#or theres like oblivion names

[pinacoladamatata]

help

[miikpal]

i ran and i ran

[falmerbrook]

Why does pretty much every game except the one that takes place in Cyrodiil lean into Ancient Roman aesthetics for Cyrodiil and the Empire? Why are the only Roman aesthetics in Oblivion shit built by the Ayleids? Why is the one game where I could've been in fantasy Rome generic fantasy Europe??? Where is my fantasy Rome DAMMIT!!!!!

[luluviibi]

im gonna give morrowind a try today. i have the julan companion mod installed, because by god im gonna treat this game like a dressup dating sim for as long as i have the option!!

ill probably end up setting the difficulty low, im pretty bad at games already but id feel so bad if my good buddy bestfriend julan died because of me ^^''

[nightingaletrash]

I still love the hc that Nocturnal just turns on any Nightingale that becomes the Grey Fox. She gives you her attention, she gives you power, and you chose the ugly ass cowl over her? Fuck you *curses you to guard the sepulchre forever*

[acourtofquestions]

🚨 SPOILERS🚨

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 50

Rowan's hands tightened on Aelin's shoulders as the words settled into her, hollow and cold.

"Maeve is a Valg queen?" he breathed.

Aelin said nothing. Couldn't find the words. Her power roiled. She didn't feel it.

Nesryn nodded solemnly. "Yes. The kharankui told us the entire history."

And so Nesryn did as well. Of how Maeve had somehow found a way into this world, fleeing or bored with her husband, Orcus. Erawan's elder brother. Of how Erawan, Orcus, and Mantyx had torn apart worlds to find her, Orcus's missing wife, and only halted here because the Fae had risen to challenge them. Fae led by Maeve, whom the Valg kings did not know or recognize, in the form she had taken.

The life she had crafted for herself. The minds of all the Fae who had existed that she had ripped into, convincing them that there had been three queens, not two. Including the minds of Mab and Mora, the two sister-queens who had ruled Doranelle. Including Brannon himself.

"The spiders claimed," Nesryn went on, "that even Brannon didn't know. Even now, in the Afterworld, he doesn't know. That was how deep Maeve's powers went into his mind, into all their minds. She made herself their true queen."

The words, the truth, pelted Aelin, one after another.

Elide's face was white as death. "But she fears the healers." A nod toward Yrene. "She keeps that owl, you said—an enslaved Fae healer-should the Valg ever discover her." For that was the other piece of it. The other thing Nesryn had revealed, Chaol and Yrene adding in their own accounts. The Valg were parasites. And Yrene could cure their human hosts of them. Had done so for Princess Duva. And might be able to do with so many others enslaved with rings or collars. But what had infested Duva ... A Valg princess.

Aelin leaned back into her chair, her head resting against the solid wall of Rowan's body.

His hands shook against her shoulders. Shook as he seemed to realize what, exactly, had ripped into his mind. Where Maeve's power had come from that allowed her to do so. Why she remained deathless and ageless, and had outlasted any other. Why Maeve's power was darkness.

"It is also why she fears fire," Sartaq said, jerking his chin to Aelin. "Why she fears you so."

And why she'd wanted to break her. To be just like that enslaved healer bound in owl form at her side.

"I thought—I managed to cut her once," Aelin said at last. That quiet, ancient darkness pushed in, dragging her down, down, down-" I saw her blood flow black. Then it changed to red." She blew out a breath, pulling out of the darkness, the silence that wanted to devour her whole. Made herself straighten. Peer at Fenrys.

"You said that her blood tasted ordinary to you when you swore the oath." The white wolf shifted back into his Fae body. His bronze skin was ashen, his dark eyes swimming with dread. "It did."

Rowan growled, "It didn't taste any different to me, either."

"A glamour-like the form she maintains," Gavriel mused.

Nesryn nodded. "From what the spiders said, it seems entirely possible that she would be able to convince you that her blood looked and tasted like Fae blood."

Fenrys made a sound like he was going to be sick. Aelin was inclined to do the same.

And from far away—a memory-that-was-not-a-memory stirred. Of summer nights spent in a forest glen, Maeve instructing her. Telling her a story about a queen who walked between worlds.

Who had not been content in the realm in which she'd been born, and had found a way to leave it, using the lost knowledge of ancient wayfarers. World-walkers.

Maeve had told her. Perhaps a skewed, biased tale, but she'd told her. Why? Why do it at all? Some way to win her-or to make her hesitate, should it ever come to this?

"But Maeve hates the Valg kings," Elide said, and even from the silent, drifting place to which Aelin had gone, she could see the razor-sharp mind churning behind Elide's eyes. "She's hidden for this long. Surely she wouldn't ally with them."

"She ran at the chance to get hold of a Valg collar," Fenrys said darkly. "Seemed convinced that she could control the prince inside it."

Not only through Maeve's power, but because she was a demon queen.

Aelin forced herself to take another breath. Another. Her fingers curled, gripping an invisible weapon.

Lorcan had not uttered a word. Had done nothing but stand there, pale and silent. As if he'd stopped being in his body, too.

"We don't know her plans," Nesryn said.

"The kharankui have not seen her for millennia, and only hear whisperings carried by lesser spiders. But they still worship her, and wait for her return."

Chaol met Aelin's stare, his gaze questioning.

Aelin said quietly, "I was Maeve's prisoner for two months."

Utter silence in the tent. Then she explained—all of it. Why she was not in Terrasen, who now fought there, where Dorian and Manon had gone.

Aelin swallowed as she finished, leaning into Rowan's touch. "Maeve wished me to reveal the location of the two Wyrdkeys. Wanted me to hand them over, but I managed to get them away before she took me. To Doranelle. She wanted to break me to her will. To use me to conquer the world, I thought. But it perhaps now seems she wanted to use me as a shield against the Valg, to guard her always." The words tumbled out, heavy and sharp. "I was her captive until nearly a month ago." She nodded toward her court. "When I got free, they found me again."

Silence fell again, her new companions at a loss. She didn't blame them.

Then Hasar hissed, "We'll make the bitch pay for that, too, won't we?"

Aelin met the princess's dark stare. "Yes, we will."

A Valg queen.

That's who had held his Fireheart. What sort of power had tried to break into her mind.

What power had broken into Rowan's mind.

All their minds, if she could glamour her blood to look and taste ordinary.

He felt the tension rising in Aelin, a raging storm that nearly hummed into his hands as he gripped her shoulders.

Yet her flames made no appearance. They hadn't shown so much as an ember these weeks, despite how hard they'd trained. Occasionally, he'd spy Goldryn's ruby gleaming while she held it, as if fire glowed in the heart of the stone. But nothing more. Not even when they'd tangled in their bed on the ship, when his teeth had found that mark on her neck.

Elide surveyed them all, their silence, and said to their new companions, "Perhaps we should determine a plan of action regarding tomorrow's battle." And give them time, later tonight, to sort through this colossal mess.

Chaol nodded. "We brought a trunk of books with us," he said to Aelin. "From the Torre. They're all full of Wyrdmarks." Aelin didn't so much as blink, but Chaol finished, "If we get through this battle, they're yours to peruse. In case there's anything in them that might help." Against Erawan, against Maeve, against his mate's terrible fate. Aelin just vaguely nodded.

So Rowan forced himself to shove away the shock and disgust and fear, and focus upon the plan ahead. Only Gavriel seemed able to do the same, Fenrys staying where he was, and Lorcan just staring and staring at nothing.

Aelin remained in her chair, simmering.

Roiling.

They planned it quickly and efficiently: they would return with Chaol and Yrene to the keep, to help with the fighting tomorrow. The khaganate royals would push from here, Nesryn and Prince Sartaq leading the ruks, and Princess Hasar commanding the foot soldiers and Darghan cavalry. A brilliantly trained, lethal group. Rowan had already marked the Darghan soldiers, with their fine horses and armor, their spears and crested helmets, while they'd strode for this tent, and breathed a sigh of relief at their skill. Perhaps the last sigh of relief he'd have in this war. Certainly if the khagan's forces hadn't yet decided where they would take this army afterward. He supposed it was fair-so many territories were now in Morath's path-but when this battle was over, he'd make damn sure they marched northward. To Terrasen.

But tomorrow-tomorrow they'd hammer Morath's legion against the keep walls, Chaol and Rowan leading the men from inside, picking off enemy soldiers.

Aelin didn't volunteer to do anything. Didn't indicate that she'd heard them.

And when they'd all deemed the plan sound, along with a contingency plan should it go awry, Nesryn only said, "We'll find you ruks to carry you back to the keep," before Aelin stormed into the frigid night, Rowan barely keeping up with her.

No embers trailed her. Mud did not hiss beneath her boots.

There was no fire at all. Not a spark.

As if Maeve had snuffed out that flame.

Made her fear it.

Hate it.

Aelin cut through the neatly organized tents, past horses and their armored riders, past foot soldiers around campfires, past the ruk riders and their mighty birds, who filled him with such awe he had no words for it. All the way to the eastern edge of the camp and the plains that stretched past, the space wide and hollow after the closeness of the army.

She didn't stop until she reached a stream they'd crossed only hours ago. It was nearly frozen over, but a stomp of her boot had the ice cracking. Breaking free to reveal dark water kissed with silvery starlight.

Then she fell to her knees and drank.

Drank and drank, cupping the water to her mouth. It had to be cold enough to burn, but she kept at it until she braced her hands on her knees and said, "I can't do this."

Rowan sank to a knee, the shield he'd kept around her while she stalked here sealing out the cold wind off the open plain.

"I-I can't—" She took a shuddering breath, and covered her face with her wet hands.

Gently, Rowan gripped her wrists and lowered them. "You do not face this alone."

Anguish and terror filled those beautiful eyes, and his chest tightened to the point of pain as she said, "It was a fool's shot against Erawan. But against him and Maeve? She gathered an army to her. Is likely bringing that army to Terrasen right now. And if Erawan summons his two brothers, if the other kings return—"

"He needs the two other keys to do that. He doesn't have them."

Her fingers curled, digging into her palms hard enough that the tang of her blood filled the air. "I should have gone after the keys. Right away. Not come here. Not done this."

"It is Dorian's task now, not yours. He will not fail at it."

"It is my task, and always has been—"

"We made the choice to come here, and we will stick to that decision," he snarled, not bothering to temper his tone. "If Maeve is indeed bringing her army to Terrasen, then it only confirms that we were right to come here. That we must convince the khagan's forces to go northward after this. It is the only chance we stand of succeeding."

Aelin ran her hands through her hair.

Streams of blood stained the gold. "I cannot win against them. Against a Valg king and queen." Her voice turned to a rasp. "They have already won."

"They have not." And though Rowan hated each word, he growled, "And you survived two months against Maeve with no magic to protect you. Two months of a Valg queen trying to break into your head, Aelin. To break you."

Aelin shook. "She did, though." Rowan waited for it. Aelin whispered, "I wanted to die by the end, before she ever threatened me with the collar. And even now, I feel like someone has ripped me from myself. Like I'm at the bottom of the sea, and who I am, who I was, is far up at the surface, and I will never get back there again."

He didn't know what to say, what to do other than to gently pull her fingers from her palms.

"Did you buy the swagger, the arrogance?" she demanded, voice breaking. "Did the others? Because I've been trying to. I've been trying like hell to convince myself that it's real, reminding myself I only need to pretend to be how I was just long enough."

Long enough to forge the Lock and die.

He said softly, "I know, Aelin." He hadn't bought the winks and smirks for a heartbeat.

Aelin let out a sob that cracked something in him. "I can't feel me-myself anymore. It's like she snuffed it out. Ripped me from it. She, and Cairn, and everything they did to me." She gulped down air, and Rowan wrapped her in his arms and pulled her onto his lap. "I am so tired," she wept. "I am so, so tired, Rowan."

"I know." He stroked her hair. "I know." It was all there really was to say.

Rowan held her until her weeping eased and she lay still, nestled against his chest.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered

"You fight," he said simply. "We fight. Until we can't anymore. We fight."

She sat up, but remained on his lap, staring into his face with a rawness that destroyed him.

Rowan laid a hand on her chest, right over that burning heart. "Fireheart."

A challenge and a summons.

She placed her hand atop his, warm despite the frigid night. As if that fire had not yet gone out entirely. But she only gazed up at the stars.

To the Lord of the North, standing watch.

"We fight," she breathed.

Aelin found Fenrys by a quiet fire, gazing into the crackling flames.

She sat on the log beside him, raw and open and trembling, but … the salt of her tears had washed away some of it. Steadied her. Rowan had steadied her, and still did, as he kept watch from the shadows beyond the fire.

Fenrys lifted his head, his eyes as hollow as she knew hers had been.

"Whenever you need to talk about it," she said, her voice still hoarse, "I'm here."

Fenrys nodded, his mouth a tight line. "Thank you."

The camp was readying for their departure, but Aelin scooted closer, and sat beside him in silence for long minutes.

Two healers, marked only by the white bands around their biceps, hurried past, arms full of bandages. Aelin tensed. Focused on her breathing.

Fenrys marked her line of sight. "They were horrified, you know," he said quietly. "Every time she brought them in to … fix you."

The two healers vanished around a tent.

Aelin flexed her fingers, shaking the lightness from them. "It didn't stop them from doing it."

"They didn't have a choice."

She met his dark stare. Fenrys's mouth tightened. "No one would have left you in those states. No one."

Broken and bloody and burned—

She gripped Goldryn's hilt. Helpless.

"They defied her in their own way," Fenrys went on. "Sometimes, she'd order them to bring you back to consciousness. Often, they claimed they couldn't, that you'd fallen too deeply into oblivion. But I knew—I think Maeve did, too— that they put you there. For as long as possible. To buy you time."

She swallowed. "Did she punish them?"

"I don't know. It was never the same healers." Maeve likely had. Had likely ripped their minds apart for their defiance.

Aelin's grip tightened on the sword at her side.

Helpless. She had been helpless. As so many in this city, in Terrasen, in this continent, were helpless. Goldryn's hilt warmed in her hand.

She wouldn't be that way again. For whatever time she had left.

Gavriel padded up beside Rowan, took one look at the queen and Fenrys, and murmured, "Not the news we needed to hear."

Rowan closed his eyes for a heartbeat. "No, it was not."

Gavriel settled a hand on Rowan's shoulder.

"It changes nothing, in some ways."

"How."

"We served her. She was ... not what Aelin is. What a queen should be. We knew that long before we knew the truth. If Maeve wants to use what she is against us, to ally with Morath, then it changes things. But the past is over. Done with, Rowan. Knowing Maeve is Valg or just a wretched person doesn't change what happened."

"Knowing a Valg queen wants to enslave my mate, and nearly did so, changes a great deal."

"But we know what Maeve fears, why she fears it," Gavriel countered, his tawny eyes bright. "Fire, and the healers. If Maeve comes with that army of hers, we are not defenseless." It was true. Rowan could have cursed himself for not thinking of it already. Another question formed, though. "Her army," Rowan said. "It's made up of Fae."

"So was her armada," Gavriel said warily.

Rowan ran a hand through his hair. "Will you be able to live with it-fighting our own people?" Killing them.

"Will you?" Gavriel countered.

Rowan didn't answer.

Gavriel asked after a moment, "Why didn't Aelin offer me the blood oath?"

The male hadn't asked these weeks. And Rowan wasn't sure why Gavriel inquired now, but he gave him the truth. "Because she won't do it until Aedion has taken the oath first. To offer it to you before him ... she wants Aedion to take it first."

"In case he doesn't wish me to be near his kingdom."

"So that Aedion knows she placed his needs before her own."

Gavriel bowed his head. "I would say yes, if she offered."

"I know." Rowan clapped his oldest friend on the back. "She knows, too."

The Lion gazed northward. "Do you think ... we haven't heard any news from Terrasen."

"If it had fallen, if Aedion had fallen, we would know. People here would know."

Gavriel rubbed at his chest. "We've been to war. He's been to war. Fought on battlefields as a child, gods be damned." Rage flickered over Gavriel's face. Not at what Aedion had done, but what he'd been made to do by fate and misfortune. What Gavriel had not been there to prevent. "But I still dread every day that passes and we hear nothing. Dread every messenger we see."

A terror Rowan had never known, different from his fear for his mate, his queen. The fear of a father for his child.

He didn't allow himself to look toward Aelin. To remember his dreams while hunting for her. The family he'd seen. The family they'd make together.

"We must convince the khaganate royals to march northward when this battle is over," Gavriel swore softly.

Rowan nodded. "If we can smash this army tomorrow, and convince the royals that Terrasen is the only course of action, then we could indeed be heading north soon. You might be fighting at Aedion's side by Yulemas."

Gavriel's hands clenched at his sides, tattoos spreading over his knuckles. "If he will allow me that honor."

Rowan would make Aedion allow it. But he only said, "Gather Elide and Lorcan. The ruks are almost ready to depart."

[guiltyasreid]

guilty as sin? l spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings/tags: not really smut, mild cannon violence, theres a make out session ig, bau!reader, guns, word count: 772 a/n: i gen think this is what happens to me when I watch cm, I cannot help thinking about him when I listen to this song. lmk what you think :))

It all happened too fast. The day was going smoothly, usual paper work that made you stare into oblivion and dream of a better life, then you were out on a case. You couldn't remember how you and Spencer were standing in front of the unsub who had his gun trailed on Spencer. He wasn't wearing a vest. You were. Why wasn't he wearing a vest?

His finger twitched at the trigger, you didn't hesitate to step in front of Spencer. You didn't let the next shot fire as you tackled the unsub to the floor, the gun clattering away from them. The struggle was short as the tackle made him hit his head on the steps behind him. He was knocked out cold.

You couldn't breathe, your head was bleeding from knocking it against the wall.

Spencer was apparently calling your name out causing you to blink. You were sat on the back of an ambulance. The unsub had already been taken away, they were just cleaning up the scene now.

He clicked his fingers in front of your face causing you to blink again. "Why did you do that? You could've gotten seriously hurt."

Maybe it was because you had thumped your head, his words weren't registering. You watched his pink lips move, his arms were slightly bulging against his shirt, his long hair was swiped back. He looked as though he'd just fallen out of your deepest fantasies.

He called our your name again. You blinked again. "You weren't wearing a vest." You replied. "If you were shot you could've died, I've only got some bruised ribs."

"A shot from that range could've gone through your vest, it could've been fatal for you. What if the bullet was a little higher?..." He continued speaking, it was drowned out by your thoughts of how would his lips feel pressed upon yours, or his hands touching any part of you. It was like your dreams were coming true when his hands fell on your thighs to lean towards your face.

"You can't do that again..." his voice drowned out again. All you could think of was how his hands were causing your entire body to freeze up.

They covered the entire whith of your thighs, they were calloused, and even though your trousers you could feel the heat emiting from his body. He was nearly inches from your face. You could feel his breath.

Suddenly, he leaned in kissing your lips, humming against them. Your entire body twitched, your hands going up to his hair, his hands slid their way further up your thighs, maneuvering towards your hips.

Your legs opened upcausing him to take a step forward, you moaned as he squeezed your hip. This prompted him to deepen the kiss, a hand going up to the nape of your neck. Holding you as if you were going to stop this moment.

You tugged on his curls causing him to let out a groan, as if he wanted to become one with you, his entire body was pressed up against you, the kiss was passionate and quick, as if you couldn't get enough of eachother.

He moved for your lips, towards your neck, your name slipping out his mouth, a kiss to under your jaw that made you shiver. He spoke your name again this time with more grit. Kissing a trail further down.

Your name was spoken again.

You blinked as Spencer gritted his teeth at your behaviour. His hands were still on your thighs. "Are you listening?"

"I am, sorry." You shook your head trying to get out of your own thoughts. "It won't happen again, I was just trying to protect you." You gave him a breathy chuckle. He patted your knee leaning back and standing up.

"As much as I don't want you to, I would've done the same thing in your position." He gave you a small smile. "Thank you."

"Anytime." You smiled back, he gave you another smile before walking away. You leaned against the ambulance and sighed, watching him talking to Hotch. His ran a hand through his hair. Your eyes softened, running your eyes over his entire figure.

"I'm not sure how pretty boy doesn't notice." Your head snapped towards Derek who was snickering at your love-sick face. You rolled your eyes. "You look at him like you're going to jump his bones."

"I do not." You scoffed back, jumping off the ambulance, handing back the blanket to the EMT.

"I saw your face when he touched yo-" You shoved Derek who just started laughing harder as you walked away.

[axvwriter]

Jaxon is a cool name but I'm possibly biased for names that sound 'sharp' and/or have like x, y, and z in them. Wait I'm totally biased for x considering my "X-Experiments". Six characters all named X basically and choose names for themselves starting with X.

Sorry I'm about to ramble but I just wanna share a bit about my process for naming characters

Not giving a character a name until you have all the details worked out actually sounds pretty smart. Bobo was originally a drawing I made of a little girl with a big hammer that loves sweets. Just a random design that I left sitting for the longest time until I decided she'd fit this princess character when I was reading some fanfiction (as I don't like to insert myself into x readers) and I misremembered the name as Bobo. The name for this random character design was Bebe. Then a few years later as I was contemplating trying out Twisted Wonderland is when I actually started to develop Bobo along with the idea of an underground mushroom kingdom.

But every now and then I feel slight anguish for choosing Bobo as her name. As not only does it feel a bit lame as a name for a princess, I can't help but think "Bobo the clown" along with the mental image of that person putting on a clown wig and makeup while looking sad. But I'm too attached to that being her name to try finding a better name.

When it comes to me picking names I have several different ways I go about it. Either a random name or a word that doesn't really exist comes to me. If I have an idea for a meaning behind the name I'll look up names that mean this word or that word but if that doesn't work then I might just look at a list of names starting with a letter that's starts the same as a meaning I wanted to get. Sometimes I just look through a list of names and their meanings for ideas. Though there are a few times where I'll take several words and mash them together to form a name. Usually just being meanings I want associated with the character, names with those meanings, or just a collection of names I like but I don't want to use any single one.

Though I think most of the time I design the visuals of the character then try to find a name, but I usually get ideas for the character while drawing them. Then there's a few times where I have the character spinning about in my head because I haven't gotten around to drawing them and sometimes just able to think of names for them since they're sitting there waiting anyway.

(Please don't ask for the fanfiction that made me think of Bobo in a princess role as 1. I don't recall the name but I think it was on Quotev? 2. I'm a bit embarrassed by it but you have to understand sometimes I look up certain fanfictions simply because I need to know if anyone has written any 'x reader' stuff for this or that character.)

Why did you choose the name Jaxon? Just because it sounded cool or a deeper reason?

-🪿

lmaoo this is going to reveal some of the horrors of my writing process but here we go!

So when I'm creating an oc they actually all start out with my name so in the beginning, Jaxon was actually Ryker. It's only until after the rest of the outline for the oc is finished (personality, backstory, role, etc.) that I finally choose a name for them. This is partially because I'm lazy, but it's also because then I get to choose a name that I think fits them well since I now have a better idea of what they're like

So when the time came that I wanted to share Jaxon on my blog, I scrolled though a list of 1,000 names until I found one I was satisfied with. I actually ended up liking the name Jaxon a lot and thought it fit him well, so that's the name I went with!

[ark-fork]

Feel free to ask!

(Low quality master-post)

Hello! My name is Ark Forger.

This is my main blog that focused on absolutely random fandoms fan-arts, own settings and OCs. (OCs mostly, actually).

I love creating some character designs (this is the one thing that I can do in best way)~ ALSO I can do not only character designs, but also an AU stuff! ((This is such a messy blog with some random ideas))

About:

I have a looot fandoms in my life. Sometimes I think theres too many of them actually. Randomly hyper fixation? yes please. Dont drug me in to another fandom please, my pc's folders are literally gonna explode. SO.

There's small list of fandoms that I know more than 50% of info:

Made in Abyss; FNaF; SU; Poppy Playtime; TADC; DND; MLP; HI3; GI; HSR; Ava's Demon; Hollow Knight; (Skyrim, Oblivion... PLS SENT HELP); Madoka magica; ...(theres more but im tired to try remember about all of it)

Im also doing spontan stuff like "podcasts" because me or my friends are fucking tired about something, so, I just speaking.

STUFF:

Support me: [🔥Boosty] - requests ✅ ONLY SKETCH | commissions 🙅

My sona ref sheet: [bap]

Tips:

Links in post not working?

Podcast:

1: [The one who demand add\draw their OCs in your AU\Own world setting]

2: [Your pain is not a blogger's problem]

3: [💌Love letters; 👨‍🌾content farm]

=----=

🎪 [@dhl-au - The Digital Horror Land AU page]

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Hey, I followed you a while back because I'm in love with your elder scrolls art and Josh specifically and I LOVE when someone gets really into worldbuilding. Do you have a ranking for how much you like/enjoy the elder scrolls races, or just which ones are your favorite?

Hello Anon, thanks for the ask <3 Simply put, I'm a completely exclusive Resdayn simp. I would definitely put Dunmer at the very top of my list. There's just so much about them that appeals to me lore-wise. I studied West and Central Asian History for a long time and I still find it fun that a lot of places in Morrowind (as well as most of the Ashlanders) have Assyrian based names (which is based in Akkadian that I've got a solid background in) but 0 of the meaning behind them is utilised. Anything that begins with Ashur (Assur) for example refers to revering the national god of the Assyrians. I've kinda tried to work that into my Ashlander's belief system with Ashur being a great hero. With Dunmer I kinda have a ranking- I love Ashlanders and have worked a fair bit on their world building with the goal of making them more significant within the Nerevarine's story than they end up being in game. Particularly the Urshilaku, who really should be more central given they kinda have a cult around the Nerevarine. I also have done a lot with House Hlaalu because I find the idea of them to be interesting. Greed above all else does make for an interesting antagonist. The Redoran are the next Great House i'm slowly building, with a lot of references to Japanese history. I want each House to have a distinct culture and I also do this with the Ashlander Tribes. Naturally, I also really like the Chimer and Dwemer for the same reasons that I love Dunmer. I'm a history dork. I'm basing Dwemeri culture heavily off of Akkad and the Chimer off of the Third Dynasty of Ur and the Indus. I have a fun HC about Nerevar that leads me to... the Ayleids

I got really into the Ayleids in 2013 when I sat down and played through Oblivion for the first time (I couldn't afford video games much as a kid) and I found it for $11 AU at JB one day and snapped it up because I loved Skyrim so much. I fell in love with the lore surrounding the Ayleids and just Mer in general I guess. I have played as a Bosmer and a Breton before but I always come back to Dunmer. They just play into all my other interests way too much and I love their overall look. Also theres so much Dune in there (another fictional interest of mine) that i'm surprised they didn't throw in Shai Halud.

I'm kinda a one track mind sort of person XD

[addicsvt]

reflections of the cursed

pairing - ghost jun x reader? genre - horror, a bit of romance? word count - 578 warnings - nothing atm (pls tell me if theres something) synopsis - you fell into jun's trap, what now? a/n - i genuinely SUCK at writing horror and this is probably horrible so please don't bash me haha okay pls enjoy 😭

You knew something was wrong when you entered this haunted house. It was creepy. Not in the conventional way, but something wasn't right. It all started with your friends practically begging you to go with them to experience an exotic haunted house with 5-star reviews (according to Google). So you reluctantly went, but as soon as you set foot in the house, you felt a strange aura. Indescribable.

As you walked past the first room, you noticed a mirror in the corner. A small mirror resting on a stool. You walked closer, drawn. Something was luring you in. Your palm eventually made contact with the mirror feeling a jolt of freezing cold shock as the sensation ran through your palm. What was that...?

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your friends long gone, you whisked them away telling them that you’d just stay in this room and they could come back once they were done with the whole house. Your reflection in the mirror flickered until it wasn’t your reflection anymore. It was someone else's. A man’s.

You stared in shock, the man was beautiful. He had almond moon-shaped eyes, orbs luring you in, daring you to take a chance. His pitch black hair framing his angular face, contributing to his already perfect-like appearance. You suddenly felt breathless, you wanted to reach further. 

Suddenly, the glass did not feel like glass anymore. Your hand felt a sense of lightness, you felt confused. What was this? Why could you reach further? The boundary of the glass long gone. Everything felt more personal.The room around you began to blur, colours melting into darkness as the mirror’s surface pulled you closer. You saw the man further behind, if you went fully through the glass you would be able to get closer to him. It felt like the man was ushering you in, into the dark depths. Into the side where there would be no way out, no way to scream for help. 

As you pushed further, a sensation spread through your body, an odd lightness replaced by a sinking feeling in your stomach. Here you now stood, surrounded by darkness. The room of the haunted house is gone. You were inside the mirror now. No way to call for help, trapped into this seemingly infinite void. The man was gone. The man was never there. You were fooled. Lured and fooled. Now you resided here, screaming knowing that no one will ever hear you, banging on the infinite walls. 

Curled up in the fetal position you give up. You’ve fallen victim to the trap. You were now to be here, be here till you died. Stuck in a void of emptiness, surrounded by blackness. You don’t bother opening your eyes anymore, there would be nothing to see.You should’ve never crossed the other side. You should’ve never tested the waters of another realm. You should’ve stayed curious. You should’ve never fallen into your desires. What did it cost you? Your soul. 

Now you would stand here, luring bystanders into this sick trap, drawing them to the other side and erasing their presence from the world. This was your role now, to lead them into oblivion. Every single memory of you wiped clean, leaving no trace behind. No one would know your name; you would become no one. The silence would consume you, and in that void, your existence would fade, leaving only the echo of what once was.

ADDICSVT 2024

[wingsofachampion]

(From @maskless-oblivion)

Hey, aurorus! I have some things i wanna say to you!

I respect your culture with the special names and all, let’s get that clear right now! But you can’t force this world to act like yours! To put it in your perspective, thats like if someone from this world came to yours and tried to force people to go by their special names! It wouldnt be fair! You’d feel hurt if the shoe was on the other foot, right? The way you talk to people is being mean to the traditions of THIS world!

And i just wanna say, i think what you said about people picking out their names and not having the right was really mean and buttheaded! I picked out the name Pompon (and don’t you dare be like oh no youve gotta go by ogerpon) because i wanted to be DIFFERENT from other ogerpon! All the ogerpon i know are girls and i didnt want to be a girl so i decided i could have a special name for myself! And rand didnt want ro be a lady so he picked the name rand! The name he was supposed to go by made him feel bad! If you tood him he had to go by something else, thatd be controlling and make him feel worse, i think!

When it comes down to it, how you treat Aurorava, how you talk down to EVERYONE from what i can see, youre just being a bully! And even though i’m not like most ogerpon, theres one thing my sisters and i can agree on!

We have ways of dealing with bullies.

And, to Aurorava, if you see this first.

Sorry for ranting in your messages. Your mom is just being so mean! I have to say something!

I see.

I will no longer ask those native to this world to engage in my traditions, but I will not engage in the traditions of this world.

And I will still be bringing my daughter home.

[y6zs]

Hm… suspicious man

He has Wes Johnson as a voice, he looks like this and if you rearrange the letters in his name it spells out “lord sheogorath”. BUT also,…. He is not the “true”/original Sheogorath. since The Elder Scrolls Blades takes place after the Oblivion Crisis, this Sheogorath is the Hero of Kvatch/Champion of Cyrodiil, just like in Skyrim. theres barely anything online abt this game but the UESP confirms that this is indeed Sheogorath

Fun fun facts 😋 (i myself also have a HoK oc, so i like to imagine that this and the skyrim sheo is just my oc, and funnily enough their personalities even match)

also Sheogorath is my all time favourite TES character heh 😼

[mitchika]

WAIT WAIT! Same anon who asked about Girl!Oblivion before BUT! Is Girl!Oblivion a retcon (so that Oblivion was always a girl) or is Oblivion transgender now? (Maybe that explains why they were such a recluse haha) 👀 What's the in-universe story here, if there is one?

I wouldnt make a retcon that hard, it would affect more than just their relationship with Ino - i run a Simspons timeline for most of my universes so things only update when they have to (and if i care). (Theres no Curse of Alton, The Retro Squad doesnt exist and Nemesis Reborn isnt a thing).

Girl Oblivion is most definately his sister with a name that still sounds like Oblivion, probably Olli Bon so i dont have to throw away the original Levi Bon. The only time i hard redesigned someone was Wendolin, she was an old man but that became her dad and she got a new body to rival Rita...

But i doubt i'd go ahead with it because i dont really care about Oblivion enough to give it that much thought and effort. I've not really been feeling Alton Towers-y the last couple months anyway. All my thoughts have been going towards my own OCs or Pleasurewood Hills.

[trollblivion-ooc]

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT ALL CANON TO THE CURRENT STORY- I MADE THIS WHEN I WAS STILL MAKING THINGS UP!

THIS IS A PLOT DRAFT this is just something ive had in my drafts for a while !!!!

depicts probably canon topics in homestuck (typical death and injury.)

start: (still partially canon to the original timeline though (before endur))

Dream Sequence: Xxxxxx Lumeni: EO @enduring-oblivion

=> Your Name Is AKRINE LUMENI

(Original Timeline)

YOU are a GOLDBLOOD but previously thought you were a pure VIOLETBLOOD. Your morail is NORAXI AFROND, she is a BRONZEBLOOD.

This far caste relationship is RARE in this area, you two are prone to being picked at by a certain PURPLEBLOOD, who happens to have an issue with being violent and antagonistic.

Right now, that shithead PURPLEBLOOD named VIEVNA FISSUS is picking on your bull

What do you do?

=> Watch What Happens

You watch what happens, as you are currently too far away to deal with this prick right now, besides, your bull could handle herself.

Shes strong and confident and you have all faith in her to take care of this, thats what she usually does anyway when youre in the sea.

She is very beautiful and wonderful and your everything and you cannot live without her. especially after everything shes done for you.

She could handle herself.

Until she couldnt.

There Vievna was, tearing apart your bull, after having said vile words about her mark that you gave her of your golden heart symbol, which she was so proud of.

The mark that Vievna has slashed apart.

Which she loved. Oh, did she love

There she was being torn apart, wonderful bronze blood spilling onto the beautiful sand. and water

Thats all you can really focus on other than the soft wavering reflection of the pink moon on the edge of the sea behind her.

You are not frozen.

=> Get Him

You rush at him in a blind rage, pressure building in your temples underneath the skin of your lower pair of horns.

Those damned HORNS

You punch his face as hard as you can , ripping him away from your dearly beloved, who is quite silent for someone who just got mauled.

You punched him too hard,

M•YBE NOT H•RD ENOUGH!

The skin on your knuckles peel from the jab, gold waves of blood dripping out.

You look at his stupid fucking horns, that snake.

TH•T SN•KE!

=> Grab

You grab onto his right horn as hard as you can and you-

SNAP IT OFF!

You snap it off of his stupid head.

You hear shouts somewhere near you, yelling, calls

“Hey!” “+ holly shit !” “S0me0ne fucking st0b him!”

The pressure near your temples is building so much but you don’t care. You can only see red.

You’re going to kill him.

You’re going to tear him apart for what he did.

Do it.

Do it.

Do it!

And you do.

You push him down

Near you, theres a sound meek and small but concerned, it doesn’t matter.

I he•r-

You hear an awful shattering sound right next to your facial fins, and feel a weight lift of you, pressure relieving from your temples.

Something horribly loud comes from the sky.

Rushing sounds of something else come from around you.

It doesn’t matter.

You’re about to bite off his face when- suddenly the sky changes in an instant, your feetpaws feel wet

Screaming, theres screaming around you, and another concerned and horrified sound.

No, a word.

€ Akr!…?

You glance and through your red haze you see-

And suddenly you can see again

And you look around

There are shards of… horn floating in the water nearby. you feel something sticky on your face, touching it and looking at your paw.

Gold shimmering liquid. you’re bleeding. you bring your hand higher.

pawing the air near your temples.

The empty air.

Your second pair of horns are gone.

Thats what you wanted right?

You shattered them with your rage somehow.

You didnt know you could do that.

You step closer to your bull, she looks wrong, wrong like youve never seen before, shaky and faint.

That golden heart of yours is almost gone from her skin.

You grab her shoulders, ignoring the water W•tr? that consumes your legs as you kneel down to your beloved.

Its like her eyes were turning white, you look around and-

a rainbow of colors in the water thats flooding in. bodies floating.

did…

did you do this? how did you do this?

=> Look Up

oh.

the moon.

youve broken it.

But violetbloods c•nt-

Youre not a violetblood, Akrine

What did you do.

I dont know- i-

Akrine.

…Yes?

Look down

….Oh.. oh no.. i-

Nor•?

You blew up the sky

I dont c•re- Nor•???

Stop shaking her, shes not going to wake up

Wh•t?????

Do you feel tired?

I do but-

Sleep.

=> Sleep

You wake up. you see a small troll that almost looks like you, it’s kind of funny, really.

Hes running around next to her lusus, isnt that cute?

Where is everyone?

Dont worry about that right now, can you stay with him for me?

With who?

The troll that looks almost like you in a funny way

I-…ok•y

Thank you, Remnant.

=> Hello Endur!

Im going to s•ve her

[varlaisvea]

hi im asking despite my embarrassment. so theres this one off npc. uhmm 👉👈 her name is nerise venim, she's a professional alchemist but in her quest she gets mistaken for a witch, you'll see what i mean if you look her up. she's kind of. haughty? looks down her nose at ppl. but ngl im a complete lesbian for her and idk if theres much if any fics on her so im asking for a Little indulgence bc i rly like your prose 🥺

(This is re: my offer to write fic about ESO NPCs. Offer’s still good, though…)

IT HAS BEEN A MONTH AND A HALF SINCE YOU SENT THIS. I AM SO SORRY! There’s been Stuff, and also, truthfully, I’ve gotten really stuck on the sexy part of this. Smut is already harder for me than I’d like, and on top of it, I think where I ended up going with this is different from what you wanted.

THAT SAID THOUGH, I still wanted to do something for you :) I redid this quest and I too am very gay for Nerise Venim! So, I decided not to let my writer’s cockblock (gn) stop me from at least posting the first part of the story. Hopefully it’s a nice tale on its own? No promises, but I’ll keep fighting with the sexy part 🫡 And THANK YOU so much for your kind words!!

————-

Words: 1.9k Rating: Mature (allusions to sex and sex toys, mention of alcoholism) Characters: Dunmer Vestige, Mirri Elendis, Nerise Venim

——

With Vivec City in our sights now, I feel a strange anxiety in my center. I stop to take in the view of the city, the sea, and Baar Dau. “I can’t stop thinking about that Nerise Venim.”

“Oh, she was incredible, wasn’t she?” Mirri says. “Killing goblins felt even better knowing I was doing it for her. Seht knows I don’t take orders well, but somehow I found myself wishing she’d push me around a little.” Mirri meets my eyes and with a guilty little grin. “I… hope that’s what you meant.”

I sigh. “It is. She was intimidating, in that hello muthsera sort of way.” 

Mirri nods, and we stare at the Vivec City skyline for several long silent moments.

“Heh, I should have let one of those goblins knick me, so I could be injured enough for one of her upscale unguents.”

Mirri stares at me. “Sometimes I forget that you grew up Velothi.” She chuckles. “And in Stormhold.”

“What does that mean?” We start walking again. 

“Dunmer controlled Stormhold for much of your life, it’s true, but it was never a Dunmeri city. If you’d come of age in Vivec, or Balmora, or Mournhold, or even in your Ashlander clan, you’d have some idea about expensive upscale unguents to be sold to discerning clients.” 

“I guess I don’t know what exactly an unguent is.”

“Ah,” Mirri says, nodding. “Well, if I didn’t have experience with upscale unguents, I wouldn’t know either, but: one common synonym is lubricant.”

“Ah.”

The rest of our walk to Vivec City is mostly spent in comfortable silence, and we have a beautiful view of the Temple and the sun setting over the Inner Sea. To avoid some of the construction, we take the long way, past the silt strider station and the traders on the outskirts of town.

We’re walking through the crafting plaza when Mirri stops. “I bet I know where she’s selling her wares.”

“Ha, are you in the market?”

Mirri raises her eyebrows at me. “Irrelevant,” she says with a grin. “I meant… if you’re still thinking about her, maybe you could… see if she has any plans this evening.” She hesitates, then adds, “or… we could.” Mirri meets my eyes with slight unease. We love each other, of course, as one comes to love anyone who has fought by their side through Oblivion and back. We both feel pretty strongly that we work best as friends and adventuring partners, but we share sleeping arrangements regularly, and we’re adventurers, so of course, just like with several of my other regular traveling companions, we relieve one another’s tensions from time to time, or watch each other relieve tensions. Sometimes one of us helps the other pick up an evening companion who catches our eye… but we’ve never done it together.

I look down at my boots.

“Ah, just a thought!” Mirri stammers. “I’m sorry, friend, if that was over the line—”

“Mirri,” I don’t want to laugh at her, but I’m laughing at her. “I didn’t even say anything! As soon as you said that, I wondered why we’d never done it before.”

Mirri laughs, trying to sound calm but obviously relieved. “I thought the same thing. I’ve never had a threesome.”

“Really?” I do not hide my shock very well, and Mirri looks adorably sheepish. “Well, now we have to try.”

“I agree!” She grins and lays her hand on my hip. “And now that we’ve been thinking of this for as long as we have, I believe even if she declines, you and I will have a lovely evening, no?”

I lay a hand on her forearm and lean my head against hers for a moment. “Obviously.” We start walking toward the bridge. 

Mirri does know exactly where to find Nerise Venim, and it turns out, I know the place too—on our way in, Mirri and I wonder aloud, for the second time today, why we haven’t been broadening our exploration of common interests. The shop is run by Telvanni-trained mycoturges who specialize in a craft that’s been honed over many generations: strong, flexible, and very pleasurably-shaped fungi, preserved with Altmeri preservation enchantments for easy cleaning. The proprietor claims Vekh himself shops here, and while I’m not sure I believe that, this particular shop does have the best selection in Vivec City, and a wide variety of accessories.

Nerise has a small booth just inside the shop. She’s not serving anyone right now, but evidently things can get busy here—there’s a sign a short distance in front of the booth that says to ensure privacy for all, please wait behind this sign. Even out in the wilds, Nerise was dressed in noble finery and carried herself like a Grandmaster, and here in the shop, she looks regal; someone the rich and powerful trust with their secrets. If she claimed Vekh himself preferred her upscale unguents, I might believe her.

She smiles slyly as we approach. “Came looking for me, did you?” 

I nod. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She raises an eyebrow, and I return her smile, hopefully with an air of casual ease. “We had to know what happened with Stromgruf.” 

“Ha!” Nerise claps her hands together. “Well he’s got pants now, at least, and—thank the Mercymother—I don’t have to deal with him anymore.” She leans across the counter conspiratorially. “If you can believe it, Stromgruf actually thanked me; even apologized for calling me a witch and endangering my livelihood! And that sword I bought him? He practically begged to trade it back for some vials of Potion Of Transform Into Guar For A Day Or So. Said he hadn’t thought once about getting blackout drunk while he was a guar.” She sighs. “Ayem knows the bottle is a far stricter mistress than some angry witch.”

Mirri, now standing outside of Nerise’s view, fans herself dramatically at that. I continue on bravely as if unaffected. “Please; you’re more than some angry witch,” I say. “You turned a Nord into a guar and he begged for more—it takes quite an alchemist to cook up something so potent and pleasurable.”

Nerise meets my eyes with a haughty smirk. “You’re damned right.” She pauses, then smiles serenely. “Now, can I interest you in something… potent and pleasurable?”

“That’s exactly what we came here to find,” I say, somehow managing not to stammer. “Do you have any plans for this evening?”

“Ha!” Nerise looks genuinely charmed. “My only plans are to find an inn room and count my coin. Hmph, look at me; do you think I slum it with adventurers?” She smiles, stern but amused, and meets my eyes to let me know her question was not rhetorical.

I laugh nervously. “Ah—heh. Ah, you—“

Mirri—as she often does—sees me faltering, and steps in. “Come now, sera, I think classifying my friend as merely an adventurer would bury the lede somewhat, don’t you?” Nerise crosses her arms and smiles with eyebrows raised, and Mirri meets her eyes and matches her pose. “We both know you’re worldly enough to have immediately recognized one of Tamriel’s great heroes when you met us earlier today,” Mirri says. “But, message received—it is a bit uncouth of us to make overtures while you’re at work. Apologies; we’ll leave you to your unguents.”

Mirri nods toward the door for us to leave, but Nerise says, “people make overtures all the time in my line of work—occasionally, I even find it intriguing rather than utterly laughable.” She smirks and meets Mirri’s eyes, then mine, and then there is a long, heavy silence. 

“You’re not laughing,” I point out.

“I try not to make a habit of it,” Nerise says, her expression hardening. 

Mirri and I exchange a glance—something about the way Nerise said that seems to have given us both pause.

Mirri drops her smirk. “It’s been rough for you of late, hasn’t it?” she says, now sincere and cautious. “Not just all the business with Stromgruf, but… things were hard well before the goblin situation, I’d wager.” Nerise presses her lips together and maintains her stare, but says nothing. “I come from a big family,” Mirri says, “I know what it looks like when someone has a lot of people depending on them, a lot of weight on their shoulders.” 

Nerise looks away and swallows hard. “Nothing I can’t handle,” she says.

“But wouldn’t it be good to set it down for a while?” I ask. Nerise turns to me, gaze stony and head held high, waiting for me to say more. “Don’t you get sick of cleaning up all the messes, keeping an eye on every variable, holding everything together for everyone around you?“ 

She stares at me, clenching her jaw. 

I meet her gaze, smiling, and ask, “don’t you ever wish someone else could take control; let you rest your mind, let yourself feel?”

Nerise stares at me for a long moment, jaw clenched and eyes glossy. She nods once. Mirri nudges me from behind. All three of us know what that nod meant.

I smile. “Wouldn’t it be good for someone to take care of you, for once, Nerise?”

She meets my eyes with something approaching vulnerability, then crosses her arms and looks away. “I doubt you’re up to the task.” 

Mirri lays her hand on the counter. “You doubt we’re up to the task?” 

Nerise stares at Mirri, then at me. After a long pause, she says, “I’ve got a lot to do here.” She continues staring back and forth at Mirri and me, as if she’s trying to say something without saying it.

“… I own the penthouse at St. Delyn’s Waistworks,” I say finally. 

Nerise is quiet for a few moments. “I’ll see how I feel later,” she says, her tone giving nothing away. 

“Fair enough,” says Mirri, suddenly chipper. “For now, we’ll stick to business.” Not far away from Nerise’s booth is a shelf of merchandise, and Mirri points to one of the mushrooms; long and thick with subtle ridges at the top. “I’ve got one like this back at the penthouse. What would you use to help it go down nice and easy?”

Nerise rolls her eyes and sighs, but says, “I usually recommend—“

“Bring it with you,” Mirri says, and turns to walk away, grabbing my arm to bring me along.

Nerise once again rolls her eyes and sighs, obviously having expected Mirri to say something like that. But she says, “I should tell you, I don’t go down without a fight. I’m rarely nice and never easy.”

Mirri grins. “Of course. See you soon.”

When we get outside, we’re giggling like kids. “That was awesome!” I say. “I didn’t know what to do—I just followed your lead! Very sexy, I have to say.” I affectionately bump Mirri with my hip.

“Thank you, sera,” Mirri says, bowing her head. “I may be inexperienced with threesomes, but let’s just say I have some idea of how to get people like Nerise Venim to unravel.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “She seemed a bit aloof about it all. You really think she’ll come over?”

“Oh, I suspect she will,” Mirri says coolly. “People like her need to hold onto the air of dominance right up until they’re on their backs—and from there it’s short work to get them on their knees.”