#the elder scrolls fluff

[gloomwitchwrites]

Lavender: Part Two

Brynjolf x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), oral sex (female receiving), breeding undertones, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 2.6k

After accepting Brynjolf’s marriage proposal, the two of you receive some long-awaited alone time since binding yourselves together under Mara’s eye.

Part One

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

A strong breeze kicks up, rattling the side of the small cabin. A fire burns in the hearth, warm and strong, filling the space with light. The sun is all but gone. Your belly is full. And for once, you aren’t afraid. You are not stressed. There is no impending doom or subtle tension.

Tightening the wool blanket around your shoulders, you gaze into the fire, reflecting on the last few weeks. When you finally accepted Brynjolf’s proposal, he went to the Temple of Mara, and fetched a priestess like he said he would. The two of you bound yourselves together in matrimony.

Then it was done. Over. And your new life began.

The moment you sealed yourself to Brynjolf, the entire atmosphere changed within the Thieves Guild. They dropped their cold demeanors, greeting you with warm smiles and congratulations. The only member who didn’t seem to change at all was Vex, her icy exterior retaining a firm hold. At first, you believed she didn’t like you, but then you quickly realized that she’s sour with almost everyone.

You were not allowed to leave the cistern unless chaperoned, and while that bothered you at the time, you grew used to the routine. Brynjolf never waived in communicating how your mother and aunt fared in Solitude. He made sure to hand over any letters or pieces of communication, and whenever you longed to leave the cistern, Brynjolf would bring you with him to the market.

But all things end, and when Mercer Frey offered up a small retreat for you and Brynjolf to escape to for a bit, the two of you snatched it up without question. In Thieves Guild headquarters, there is nowhere private, and while you and Brynjolf tried to find a bit of quiet, it was ultimately difficult.

Every time you or Brynjolf tried to initiate anything, someone would appear as if sensing the intimacy.

Now, the two of you are alone. Truly alone.

Not simply as friends or lovers, but as husband and wife.

“Lass.”

Brynjolf’s hushed and husky voice drifts over to you. Turning away from the fire, you find him reclined on the bed. He is entirely bare except for a fur blanket covering his groin. The light from the fire casts a warm glow across his skin. Brynjolf bends one knee and lightly taps the bed beside him.

“Come to bed,” he croons, and your legs move without question. It is instinct to do so.

Approaching the side of the bed, your drop the blanket, revealing a thin shift. The chill air instantly pebbles your nipples and Brynjolf’s gaze drops to your breasts. It is a heated look, one that instantly pulls a slickness from your core.

Slowly, you lift your leg, planting one knee on the bed. Leaning forward, you place both hands on the soft bedding, and then lift your other leg. Brynjolf’s emerald eyes flash, his chest expanding and deflating quickly, nostrils flaring. With deliberate slowness, you slide over to him, keeping your gaze glued to his face. Brynjolf watches you the entire time. There is hunger lingering in the depths of his stare.

When you come to rest against his right side, Brynjolf reaches out, cupping your cheek with one hand. He doesn’t say anything. Simply touches. Caresses. Observers. The middle of his brow creases slightly and then softens. That kissable mouth of his turns upward, and there is so much love there it momentarily zaps your autonomy from you.

You would give Brynjolf anything in this moment.

“Do you remember the first time?” he asks.

“The first time?” you reply hesitantly, not sure you understand.

Brynjolf laughs softly. “You know.”

Your cheeks heat, sudden realization dawning. “Oh. Yes.”

Dropping his hand from your cheek, Brynjolf leans back into the bedding. “I was nervous. Excited.” He chuckles. “Couldn’t stay hard.”

“Or inside me,” you add with a smirk.

Brynjolf laughs, the sound of it sweet. “Aye. What a mess I was.”

“Are you telling me you’re nervous, husband?” you tease, placing one hand on his bare chest. He is warm beneath your palm, and you cannot help yourself. You stroke slowly, savoring his heat.

“Hardly,” he replies, his own hand grasping yours. Brynjolf brings your palm up to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. “I’ll be better.”

“Truly?”

Brynjolf’s amused grin widens as your teasing tone. One moment you’re reclining beside him and the next you’re on your back.

“Bryn!” you exclaim, but he has you pinned.

“If we married when he did,” he murmurs. “We’d have ourselves an army by now.”

You gasp and smack his chest. With how much space you have, the strike is weak, but it’s not meant to hurt.

“Don’t like the truth, lass?” he croons, head dipping slightly as if to kiss you.

“You’re terrible,” you reply, smiling.

Brynjolf grins. “You take that back.”

“Make me.”

The words leave your mouth and you cannot snatch them out of the air. You cannot shove them back down your throat.

Brynjolf’s grin grows wider, and you know in this moment that you’ve lost.

His mouth comes down on yours with a fierceness that steals all breath. It is suffocating. Intense. And so different from all the kisses you’ve ever received before, even from him. His large hands roam over the thin shift until your skin is buzzing, as if bees have made a home there. When he retreats it is agony, a staunch shattering that longs to be repaired.

“We have years to catch up on,” he murmurs against your lips, tongue darting out to tease.

“Then we best get started,” you reply, just as softly.

Brynjolf groans and comes back for more. It is sweet like an apple tart with extra sugar. Brynjolf will rot your teeth at this rate, but you’d hardly care even if he did.

His hands slip under the thin shift, bunching the fabric around your hips. The fur blanket that covers his cock is gone and his nakedness is apparent. It presses on your lower abdomen and you flex your hips up to bring him level with your entrance.

Brynjolf’s fingers dig into your thighs as his cock slides through your sex. “Not yet.”

Brynjolf releases your thighs and places both hands on the bed, pushing up to a seated position. His cock stands at attention, nearly meeting his belly button. Every muscle of his is on display, and you long to taste and lick each one.

Years. It’s been years, and your body still craves him like it did before.

“Off,” he says, and it is a command. His red hair lightly brushes over his shoulders as he shifts slightly on his knees.

Your fingers find the neckline but hesitate. It’s not because you’re scared or frightened of him, but because this makes it all the more real. The two of you are bound together under Mara’s blessing.

Brynjolf’s gaze softens. “Want my help, lass?”

Heat rises to your cheeks as you ease the neckline over one shoulder and then the other. It falls to your waist, revealing your breasts. Brynjolf is right there, reaching to help ease the shift down your legs.

When you are bare to him, Brynjolf groans. His hands return to your thighs and you part them, wanting him closer. Brynjolf briefly straightens, drawing back slightly, the tips of his fingers grazing over your inner thighs.

At first, you think he’s pulling away from you, but he only wants to admire, to gaze on your body for a bit.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Those emerald eyes of his darken. “Wife,” he whispers, as if he’s testing it out.

“Wife,” you repeat back to him.

His chest heaves. “Finally.”

Brynjolf surges forward. One hand presses into the bed by your head while his other grasps your hip. Your mouths connect, and the liquid fire returns, roaring through blood and bone until you’re drowning. All these years you’ve waited and resisted, believing that loving him would only ruin him. How wrong you were. This man is enthralled. It’s clear from every touch and kiss.

Brynjolf breaks away only to return his mouth to your skin. He kisses your jaw and the curve of your neck. He moves down to your collarbone and then between your breasts. Brynjolf descends further over your stomach and stops just above your sex.

You are still spread completely, legs forced apart by his expansive shoulders, entirely open for his view. Brynjolf’s gaze is locked on your sex. He is fixated, and when he finally glances up, his pupils are blown.

“May I taste my wife?” he asks, voice rough with lust. Brynjolf slides back a bit, forcing your legs over each of his broad shoulders. His mouth hovers just above your pussy.

“You may,” you reply, voice soft, almost inaudible.

The corner of Brynjolf’s mouth quirks into a smile. His head dips, breath hot against your slickness. It draws forth a shiver, one that has him groaning against your inner thigh. Brynjolf’s lips hover there, pressing lightly on your soft skin.

“No squirming,” he says before gently biting.

It’s not painful, more of a surprise that has you seeking refuge away from his mouth.

“Oh shove it, Bryn,” you mutter.

He laughs, and then his tongue is on you.

It is not tentative. Not hesitant. It’s not like the first time when the two of you stumbled through the motions. This is completely different. Completely other. Brynjolf is sure of himself, as if he’s known your body all his life, and he knows exactly what you need.

His tongue traces, moving from entrance to clit with deliberate slowness. Your back arches, but Brynjolf’s hold is firm. His large hands firmly grasp your outer thighs, keeping you parted. When his tongue makes another pass, a gasp escapes you. It is strangled. Nearly choked.

Brynjolf repeats the motion, and this time you whimper.

“So sweet,” he purrs. “And all mine.”

His words are liquid sin, dipped in Dibella’s teachings. When Brynjolf puts his mouth on you again, he tastes and tastes and tastes until everything in you clenches. That tension coils up like a serpent under the leaves, waiting to strike. There is no escape. No chase. You are completely open and raw, unable to contain the venomous bite inside you. The serpent shows its fangs, and you are a willing victim.

Brynjolf sucks your clit into his mouth and that cracks your control, shattering it like poorly forged steel. Your fingers slide through his red locks, tugging until he growls. Your hips flex, pushing your cunt against his mouth.

Those large, strong hands of his hold tight, keeping your hips still. But Brynjolf doesn’t guide you away. Instead, he keeps you pressed against his mouth, the flat of his tongue tearing your resolve into shreds.

“Stop. Bryn. I’ll suffocate you,” you gasp, trying in vain to create distance.

“Then I’ll die happy,” he replies casually before diving in for more.

Between your legs, you watch as Brynjolf adjusts his position. He freely offers you a clear view of the tip of his tongue as it circles and teases your clit. You are unable to look away. The sight of him worshiping your body like this sends your body buzzing, and that coiled tension returns, blooming fast.

Your gaze is fixed on that one point, of how his pink tongue plays with you. Brynjolf doesn’t need to use his fingers. By the Nine, if he did, you’d likely explode, shatter like hammer against ice.

You melt like the snows in summer. You do not stifle or attempt to restrain the moans that leave your lips. They are wild. Untamed. And all for him.

Who would hear you but him?

By the time you begin to come down, Brynjolf is already bringing your thighs together, angling them back toward your chest. You don’t care. Don’t event mind. Everything inside of you is light, as if you float amongst the clouds, soaring like a hawk.

“My wife,” he says softly, drawing your gaze back to him. Your lashes flutter, and a contented smile spreads across your face. Brynjolf’s mouth and chin are shiny with your juices.

He makes no move to clean himself.

“Husband,” you reply.

With a suddenness that surprises, Brynjolf’s hand grasps the nape of your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, only holds. He tugs, drawing you upward but not entirely into a seated position. Your fingers dig at the bedding beneath you, all the muscles in your body that were once languid are now tight with strain.

In this position, Brynjolf’s cock slides through your slickness in a back-and-forth motion until all you can hear is your own pleasure.

“Brynjolf,” you gasp, reaching for him.

He murmurs your name as the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your only response is a strangled groan, one he answers by rocking his hips back enough to hold himself at your entrance.

On an exhale, Brynjolf begins to ease in. This is not like before. Not at all. You are stuffed. Filled.

“You’re doing so well, lass.” Brynjolf retreats slightly before pushing forward again. “You can take it.” He gives you more with each roll of his hips.

“By the Nine,” you say as he bottoms out.

“Don’t go praising the gods now, lass,” chides Brynjolf. “They don’t deserve your sweet words.”

You’d laugh, maybe even tease back, but Brynjolf is hungry, and he gives you no respite.

There is no subtle softness. No slowness. Brynjolf drives forward, each thrust concentrated strength. The hold on your neck disappears, and you slump back to the bed, but that doesn’t matter. In this position, you are pinned beneath him, unable to do anything but take. But you gladly accept it, each steady stroke a delicious bite.

You never want to leave this place. Never want to leave him.

Brynjolf adjusts your legs, spreading them out and up, pushing them toward your chest. It forces your hips up a bit but it only creates a deeper angle. Leaning forward, he plants one hand above your head and the other near your shoulder.

He grunts above you, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. Reaching up, you slide your hands up his chest and then over his shoulders, keeping him close. Taking the hint, Brynjolf relaxes a bit, draping himself over you as he thrusts.

Like this, you can reach him.

Flexing the muscles in your neck and shoulders, you arch up to kiss him. You only manage to graze his jaw but it’s enough. Brynjolf tips his head downward, and then he’s meeting you, each kiss desperate.

What were once steady thrusts become needy, quick bursts that signal his end. While you cannot move your legs much, you do manage to hook your heels over the backs of his thighs. This changes something within him because Brynjolf nearly crushes you as he groans out his releases.

You cling to him, holding tight as his hips stutter, the last few thrusts of his shallow and weak. Brynjolf’s lips brush against your jaw, then your cheekbone before falling against the curve of your ear.

“Did you want that army?” he asks.

“Do you?” you reply, turning your head enough to gaze upon his face.

The soft smile you receive tells you all you need to know. “Little versions of us running around the cistern? Brandishing knives?” You roll your eyes and Brynjolf chuckles against your throat. “I’ll take whatever you offer me, lass. You know that.”

He still inside you, and so you roll your hips, finding that he’s already becoming hard again.

“Let’s start with one.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @miss-mistinguett @cherryofdeath @ninman82

[ridreamir]

Nebarra being really convinced that he's ugly to a point that you're secretly both morbidly curious and mildly afraid to find out what he looks like underneath his helmet- Namely because while he isn't the pinnacle of tall freak alien-looking altmer beauty, he's at the very least better looking than most people on average.

And though he's got an ugly personality, if you saw him without him explicitly opening his rancid mouth introducing himself to you, you wouldn't even understand right away that the handsome mer in front of you is the annoying merc you know as (neb)barra.

More often than not, he goes with wildly overconfident. That act doesn't nearly reflect how often he feels self-conscious about how he looks. He thinks about it during almost every passing moment these days. Is he too short? Too stocky? Gods forbid, does he smell bad?? Is he just some brawny brute to you? A ruffian? A barbarian? Not elegant enough?? These are all things he really shouldn't be concerned with (considering you're a walking human-lizard abomination), and yet he can't seem to quiet the thought. But you're never going to find out what he looks like at this rate so it's fine!! It's fine!! It's fine!!! It's fine!!!

-

You finally snap (breaking the no physical contact rule) and grab him by the bangs in the middle of an admittedly mild argument, and underneath the cover of his helmet, he goes completely unresponsive.

You're convinced that they're secretly his alien Aldmeri-antennae and you just flicked his off-switch.

Meanwhile his soul has left his body because you're close enough for him to see every wrinkle, pore, and daedra forsaken eyelash on your face, and you're tugging on his hair as if it were the reins of a horse. And his heart is trying to strangle him. Mara is that such a cruel joke. Then you smooth the strands of his hair between your fingers in curiosity, accidentally tugging them a little. He winces and tries to complain but it all comes out as garbled nonsense as you step a little closer and give it a really good, close-up glance over. After that he goes quiet for maybe one whole solid hour, trailing along without a peep.

Leading him to an early death for sure. Auri-El, smite me.

[0-animelover-0]

When you hug her/him

A/N: My first marriages in the game was Scout-many-marshes and Ghnorbash the Iron Hand so I had to add them :)

Aela the Huntress

You were feeling lonely just talking to the other Companions. So, you went to Aela and engulfed her in your arms. You could feel the thrum of her heart against her chest and it almost immediately calmed you. Aela froze in her spot and stopped eating the loaf that was in her hand. She was not expecting the sudden hug but she certainly was not complaining. She wrapped her arms around you and smiled at you. "My dear, if you wanted a hug all you had to do was ask."

Ghorza gra-Bagol

Ghorza was rambling on about how her lousy assistant was too stupid to understand how to work the forge. You sighed and placed your cheek on your palm. Ghorza usually complains about such things but you didn't feel like listening to her continuous complaints. You pulled her closer by her waist and wrapped your arms around her. She froze for a second before hugging you back. "Geez, at least let me finish speaking first."

Grelka

Grelka stood at her stand in Riften as per usual. You could hear her talking to customers in her usual sassy tone. You walked to her stand and leaned against the side of it. "How's business?"

"What do you think?" She replied.

You chuckled and placed your hand on her hip as you pulled her closer. Grelka placed both her arms around your torso. "Wha-you want a hug? Now?" You nodded your head and placed it on her shoulder. She sighed and held you for a second before pushing you away so she could go back to selling. "Now go back to what you were doing before. I'll see you at home."

Shahvee

You walked to the docks with a basket of flowers you brought from home. Your boots clicked against the stone stairs as you walked down them. Shahvee could hear someone walking to her so she slightly turned her head to look. After seeing your friendly face she smiled. "Hello love, need anything?"

You held up the basket to show her its contents and her face lit up. "I thought these might brighten your day."

Shahvee stood up and took it from you, smelling the pretty flowers. "Thank you..." You hugged her tightly, making sure to not get in the way of the basket. She set it down and happily wrapped her arms around you.

Balimund

The blacksmith of Riften worked over his forge as usual. The sweat and dirt covered his face as he wiped his forehead. Appearing behind him, you wrapped your arms around his broad body. Balimund tensed but when he noticed it was you his muscles relaxed. "Don't creep up on me, darlin." He said, turning his head to look at you.

You laughed and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

He shook his head and took your hands off him before turning around to hug you back. He kissed your temple then your cheek. "Well next time refrain from sneeking and just ask for one."

Derkeethus

It was weeks after you saved him and recently starting seeing each other. You decided to show up at Darkwater Passing to surprise him. You saw Sondas but no Derkeethus. You approached him and smiled politely. "Have you seen Derk?"

The dark elf looked up at you from the ground and nodded, pointing to the entrance to the mine. "Of course. He's in there."

You thanked him and went down to the mine. The first noises you heard was the clanking of pickaxe's hitting the walls. You saw his beautiful green scales and went to him as his back was turned. "Boo!"

Your sudden actions caused Derkeethus to jump. "Divines above! Don't scare me like that Y/n."

You laughed and hugged him as an apology. "I'm sorry, my love."

He rolled his eyes and hugged you back. "No you are not."

You shrugged. "You're right~"

Farkas

The hulking man stood outside, leaning against a pillar. You set your goblet of wine down on a outdoor table and went to him. He noticed you coming closer and he smiled at you. "Oh, is no jobs available for you?" He asked as he placed both of his hands on your waist.

You shook your head and leaned it against his chest. "Just wanted to see you. Is that a problem?~"

Farkas chuckled in his deep voice and kissed your head. "No no, this is just fine."

Vilkas

The scowling werewolf stood outside by the wooden dummies, his sword in his hands. He didn't see you till you cleared your throat to get his attention.

He huffed and turned around to face you. "Yes, love?"

"Come here." You ordered him, your arms opened invitingly

Vilkas raised an eyebrow and slightly smirked. "Liking your role as Harbinger I see?"

You glared at him and put your arms down, rolling your eyes. "Oh nevermind!"

Before you could walk away, Vilkas grabbed your waist. "Ah ah, I didn't say I didn't want a hug from you." He held onto you as he put his chin on the top of your head.

Scout-many-marshes

You could see Scout carrying chopped wood at the docks. You walked to the Argonian and his eyes softened as a loving smile spread across his face. "Hello dearest, how are you this evening?"

"I'm doing just fine. I can help you if you want." You said, motioning to the pile in his arms.

"Oh no I can handle it, love." He responded.

You frowned at him and took some of the wood from him. "No, I'm helping. Even if you like it or not. Now let's get this done before dark." Scout smiled and nodded.

After you too got done, you hugged him and kissed his scaly jaw. "Now sleep well, sweetheart." He nodded with a sweet smile and grazed his clawed hand over the spot you kissed. He definitely will sleep good tonight.

Ghnorbash the Iron Hand

You arrived at the orc stronghold he lived in, Dushnikh Yal. Pushing open the large logged doors, you saw Ghnorbash slicing his weapon in the air and hitting the wooden dummy in front of him. "Ghnorbash!" Your orc warrior looked at the entrance and a small smile graced his lips. He unsheethed his sword and watched as you came closer. If he wasn't strong and sturdy, he would have been knocked down by how fast you jumped on him.

"Excited are we, my love?" He asked jokingly.

You smiled and kept your arms around him. "Mhm."

Ghnorbash picked you up and laughed at the surprise noise you made. "Yes, I can tell." He held you in a tight grip, but not enough to hurt or bruise. His tusked teeth grazed your face as he kissed right below your ear.

Brynjolf

Your mood was down so you went to the man who you loved. This cocky bastard grinned in amusement as he felt your hands cling to the clothing he was wearing. "Feeling lonely lass?" You nodded and he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Well we can't have that." He gently picked you up and ignored the looks from the other thieves guild members. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his chest.

He carried you to the shared bedroom that you guys had built in for when you would need to stay in the Thieves Guild hideout for any reason. He layed you down on the bed then slid in with you, pulling you close to his body. "I'll lay here with you 'til I'm needed."

Cicero

The murderous jester chuckled his little weird laugh and hugged you back with a big grin. "Is my Y/n needing love?" No matter your response, he held you tighter and closer, enjoying your warmth. "Cicero will hug away your worries, oh yes!"

You just sighed and let him be happy as he continued holding you close. You eventually had to leave for a job so he groaned but knew you had to do your work so he let you go. He kissed your nose and told you to get him if needed, placing his hand on his ebony dagger.

Lord Harkon

The large doors opened as you walked into the Castle. Everyone knew you by now. The person who stole the vampire Lord's heart. Eyes fell on you as you walked down the stairs that led to the main room. "Ah, my dear! You've came just in time."

You raised an eyebrow curious. "Time for...?"

Harkon sipped the thick red liquid from his golden goblet. "Dinner, my dear."

You went to him and lifted his chin. "Stand." Harkon narrowed his eyes but obliged and stood up. You smiled and pulled him into a hug. The room was silent as you did it. Harkon found your way of hugging him weird but he couldn't deny that it felt somewhat nice.

A couple snickers could be heard in the background. "Go back to whatever you were doing!" He yelled towards his fellow vampires as he escorted you out.

Serana

You both sat under a big tree during the night. The stars and moon illuminated the leaves overhead. Serana ran her long nails through your hair, stopping to massage your scalp every couple minutes. You wrapped your arms around her waist and leaned into her more. Serana softly chuckled and smiled at you with her glowing eyes. "Comfortable?"

"Very. Thank you..." You said and kissed her pale neck.

"Hey now, that's my job." She said as she kissed your cheek.

You tilted your head with a teasing smile. "Oh really? Who says?"

"Me." Serana said, playfully pushing your head away from her neck.

[madamefluffnstuff]

Just imagine:

Bastian sitting on the floor with you, holding you close. His chest flush with your back, his arms wrapped around you in a safe, secure embrace. Those auburn curls tickling your forehead when you turn to look at him. And his eyes- those lovely, dark emerald green eyes. Not a word needs to be said. He's not going anywhere. And neither are you.

Fennorian standing in the middle of the room with you, holding your hands. His own pale hands feel chilly in your grasp, but you don't mind. You've plenty of warmth to share. His thumbs moving softly across your knuckles as his forehead rests against yours. The worry you both have been carrying slowly dissipates. You feel so safe in his presence, just as he feels safe in yours.

Darien looking up at you with absolute adoration as you sit down on the bed, inviting you to share the coziness of the blankets. It's a cold night, so there are extra bedcovers. You burrow into them as he pulls you close. Your face resting in the crook of his neck as his arm drapes lazily across your midsection. As you both settle in, he breathes in the scent of your hair and you breathe in his. There is a mutual feeling of how lucky you both are to be in each other's arms.

[inkoherentwriting]

WIP WEDNES-MAY!!!

Tagged back by @hannah-heartstrings ! (low pressure) Tagging @hannah-heartstrings back-back ( >:D ) , @thequeenofthewinter, @sylvienerevarine , @gwilin-stay-winnin , @dirty-bosmer , @azures-grace , @druidx , @avantegarda , @archangelsammy , and YOU dear tumblr-er!!

I don't want to share more match fit (even though I'm excited for it!) so I'll share more fluff. going into that silly dancing fic i half percolated last year

under the cut we go! no content warnings just unabashed post main game fluff between two idiots!!!

Guilbert laughed. "I know you think your brother is good at everything, but I don't--"

He stopped dancing and thus, so did Miraina. Guilbert then blinked, facing a peculiar sensation of his current thoughts stopping mid-sentence.

It wasn't something that happened to him often.

"You don't what?"

She looked at him not unlike a shadow of the frightful bandit that he had once feared her as. Looking back into her intense gaze, Guilbert blinked slowly again. She remained staring. Guilbert kept wondering what to do with the peculiar sensation. It was not unpleasant by any means but it grew stranger the longer he lingered on it. Finally though, he said--

"I don't want to dance with your brother anyway."

He watched but did not quite register as her face warmed to a red palette of color. "Y-yeah.... of course not..." Miraina stammered. "My brother ain't the hero of Cyrodiil. Champion. Whatever. Don't care about that."

"You should." Guilbert's voice softened. "You went from ransacking people's homes to saving all of Tamriel. Really, you could dance with anyone you wanted."

Miraina looked shy and tense. Guilbert felt strange again.

"And yet... you wanted to dance with me. That's why I will go to this party with you. You remembered me."

"I never forgot you." Miraina's voice, just as soft, felt like stones hitting Guilbert in the chest as she spoke.

[i-simp-for-fennorian]

Fennorian stayed in Evelynn's embrace for a long while, savoring the closeness between them.

His hand traced gentle patterns across the soft skin of her back, his touch feather-light and filled with affection.

He pressed gentle and tender kisses to her neck and shoulder, his voice a soft whisper against her skin.

"I could stay like this, with you, forever…"

[bishie-in-tamriel]

My submission for a guild book project. Also proof that sometimes I draw wholesome things too.

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Morana: *staring into the mirror, frowning at how her hair grew to her shoulders* Mm...

Taliesin: *walking past, glancing into the room and making eye contact through the glass* ...? Are you okay, raven?

Morana: *eyes trained on the mirror* I'm fine.

Taliesin: *raises an eyebrow, walking to stand behind her and resting his chin on top of her head* You're not having negative thoughts, are you?

Morana: *smiles up at him* No, I'm not.

Taliesin: Good. What's on your mind then, darling?

Morana: ... My hair feels weird.

Taliesin: Hm? How so? *focuses on the mirror, watching as she tugs on a lock of her hair gently*

Morana: All my life I had short hair. With all the travelling we've done I haven't cut it in a while. I don't like how long it is.

Taliesin: Would you like me to trim it for you? I could style it a bit as well.

Morana: *blinks* You don't have to.

Taliesin: I don't mind. I quite like getting to spoil you a bit.

Morana: *scoffs, laughing* I don't think a haircut necessarily counts as spoiling me.

Taliesin: Say what you will~ Sit. *points to a chair* I will be right back.

Morana: *watches as he walks away with a happy little smile, glancing at her reflection in the mirror again before pulling the chair to sit in front of it*

Gore: *walks past the bathroom, glances in and stops* Hey, blood. Whatcha doing?

Morana: Tally's going to give me a haircut.

Gore: Yeah? What're you hoping for?

Morana: Something shorter. I don't really know how to style my hair, though. I never had to, with the mask.

Gore: I'm sure he'll help you out with that.

Taliesin: I'm back~ Oh, hello Gore. *slides past him back into the bathroom, situation himself behind Morana with a pair of scissors and a cloth he throws around her shoulders* Now, how short do you want it? General hair length, bangs, you name it.

Morana: Bangs?

Taliesin: This section of hair covering your eyes, raven. *chuckles, flipping a longer piece of hair out of her face* At most you'll want it short enough that it doesn't cover your eyes. And maybe...

Morana: Um.. Tally..?

Taliesin: Hm?

Morana: *frowning at her reflection* Can we... Leave this middle part a little bit longer?

Taliesin: Whatever for?

Morana: *pushes her hair up, revealing the hand tattoo on her forehead*

Gore: What's that?

Morana: ... *lowers her eyes, looking away from the mirror* A brand.

Taliesin: Oh. *takes her hand, holding it for a moment and letting the hair fall back over it* Yes, we can leave that covered, if you wish. I'll cut the rest of it so it's not in the way.

Morana: Thank you.

Gore: *sits on the floor next to her, leaning against her chair with a smile* I'm just gonna hang out here, if that's okay. Can't trust him with the whole process, y'know?

Taliesin: Excuse me!

Morana: Hehehe... Okay.

Taliesin: Ugh.

~

Morana: *steps out of the bathroom, fiddling with her hair with a happy smile as she walks into the living room*

Lucien: *looks up from the book he's reading* Hello, Mora- oh! *perks up* You've cut your hair!

Inigo: *leans over the couch to see* It looks very nice.

Xelzaz: Did you cut it yourself?

Morana: *shakes her head* Tally did it for me.

Xelzaz: Ah. Of course.

Kaidan: *walks into the room with a raised eyebrow* What's all this ruckus.. about.. *stops, a red blush rising to his cheeks when he sees Morana* Oh. You cut your hair.

Mkrana: *blushes, shying away from his gaze* ... Do you like it?

Kaidan: *smiles, walking forward and resting a hand on her head gently* It looks great on you. You're very beautiful.

Gore: Aaaaand that's my cue to leave.

Xelzaz: Agreed.

Kaidan: Oh, shove off.

Taliesin: *walking out of the bathroom with a smug smile* Oh hello, Kaidan. Do you like my handiwork?

Kaidan: *scoffs* Should've known this was you.

Taliesin: Oh~? Does this mean you don't like how our raven looks?

Kaidan: I didn't say that!

Morana: Hehe.. Tally, don't tease him.

Taliesin: Please, teasing Kaidan is one of my favorite past-times.

Kaidan: Right that's it-

Taliesin: Wait no NOT THE HAIR-

[fatherentropy]

realized I never calibrated CSP's pen pressure and also still trying to learn how to draw Laury's gods forsaken maw so... here we are

[fangsandsoftgrass]

Would u guys b interested in a short lil stargazing fic 👉👈

[gloomwitchwrites]

requesting for 1k event:

Taking a bath with. Teldryn Sero (Naughty)

I am fully aware that it says naughty in the request, but you also requested Teldryn with an (innocent) bath as well. To make it easier on myself, I combined the two for this prompt. We’ll start with the sweet (innocent) stuff before we start encroaching on more dangerous territory. I’ve stuck to gn!reader for this one. Enjoy!

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, suggestive themes, intimacy

Word Count: 408

Teldryn Sero x gn!reader

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent in requests for the 1k follower event. This event is closed and I am not taking any more requests. Thank you!

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Innocent:

Teldryn who doesn’t often get to bathe while working as a mercenary. In fact, it rather peeves him that he cannot just find a peaceful place to wash down every once in a while. The Chitin armor he wears can grow smelly if it’s not taken care of.

Teldryn who might wash up in a stream, river, or lake if he absolutely has to but prefers an actual soak in a tub.

Teldryn who will absolutely pay an arm and a leg to have bath when he stays somewhere for the night. Even if all he gets is a large wooden basin and some basic soap, Teldryn is jumping at the opportunity to soak.

Teldryn who prefers steaming hot water that might scald the skin of paler folk.

Teldryn who likes to lather up and scrub every inch twice over before he actually feels clean.

Teldryn who is totally comfortable drinking himself into a stupor and gorging himself on finger foods while soaking.

Teldryn who does enjoy more than just his company in the bath. With you, he would enjoy you reclining against him or soaking opposite if the tub is big enough.

Teldryn who wouldn’t mind washing you down especially if you’d had a long day or if you were out exploring the world with him. Muscles soreness needs gentleness and a loving hand.

Naughty (MDNI):

Teldryn who isn’t afraid to be a tease if you’re in the room. He’ll take his time undressing. He’ll show off all his muscles. He might even flex. It’s to tempt you into coming with him. To join him in the warm water so he can have you all to himself.

Teldryn who will overexaggerate every movement to tempt you further if you won’t join him. He’ll even purposefully touch himself in a way that you know exactly what’s happening beneath the water.

Teldryn who won’t be able to stop touching you once you join him. He might scrub you down and lather up your skin with the soap, but he’s doing more than that. Teldryn wants to touch you.

Teldryn who is going to use this time to make you ache for him before this is all over.

Teldryn who will relentlessly tease about how needful you are. He loves to hear you beg, and will make every effort to bring you to that point.

Teldryn who will use this opportunity as a kind of foreplay for the real thing.

taglist:

@glassgulls @childofyuggoth @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast

@coffeecaketornado @miaraei @cherryofdeath @miss-mistinguett @ninman82

[darlingrini]

Been indulging a lot in skyrim, so have these Skyrim!Rini doodles, I love the idea of being a mix of wood elf/breton 🥺💕 I've been playing a lot of the Skyrim Romance Mod w/ Bishop and Kaidan Follower Mod. So added some Bishop doodles uwu he's such a crude grump i love him 💕🐺

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 15 (Day 4)-Thief/Enamoured

Azuri is visited by an unexpected guest and it’s lovely. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Dunmer LDB x Kharjo

Warnings- none

Wordcount- ~840

***

“Someone to see you, Archmage.”

Azuri stood up from the little garden bed, she’d been almost finished anyway. “Of course.”

A Khajiiti woman stepped forward as the servant retreated. Azuri craned her neck upward; the other woman was larger than anyone she’d ever met. She was easily ten feet tall and massively built with grey, stripey fur. She wore elegant Khajiiti plate armor that was enamelled a deep, lustrous purple. It was quite possibly the prettiest armor Azuri had ever seen.  

“May this one kneel to be closer? Some do not like that, but some like it too much.” The woman’s voice was brighter than Azuri anticipated. 

“Oh… yes. I wouldn’t mind. It would make it easier to talk.”

The other woman knelt; her tufted ears twitching in amusement. But her smile was kind, and oh, so familiar. “This one is pleased to meet you. This one is Chihari.”

They shook hands as the pieces fell into place. “Azuri Indoril. You’re Kharjo’s sister?”

“Yes. And Khajiit is honored to meet you.”

“The feeling is mutual. Kharjo has told me a lot about you. Oh, but where are my manners? Come, let’s go sit and have some refreshments. I’m sure you’ve had a long trip all the way up here to Winterhold.”  

“You are most kind, Azuri.”

They headed up to the Archmage’s quarters, Chihari ducking under most doorways as they passed. Azuri gave her a rueful smile. “My apologies. I guess they didn’t account for taller people coming through here.”

“Khajiit is accustomed to it. Few places are built with Pahmar-raht in mind.”

Once they had settled around the table in the Archmage’s rooms, servants brought some snacks to complement the refreshments that Azuri already had.

“Oh, you have sweetcakes!” Chihari exclaimed, settling into the oversized armchair that Azuri had dragged over. “Ah, it is good to have a chair that fits.”

“I have plenty of drink options, also. Would you prefer cane mead or tea? I have mint and Khenarthi’s Wings Chai?”

“Ah, mint tea would be lovely. This one did not expect so many options from home in this place.”

Azuri smiled as she assembled the pot of tea and warmed it with a flame spell. “I am also far from my home. I know how it is to miss the things we leave behind. So I try to bring what I can here. So we can at least have little things like this.”

“That is a most wonderful thing. I can see why Kharjo is enamoured with you.” Her ears twitched, and Azuri knew she was doing the Khajiit equivalent of blushing. “He has sent me many letters. He speaks of you often in them.”

Azuri’s own face warmed. “I didn’t know that. I knew you two wrote back and forth, but not what about.” 

“Ah. Well, Khajiit thought to come meet you for myself. This one escorted a delegation to Solitude, and now that service is done. So, Khajiit has come now to this Winterhold to meet you and to see this one’s brother. It has been a long time since we have seen each other.”

“I think this will be a lovely surprise for him! It has been for me.”

“You are too kind, Azuri.”

***

Kharjo all but bounded up the steps to the Archmage’s rooms. Korir had called the training of the new guards early, sending everyone home for the day for some holiday or another. It just meant he could go home all the earlier to his beloved. 

As he reached the door he heard laughter from the other side. They had company? He wondered who’d come to visit? Perhaps Besharat? Or maybe Thaeril had come up from Riften? He supposed it would be nice to visit for a while…

As he opened the door, every thought flew out of his head. “Chihari?”

She crossed the room in three giant steps, gathering him into a hug that lifted him off the ground. “Kharjo!”

“You are… you are here?” he stammered as she set him down. 

“Indeed. I came to Skyrim with a job and now I am free to visit you and meet the one you are enamoured with.”

Azuri giggled as she stepped up, kissing him on the cheek. “We’ve had a lovely afternoon. I’m glad you’re home early to join us. Would you like some tea?”

His arm slipped around her waist as he smiled. “Khajiit would like that very much. My thanks, Moonbeam.” 

“You could use it after a long day of work. Come sit with us. I’d love to hear more stories now that you’re both here.”

“Of course. Chihari has not told too many embarrassing stories about Kharjo, has she?” he teased. 

“Only the ones that are true!” his sister laughed. 

As they all sat again, Khrjo found himself now thankful they had company. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined he would be able to sit at a table with both his beloved Azuri and his beloved sister. And to see them laugh and joke as if they were old friends? It was better than he could have imagined. In fact, it was perfect. 

[madamefluffnstuff]

Can I request a one shot of Fennorian working hard in his study but Vestige comes in and convinces him to relax 🥺

@rvnwtch and I both had the same idea, and *I* originally got the idea from a post by @i-simp-for-fennorian :3 (which I can no longer find the original post on Tumblr but I can find it on Google for some reason! :,D)

Also thought it would be very appropriate for their Ravenwatch Posting Event.~

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fennorian?" A soft voice called down the hallway. No answer came. The Vestige walked down the corridor until she reached a familiar door. Inside, the faint sound of bubbling and glass clinking could be heard. A book page turning, followed by a hasty quill scribbling, and the unsettling noise of glass sliding on metal, most likely from the aforementioned vampire moving a test tube from its rack.

"Fenn?" She asked again as she slowly opened the door and poked her head in.

Fennorian had his back to the entrance, arm raised as he held a tiny glass tube up by a hanging lamp. The candlelight revealed a thick, viscous looking fluid with a bright red hue.

Not blood, but a prototype for the Harrowstorm elixir.

"Ah, my friend. Good to see you," he responded, clearly distracted and not completely aware. He placed the test tube back in its slot and plucked some snowberries from a nearby bowl, extracting a few seeds in a practiced motion. The seeds disappeared into the elixir.

"...How long have you been down here?" The Vestige asked as she walked in, very worried and surprised at what she was seeing;

His normally neat and organized workspace was cluttered. Various jars were opened on the shelves, in various stages of being emptied. Lids were strewn about. Papers with notes and sketches and diagrams were scattered about the desks. If one tilted their head and squinted, they would notice slight stains of various colors on his fingers and gloves.

"A few days." He leaned over his most recent notebook and scribbled something down. "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough."

"I've... never seen you this... well. Focused. When did you last feed?" She quickly stepped out of his way as he bustled to another shelf of reagents.

"I have my flask. And an extra, just in case. I'm rationing."

In Fennorian's defense, he did look like he had recently consumed. That did not excuse the fact he clearly hadn't left the laboratory in some time. The Vestige knew the vampire alchemist had a tendency to get tunnel vision when he was focused on his work, but this was bad even for him. What in the world had gotten into him?

"You've obviously been busy."

Fenn nodded, straightening up and turning to the alchemy table. He wordlessly picked up a beaker with a clear liquid inside and poured it into one of the tubes with the red fluid. Almost immediately there was a small plume of colored smoke and a pungent, musky smell, like the local badgers when they marked their territory on the trees. Fenn made a noise.

"No. No, that didn't work," he reached for the quill and ink pot.

"Okay, no." The Vestige interrupted him. "This has gone on too long. You need to take a break."

The alchemist shook his head vigorously. "I am sorry, my friend. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I'm quite alright."

For a split second he almost sounded convincing.

"Fenn, please," the worry evident in her voice. "You're going to wear yourself out. You need to come up for air eventually."

Fennorian returned to his previous location, where his back was turned to her. "I know you're worried, Vestige. But like I said-" he picked up a cylindrical beaker, "-this elixir has to be perfect or-"

"Fennorian Ravenwatch."

He froze. The room filled with a stunned silence. He had never heard her use that tone of voice with him before. Nor had she used his full name before. At least when addressing him. He blinked.

The quiet was broken by the Vestige sighing and walking over to him. "Look... I know this is important to you. Believe me, it's important to me as well," her voice gentle and patient. "But you need to take care of yourself."

He felt her hand on his shoulder. He had to fight the urge to bring his own hand up and hold hers. Instead he gripped the edge of the desk and the beaker still in his other hand.

The Vestige leaned over to look at him. His hair was hiding his face, some plastered to his forehead with tense sweat. Fennorian was very relieved at that moment she couldn't see his eyes. He didn't want her to see him like this. See that she was right. And that it took her raising her voice for him to realize it.

She gently took the glass from his hand and set it on the table, replacing it with her hand. In the same soft voice, she said "I can't make you leave, of course. But, whenever you're ready to take a break and rest, I'll be upstairs." She squeezed his hand, then turned around to leave him to his work.

"...Come here."

The Vestige jumped a little as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and gently lift her up. She turned her head and locked eyes with Fennorian.

"Fenn, what-"

"Just. Stay here for a bit. I'm almost finished with this page. After that, I'll take a break."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Promise?"

He walked back over, her still in his arms, and set her down on the desk, just to the side of his papers. "I promise."

And true to his word, he finished his writing much quicker than she thought he would. In between quill strokes, she would lean over and place soft kisses on his temple. With each peck he visibly relaxed more and more. Before they knew it, he was closing his book and tying the cord around it. The Vestige hopped off the desk and lead him out of the laboratory, the two hand in hand.

~*~

Fennorian stared up at the Vestige, a tired smile on his face as he rested his head in her lap. She looked down at him, also smiling while her fingers worked slow circles into the sides of his head. Their bed was a very welcome reprieve after days in the laboratory.

He adjusted himself and folded his hands across his chest, using her legs as arm rests. She asked if he was comfortable, to which he responded with a nod. With a slight smirk, the Vestige brought her pointer finger to her lips, made a little kissing noise, and pressed her finger to his forehead in a "boop". Fenn laughed.

That laugh was the best thing the Vestige had heard all week.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Fallen Star, pt. 6

Author's Note: Hot springs sex, biting

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

When Sadara had mentioned wanting to see the sunrise, Voryn had asked her not to do it. Not that he would deny it to her, but that he needed to be sure she would be safe in the journey. For she could not do see such a thing in the Red Mountain region--he wouldn't let the blight winds cease--so he had to plan for a location that would be safe for her to travel toward.

The corprus monsters might try to harm her due to their madness, after all, to say nothing of the daedric creatures or cliff racers. So he'd made her promise to wait, said he would send one of the ash poets or ascended sleepers with her.

"There's really no need for such caution, Voryn. I got here just fine. I can get out just fine, too."

"I do this for your safety, moon-and-star," he'd said, bringing both hands up to hold her face, "I lost you once. I will not lose you again."

He meant treacherous murder, but she could not be sure if he thought it would come from her, or be enacted against her. She told herself it could be either - he had to be careful, didn't he? She hadn't brought Wraithguard to him, so maybe he wished her to be watched as well as protected. But every gesture, every touch was speaking a language of its own, telling her that it was all the latter.

In truth she wanted, no, NEEDED, to think. About everything.

She couldn't do what Azura asked of her, she knew that already. But Voryn's plan...she couldn't be part of Voryn's plan. Too much pain and suffering, too many dead...or as good as dead. And he thought he was doing the right thing!

One or two nights she stood before the heart, shut her eyes, and hoped Lorkhan heard her thoughts.

Show me the way, she half-prayed, Show me the way to help him, to save him. Show me how to save everyone from him, all of it.

But though she felt the faintest tingle of emotion in her mind, something almost like appreciation, no answer ever came. But perhaps, she thought, that was the answer. Perhaps she must be the one to find it. Certainly no one else WANTED to.

A few days later, Voryn told her he'd arranged for her to go to Kogoruhn. They were bathing in the hot spring together, which had become a thrice-weekly event.

"It is outside the Ghostfence, and perhaps the safest place you could see the sunrise from," he said, before giving a slight little smile. "I have been working at my plan for so long that I forget wanting to see such things. Once my victory is secured, I will have to be sure to watch one with you."

She was washing her hair, but still listening carefully, and schooled her face so it didn't drop into anything like a frown. He seemed to accept that she didn't much like the plan, but she preferred to show him as little of her disapproval as possible.

Not only because she didn't want him to see the indecision she was feeling, but...

...but because it felt almost cruel to let him see it when he was so happy she was there.

She realized she'd drifted off a bit, hadn't been paying attention, so after rinsing off her hair she looked back in Voryn's direction.

"...and your absence will give me time to have the ash slaves time to better arrange your room."

"What's wrong with my room now?"

"It's little better than a large closet I had to have them put a bedframe in. Do you really expect me to let you languish in such--"

"The room is FINE, Voryn, I've slept on the ground a lot since coming to Morrowind, even HAVING a bed to call my own is an improvement. And I haven't exactly slept in that room much since..." Sadara said, trailing off. She didn't know what to finish that statement with. 'Since I started staying here', maybe? She went on hurriedly with, "Highly improper for the head of a Great House, you know."

"If you cared about propriety we would never have done what we did in the Heart Chamber." Voryn gave a devilish grin at that. "You can't tell me that you mind this now, and expect me to believe it."

"Still, to have a strange woman sleep in your bed so often?"

That riled him at once, and he moved closer, seizing both of her hands in his own.

"If you care for me at all, never speak of yourself that way again. You are not just some stranger, and you KNOW that."

"But--" Sadara winced slightly as his grip tightened, "It was only a little joke, Voryn. I might be Nerevar incarnate, but...I'm still me. A seed grown in different soil. Not...not that I deny what I am, but...we are one soul that has been in two bodies. You know him, but...but not me, as such."

"Fair enough." He let one of her hands go, but kept the other encircled in his. "So we will have to remedy that. I will know you, Nerevar Sadara, as once I did when you were Indoril Nerevar."

The unsettling feeling in her stomach abated just slightly, and she gave him a soft smile.

"There's my Nerevar."

my Nerevar

my Nerevar

my Nerevar

It echoed in her head several times, like the sweetest notes of a symphony. And despite the wish that he'd once more use HER name, there was still the flutter in her chest at having been called his.

The part of her that was Nerevar absolutely wanted this, of that she was certain. Wanted to touch Voryn, hold him, feel him - within and without. The part of her that was her was wary of this blighted god before her, but...she wanted him too. Having gone so long struggling for scraps before coming to Morrowind, then once there being pushed into duties and a prophecy she didn't understand or even care for, having a daedric prince she didn't even worship whisper orders to her--

She just wanted a place to rest, and the loving pair of arms that so often encircled her of late.

"Perhaps tell me," Voryn said suddenly, "Why do you keep that lute instead of buying a new one? Certainly you can afford it now."

"Because my mother gave it to me, and it's been my friend through thick and thin ever since. My best source of income, a comfort on the bad days, even. If I have my lute I can make music, and if I can make music I can eat, sleep, and drink. No other instrument has gone through that with me."

"Nerevar was like that...holding on to things well past their usefulness. Of course an instrument is different than a piece of armor, but he would patch and rework until the item in question could hardly be called the same thing."

"It's been that way for me, but...more out of necessity than attachment. I don't want to throw my old things away, but...it's more because I'm half-afraid I may need them later. Not that I doubt your gifts, it's just...once you live in poverty...you can escape it, but it still clings to you. Habits you formed to survive it persist. What if, it whispers, what if you lose this new thing you have? Throw nothing away that you could use. It will just take time to get used to the idea that...I can relax."

In the matter of prosperity, at least.

"How much you have gone through. The Lady of Dawn and Dusk thinks her heroes must suffer to prove their worth to her." He brought one of her hands to his face, and an (only slightly veiled) expression of contentment spread across his face. "I, on the other hand...I do not ask that of you. I ask only devotion."

"Obedience, you mean."

A slight huff, not mad in the slightest. He let her hand go, but moved his own down to cup her cheek. Then he leaned down to whisper in her opposite ear, "Your god asks no more than you've already given, Sadara."

She shivered. To hear her name from Voryn's lips was one thing, but to hear it in that dark tone? He was overwhelming, overwhelming and yet alluring at the same time.

With Voryn, the two were as one, with no means of separating them.

"My god, are you?" She teased it only a bit nervously, "How lucky that I never swore myself to the service of another."

"Lucky indeed," his voice husked, lips still breathing hot against her ear, "For now I have your service all to myself, and I, my dear...I am a jealous god."

"And what would my god have to be jealous over?"

It was easy, so very easy to please this man. The faintest tremor when she called him a god, that she had seen. But more than that, calling him her god--

Sadara was pulled into Voryn's lap. She straddled him, buried her face in his neck, let the void-curtain of his wet hair block her vision of anything but him. And far from immediately pushing into her and taking what would obviously please him--he held her at first, reveled in the closeness of skin against skin, of that which he'd not had for so long.

"Never again," he said, in a voice so low she was SURE he'd not meant her to hear it.

She relaxed and let the lingering tension seep away.

"He may be worried that he will lose you to another," Voryn finally said. "That the poison in your mind before would come for you again."

I've only known you two weeks, one part of her thought, while another countered with, No, we've know him our whole life.

(And the more time she spent in close proximity to him, to the Heart, the more she remembered.)

"I was serious when I told you I would not kill you," she finally replied, having been unsure of how to proceed without ruining the moment or angering him, "I don't...I will never like the suffering that the blights cause, but--"

The grip of his arms around her tightened, but only just slightly.

"It is fortunate, then, that this time it is I who leads and you who follows. Those who lead must make the most difficult decisions...and as I have said before, you will understand in time. I regret that there must be suffering, but not all can withstand the presence of the divine in their minds."

Sadara nuzzled closer, tried to put the thought from her mind--as if, she scolded herself inwardly, any kind of cuddling could do that! She knew she would not see things his way, but still the hope he would see her way was there. So to dwell overmuch on what he saw as so certain wasn't helpful.

It was so easy to keep her face there against his neck, to let the warmth of the water and his touch ebb away the doubt in her mind. To enjoy him as the one who paradoxically felt like both the first to stir her heart and the one she'd longed for for years beyond count.

How long they stayed like that, she didn't know. But it was Voryn to finally break the silence, just as she was beginning to nod off.

"What was that you were saying about propriety earlier?" A more capricious tone sounded off, "I doubt our current position could in any sense of the word be considered proper."

"I don't care," Sadara said against his neck, "In any case the only one seeing anything of this besides us is her ladyship."

She tried not to say Azura's name now, as if not saying the name could keep her from hearing the Lady's words in her mind. There had been no words of late, only anger, a feeling that she had displeased Azura.

And beneath that was the fear.

Sadara shifted slightly, and realized in all the luxuriating she'd done in his touch that there was a part of him she'd forgotten. He was hard, and she found herself wondering how long he'd been so without her noticing. And why he hadn't done anything about it.

Perhaps he was simply enjoying the embrace as she was, or...perhaps he was simply exercising his will in a way he likely hadn't had to in centuries.

"I suppose this is further proof of your divinity," she teased, raising herself enough to brush her lips over his. "I'm certain a mortal man would already have me on my back, but I suppose you have more self-control than that."

"Not to say, of course, that I have not been tempted."

"And I thought the point of this room was to be clean..."

Neither of them would remember afterward who it was that closed the minute distance between their lips into a kiss, but the end result was the same. It was a small enough gesture, but became the catalyst to so much more, like that kiss a few weeks ago.

Voryn's hands moved to her hips, and tried to urge them down. There was a slight growl when she didn't immediately obey, and a groan when she speared herself on him a moment later.

"I hope," Sadara gasped slightly when they parted, "That you aren't waiting for prayers."

He didn't respond, so she raised her hands to his shoulders and started to roll her hips. Slowly at first, slowly enough to luxuriate in the feeling of being spread and filled. With him above her it was good enough, but this position--

Something, perhaps Azura in the back of her mind, beneath the haze of pleasure that was settling over her, was practically seething with how utterly wrong this was. You are meant to slay him, it said, meant to destroy him and all that he is, and NOW look at you!

But on the other hand, there was him, and his arms, his lips, his warmth. There was a stronger sensation to counter that feeling of wrongness, that whispered to the contrary. That this was the right thing, that this was how it should have been. A recurring thought that had taken hold ever since that first night.

Voryn reached up, tilted her head back, planted a series of kisses on her neck--even bit down, after a moment of hesitation. It was a sudden shock of pain that faded into a dull throb, and would bruise in the morning, she was certain. Yet the idea that there could be evidence of all this was intoxicating. Whether her or Nerevar, the source did not matter, only the thought.

His, his, his

He had been one of the only friendly faces she'd yet seen in Morrowind, and certainly the only one to welcome her so nicely.

A sudden buck beneath her wrenched another moan from her lips, and finally, his mouth drew back.

"We are not beasts," Sadara started, and paused to moan after a second buck, "Why bite--?"

"Forgive me," he murmured, "I was...simply struck by the urge. I can heal it--"

"No," Sadara replied. Pleasure leaped in her gut. She rolled her hips faster over his own, took him deeper than before, and let out words impossible to hold back, "Let it go, imagine the mark that will show up. Or do...or do you not want others to see...that I..."

For a moment nothing more was said besides a few soft gasps of names. His arms moved up tightly around her, keeping her pressed close against his chest, keeping her exactly where she was supposed to be.

(Was this Nerevar, or was this her? Did it matter now?)

The end struck Sadara without warning; a rush of ecstasy shot through her and burst out of her mouth with a, "Voryn!"

She groaned, buried her face in his neck as she shuddered, planted lazy kisses on his neck, nipped briefly at his skin. Her hips still moved, but were slower--despite the overstimulation, she wasn't going to let him go without.

Her chest, pressed to his. Two bodies, only one heartbeat.

He was nearly there--she could tell from the groans--when she felt the push of one hand against the back of her head. Not knowing what else to do, she bit down gently on his neck, just enough a soft shock of pain, just enough to sting.

Beneath her Voryn's body jerked, and she felt the rush of his warmth inside her, the pulse and the spill.

"Nerevar..."

It was a slight sting, but she was practically glowing from their joining. Tired, but satisfied...so utterly satisfied.

And if I can change his mind, Sadara thought, Gods, I could keep this feeling...

(They would need to bathe again, but neither was of a mind to complain)

------------------------------cfffffffffffffffffff

The next morning she packed for the journey to Kogoruhn, and was re-introduced to Dagoth Rather.

"He cannot speak, but he can understand you," Voryn said, "Dagoth Uthol has been told to expect you, so there will be someone ready to receive you, too."

"I still say this is not necessary, Voryn," Sadara gave a slight smile. He'd given her another red robe, this time with a leather belt bearing a symbol of House Dagoth as the buckle. He was making it clear, wasn't he? "Nerevar would--"

"Nerevar complained like this about escorts, too." There was a slight chuckle. "Now, go, and be sure to cover your face to protect against the blight winds."

A lengthy black silk scarf had been provided, this one stitched all over in red with the symbol of House Dagoth, and she was shown how to tie it about her face before she set off.

"Good travels," Voryn said, as she was about to leave, "And expect me in your dreams."

Of course, she thought, He doesn't want to go a single night apart, does he?

It warmed her from within, buoyed her hopes despite everything. This was Voryn, this was him, HIM, and this was a sign that he was not lost.

Exiting, walking out with a head full of happy thoughts, she hardly noticed Dagoth Gilvoth, until Dagoth Rather stopped and gave a bow.

"A pleasure, Lord Gilvoth," Sadara gave a slight bow, feeling a little--unnerved from the glower on his face.

(Could he see her indecision?)

"I do not counter my Lord's will," Gilvoth said in a dour tone, "But you do know, do you not? That it is not you he wants, but Nerevar?"

Her joy sank, though it could not be felled entirely. She swallowed, mouth dry, and replied, "I know."

She walked onward, head still consumed with Voryn, but with that thought now kicking around as well.

It was a thought she would never forget.

[hannah-heartstrings]

Starlight

For the TES Summerfest prompt: Starlit

Here’s my HoK, Lecrinn, and the NPC I shipped her with, Garrus, being cute in this short fic about cherishing the time you have with someone. (No one dies if that's what I just made it sound like, this is fluff.)

Super excited to share this one, I've spent a lot of time working on all the details. ^_^

@nine-blessed-hero @babyblueetbaemonster @inkysqueed @tes-summer-fest

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           She was like a shooting star, Garrus thought as Lecrinn walked down the street towards him, showing up unexpected and catching all of your attention.

           “Did you just happen to be in the area?” he asked surprised as she reached him.

           She smirked. “I may have gone a little out of my way.”

           “You have perfect timing,” his smile was almost giddy, “there’s something you’re going to love; unless,” the smile paused, “you need to get something to eat first?”

           “No, lead the way,” she lit up with eager curiosity, already reaching for his arm before he offered it.

           The streets were dark and empty, most of Cheydinhal having gone home for the night.

           As they reached a small square she looked at Garrus instead of where they were going, watching the excitement in his face with an affectionate smile.

           “We’re almost there, close your eyes.”

           She did, stepping slowly and carefully as he led her across a bridge to the small island in the river.

           Crickets trilled out a slow rhythm, cicadas adding an occasional high note, frogs adding a low one.

           Reaching the center he turned his giddy smile to her. “We’re here.”

           Eyes opening, they went wide, mouth falling open.

           Torchbugs filled the warm night air, stars twinkling above, the river shimmering with reflections below. Lecrinn and Garrus were seemingly surrounded in a thousand little lights. Her awe shifted to a wide smile, his brightening to see her so happy.

           “Wow,” she breathed out. “They just gather here like this?”

           He looked over them. “They seem to like the river, there isn’t usually quite this many though.”

           “I did come at the perfect time then.” Looking around she watched them flicker and bob through the air, almost in time with the crickets’ song. “I think we might’ve snuck into their party.”

           “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done that.”

           She gave a quick laugh.

           Turning back to her he watched her eyes excitedly dart around, his own narrowing as his smile softened.

           “You’re right, I love them.” She looked up. “They’re beautiful.”

           He breathed out a whisper. “So are you.”

           “What?” She looked at him.

           Eyes widening, he quickly turned to look up at the sky. “So,” he cleared his throat, “are you… staying long?”

           She smirked at him before looking the same direction, smile falling. “No, I need to leave in the morning.”

           “Oh,” his gaze dropped a little. And like a shooting star she’d disappear again before you knew it.

           She tugged their linked arms to get him to look at her again. “I’m here now,” she offered an apologetic smile.

           He smiled sadly back. She was right, she’d gone out of her way to be here for at least some time, there was no sense spending that time missing her before she was gone. “I am grateful that you’re here, for any time that we get.”

           “Me too,” her cheeks rose under her smiling eyes.

           The disappointment faded from his face, it was hard to stay sad with her looking at him like that.

           The twinkling torchbugs lit up their faces, her bright brown eyes sparkling up at him and his light hazel ones sparkling back.            

           Slowly they faced forward, intertwined gazes lingering a second. As they watched the lights dance around them she leaned into him, he slipping his arm from hers to wrap it around her shoulders.

           It was best to enjoy time with a shooting star while you had her.