madam-whim

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The Speech of Hermaeus Mora

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Chapter 6: Conversations in Darkness

A Sunstorm Prophecy

“What plan?” Martin hissed, all too quickly running out of patience with this woman, who did not even seem to care in the slightest about the suffering around her. “What are you talking about? I prayed to Akatosh all through that terrible night, but no help came. Only more Daedra. What can you possibly know that would help me make sense of this?”

For just a moment, she lost her composure, a look of utter disbelief on her face. “He doesn’t know,” she said then, to no one in particular. “This man is the only thing stopping Mehrunes Dagon from taking over Tamriel and no one told him !”

A Martin-centric fic, featuring a HoK who'd rather be anywhere else, a whole lot of Blades, a slow-burn romance and quite a bit of angst.

Chapter 1: In Ruins

Chapter 2: Departure

Chapter 3: Journey

Chapter 4: Wounded

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Skyrim Sundas!

Feel free to talk about it in the tags!!

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‪You do realize who you're dealing with here?‬

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— Sotha Sil is finally smiling (and there’s no overload of red in the background 😅)

I made myself draw him happy in the rain (I don’t remember — does he actually like rain? Or is that just my headcanon?). Anyway, here’s a quick sketch for you.

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At one time, I was really into Skyrim crafts. I tried to make something that would complement my interior and remind me of my favourite game and universe. The bottles are made of papier-mâché. There are some flaws, but the works are old enough to be forgiven. (I should have just made a collage...)

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Escape from Apocrypha

Norana steals Miraak from Hermaeus Mora

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WIP Wednesday

tagged by @sulphuricgrin @sanzas-reverie @captain-of-silvenar and @unironicallytes!

tagging @countravenwatch @snowy-weather @caliblorn @madam-whim and @pocket-vvardvark

I've got a few things I'm working on (having a lot of fun coming up with ideas for the pinup challenge hehe) but I'll share this one:

putting that old man in a situation (a saucy little outfit)

[madam-whim]

WIP Wednesday <3

It's an early Wednesday here, so I'll be doing the tagging today. ^^

No pressure tagging @labskeever@theoneandonlysemla @skyrim-forever@hircines-hunter@sunlightpassingthroughthewater@sulphuricgrin@umbracirrus@dirty-bosmer@friend-of-giants@madam-whim@silly-little-diary@heavy-metal-dick@pocket-vvardvark@pyre-of-pages@boiledkwamaegg@sanzas-reverie and YOU.

Feel free to tag me to your WIPs, y'all!

Might actually get a new chapter out this week if the sprints keep on being as fruitful as they have been so far! And if I manage to focus on editing. Finally made a choice on how to continue the chapter, so I've got that going for me, which is nice.

CW: None

Choices made under pressure were still choices. But he would not forget who had pressed first.

At last, he turned his gaze away, forcing his voice even. “You’ll be discreet. You’ll stay close. And you’ll speak only when spoken to.”

“Perfect,” she said brightly. “I excel at being ornamental.”

Ondolemar didn’t respond to her quip. He couldn’t even look at her. His expression remained composed, but inwardly, a sour taste coiled at the back of his throat—disappointment, unmistakable and self-directed.

She had not seized power. She had borrowed his.

He’d walked right into it. That infuriated him more than her insolence. She had maneuvered the conversation expertly, as if she’d studied his rhythm and anticipated each step. She was not a threat to his authority or his life, but she was a disruption—one with sharp edges and an unsettling sense of timing. There had been no real threat in her voice, no raised tone, no crude ultimatum. Just the slow turning of a screw. 

Whatever little blackmailing game she was planning, he had no doubt he could crush it if it came to that. Whisper campaigns, insinuations, courtly gossip… It was familiar terrain. He’d survived far worse. But even a dull knife could cut, if left close enough.

Still, there was a pragmatic logic to this path. If a thief like her was going to be at the Jarl’s gathering—and he suspected she would be, with or without his help—it was better she attend under his supervision than wander freely among courtiers and dignitaries, slipping through silk-draped halls with fingers as light as her tongue was sharp. Whether her threat to gain access without him had been truth or bluff hardly mattered. She had the cunning to manage it, and the recklessness to try. Letting her operate outside his sight would be a far greater liability than reeling her in and keeping her close.

He folded his arms slowly across his chest to steady himself—to feel something solid when so much of the last few minutes had shifted. Behind his stillness, his mind churned, measuring outcomes, recalibrating his stance, sifting through the pieces she had knocked loose in a matter of minutes. She was clever, that much had never been in question. But cleverness had a cost. He wasn’t about to forget that she had backed him into a corner. He had given her an opening and she’d exploited it without hesitation. That wasn’t charm, that was instinct.

A part of him almost respected it.

And another part—a darker, quieter part—resented how easily she had made him choose her. Because some part of him, the part that still entertained softness where it shouldn't, had wanted to.

And now she would be at the Jarl’s gathering. At his side. Under his name.

The optics were abysmal. Even worse if anyone knew about their past, or even guessed. If anyone connected the dots.

She lingered near the desk a moment longer, watching him with that fox-like attentiveness that made his nerves hum. He didn’t look up again, but he could feel her smile. She wasn’t smug, exactly. No, smugness would’ve been easier to ignore. 

Ondolemar wasn’t afraid of her… But she unsettled him.

She smiled that infuriating smile of hers, lashes dipping just enough to suggest softness, but not enough to mask the blade beneath. 

He knew better than this. He knew the type. He trained others to spot the type.

And still—some part of him had believed her.

He must be a fool. A fool for ever mistaking her flirtation for anything but strategy. The oldest trick in the book, and he’d let himself play the mark.

“You’re thinking very loudly, Commander,” Talisse said lightly, leaning towards him over the desk. “What’s wrong?”

She was close now. Not improperly so, but close enough that he could smell the faint trace of something floral beneath her leathers. It annoyed him that he noticed. 

He didn’t look up when he answered her, his tone carved down to bone. “Do not test me.”

“Oh, relax,” Talisse laughed, light and unbothered, as if he’d just told her something charming rather than issued a warning. She leaned back with exaggerated ease, brushing a bit of nonexistent dust from her shoulder. “You’re so tense, Commander. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

The shift was subtle, clearly practiced. A tilt of her head, a softening of her voice, eyes catching the light just so.

[madam-whim]

Sunset on Solstheim

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wip wednesday

tagged last week by @theoneandonlysemla @chiqita @skyrim-forever @silly-little-diary @kookaburra1701 @madam-whim @sulphuricgrin @ladytanithia @inkoherentwriting @hircines-hunter

Thank you <3 <3 <3 I tag you all again!!! and add @gilgamish @elavoria @bosmerblood @pocket-vvardvark @unironicallytes @rustyram035 @darcxaosit @avantegarda @captain-of-silvenar @babyblueetbaemonster @miliabyntite

PhD is OVER, and guess what that means? I'm back to writing crack fic for a 20 year old game :D

Chapter 4 of Another Night in Bravil:

When Lucien comes to, he’s standing or he’s floating, can’t quite tell if he’s awake or if he’s even alive at all. The room is hot, hazy, crowded with bodies and toneless voices that he can’t parse from the incessant sound of drumming. Thump, thump, thump.  For all he knows, he’s in a mass grave, dirt crashing down atop him. Thump, thump, thump, just one shovel-full after another. He entertains how easy it would be to simply close his eyes, evaporate back to the Void whence he came, but when he listens, really listens, he finds a rhythm amidst the din. Music? Or something like it, sprawling out from a corner he can’t source. The more he focuses, the more solid it sounds. The beat of a dozen drums. Disorienting, it creeps closer, grows louder, pours down from above and all around him like rainfall or the pulse of bloodrush as it whirls around his ears.  The echo rebounds off the inside of his skull, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the murky light, for him to find his feet beneath him and register the sensation of his own lungs expanding in his chest, filling with hot air, then releasing— proof that he’s still alive and breathing. It takes a moment longer for Lucien to realize that he’s Lucien, another to realize that he has no idea where he is.  When Lucien takes a step forward, the world takes an equal step to meet him. Sights and sounds swirl up at him so fast that the sudden onslaught to his senses leaves him momentarily dazed. He’s in a crowded room, the smell of sweat and burnt moon sugar buffeting at him from all angles, the smoke thin but everywhere, filling the room in a milky haze. Shadowed faces smear past his periphery like rain on a windowpane, and all around him is that thump, thump, thump, that wild thrum. It pounds in his blood with a menacing cadence so close and confining that he fears the only way to escape it is to wait for it to rip right through his ribs.  Where am I?

Plot twist: he's crashing out in da club

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WIP Wednesday 💛

I don't come with writing today, but with the beginnings of a new cross stitch project!! Some people already know what it's going to be, but I'm going to keep quiet about what it is going to be for now <3

Tagged by @chiqita , and tagging @hircines-hunter @skyrim-forever @madam-whim @illumiera @pocket-vvardvark @sulphuricgrin @silly-little-diary @sunlightpassingthroughthewater and anyone who wants to share a WIP, obviously no obligations-!!

[madam-whim]

WIP Wednesday

It's almost wednesday here. Tomorrow i'm spending the day catching up on every single tagged post from the last month while at the cafe >:]

tagging: @yansurnummu @theoneandonlysemla @yansurnummu @hircines-hunter @infericon @pinessydr @saltymaplesyrup @truth-01001001-liar @thescrolls-haveforetold @illumiera @scholarlyhermit @yewphoric @flycasual @madam-whim @sanzas-reverie @skyrim-forever @dirty-bosmer @captain-of-silvenar @pocket-vvardvark @firefly-factory @aleielle-of-roshar @bookworm-driven-insane

I've got quite a few art wips to share!! 2 had to be cropped for... reasons. 🤭

Masc!Lilli is turning out well. I'm currently working on the lighting/shadows/rendering whatever you call it. but that's messy as hell, so here's the flat colors + smaller details :)

And below the cut are parts of two quick sketches I'll be uh, working on and throwing on toyhouse when I finish! Yes, I'm drawing Lilli and Miraak 😈

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Masc!Lilli update!

We're got the flat colors down! >:D I'm gonna do the jewelry lineless, so it's not in the wip yet

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8/4-6: Soul Gem - Abnur Tharn

yeah, it’s time to get the Tharn thirst trap out of the way. Everyone’s favorite “soul gem inspector.” And no that isn’t in quotations to be lewd, get your mind out of the Imperial City sewers—it’s in quotations because that isn’t his full time job. Nor a job he really wanted to partake in for that matter. But sometimes you have to do shit you don’t want to do, and that’s okay. Let that be a lesson learned. Or not. I doubt he learned anything from it.

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"Sheogorath" and "The Hero of Kvatch" (korone belongs to @getvalentined)

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Feel free to talk about it in the tags!