#oblivion fanfiction

[nine-blessed-hero]

Just had an immensely funny thought RE Kicks trying to pawn off the amulet - he dismantles it. The chain, goldwork, and little emeralds, sapphires &ct all get pawned off incrementally. By the time he finally gets to talk to Jauffre it's nothing but the Red Diamond which Won't Leave.

Jauffre: Alright, leave the amulet with me so it's safe. Kicks: The what? Jauffre: The Emperor's necklace...? Kicks: ... Kicks: Okay but you've gotta be cool. Jauffre: ??? What did you do? *Kicks gives over the diamond* Jauffre *consternated*: What the fuck did you do to it?!

[hannah-heartstrings]

It's WIP Wednesday Once Again

Tagged by @inkysqueed and @thequeenofthewinter, who I tag back! :D Along with @babyblueetbaemonster @druidx @katastronoot @the-sunlit-earth and anyone who wants to be.

When I posted the year old snow prompt snippet two weeks ago, I said that I originally thought it needed an intro.

I did write one I just never figured out how to get them from point A to point B (just to decide I didn't need to a year later XD) But while looking at the intro again, ideas for how to edit it popped in my head, and the next thing I knew, I had a new ficlet. (Oh writing XD)

So here's the original intro I'm now reworking, and then some notes about my edits below the cut:

            The sky was a white sheet of fog, purple tiled spires standing out against it. Flecks of snow drifted down into the streets.             A gust of wind sent some flecks swirling and blowing down the street across Lecrinn’s face. She laughed a little as she brushed the snow from her brown skin and hair. As she walked, she looked over the snow shimmering in the sunlight. “The snow’s so pretty I almost forget I hate to be cold,” she leaned more into Garrus’s arm.             “Do you want to go in?”             “Not yet.”

I like "snow shimmering in the sunlight" but to me it evokes the image of an empty field of snow, which isn't where they are. XD I think I should describe the town a little more. I remember thinking that when I wrote it, but at the time, writing felt like mental gymnastics, which is why I never finished this. XD

I feel like the back to back sentences about the flecks of snow should be the same paragraph.

I don't know how I only just now noticed that if the sky's that foggy, it isn't sunny. 😅 Gotta go add that to my edits now. XD

While rereading it, I don't know why, but I thought Garrus's dialogue at the end should be "we're almost there" instead, which led me to wonder what "there" was, and the ficlet just went from there. XD

And if it's one or the other, I think the sparkling snow fits the scene better than the sheet of fog.

Which means the fic is getting further and further from actually looking like this snippet. XD

And I can't wait to show it to you guys. It's small but pure sugar, like a Christmas cookie. XD

Now I just gotta finish baking it. 😅

[unironicallytes]

Ch05 of Dear Brother is up!

In this chapter, our protag and Mathieu have a rocky conversation, we witness a Brotherhood baptism, and Antoinetta makes good on her foreshadowing.

[umbracirrus]

Umbracirrus Writing Masterlist

Originally, some of my writing masterlist was contained within my pinned post, though it hadn't been updated since April, and the post in question felt horribly long. So, I decided to make this list separate to my pinned post and to have it link to this instead.

It is split into multi-chapter fanfictions and oneshots, with the oneshots all at the bottom. It only includes things which I have posted at least one chapter of (or posted all of, in the case of oneshots)! And I happen to have.... Well, a lot of other things in progress not even mentioned here.

Masterlist last updated: 27th October 2024

Multi-Chapter fics

The Perfect Storm (On AO3) - In Progress

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater/Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC); background Irileth/Hrongar

Rated E on AO3

Slow burn, Romance, Skyrim's chaotic politics, Skyrim Civil War, eventual sexual content

Summary:

“What do you think will burn better? Another ballad of Mikael’s about Whiterun’s ‘assets’, or yet another letter from Ulfric Stormcloak asking for me to join him?" When the Dragonborn is facing pressure to choose a side in the brewing war, she sticks with the side which holds a special place in her heart. She picks Whiterun.

Seeking the Sun (On AO3) - In Progress, precursor to The Perfect Storm

Skyrim fanfiction

Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC)

Rated M on AO3

Adventure, Angst, Skyrim main quest, minor canon divergence

She was free to go wherever she wished, drift around and allow her whims to guide her feet. But she had a plan… and that plan was Skyrim. Yes, it was a land full of strife, but it was still a place of great significance to her. It was her mother's homeland. When Elyse finds her life in Cyrodiil too painful to bare, she makes the decision to travel north, to Skyrim - unaware that she was Dragonborn, and that her decision would soon determine not just her own fate, but the fate of Skyrim... and potentially that of the world itself.

Tenacity (On Tumblr) - In Progress, prequel to both Seeking the Sun and The Perfect Storm

Skyrim fanfiction (based in 4E 172/173 - approximately 28/29 years pre-game)

Edwyn Verne (OC)/Ingja Frosthand (OC)

Chapters - {1} (currently only posted on Tumblr, not AO3)

Enemies to lovers, Forbidden romance, tragedy with a happy ending

"Stay away from those mages and their college. They are nothing but bad news." That message had been instilled in Ingja since she was but a child. So after a chance encounter leads to her getting to know Edwyn, an aspirational student of conjuration in the College, she realises that perhaps... mages simply aren't as bad as their reputation would say.

Tempest (on AO3) - In Progress

Skyrim fanfiction (based in the same version of Skyrim as The Perfect Storm, but is a standalone fic)

Thorne (OC)/Vilkas, past Thorne/Brynjolf

Rated M on AO3

Enemies to lovers, Found family, Secrets, Mental health issues, Companions questline, past Thieves Guild questline

The Thieves Guild were like the family which Thorne never had, though she never felt as though she truly fit in, even after reaching position of guildmaster. After a heart-to-heart with Brynjolf, she finds herself planning to amicably part ways with the guild and find somewhere that she could belong. Somewhere that she could feel happy. That somewhere ends up being Jorrvaskr much to the chagrin of Vilkas, who feels that she is hiding more than she is letting on.

With light comes shadow (On AO3) - In Progress

Oblivion fanfiction (featuring two heroes of Kvatch)

Martin Septim/Hero of Kvatch (Florian Livius - OC); uncertain if my other HoK, Drissa Arys (OC), will have a relationship established or not.

Rated M on AO3

Character Redemption/Condemnation, Oblivion Main Quest, Oblivion Dark Brotherhood, canon character death, Found family

At a pivotal time for the Empire, in the wake of the Emperor’s death, two so-called heroes emerge from the ashes of Kvatch - an incompetent thief and a disgraced arena fighter. One takes the chance at redemption. The other seeks their own ruin.

Oneshots

A Moment in the Sunset (On here and AO3)

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater (Elyse Verne - OC)

Rated M on AO3

As the sun sets across Skyrim, the Dragonborn and Jarl of Whiterun spend a peaceful few moments on the porch of Dragonsreach.

"Do you surrender?" (On AO3)

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater/Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC)

Rated E on AO3 (sexual content)

When business in Whiterun grows far too tedious for Balgruuf's liking, he takes a break to find his wife in order let off some steam. What starts out as a sparring session with Elyse on the Dragonsreach porch takes a heated turn.

Kiss (On here)

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater/Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC)

To be part of a bigger oneshot in the future (or maybe added in to The Perfect Storm eventually :3)

Elyse and Balgruuf sneak out of Dragonsreach for a night in the Bannered Mare without telling anyone, not even their housecarls, and end up sharing a dessert. A very messy dessert.

Purity (On here and AO3)

Skyrim fanfiction

Vilkas/Dragonborn (Thea - OC)

Rated T on AO3

An odd, prickly feeling went down Vilkas' spine as he watched Thea navigate towards a wall, which upon further inspection, looked to have an indent about the size of a door. The sensation made him shiver, and he had to stretch his fingers with anticipation. Sweat was also pouring down the back of his neck, a looming sense of… not quite terror, but more along the lines that something was going to go awfully wrong if he were to go any further.

Starlit (On here)

Skyrim fanfiction

Miraak

Miraak looks up at the night sky after his long-awaited freedom from Apocrypha.

[unironicallycringe]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

OH NO!! BADGER, I HAVENT WRITTEN FIVE FICS, WHICH IS EXTREMELY FUNNY TO ME--

Ok ok I am a slowly lumbering giant who only writes longfics and takes enormous hibernation hiatuses

BUT I will simply reply with those two and talk about some fav chapters

The Mask-Maker & Dear Brother

Both of these are so so old in terms of original inception, but fairly young in that I "just" began posting.

For those of you who are new, TMM is a Legend of Zelda fic combining Skyward Sword and Majora's Mask to 1) explore what the Demon Tribes could actually be like and 2) put Ghirahim and Link into A Situation (Ghiralink). It is paused at 20 chapters and has a ways to go, likely divided into two parts. Meanwhile, DearB is an Elder Scrolls Oblivion Dark Brotherhood prequel about the Silencer before the player character arrives (Lucien/OC). It explores the inner workings of the Brotherhood itself from the viewpoint of one of their leaders. This one is shaping up to be around 24 chapters based on where my arc's trajectory is going.

My favorite chapter of TMM is "10: Employee of the Year" - I really liked writing the clumsy foundation of how and why their relationship forms, and I'm proud of how it came out. DearB is too young to have a solid fav chapter yet but right now it's "3: Hypnotic Shades of Violet" - exploring Zath's difficulty in understanding his own feelings within the framework of a cult has been really interesting to me.

I love them both very much and I'm really proud of the progress I've made in terms of plotting out a long story. It's been excellent practice and a great stress-relief hobby.

[inkoherentwriting]

WIP Wday

tagged by the astounding @thequeenofthewinter ! tagging from my follower list here: @hannahcbrown , @gwilin-stay-winnin , @druidx, @avantegarda , @archangelsammy (if you want to be tagged or not tagged in future wip wednesdays please let me know via a message or an inbox ask!)

Guilbert's leg was stretched out along the bedroll-- not that it mattered strongly. The muscles ached whether Guilbert left them stretched or if he pulled his leg back closer to the rest of his body. It was a matter of hurting or hurting slightly less.

"Agh... Thank you again for saving me." Guilbert was rubbing said injured leg lightly when he looked up. His savior, the leader of these bandits, had her back to him. He had to wonder if she was regretting her choice. Maybe wondering now whether to kill him or--

"Listen. Ya don't need to keep thankin' me." He almost didn't hear from how soft her voice was.

He sighed. "I feel as though I do?" This was the terrifying part. "Getting to know you as we did our.... work... I feel you do care about others and about doing what is right. You simply need someone to believe in the you that is deep down inside the tough and gruff bandit leader you want everyone to assume you are."

She did not answer him.

"That's just... it's something I observed." Guilbert felt his voice quickening slightly with panic. "I genuinely believe, deep down, that you're a kind person." He watched her fist clench and waited for the worst; he was going to get beaten and left for dead.

Guilbert winced, closing his eyes and bracing.

"You're kind. That's why ya see it in me." A sigh. "Look... relax your leg. Get some food an' rest tonight. And then get outta here tomorrow mornin' ya hear?"

"Huh?"

"You're not fit for bein' a bandit, Guilbert." It was the first time she'd called him by name. This and the realization he was being let go oddly left his throat as constricted as the bandit leader's now sounded. "You're too damn nice."

[katastronoot]

Friday Kiss Tag Game

Tagged by: @hannahcbrown thanks friend!

Tagging: @wispstalk @boethiahspillowbook @friend-of-giants and anyone else who wants to do it. This is so sweet

Rules: post a smooch between your OCs for Friday. It can be as light as a peck or as intense as a makeout. It can be romantic or platonic or familial. As long as a smooch takes place it’s free reign!

I thought about drawing something but I haven’t written anything for Baurus and Frieda yet. I planned on making it short and sweet but then 1200 words later here I am haha

••••••••

Strength.

She had always needed strength.

The moment she lost her parents and became orphaned on the streets of Anvil, she wished for strength. Pleaded for it. Prayed to the gods—the gods who were but just a whisper in the wind. They never really made their intentions clear. They weren’t listening to her prayers, couldn’t have been.

Because strength.

It never came to her when she needed it most.

Frieda’s gaze focused on the warm amber candle light flickering against the back wall of the washroom. It shifted the drab temple walls to those shades of warmer orangey hues complementing the deep red imperial banners that hung the walls. Her body was finally getting adjusted to the heat of the water that surrounded her, she could feel the stress of her endeavors begin to fade. With an exhale of breath she closed her eyes, trying to imagine that same flame from her candle. It took more self-control than she wanted to push away the visions of fiery hells that she journeyed through in the day prior. It was unavoidable.

Her waking hours were spent in the plane as well as her nights. She dreamt of that place.

Her own place. Her own piece.

Oblivion.

•••

He hadn’t seen her come back to the temple that night.

Martin was spending every waking hour studying the texts. He was on duty and was determined to never leave the emperor's side. He couldn’t let it happen again.

It was Jauffrey that gave him the order to get some rest. He would have denied it and stood guarding the door until his feet ached and he succumbed to over exhaustion. But, Frieda.

Frieda might just be the one reason why he would step away.

And he hadn’t seen her come home.

Most of his brethren, the other blades were retired for the night. It was late. The halls of the temple were quiet, only echoing each solid footstep he took. After hearing word that their hero came in but just a moment ago—soaking wet and hobbling down to the quarters—he took great stride to reach her.

Who knew what kind of torment she went through.

He did not find her sleeping in her cot and the rain pounding on the roof told him that she was not camping under the stars. He knocked on the door to the baths. No answer but a crackle of thunder shuddering from above. However, warmth was peeking through the cracks in the doorframe.

“Frieda.” He called softly but firmly. His eyes took in the sight. A sight that he has seen one too many times.

Her bare form was slumped in the bath. Articles of bloodied armor and underthings scattered the stone floor. The smell of incense and soap invaded his senses. It would have been pleasant if it weren’t for how dark the bath water had turned.

Crimson.

He approached her, chest rising and falling heavy. His skin touched hers and he felt her pulse beating at ease. He took a breath.

“Frieda, wake up.” He nudged her shoulder before taking a seat on the floor, an arm resting on the tub. Her eyes were rolling side to side behind her lids. Spasms and jolted movements struck through her joints as hushed whimpers escaped plush lips. She must have been having another one of those dreams. Those nightmares.

His gaze examined her body—riddled with cuts and purple marks. The dips and curves in her beautiful form were beginning to flatten. When was the last time she had a proper meal?

He cursed at her state.

For one so experienced in the art of restoration, she never conserved enough energy to heal herself.

•••

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of a voice.

Baurus.

Frieda took a deep breath calming the race of her beating heart. She didn't startle so easily back then. She was so much more composed. But, sending her soul into the madness of oblivion every day does provoke change.

Her eyes met his dark brown. Soft.

“How long was I out?” The hoarseness in her voice made her grimace.

“Not sure. I noticed you did not come in and as soon as I could I went looking for you… Frieda. Look at you.”

She couldn’t help but smirk at the mother-hen tone to his voice. He was just that. Always so caring and kind.

“I am still breathing, aren’t I? My limbs are all in place. I seem quite alright.”

He looked down upon her. His build still held above her even at the angle. She took notice of the furrow in his dark brow, its creases painted with concern. Someone with such duty should not worry about one such as her.

“Baurus, truly—“ her vision tore away from his to the sight of her pale skin against the tinged water. More and more marks. More that would become scars serving as constant reminders of her place in this war. Constant storytellers painted along her flesh. A wrenching sensation washed through her stomach.

“—I’m fine.”

“Have you eaten?”

She shrugged, “I had a meal this morning.”

He let out a sigh, “Would you like me to bring you something?” His voice was quiet. She looked up into his eyes—not wanting his warmth to leave her.

“Please, stay.” Her tone cracked as she placed her palm against his skin.

“I’m not ready to be alone again.”

His body shifted closer. She could feel the heat from his skin against hers that had begun to chill from the cold bath water.

“How is Martin?” She asked with intent to distract herself from her state.

Baurus shook his head, “He has been working hard. I don’t think I even saw him blink his eyes today. He’s pushing himself to the point—“ his voice took a pause and he exhaled. “You need to rest. Both of you. Just take a moment for yourself and breathe. Please. I am tired of seeing you suffer.”

“We both have a duty…I can’t rest. You know this.”

He felt her hand grip his wrist. As he looked down into her eyes he was able to see through the darkness that pooled beneath her eyelids. Her beautiful heterochromatic eyes that glimmered in blues and greens. He saw her beauty through her misery.

What he would give to take it away from her.

“You are strong, Frieda. You will fight this battle and remain successful as you are every day. In years to come we will look back on this as just a small feat in our lives full of many.”

Her fingertips brushed along his arm, pulling him in closer towards her. All of her attention pooled to the words that he spoke.

“I am here for you. I always will be. For you, for Martin. I am here and I do not intend on going anywhere.”

His voice grew softer, “you are not alone anymore.”

She smiled through the wetness that formed against her eyes. With a gentle tug on the linen of his tunic, he yelped as she nearly pulled him into the cool water with her.

The delicate skin of his lips met hers in an embrace. It was not forceful. Not lustful—but tender and comforting. They both needed this. A release of emotion in an act of intimacy. Being both on duty at the temple never allowed for much opportunity to show their affection.

This kiss was one of many to come, even if she had to wait far in between.

His lips parted hers. Deep brown gazing into two orbs—one of blue and one of green.

She knew at that moment that he was the one thing she never thought she could have.

Her strength.

[dumpsterkittenao3]

Chapter 17: In Morning and Dew

Fandom: Oblivion-Elder Scrolls

Summery: Innocent/virgin non-descrip fem reader makes her way back to Cyrodiil from studying abroad. Lending aid to Xvatch after the oblivion crisis was resolved. Kidnapped to each realm of the daedric princes where each one has their way with her. Straight to the point smut with each chapter tailored to the pertaining daedric prince. There is a cohesive story line and slow burn romantic feelings. Plus obsessive/possessive behavior.

Daedric Prince: Clavicus Vile and Barbas x non-descrip femreader

Content warnings: noncon, dubcon, oral sex (male and female receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, somnophilia. The fanfic has plenty more tags but this should cover the excerpt.

This is a section out of a chapter out of a 100k word fanfic. Excerpt is 2.1k words long.

Sunlit warmth ghosted my skin, soothing my raw abused flesh. To my surprise I found a warmer feeling spreading beneath. I let out a content sigh, a deep breath in through my nose then out. Taking my time coming to the waking world, enjoying my morning rather than racing through it. I sprawled out stretching as I did. One leg crossing over Barbas’ and my head nestling further against Vile’s ribs. “Still tired?” Vile’s soft voice melting me that much further into the pillowy bed. I nodded in response, Vile leaned in kissing my forehead. That feeling ignited from a pleasant warmth to a comfortable blaze. My jaw clenched and before I could deny myself my palm glided down his skin tracing the supple muscle and bone that lay beneath. Further still until coarse hair met my fingertips, I heard him suck in a sharp breath, and his body tense. A faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Just as I sent my intentions to delve further a loud snore pulled my attention from teasing Vile to the bulky man behind me.

I propped myself up on the hand that had been resting beneath my cheek and looked over my shoulder. With my attention wandering I heard Vile let out an annoyed “tsk”. I smirked keeping my fingers at bay from where he wanted them most.

Barbas was sprawled out in the star position and seemed still deep in sleep. My hand followed my attention span, straying from Vile to Barbas. I traced the outline of his cock, Barbas stirred ever so slightly. I sucked in my lower lip and continued ghosting the pads of my fingers over his length. Watching intently as he hardened from my touch. Still he did not wake. Vile sat up the palette of his chin coming to rest atop my shoulder. I heard him smirk and his arm traveling around my waist to pull me in close.

“So soon? Couldn’t wait till after breakfast?” Vile teased. My brow furrowed and the pestering thought came to light. What was I doing? I replaced my fingers with my palm, bringing it up then down his hard cock. The thought lingered but it died all the same. As quickly as it had come, I paid it no mind as I continued, watching as Barbas stirred in his spot. His lips parted and soft pants could be heard now. Vile’s palm smoothed over my stomach traveling ever so slowly down to where my core ached for it most. Parting my lips to ghost warm fingertips over my bud. His fingers dipped to my entrance gathering slick there then set a dizzying pace. I clenched my teeth trying to ascertain enough focus to continue my exploration of Barbas, wanting to wrench him from blissful sleep into my deplorable grasp.

Vile was relentless in his pursuit of forcing me over the edge, keeping focus on staying quiet and carefully palming Barbas’ length was torture. Yet my efforts seemed to be paying off as I watched his undercloth darken near the tip of his cock. Spurring on my efforts or confidence, I moved my fingers to the hem of his undercloth. Pulling down until his cock sprung free. I heard Clavicus tsk behind me but I found myself paying it no mind, where I should have been. I dipped low until the head of his length was ghosting my lips. The scent of sunlight and pine as it was when I had first met him. It seemed further distant than it should have. My tongue snaked past my lips to lick the fluid gathering at his tip. Sticky and salty leaving me wanting more.

I felt Vile shift behind me, grabbing my hips and pulling me back leaving me little time to find places for my hands. Once I was on my knees we were still for the shortest of moments, waiting for any indication that Barbas was awake. Still he didn’t stir beyond his already parted lips. Tentatively I encased the tip of his cock within my mouth sucking softly and carefully at first. Barbas’ legs straightened prompting me to move around them. Behind Vile shifted once more before I felt his tongue laving and licking my cunt. I let out a quiet cry at the sudden pleasurable invasion. Before allowing it to further spur my actions.

I pushed myself further, doing my best to take him fully into my mouth. Sucking and swirling my tongue around the velvety skin. From the corner of my eye I saw his toes curl, his hands ball into fists. I let out a stifled moan around him as Vile’s tongue sought after further depths. He was pushing me to the edge of my own climax and all I had managed was stuffing Barbas’ cock to my throat.

“Stuck there my star?” Vile laughs and pulls away but it isn't for long. The tip of his cock presses obscenely to my entrance and before I can protest his hand is on the back of my head pushing it further down. I gag and choke around Barbas’ cock, tears welling in my ears. My spit turns viscous as Barbas’ cock presses further down my throat.

“Perfect, wrap your hand around the base there and use your spit.” Vile chides as he walks me through how to make up for what I lack. My cheeks heat up and through obstinance I follow his direction. Pulling back to spit the thick saliva in my palm. “Both mouth and hand sweetheart.” My brow furrows in irritation but I follow his command all the same, wanting selfishly my own release.

In tune I greedily suck as far as my throat allows and use my hand for what length I can't take. After I’ve settled into a rhythm Clavicus wastes no time in taking my cunt for himself. I groan around Barbas no longer caring if I wake him. Clavicus stretching my cunt to its limits makes it hard to care about anything. Each snap of his hips strikes pleasure to my core, sending an ache down my legs. My eyes roll back and my efforts to please Barbas become more and more sloppy. Vile’s hand moves from the back of my head to my hip to further his desecration of my body.

I shudder around him, my cunt clenching and begging for more. Tears and spit gather on my cheeks and jaw. All of it far from the original idea I had of morning sex. Yet better than I could have hoped for. Hands pressed to the back of my head but I could swear Vile’s were still at my hips. The sudden driving of hips further shoving Barbas’ cock down my throat eliciting a gaging fit from me answers my question.

Barbas’ is awake. I turn my gaze and as much of my head as I can to meet his. His eyes are half open and he seems a cross between sleepy and hungry for more. I squint from the force of the two men using me as they please.

“Guhdorningh.” The flush at my cheeks flamed from my pathetic attempt and the grin from Barbas was enough to force my attention back to my efforts. With both hands tangled within my hair and Vile making a mess of my cunt every fiber of my being was being slowly and deliciously devoured. My back arched prompting Vile to find deeper depths. My pace around Barbas’ length was desperate now as I pulled deeper and faster than his hips could keep up with. Swirling my tongue around the tip as I sucked and in time with my hands. His moans turned breathy and needy.

[sigrid-of-solstheim]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s) Characters: Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil, Martin Septim Additional Tags: Fantasy, Diary/Journal Summary:

This tome, compiled, edited, and annotated by Sigrid Heithdóttir, Dean of Chronicles at the College of Winterhold, is a biographical account of the life of Nerio Ventus the Champion of Cyrodiil, and a compilation of her diary and personal writings from the era of the Oblivion Crisis.

This is an informational work intended to bring to light a great hero who until now has been swept under the rugs of Tamrielic history.

Note: This is my first attempt at writing in a story format, so constructive criticism is appreciated. Please be patient with me!

[druidx]

WIP Drinking Game

Yoinked from @blind-the-winds

Rules: Create a drinking game that one could theoretically play while reading your WIP, using recurring themes or writing elements.

Tagging: @wildswrites @aalinaaaaaa @thewriteflame @aquadestinyswriting @artdecosupernova-writing @autumnalwalker @blind-the-winds @eli-writes-sometimes @hannahcbrown @oh-no-another-idea @rhikasa @swordsoulwrites @winglesswriter @andromeda-grace @writingmaidenwarrior

WIP name: The Ruby Falls

Take a sip whenever:

Someone comments on Aderyn's weight, eating habits or offers her food (forcefully or otherwise)

Martin & Baurus touch, pre-revelation

Someone is referred to by a nickname (ex. Rook, Gramps, B)

Aderyn gets another scar

Take a shot whenever:

Aderyn knowingly and flagrantly breaks the law (such as impersonating a cop, B&E)

The Ruby Key is referred to as "warm from body heat"

Someone mentions Aderyn being domesticated

Down your drink whenever:

Aderyn does something Penetration Tester related

Someone mentions 'red-drink'

Martin & Baurus get together

Pour one out for the fallen when:

Martin and Baurus break up

Aderyn gets THE scar

Martin is taken to hospital

[nine-blessed-hero]

WIP Whenever

Thanks for the tag @hannah-heartstrings

Tagging back (FYI this is a fandom side-blog of DruidX): @aalinaaaaaa @ieppiq @wispstalk @rhikasa @eli-writes-sometimes @hannah-heartstrings @artdecosupernova-writing @mythrilpencil @aquadestinyswriting @reneesbooks @oh-no-another-idea @winglesswriter @pheita

Rules: Share a line or paragraph (or screenshot for non-writing art) from something you recently worked on. If it's on Wednesday - great! If no, no worries :)

I started working on Talis Wants Some 'Shrooms again, so here's a recent snip from that:

As we explored the area around the Ayleid ruin, we found two more clusters of Clouded Funnel Cap. I showed her how to check the cap was good and then watched as she hesitantly sliced it's cap off. "Good work. We'll make an alchemist of you yet," I smiled. Cygwen's face pinched, doubt in her voice as she said, "Yes, Master." I gestured for us to continue, climbing over a boulder in order to reach a higher section of what was now becoming a rabbit trail. "Trust me, even if all you have is wortcraft, it might save your life or the life of a friend in battle. For example, these mushrooms we just picked, if properly prepared, can aid in learning or alleviate the effects of some curses. And there's a reason why mothers make their children drink bergamot tea - doing so really can help stave off an illness." It didn't take us long to fill the quota for Clouded Funnel Cap, prolific as it was in the area. The Tinder Polypore was a bit more tricky, requiring some climbing and gymnastics to get good samples. As we wandered, I pointed out some other plants – Milk Thistle and the odd, struggling, Lavender plant. "I realise it may go against your religion to pick these plants, but it still may be useful for you to know these things. In a pinch, crushed Milk Thistle seeds give off a small glow, and Lavender flowers can help certain 'uglification' curses." "I understand, Master. While it would be against my observances to consume these plants myself, there is nothing which states I could not do so for the benefit of others, such as saving a life."

Now for some complaining/ rubber ducking.

I started writing this in Oct 2020. Normally when I start a story, I have some idea, however nebulous, of how it's going to end. Unfortunately I don't often leave myself notes... So because this is so old, I'm not really sure where I was going with the story, and it's become very obvious now I've come back to it that I'm kind of waffling and I don't know what the point I was trying make with it was.

I should probably mark it as 'Abandoned' and move on, but at 4000, it's a solid chunk of wordage that also introduces Cygwen and Talis' Master, Ysbeth Embertame, so I'd like to post it. But also it feels odd posting without a solid ending. Maybe I should just skip ahead to when Talis has his 'shrooms and they're sampling his mushroom bread at the end...

[hannah-heartstrings]

WIP Whensday

And yes, I think I'm clever for that pun. XD

Tagged by @inkysqueed whom I tag back, also tagging @babyblueetbaemonster @druidx @katastronoot @the-sunlit-earth @thequeenofthewinter and anyone who wants to be

Apparently it's been months since I did one of these? 😅 I haven't worked on much since tesfest tbh. But my creativity reignited last week. :D Especially for AUs for some reason.

So here's a snippet from the modern thiefguard AU:

            Garrus sighed tiredly. Papers sprawled across the floor around him, pieces of a puzzle that seemed to make less sense the more he tried to solve it.             As music started, he looked up, surprised gaze stopping on Lecrinn’s outstretched hand.             She smirked. “May I have this dance?”             His face fell into stern annoyance. “This is no time for goofing around.”             “We need clear heads to solve a crime,” her smile brightened, “so it’s the perfect time for goofing around!” When his expression didn’t change, hers shifted to match it. “My brain is basically stir-fry, I need a break, and so do you.”             His gaze dropped to the papers, exhausting to even look at. He looked back up with a nervous wince. “I’m not good at dancing.”             Her smile relit with a laugh. “Neither am I.”             He looked resigned but couldn’t stop a small smile as he took her hand.

[unironicallytes]

Dear Brother: Ch04 Supplemental Lore - The Sanctifiers

This post is about what a Sanctifier's role is and who Cheydinhal's current Sanctifiers are within the setting of Dear Brother.

Sanctifiers are the local leaders of Sanctuaries. They report to Speakers and Silencers, and are the authority which many Dark Siblings are in regular direct contact with. For the most part, Sanctifiers do not go out on contract duty unless dire circumstances call for it - while they may leave on short errands, at least one Sanctifier must remain in the Sanctuary at all times. They assign duties to all other Sanctuary inhabitants; handle mentorship and in-house training; lead prayers and most daily rituals; manage Sanctuary funds and distribute payment; etc.

During the Third Era, it was common for there to be two Sanctifiers per Sanctuary: a Matron and a Patron. Though the titles are gendered, those who inhabit the roles may be any gender; the titles themselves are simply evocative of Night Mother and Dread Father, since these members are "parents" to their local Family. Both Sanctifiers are knowledgeable about every aspect of running a Sanctuary, but the Matron primarily focuses on the business side of operations while the Patron focuses on the religious side. In Cheydinhal Sanctuary, Ocheeva is the Matron while Vicente is the Patron.

Matron Sanctifier Ocheeva

Ocheeva is one of two Shadowscales currently residing at Cheydinhal, the other of whom is her younger brother Teinaava. (In Dear Brother, the Shadowscale siblings were not raised by Lucien, and are 6 years apart in age rather than twins.) Ocheeva originally began her career with the Brotherhood in another Valus-operated Sanctuary near Alten Corimount, her first destination following her Shadowscale training in Archon. There, she proved to be a competent assassin, but shone brightest when guiding others. When one of Cheydinhal's Sanctifiers died in 3E420, Speaker Vicente specifically sought her out to fill the role. She requested to transfer her younger brother sometime later, so as to watch over his career.

Ocheeva is clever, calm, and methodical. She radiates an approachable aura to Family members under her care. In hindsight, Vicente believes she would have made a good Silencer and eventual Speaker had the timing not been the way it was.

Patron Sanctifier Vicente Valtieri

Vicente is Cheydinhal's oldest member at the staggering age of 348. Being the oldest never caused him arrogance or entitlement however, and he holds Brotherhood figures and fables such as Domitius close to his heart. Vicente hails from the Berne bloodline purely due to the coincidence of being attacked by them in Vvardenfell - he does not call the clan home and does not know his sire. Therefore, although he's a fairly old vampire, he's not a particularly powerful one, only having self-taught the basics of his powers to supplement work and faith. He joined the Brotherhood shortly after being turned and has been a part of Cheydinhal ever since.

Never being an ambitious Sibling, he merely filled roles where he was most needed for the better part of three centuries. Around the late 3E390s, that role happened to be Valus Silencer, followed by Valus Speaker, the latter of which he served as for twenty-one years. He stepped down for reasons unknown to the wider Brotherhood and requested to be made a Sanctifier instead. This allowed his Silencer - a Khajiit named Kethikrassa - to ascend in his place, where she would serve until Speaker Lucien rose to power in the present day.

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday!! 💛

Not much to say here! Been doing some Oblivion writing this week for the second chapter of With light comes shadow :)

I've also been trying to get back into my Skyrim hold symbol cross stitching seeming as the light is a bit better to work with but there's nothing substantial to share at this point!

Have also been tagged by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter 💛

------

“Well then,” the annoyance muttered, looking between the locked cell door and the open passageway leading away from the cell. “He’s given us free passage to leave, so- H-Hey, wait! Where are you going?!”

Drissa certainly didn’t care for any of her now former cellmate’s ramblings, and made her way through the passageway to get out of the cell. Perhaps Azura had been looking over her that day, and provided her with the opportunity to change her fate and prove her innocence. And of course, now that she was free...

With a deep breath, she tugged at the irons about her wrists, and watched as the chain between them simply shattered. Just as she had expected – they were so badly maintained, all it took was a little muscle to get them off. Why that idiot she had been locked up with went through all the hassle of picking the lock of his own was madness.

“And how in Oblivion did you do that?!”

Her eyes darted to her side as she walked, and she let out a quiet scoff when she saw that he was trying to keep up with her. “Any idiot would have noticed that they were falling apart. Now go away.”

"There's only one way out, you know… I think we're stuck together, at least until we're out of here if we've got to 'stay out of their way'," he quickly remarked, making her scowl as she slowed her pace. She begrudgingly had to admit that he had a point about that – she didn't want to be given a free pass to escape prison on the Emperor's behest just to get herself killed for getting too close to him and his bodyguards. "But I definitely understand the desire to get out of here. This place sends shivers up my spine..."

What very quickly became clear was the fact that the thief seemed to hate silence. He was constantly chattering away, trying to make small talk, filling in any moment of quiet with his voice. It certainly didn't help that his voice carried, and the echoes would add to the irritation which had been building from the moment those guards had knocked on her door.

“You know, I don’t believe that I have introduced myself," he eventually mused, before letting out a quiet chuckle. He then quickly moved to in front of her, stopping her in her path. She couldn't have cared less about who he was, they were going to be parting ways the very second that they were out of there, so was quick to maneouvre around him. "Florian Livius is my name. And you are... It's Drissa, yes? I knew from the moment I first saw you that there was something familiar about you, and it's only now that I've been able to put my finger on it. You were on those posters! The new Grand Champion-“

Drissa stopped in her tracks then held her arm out in front of Florian, glaring in his direction as he continued to talk. “Shut up.”

"Oh. Is that a touchy subject? If so, then I won't-"

"No, shut up!"

Briskly, she jabbed her elbow into his ribs, making him hiss in pain, though it was otherwise effective in making him quieten down. She didn't care in the slightest if he wanted to blather on about him recognising her from posters, for they had probably already been torn down as a result of her arrest – what she did care about was that they had caught up to the Emperor.

[da3drat]

uhhhhh lemme get a martinceleste, number 19 BLEASE

AAA TY THE CUTEST PROMPT

19. A kiss for luck

"Celeste!" Martin calls, stumbling out of Cloud Ruler temple half asleep.

She is leading Rain out of the stables, barely visible in the flurries of pre dawn snow. He jogs to meet her in the stable arch, pulling his thin shirt around him.

"I thought you were asleep?" She says, running one hand vigorously along his arm trying to warm him.

She looks to him like a fairy tale heroine; bundled in a warm furry cloak, cheeks and nose pink from the cold, amber eyes bright like fire. She is fussing over him, rambling about catching a chill or freezing to death in these clothes, as she always does when she's avoiding her own thoughts.

"I wanted to see you off, but you got up so early. Trying to avoid goodbyes?" He jokes.

"Of course not." She says, but she doesn't meet his gaze.

He watches her stroke Rain's muzzle for a moment.

"Are you scared?"

She puffs herself up indignantly.

"What? Of Miscarcand? No. I know you said it was dangerous but it can't be any worse than Oblivion. And wandering around the Deadlands is practically an average Morndas at this point."

It almost sounds like the truth, but Martin knows her tells. 

He pulls her into the stable, out of the falling snow, and dusts the flakes off her hood.

"You're right." He says, voice growing quiet. "No long dead Aylied king stands a chance against you. But be careful anyway please. For me."

Her nerves seem to still a bit, and she fidgets with the lining on her hood.

"Okay. For you." She whispers.

"And even though I know you don't need it-"

Martin tentatively tips her chin up to look at him, giving her plenty of time to pull away before he leans in to kiss her. She is still with surprise for only a moment before she melts into him like water. When they pull away, her cheeks have somehow grown even pinker.

"-For luck."

[hircines-lapdog]

The shadows are your friend. They conceal you from prey. It is this darkness that allows you to hunt and survive and live.

These thoughts rattled through Valya’s head like a mantra as she crept through the makeshift tunnels underneath the Imperial Prison. She clung to them like a raft, insistent that they were true. She was a hunter, one who stalked the undergrowth of the forests of Cyrodiil as a means of livelihood. The darkness should not bother her, yet, it did. There was no breeze carrying the smell of fresh growth or hints of rain, nor was there the soft thump thump thump of deer bounding down the trails. No… the air here was stale and reeked of mold. The only sound of life being the chittering of rats and faint words of goblintongue. These shadows were not her friend. They sought to trap her, suffocate her, be her next jail cell. And yet still Valya trudged on, a rickety bow gripped tight in her shaking hands.

“Stay behind.” The guards, Blades Valya thinks they were called, had said to her. “You can not be trusted.” The thought would make her laugh if she were not so scared. What terrible, terrible things must be occurring for the Emperor, by the Nine, The Emperor, to be secreted away through her jail cell. To have the Blades be suspicious of her, unarmed and in rags. She had been arrested for poaching, after all, not murder. The only blood Valya spilt was that of animals and now goblins as she continued through the tunnels, praying that the maze of stone and mud would eventually lead to freedom.

They instead lead her to a massacre.

Men shouting and fighting under arched doorways stained with blood. The Emperor, sword drawn, backed against a wall. Figures seemingly materialized from the darkness, launching themselves at the Blades only to be cut down. Their apparel was red, the kind where Valya struggled to determine where the cloth ended and the pools of blood began. Something about them sent shivers down her spine. The shadows she was so desperate to leave behind became her haven as she crouched in the corner, pressed to the cold stone as if the earth might open up and swallow her whole. Some primal part told Valya that that would be preferable to whatever fate awaited her at the hands of these red cloaked assassins.

Assassins… that’s what they were. That’s why the Emperor has appeared at her cell and why the Blades were so on edge. Valya’s eyes scanned the room until they settled on the man in regal robes, a bright red amulet resting against his chest. He looked up, his eyes finding her, and for a moment that felt like a millenium, Valya felt as if her soul had been laid bare before this man. He knew something she did not, and they both knew it.

“You again? You’re awfully persistent, aren’t you? Persistent enough to be an assassin, mayhaps.” Valya was dragged from the moment that felt like an eternity by one of the Blades, a woman, standing over her, sword drawn. Had the figures in red all been killed and she hadn’t noticed? Valya’s eyes frantically darted around, desperate to find an escape route. She was no assassin. She just wanted to go home, but something told her the Blade standing over her would not listen.

“That’s enough. She is a friend, not a foe.”

His voice was quiet yet demanding. The kind of voice that would silence a room and draw everyone’s attention without the need for shouting. The Blade stepped back, incredulous, as the Emperor approached. His eyes were kind, yet that did not put Valya at ease. This was a man who commanded the world. No one with that much power could be truly kind.

“Yes… it’s you. The one from my dreams. I know your face and your heart. The eyes of the Nine turn their gazes upon you as more sinister forces turn theirs unto me. Come, walk with me, friend. I would have a soul as bright as yours with me in these dark moments.”

Valya blinked, mirroring the confused looks of the Blades around them. What was she to say to this request? Surely she could not refuse? This was the Emperor himself, addressing her as if she were an old friend. How do you know me? She wanted to ask. What do you mean by dreams? Sinister forces? I’m certainly not ordained by the gods. Perhaps you’re mistaken? Ultimately, Valya decided that these questions could wait, and that it was rude to deny such a simple request.

And so they walked. The Blades did not speak to her beyond barking orders, and the Emperor merely continued with his cryptic words. Though she would never admit it, Valya was concerned that perhaps the most powerful man in Tamriel was losing it. That was, until they were both shoved into a small room with orders to defend the man with her life. It was then that Emperor Uriel Septim VII turned to her, his expression one of sorrow and acceptance, and pressed the ruby red amulet into her hand.

“Take this. It is the Amulet of Kings. Find Jauffre of Weynon Priory. Ask him about my son, Martin. He will know what to do. I wish you luck, hero.”

Valya protested. “What? Why me? Why can’t you-“

“It is my time. These tunnels will serve as my tomb.” He gave her a sad smile, “I have lived a long life, but those in the shadows plot against me, and it seems today their plans will be set in motion. Go then, close shut the jaws of Oblivion. I have faith that the Nine will guide you.”

The next few moments felt as if they happened in slow motion. Valya opened her mouth, prepared to demand answers. What does the Emperor mean ‘Close shut the jaws of Oblivion?’ She was no one. A hunter from the wilds.

Then the wall opened up.

Another red clad figure, blade at the ready, leapt from the darkness. Before Valya could even draw her bow their dagger sank into the Emperor’s back. She had never seen a body drop so fast, like it was made of lead. A shout was heard from somewhere. One of the Blades. The assassin then turned to her, and though no eyes could be seen from behind their visor, Valya knew they were filled with bloodlust. She fumbled for an arrow and drew, just as they leapt at her.

Thunk.

A second body dropping to the floor like it was lead filled. More blood pooling on the floor. Valya felt sick. She was no murderer. It was self defense. Yet she killed a person all the same. And as the last surviving Blade of the Emperor’s escort came, and she numbly recounted what the Emperor had ordered her to do, Valya never looked away from the two bodies on the floor and the mixing pool of blood beneath them both. A Royal and the heretic that killed him. Before she could stop it, a thought struck Valya as she turned to fulfill the mission set before her.

And yet they both bleed red all the same.