailed it over her pussy.

“You’re so wet and we’ve barely begun,” he said, his voice dripping with need. Gently, he began to rub her clit at a steady pace. He kissed the side of her neck, biting and sucking, no doubt leaving marks.

She trembled and held onto him, her climax nearing. His fingers were too warm, too skilled, and the walls behind her were too thin. “W-wait,” she moaned.

Aryon stopped immediately and looked at her with concern.

She took a breath. “I don’t want Turedus to hear me.”

He nodded. “My bedroom is just downstairs, come,” he took her hand and led her down.

Breathless and needy, he pushed her down onto the bed and crawled on top of her, kissing her all the while. He helped her slide her robes off. She trembled, his hands were so warm. She wiggled her robes off completely and tossed them off the bed, resisting the urge to cover up her bare body.

Aryon pulled back from their kiss and looked at her with such adoration her heart throbbed. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

She smirked, feeling a surge of confidence, and began to slide his robes open. “You’ve thought of me like this before?”

He chuckled and kissed her wrist. “More than I care to admit,” his ever-smiling eyes glimmered with amusement when she blushed. He sat up and slid his extravagant robes off, revealing a strong yet lightly scarred body. She did her best to not look too down.

Aryon trailed kisses down her body. “May I?” he asked and kissed her inner thigh.

She nodded though she wasn’t sure what he meant. She’d had lovers before, but none had been as concerned about her pleasure. He’d proved himself to be trustworthy.

She threw her head back with a moan when he kissed her clit. He moaned as he licked it. “Wh- what are you doing?” she whimpered, her eyes threatening to tear up.

Aryon looked up at her. To her horror, his lips glistened with her wetness. “Has no one done this for you before?”

She shook her head.

“N’wah’s,” he leaned back in, pleasuring her with more enthusiasm. He rubbed his fingers over her dripping pussy and looked at her for any trace of hesitation. Only seeing bliss and wanting, he pushed one slender finger in. He curled it up and rubbed against the special spot within her.

She whimpered, curling her fingers around the furs of the bed as climax neared at an incredible pace. Aryon added another finger. “Don’t hold back. No one will hear you down here,” he said and gave her clit a particularly harsh suck.

She cried out his name and trembled as her climax washed over her. Aryon held her down and thrust a third finger into her. She ran her fingers through his messy hair and he moaned. “Please, it’s too much,” she whined.

“You can take it,” he whispered. He pinched her nipple with his other hand. “I want you to come again,” he swirled his tongue around her clit.

To her surprise, she felt another orgasm nearing. It felt somehow more intense. Not even by herself had she ever felt such pleasure. The way aryon pleasured her with his mouth was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was as if he was coaxing her to release with each curl of his fingers. She came with a loud cry of his name.

He pulled his fingers out and crawled up to kiss her. She moaned into the kiss, tasting her wetness as their tongues danced. He pulled back and kissed her cheek. “Was that to your satisfaction?”

She couldn’t suppress her laugh. “I’ve never felt so good before,” she blushed. “The thing you did with your mouth was very nice.”

He smiled and licked his lips. “I am glad. You tasted wonderful.”

She whimpered and averted her gaze. “Please, don’t embarrass me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Do you want to keep going?” Aryon kissed over a bruise on her neck.

She nodded. “Please, but may I do the same for you?”

He placed a hand on her cheek and looked at her with such intensity she shivered. “Only if you want to. I shall not pressure you into anything.”

She nodded eagerly. “I want to,” she trailed her hands down Aryon’s sides and paused just above his hips. “Let me make you feel good too, please.” She could just about make out the faintest blush on him.

With a surge of confidence, she pushed him down and crawled on top of him. Her face flushed when she looked down. She wrapped her hand around his hard cock and gave it an experimental stroke. He let out a quiet groan and placed his hands on her thighs. Encouraged, she settled into a slow rhythm.

With delight, she watched him unravel, his groans growing louder. He dug his fingers into her thighs. “D-dear, please,” he begged.

She leaned down and took his cock into her mouth. He gasped out a moan and placed his hand on the back of her head. She swirled her tongue and tried to take as much of him as possible. She bobbed up and down, encouraged by the arousing noises he was making.

She cupped his balls. He jerked his hips up, his cock hitting the back of her throat. She moaned before he could apologise. He looked at her, his eyes wide in surprise. “F-fuck, I-” she took his cock to the back of her throat, hummed and looked up at him.

He pulled her up and slammed their lips together.

She pulled back. “Why’d you make me stop? Did I do something wrong?”

He let out a breathless chuckle. “You were amazing,” he cupped her cheeks. “I want to make love to you. May I?”

She trembled at his words. Words like ‘fuck’ were what she was used to, and making love was another thing entirely out of her experience.

The lust in Aryon’s eyes was quickly replaced by tenderness. “It’s alright. I won’t hurt nor force you into anything. Do you want to stop?”

She shook her head without a second thought. “I’ve never done this while feeling so… Fuck, I don’t know. This doesn’t feel like the usual one-time affair.”

For a moment, he looked almost worried. “Do you want this to be a one-time thing?”

She leaned her face onto his hands. He was delightfully warm all over, and she found it easy to imagine falling asleep in his arms. “I don’t want this to stop. Can we keep going?”

Aryon flashed her the brightest smile she’d ever seen on someone. He pulled her into a kiss. “Of course we can keep going.” he flipped them over and pinned her down beneath him. “How do you like it?” he whispered in her ear.

She bit her lip, feeling shy once more. “I like being choked.”

Aryon gave her an entirely wicked grin. “Like this?” he wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed the sides of her neck. She nodded eagerly. “Tap my chest twice if you want to stop,” he said and placed his other hand on her side, just beneath her breast. He thrust into her wet pussy.

She let out a whimper. The way his cock was stretching her, combined with the expert way he was choking her made her forget all of her previous shyness. Her pussy was still sensitive from her last orgasms, and she arched her back, moaning without care. Aryon captured her mouth in a fervent kiss and began thrusting into her at a slow pace.

Her pussy throbbed with each lusty moan and grunt he let out. He leaned forward, grabbed her hands and pushed them above her head. Their noses brushed together, and she whimpered at how he looked at her. His expression was at once tender and full of lust. She closed her eyes and looked away, a tear slipping down her cheek from the lack of air.

Aryon was about to pull away when she whimpered. “Don’t stop! Please, it’s so good!”

He bit her lip and tightened his hold on her throat. “Never expected your needs to be so filthy.”

She looked up at him, teary-eyed from the pleasure. “Aryon… I love it.”

He gave a particularly hard thrust to her delight, his cock hitting the most sensitive places in her. He bit down on her shoulder, their bodies pressed flush together. “You’re mine, fuck,” he groaned and thrust into her roughly.

Her breasts bounced from the impact. Aryon tightened his hold on her throat, completely cutting off her breath. Everything felt much more intense, from the way his cock was stretching her to his occasional kisses on her body. The sound of his ragged breathing and the meeting of their bodies was like music to her ears. The way he moaned was easily the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.

He loosened his hold on her for a moment to let her regain her breath. She nearly screamed from pleasure when she felt another orgasm building up. She moaned his name with abandon, no longer caring if anyone heard.

He let go of her hands and began rubbing her clit again. She whimpered, her pussy feeling completely overstimulated. “I’m going to-” she interrupted herself with a loud moan.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Come for me, my dear.”

“Aryon!” she threw her head back and cried out, her orgasm flashing through her like a bolt of lightning. She trembled beneath him, her pussy clenching around his cock.

He buried his face in her neck. “I love you,” he groaned as he came.

She was so surprised, she barely felt his hot cum trickle out of her sore pussy when he pulled out. He kissed her neck before pulling away, his grey cheeks more flushed than she’d ever seen. He looked away. “I apologise for getting ahead of myself.”

She shook her head and pulled him into a gentle kiss. “I love you too.”

Aryon’s eyes widened in surprise. “Truly?” he placed his arms on both sides of her head and looked down at her with undisguised longing.

“I do,” she smiled. “You’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met.”

He let out a relieved laugh and kissed her.

[ardyns-corner]

Songs of Skyrim [Ralof x Half Elf!Bard!Reader]

The civil war has ended, with the imperials emerging victorious. They give the remaining Stormcloak soldiers the choice to vow to never raise their swords to them again and they will be pardoned. Ralof takes that deal but regrets it greatly. He moves to Windhelm because he cannot bear the disappointment of facing his family because he felt cowardly, and he grows cold and pessimistic. A year later, a new, beautiful Half-Wood Elf bard moves to Windhelm from the Bards College in Solitude and changes his life.

This is chapter 1. If you wish to keep track of this series, visit my AO3. Chapter 2 is already posted.

It's been a year since the war ended.

A year since Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak was murdered by the imperials.

A year since the imperials decided to show their “love” for skyrim by pardoning former stormcloak soldiers as long as they vowed not to raise their sword against the Empire.

But Ralof knew it was so they could have more abled bodies to draft should the Thalmor raise their swords against them.

Nonetheless, he hated the fact that he took the vow. He hated how cowardly he felt at that moment. So much so that he couldn’t bear to see his family in Riverwood. He couldn’t face the hypothetical disappointment that came with his family rooting for him and the Stormcloaks losing. Despite knowing that Gerdur would hate him should he have decided to get executed instead of just taking the deal. He just had to give his family something to be proud of.

He now had a house in Windhelm. He wanted to help Brunwulf Free-Winter rebuild and reform Windhelm. While Jarl Ulfric had a special place in his heart, he understood that despite being a good leader of the army, he often ignored his city crumbling beneath him. Though even remotely thinking of Ulfric negatively made a small pang of guilt hit his heart at his dead King. Ulfric had a lot of flaws, however. He was never a fan of how he treated non-nords. Or about how he let the murder of the women in his city go on for so long that a stranger had to come and fix it. Or about all the abandoned or crumbling buildings and walls from the Oldest city in skyrim that he decided to go years without beginning renovation. So why not, in his honor, help rebuild his city that he left to his people?

The tavern was buzzing, though gloom still lingered in the air. It was like news of the late Jarl’s demise had just spread through the city. The dark elf bard, Luaffn, is strumming her fingers across her lute, singing Ragnar the Red. A jovial song about an idiotic story. Ragnar was a loose lipped drunkard and Matilde was a murderous hot head. Ralof started to realize a theme in all of these stories. They are all about flashy, symbolic, victories, from situations that were most likely a lot more boring. Always telling about the glories and fortunes of war. Hiding the hideous truths of it all. Drafting innocent boys and girls into these things and traumatizing them so that they waste their lives giving into skooma or drinking just so they can forget all that they have seen. It was disgusting. Though, then again, Ralof may have become more cynical, pessimistic and cold with each passing day since the war ended. But that doesn’t get rid of the truths in it.

The singing ended with scattered applause. Ralof took a sip of the Honningbrew mead that the Tavern Wench had poured into his tankard and took a bite of the stale bread and cringed. Everyone in the room seemed preoccupied with something, whether it being reading, talking to friends, or somberly looking into their tankards and blanking out. Despite the city being in a state of reform and new beginnings, it was like the soul had been sucked out of it. The war distracted the citizens here from the crushing realities that came with living in Windhelm and now that it was over, with their jarl not emerging the victor, people had to come to terms with said reality. Nils, the tavern cook, was replacing the logs in the fireplace and feeding the fire. Ralof walked over towards him, from his table. “Nils. Do you have any fresh bread?” He questioned the old man.

“None currently made,” Nils shrugged and continued feeding the fire.

“Well could you make some, please?” Ralof raised an eyebrow.

“Absolutely, just give me a day and a half,” Nils responded sarcastically while standing back up.

“A day and a half?”

“Yes, boy. Bread takes more than a day to make.” Nils chuckled. “Though I will say I’m not surprised. You war heroes hardly recognize the honor that comes with keeping you all fed,” Ralof flinched at the mention of being called a war hero.

“Hi, are you Nils?” A soft voice spoke from behind Ralof. He turned to see a shorter, beautiful woman with long hair put into an updo. She wore fine clothing that seemed to be from a different province, though the furs inside of it indicate it was made in or for Skyrim. She wore jewelry that complimented her eyes and a jeweled hairpin that held a most likely stubborn piece of hair. She looked rather racially ambiguous, but her ears and sharper features made it known that she was an elf. Ralof never really had a preference for elven women, but even he could admit that she had a look to her that none of the women in Windhelm did. She was holding a painted lute with dragon designs carved into them.

Nils took her hand and shook it, “I am. You must be (y/n).” The elf smiled which made Ralof’s stomach turn a bit. Luaffn came up to the group.

“Ah you must be my replacement for tonight,” She smiled, “I hope you’re as good as they say you are. It's a tough crowd here in Windhelm.” She said before walking away

(Y/n) nodded and strolled to the front of the tavern common area. Ralof looked from her to Nils, who had a smug look on his face. “Who in oblivion is that?” Ralof asked.

“Our new bard. We can't keep only one bard here, especially with the increase in tourism after the war. Elda made me get a new one from the College in Solitude.” Nils explained, “They say that she’s one of the best lute players they have. Apparently can sing too. Though I’m not quite sure their policy on customers falling in love with said bards,” Nils smirked. “She is quite a beauty for an elf,” Ralof rolled his eyes and returned to his seat. The new bard sat on a tall stool and positioned her lute into a playing position.

The tavern was still very loud and didn’t seem to notice the elven woman at the front, aside from a few bigoted glances.

“Hello, people of Windhelm,” She addressed loudly. The Tavern went silent and stared at her, “My name is (Y/n), I am but a new bard at this beautiful hall. But I am also a harbinger of the ancient stories told by tongue.” She started to play a tune on her lute, as she began, “We live in a time of sorrow, but this is not the first time. For the Nord heroes that came before us knew such sorrow,” The tavern seemed to be very interested now. An intro before a song? Is this the type of music they play in Solitude? She sure knows her way around a crowd. Ralof regarded in his head. “Allow me to tell you all a trying tale of the Ancient Blades, who freed both man and mer alike from the tyranny of the dragons that had enslaved and preyed on us all.”

Then she began singing.

The story she told was that of the Ancient Tongues who shouted the World Eater out of the sky with the power of their combined Thu’um. This song was very obviously a Nordic song. Which was fitting, as Windhelm was one of the first established Atmoran cities. But, it had a different feel to it. It reminded Ralof of the stories their mother used to tell him and Gerdur as children. When she would tell them about how men truly suffered under the dragon regime. They didn’t charge into the battle and instantly crushed them with Nord might. They struggled. And through that struggling, was when man and mer found the will to come together and fight a common enemy. And with their combined determination, they won. These stories were realistic. Relatable. They didn’t have tons of showy symbolism and unneeded tales of overpowered brava that’s sole purpose is to instill a false sense of honor into youth. They were honest.

Ralof could hear Roliff and his goons at the table next to him, making snide, racist comments about the elven bard that went from plain ignorance to downright disgusting threats. He shot a glare at them, that he knew would pass right over them, but he couldn’t help it. Threats like that against any woman, elf or not, were disgusting. He swore some of the men in this city had no honor or even manners. And he was born into a millworker’s family. He moved closer towards the front, tankard in hand, to better hear the bard.

She continued her tune, while eyeing the crowd with mystery as she told the tale. Everyone was engaged in one way or another. Either leaning in their seats to listen to this new bard, or acting as if they didn’t enjoy her singing.

“If Alduin is eternal, then eternity’s done. For his story is over and the dragons...” The bard took a long pause. The entire tavern was silent. She then strummed her lute one last time.

“...are gone.”

The tavern stayed still for a bit, then erupted with applause. The bard stood up and took a small bow, before returning to the stool.

“Newer” songs in Skyrim usually take a while to travel throughout the snowy province. Windhelm was to the very east, so it was most likely the tavern’s first time hearing that tune.

Luaffn came back up to the front, this time with a drum. (Y/n) regarded her then nodded. She started to play a jovial, familiar tune on her lute, which the dark elf bard followed with an upbeat rhythm on the drum. The crowd looked around at each other and then got up. One by one, people started dancing and drunkenly grabbing partners.

The tavern seemed a lot livelier than before. Nils was right, she was a damned good lute player. Luaffn paused her drum playing, which led the other elven bard to go on a complicated, fast, solo on her lute. Her passive facial expression moved into a much more entertaining one. She had a bright smile on her face, as she finished the solo, without breaking a sweat. Luaffn, for once, looked like she had fun while performing, as she picked up the beat again with (Y/n)’s finished solo. People cheered at the music, then continued dancing. As the two elves finished the song, the tavern burst into cheers. The tavern was usually packed to the brim every night with both Windhelm’s non-mer citizens and tourists, but you could barely tell how stale the air was. There were cheerful spirits in the air, and now you could fully tell how many people were truly there. Ralof has his negative opinions of Solitude, but if this is how bards over there perform, he would take the occasional vacation there more often. There’s nothing like good music and stories to lift an apathetic heart.

The two bards started another tune, but Ralof didn’t stay. He went downstairs to the bar to order actual food. As he sat on the barstool, he could still hear the stomping and cheers, with very little instrumentals leaking through the commotion. Elda poured Ralof an Ale as he dropped a few septims on the counter.

“Full house tonight, huh?” Ralof observed the change in atmosphere.

“It's always a full house.” Elda leaned against the bar while looking up at the ceiling, “I will say, I never can trust an elf. But Nils sure does know how to pick a good bard,” Ralof took a sip of the ale, before taking a deep breath in.

“The woman looks like she comes from good pockets. How were you all even able to afford such a bard?”

“All of them solitude bards look like they dove face-first into nobility. S’why so many of them are so entitled.” Elda stirred the soup behind her, “You’d have to ask Nils on that one, Ralof.” She took a sip of the soup in the pot before turning back to Ralof. “Want some potato soup?” Ralof nodded and handed Elda more septims, “Nils left me with no choice but to finish this damn soup. But I guess someone has to chop the firewood, and it sure isn’t gonna be me,” She placed a wooden bowl of potato soup in front of him, “Careful now, its hot,”

After a few minutes, the song ended, which led to another eruption of applause. Someone began walking down the stairs from the upper common area. “Thank you madam for this opportunity to perform for such a lovely crowd,” (Y/n) spoke very clearly.

“Heading home so soon?” Elda regarded her sarcastically.

Ralof turned to face her, “I don’t blame you. It takes the right tune to make a tavern full of Nords lively, and if you don’t stop early, you’ll be there until dawn,” She smiled warmly at him, which made his face warm up. She waved goodbye to the innkeeper and the veteran and left.

“Told you. All of them. Plain entitlement,” Elda crossed her arms.

“Come on, Elda. She just called a tavern full of Windhelm citizens' a lovely crowd’. She doesn’t have a single bone of entitlement in her,” Ralof chuckled.

“The elf only performed three songs. It’s not even Midnight yet!”

“Probably because she spent all day traveling to Windhelm from solitude. I would be ran through a long time ago.” Ralof took another sip of his ale. Behind him, Roliff and his friends came stumbling down the stairs. They had wicked smiles on their faces and were walking rather fast towards the exit. This left a bad feeling in his stomach. They swiftly exited the inn. Elda didn’t seem to notice. But he was a soldier. Finding someone with bad intentions was one of his most useful skills.

“Hey...uh… Elda” Ralof called to the old innkeeper without removing his eyes from the door, swinging close.

Elda turned to him, “What?”

“Do you know where that bard might be staying?”

“Probably at that dark elf ‘cornerclub’. '' She said the last word mockingly, “I’m glad she took the hint her kind wasn’t welcome here- where in oblivion are you going?” Ralof dashed out of the door of Candlehearth Hall, and jogged towards the southern entrance to the Grey Quarter."

===============================================

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[victorianasshole]

A whole mudcrab's worth of meat (Vivec x Masc!reader) Chapter 1/?

Heyy this is my first time sharing my writing on here, so be nice. This was very self indulgent, but if you guys like it, there'll porbably be more!!

Includes: 1st person reader, OC character(s), Ohmes Raht reader, masc!reader, Vivec, other canon characters, canon environment

CW: Murder, cursing, violence, fantasy bigotry?? Lmk if more needs to be added.

Word count: 2804

...

A whole mudcrab's worth of meat. Gone, just like that. I cursed under my breath as I looked up from the shrubbery at whoever was obnoxious enough to scare my lunch away. An Elseweyr mercenary… And here I thought I'd be left alone, so far east. The feline man crouched by the bank of the water, filling his water skin. Seeming pretty pissed off himself. Perhaps he was looking for someone?

Despite my gut feeling of simply turning away, I stood up, hailing the fellow. 

We soon ended up making a campfire, finding it easier to camp together for the night. Of course only after we both understood no harm would come to the other. As a performance of trust, we shared our names and secrets as well, as the moons peaked over the horizon. 

M'aiko was his name. A grumpy and quiet Cathay, but not without a small humour in his eye. As he dusted his rations with moonsugar, he began to speak freely for the first time that night. 

“M'aiko is looking for some cultist Ashlander. As it turns out this is a regular occurrence. However, this particular cultist has avoided proving his validity long enough for it to be a bother.” 

I nodded at his words, pondering the fire as it heated the hound meat I bought some days ago in Molag Mar. 

“I hear it's about some rebirth prophecy. Some king that died long ago… But wait, if you're doing this job, wouldn't your employer be-?”

M'aiko grinned, seeming a bit self-satisfied. “This one has no idea how I've come to such luck, but Lord Vivec himself sent me. Well... Through a mouthpiece.”

“How do you know you're not being set up for a simple assassination?”

“They paid beforehand. And only the houses would grace anyone with as heavy a pouch as what I got.”

I hummed... It seemed a bit too good to be true. But I didn't have the heart to say it. Though, it WAS pretty believable. As the khajiit would show me, he had the official tribunal seal on him and everything. I looked back at his pouch… 

“Say… You still owe this one for that mudcrab I was to eat tonight. Why don't you pay me back by letting me come along?”

M’aiko didn’t seem too pleased by the idea of having me with. Understandable. I was but a simple hunter. But I did so want to come with. He simply raised a brow and handed me some of his moonsugar as the meat I had on the fire seemed finished. “What could a hunter offer a mercenary?”“Restoration magic, Illusion magic… Lock picking and a good arrow.” I listed, sprinkling a healthy amount of the glittery spice on the meat. It had been quite some time since I had felt the good and warm buzz of my home’s number one trade. “And this one could only imagine you long for another cat to speak to. These dumner are not the best company…” 

I got him to laugh at that. I curled my tail in delight, knowing I had now won him over. 

…

My boot came down heavy on the last embers of the fire the next morning. We had agreed to wake early, to be done with the job as soon as possible. I wasn't too eager to kill anyone, but it was not like I hadn't done so before. The roads were treacherous. It was necessary to kill these days. This time, however, it was to be a little different. Thankfully, M'aiko and I had already planned that I was to be his shadow, and less so in the middle of the conflict. If he needed healing, he was to get healing. If he needed his back covered, he was to be aided by my arrow. That was something I could get behind.

I followed M'aiko's steps through the tiny islands on the edge of the coast. We agreed that the roads were too risky to be caught in. The roads had yet to become more guarded in the wake of the recent uptick in crime this year, but we were primarily worried about being seen by commoners. M’aiko had promised confidentiality. So hiding in nature seemed like our best bet.

The round volcanic pebbles rustled by the shoreline, making odd clicking sounds as they grinded together. I picked one up and put it in my pocket as we walked. The trip wouldn’t take so long, he assured. Halfway to Sadrith Mora. So I was content enough to just walk along. Passing small ruins of Dwemer, egg mines, and other small locations of note… I enjoyed the change of scenery. M’aiko was quick, however, so we never stayed in one place for long. Only when we rested. He even carried me when the water was too high for me to safely swim from island to island with my gear, simply because he didn’t have the time to go around. We used the night for travelling as well. But not before long…

“You see the tents over the creeks, yes?”

I hummed in the affirmative, having already subconsciously lowered my body a little. 

“We are to target Dralas. He is a loud type, easy to spot. Preferably no one will see us by the time it is over.”

“I'll head up behind the cliffside then. From there, my arrow and spells will be within range of the camp.” 

I suggested, and M'aiko silently nodded in agreement to the plan. I took that as my cue to quietly disappear up the hill to take purchase by a larger rock, for cover. Once I was situated and hidden, I took my dagger and let the sun fall upon it, guiding the reflected light upon M'aiko to tell him I was ready.

And so he went.

He was quick. I couldn't look away for a moment, lest he simply disappear from my eyes. Not a soul in the camp realised as he sneaked from tent to tent, many of the nomads having yet to properly wake up yet. Then Dralas stepped out from the wise women's tent. And things were quick to get more complicated. 

As Dralas stepped outside, he called the camp close to surround him, to make some kind of announcement. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could easily understand that all this attention on our target was a stick in the wheel for M'aiko's plan. I tried to think, quickly. M'aiko looked up at me in frustrated uncertainty… I took out one of my arrows and brushed my hand against the stick. Concentrating on it… And just then, I was no longer holding an arrow. I put the weight I felt in my hand against the arrow rest on my bow, breathed in as I pulled the string back… And then Dralas clutched his chest. Blood spread quickly under his sandy cape. The arrow revealed itself as my concentration faltered. And Dralas fell to the ground.

The outrage was immediate, and the armed Ashlanders were soon out to search the surrounding area for me. M'aiko took the opposite direction, and I spent my remaining magic to become unseen as I followed him away from the crime scene…

“...Did I get him properly? I couldn't see if he died from where I sat.” 

I spoke up quietly, dropping the invisibility when I knew we were both hidden well enough. We could still hear the yells from the camp.

“Oh, you got him alright.”

M’aiko's voice was heaving, and I was for a moment afraid that he had gotten hurt in the chaos of getting away. But he held up a hand to signal he was fine.

“...You're coming back to Vivec with this one. I think this calls for you to get the other half of the payment.”

…

I had never been to Vivec City before. I had imagined it to be big, but this was beyond my expectations. The newly finished Foreign Quarter greeted us, and M’aiko looked down at me with a humoured expression. I barely noticed, my eyes glued to the giant rock floating over the tops of the cantons. I knew I was small, but this made me feel ever so smaller… 

“Never been here, I assume?”

I shook my head quietly and fixed on the straps of my old rucksack a bit. Maybe I looked too uncomfortable. Holding onto my dignity, I took the first step over the bridge to the city, knowing M’aiko would follow to not lose me in the crowd.

We had travelled together for a little under a week now, through the east side. Become what I would probably call friends. We never really spoke when on the move, but we shared plenty of stories and laughs over the fire. The night before we arrived at Vivec, I had taken out the Skyrim mead I had been keeping for the right occasion. The wooden cups dyed lightly purple from the blackberry spirits. M’aiko nodded a thank you. He was quiet tonight. “The Temple Canton is open to the public. When we get there, we’ll likely speak with Vivec about your payment.”

I choked on the mead. “What, THE Vivec??”

M’aiko nodded, giving a cheeky smile I had come to recognize as teasing. But it seemed a bit forced. I understood it fine enough. Two Khajiiti mercenaries are not exactly ‘meant’ to interact with the Dumner gods. And the thought of even setting foot in the home of one of them was nerve-wracking… We drank from our cups in silent synchronicity. After a moment of quiet, I decided to ask what I was sure we were both uncertain about.

“Well, what do you plan on saying to him?”

The stairs up to the temple looked like a whole day’s worth of fitness. This god must think they’re quite high and mighty… I tried my best not to roll my eyes at having to exhaust myself, as we approached the temple doors. Or palace doors. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to call this gold-plated erection... M’aiko patted my back as we reached the final steps, heaving just as much as myself by the end. The guards standing watch by the entrance somehow emanated the energy of a side eye to the both of us through their helms, looking on as we caught our breath a bit. But they didn’t block the entrance, thankfully. 

I looked at M’aiko. M’aiko looked at me, reflecting my expression perfectly. He looked like he was about to shit himself. 

“On three?”

“No, that’s stupid.” He countered, opening the temple gate with a push before I could quip back. I sucked in a small breath, getting my heart stuck in my throat. I was not ready. Neither was he, but the bastard didn’t show it like I undoubtedly was. 

I had no choice but to follow his tail, however, making an active effort not to make myself too visible. Or visible at all. Anything to make M’aiko be the one talking.

The greeting hall felt bigger than it looked from the outside. Murals complimented the round loft of the chamber, gold lines shimmering echoes of the stories they told. Of Vivec, and his deeds to the lands of Vvardenfell. Of his accomplishments, and their power. I looked down at the floor. It seemed rude to stare. A small pat on my back from M’aiko made me buckle down on one knee, my eyes still fixed on the tiled floor. I felt rickety and confused. And then I felt warmth fall on my forehead and shin. A bright light casting shadows in the cracks of the ceramic stone. I made damn sure to keep my head down.

“Lord Vivec. This one comes to announce the downfall of Dralas of the Erabenimsun Tribe.” He sounded so formal.

“I thank you for this news. Who is your companion?”

My throat bobbed. I didn’t know if I should talk. Or look up. But M’aiko thankfully set forth my name before I had to do it. 

“He was the one who dealt the final blow. That is why we went to you directly, so you can judge the payment for his contribution.”

“I see.”

…I had to look up now.

When we locked eyes, he surprisingly didn’t seem all that imposing. More curious and gentle than anything. He was still hard to look at, with practically shining skin and a presence that nearly filled the entire room. It was hard to hold a common-folk bias towards what I was looking at. Even when I was kneeling on a floor that probably cost more to make than what I would have been sold for. 

I made an awkward croak. He smiled. I looked back down. “I have made up my mind. I propose you get equal payment to compliment your companion’s pouch. Furthermore, I will sign you a permit to purchase housing here in Vivec, for your initiative to help the temple. And lastly…”I could see the god’s feet touch the ground, not a sound emanating from him at all. It made me wonder if I was imagining things. I couldn’t hear him like I heard most other living things. I couldn’t find a breath. A heartbeat. Except for my own galloping organ.

“I thank you. Should you ever need work again, you will always be welcome in the temple for it. I will make sure there is always a position you may take.”

I tried making a sound, pressing out what could be interpreted as a “thank you”. It didn’t go too well, so I tried adding some kind of head-bowing to it. M’aiko thanked them as well, following my lead with a bow. This was scary and embarrassing and humiliating and I needed to leave. M’aiko was already getting up and leaving. But as I went to stand myself, to back away timidly, I was robbed of that opportunity to flee, to get away from the probably already sore eyes of the God-King. However, they were the one stopping me, calling my name. “You are but a simple hunter, yes?”

I looked back instinctively, but quickly changed my mind and averted my gaze again when I actually met them with my eyes. “Uh… Yeah- Yes. I’ve just been living off the land. For about eight months now.”

It took real strength to not use khajiiti formalities with him. I had come to know how dumner people sometimes react to such things, so I tried my best to use their tongue. But if this had been the Mane… I remembered giving my hair when I went away. It was much like this. Scary, humbling and breathtaking. Speaking to overpowering devines was never really my cup of tea. But back then, before all of it, when I had given my hair. It felt easier. Maybe that was simply just because it was kin. Or because I had an innocence to hide behind.

“You must excuse my curiosity. But I fail to see how a common hunter like yourself would need to know illusion magic to such a high degree.”

M’aiko hadn’t said how I killed Dralas, did he? He didn’t. I looked up at Vivec, my confusion louder than my awe for just a moment. They simply smiled encouragingly for an answer. “Uhm… I, well..” Would I get captured if I just run now? Was I allowed to tell him? I should act less apprehended.

“.... Back in Elsweyr, I once spent my days making some coin in higher circles, lending out my services to nobles who wanted an extra hand in networking. It was… Appreciated, when one’s opponents heard false rumours. Saw the wrong hand at the gambling table. Things like that. After some complications with those very opponents, it was best for me to leave and live off the grid for a while.”

Vivec hummed along to my words, giving a small nod. Did I just out myself for a fraud? Or a criminal? I did, I didn’t mean to say so much. It was as if their gaze pulled the words out of my mouth with string. My mind raced to try and read the god’s reaction. Was such activity illegal here? I hadn’t done it since I left, but… 

“A social networker, then. I won’t pry into why you’ve ended up here in Vvardenfell, of all places. However…”

I had to look down again when he came closer. They were scrutinizing me, I knew as much. But I also knew why, now. I was useful. I could feel it in their demeanour, I had proved myself useful. More handy than a sword for hire, at least…

“... Hm. I look forward to our next meeting, friend.”

I bowed my head.

[dumbfuck-mojave]

Commissions

Howdy everybody, I’m opening commissions.

Right now, I’ll be writing for the Elder Scrolls universe. So if anyone is interested, here’s the info:

 My rate is one dollar per one hundred words. I’m open to all style types of writing, we can talk about it if you decide you want to commission me. 

I’m most familiar with Oblivion and Skyrim, but I’m willing to write for all games. 

Examples of all the writing I’ve posted since I started this blog are linked in the two masterlinks in my bio. The rules of what I will and won’t write are listed in my pinned post. If you are unsure, ask. 

I will start writing in June, as I am currently finishing up junior year of highschool and want to focus on that.

Payment will be through donations on Kofi. 

Thank you for reading and considering <3 

[dxwnfxll]

Info about it: it's gonna be angsty, Readers gender is up to you as i'm most likely going to keep these gender neutral (unless someone requests of course) race will also be up to reader

[ancanosaur]

🐾Farkas and Vilkas headcannons🐾

I love the twins and i think theres alot to them. I like the stark difference in their personalities and i think they have quite the story to tell about more than a few adventures. I was going to make two separate posts about each of them, but i decided to jumble them together. They are twins after all.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Farkas has alwayd been the one to keep his hair long as a child if you tried to cut it he'd promptly run away or put up a fight while vilkas would sit perfectly still and alway his hair to be cut, watching his brother put up a fight on the other side of the room.

Vilkas gets pretty offended when people misinterpret Farkas' simplicity for stupidity. He knows his brother isnt the best with words and would rather have a fist fight than an argument. But farkas is more of "practical smarts" as he would put it. He's actually a good problem solver. Vilkas is good with words, bit his brother will sit and observe quietly. Sure everyone may poke fun at Farkas and even Vilkas does from time to time, But Vilkas knows better than anyone of his brother's intelligence, and i wouldnt argue with him about it.

The boys very much look like their father, dark hair, square jaws and broad shoulders. But thier father had deep brown eyes. The twins have their mother's eyes, bright sky blue, in the sun light they look silver.

Farkas is actually quite good at making drinks. Thats why theres a bar in his room.

The reason they both use two handed weapons is becuase when they were juat pups and each given a dagger to train, the dull steel daggers were heavy and the handle too big for thier hands so they both used both of thier hands to hold it, it just kind of stuck and when they were old enough to have a bigger blade they both felt the most comfortable with a two handed blade.

They really are as close as twins can be, they've done everything togeather from day one, even becoming werewolves together. When Vilkas got cured Farkas felt like the only choice he had was to follow, both from wanting to be free of the curse himself and if he were to die before his brother they would never meet in sovngarde and that worried him deeply.

When thier mother was pregnant and they didnt know there was two of them, her and their father would argue over what they were going to name thier child. She wanted Vilkas, he wanted Farkas. But of course when the time came and there were two of them, it all worked out.

No matter how old these two get they still have that brotherly competition. Arm wrestling, trying to turn in each of thier missions first, it's all in good fun and keep them on thier toes. Just dont let them have a drinking competition, shit will go down.

They both have one thing in common when it comes to love interests. They very much like someone who can take care of themselves. Someone who can lift a sword and strike down their enemy with a fatal blow. Now thats how you can catch their eye.

Sure farkas comes off as more of a brute than his brother but they're both big cuddly warm nords at the end of the day, Vilkas is the best at showing it, yes. But Farkas warms up after a bit.

Both are just big warmhearted warriors that are good to have a drink with around the fire.

-Onyx♤

[theheraldofthedark]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Vivec/Reader, Nerevarine/Vivec, Vivec/You, Indoril Almalexia/Vivec, Molag Bal/Vivec, Indoril Almalexia/Indoril Neverar, Indoril Nerevar & Vivec Characters: Vivec (Elder Scrolls), Reader, You, Indoril Almalexia, Sotha Sil, Original Dunmer Character(s), Original Characters, Molag Bal Additional Tags: Comedy, Romance, Drama, Drama & Romance, Fantasy, Mystery, Canonical Character Death, Stream of Consciousness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Jealousy, Poor Life Choices, soliciting, Shady - Freeform, soliciting sex, Scheming, Porn With Plot, Getting to Know Each Other, Slow Burn, Angst and Porn, Friendship, Tribunal - Freeform, Morrowind, Vvardenfell, Mournhold, Reader-Insert, Unrequited Love, Confusion, Poetic, I'm trying Summary:

After having defeated Dagoth Ur you find yourself with more questions than answers. Where did the heart go? What really happened at Red Mountain? And did Azura really bless you or were the fumes from Red Mountain just screwing with your head? You're not sure, but you're starving for answers, food, and hopefully a year off from doing anything ever again. Just your luck though, you're not getting that. Instead you're getting a meeting with Vivec, many opportunities to see just how much people don't give a shit about you, and a series of ever stupefying conundrums and circumstances that honestly you're too tired to deal with.

And also some sex.

That too.

 You hate this stupid island.

New chapter up! We get to meet the lovely reader, and a hapless palace servant.

Actually it’s been up for a while I’ve just been swamped with coursework. That being said I’m probably going to get a bit of time before I start writing again creatively, as I’ve got a big old project due. That, and I need to work on the plot outline because some new ideas came up and made the old one not as workable. I’m pretty bad at doing a chaptered work so far but maybe I’ll be better some sunny day.