#is the name of my new character....and hes a nord

[hiddenbeks]

hmmmmmm rotating idea for a new skyrem character......

[tumbleweed-writes]

Death and the Lady: Chibs Telford x Reader

An idea I've been tossing around in my head. Might continue it if anyone is interested in more.

--------

The plan to pull any forensics team from Lodi heading to the Sons burnt warehouse and the two dead bodies in the cellar of said warehouse was a bold one. Jax was proud of himself for  coming up with a creative solution that would require no spilt blood.

He spoke quick to present his plan to his uncertain brothers. “Look, all we need for a murder is bodies and a crime scene.”

Chibs was fast to speak, not quite getting how this was any different from the prior plan they’d had to just kill some Nords and attract the attention of Lodi’s forensics team. "Ya lost me Jackie."

Jax replied the answer was so obvious. “Skeeter, guy’s got more gambling debt than he can handle. I’ll make it worth his while.”

“The cemetery guy?” Bobby questioned doubt clear in his voice.

Jax nodded his head sure of his plan. “Yeah, I give Lodi a front-page murder and we don’t stir up another shit-storm that might bite us in the ass.”

He cringed the second the words left his lips. There was only one issue that might screw up the plan. Skeeter the Sons connection to access to Charming’s nearest crematorium and one of its oldest funeral homes wasn’t in town at the moment. 

“Shit.” the statement left him.

Tig groaned, not entirely thrilled that the plan was being shifted away from his original idea or just straight up murdering some Nord or some other scumbag. “What?”

Jax cringed again, hating to admit that there was a wrench in the plan. “I just remembered, Skeeter’s not in town.”

Tig stood up again ready to jump into action on the original plan. “Alright, that settles it. We stick to my plan.”

Jax spoke again, raising his voice as another solution entered his mind. “Y/N.”

Clay furrowed his brow, the name somewhat familiar though it had been years. “She's back in town?”

Jax ran a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving him. “Yeah, she’s taken over the family business apparently. She’s back. Been back for a few months now.”

Chibs frowned totally lost on just who this Y/N was that everyone but him seemed so familiar with.

He continued to follow the conversation, his interests peaking further as Jax spoke again. “I don’t know…she’s cleaned up her act apparently. She’s worth a shot though. She’s got enough history with the club. I don’t think she’s cleaned up enough to go running her mouth if we approach her with this.”

Clay shook his head at this news not missing a chance to push back against the idea that she’d be totally useless to them. “Money talks, clean act or not. You make contact with her, get this plan on the road. Who knows, she might come in handy in the future, if she’s down to accept our gifts in exchange for a few favors. Might be smart to have a funeral director readily available. Who knows just what she has access to. From what I’ve heard her father left some debt behind and we all know her brother is off in the county nuthouse. She might be willing to play ball if we offer her some incentive to chip away at that debt.”

Chibs furrowed his brow all the further having to wonder just who this Y/N character was aside from a funeral director that his brothers all seemed to have some familiarity with. 

Chibs had been patched over in Charming for about a decade now, surely he would remember some funeral director that had some sort of wild streak that his brothers all seemed to remember? 

He mulled over the thought as the club proceeded to discuss their plans. 

He wasn’t the only one mulling over the change in plan. Jax felt his stomach twist uncertain if Y/N would be as willing to help out debt or not.

He’d heard the gossip around town and it all seemed to indicate that little miss Y/N had turned over a new leaf and had really matured from the twenty year old girl who’d been sent away by her father years before. 

Jax rubbed the back of his neck, his stomach churning at the path that lay ahead of them. 

Y/N Y/L/N was no Skeeter, but she would work in a bind.

He just hoped she was not as on the straightened arrow as it appeared.

—---------------------------------------------------

The cemetery in Charming was actually quite massive despite the smaller town. Generations upon generations had been buried on the land. On the property sat a crematorium that was used by the few funeral homes in Charming as well as a chapel where services might be held.

One of the funeral homes that often used the on sight crematorium was Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home.

Ironically enough, there weren’t any sons in the business…at least not anymore.

Y/N Y/L/N had taken up the mantle of her father’s business. The funeral business was something she’d fought against for so long. 

She had resented it in a way. She resented being known as the creepy kid in school because her father buried the dead. She resented the expectation that she would follow in her father’s business once her brother had clearly proven he just wasn’t stable enough. She’d resented the fact that even though she was expected to follow this path that the And Sons part of the name wouldn’t be dropped.

She had rebelled and she’d rebelled hard. Charming’s local MC had given her an environment to indulge in that rebellion. She had used the environment to cope with her personal issues and heartbreaks. She’d barely been legal the first time she’d visited the Sons clubhouse and during each visit after that she’d allowed herself to fall into the chaos of a Friday night party.

A few years of her life had been dedicated to that chaos until she’d hit rock bottom. Drinking and associating with Charming’s criminal element had been fun, until it had not been so much fun.

Her father had given her an out and she’d taken in traveling east to start anew. She’d tried to find a life outside of death, but she’d found within a few years that she did have a genuine respect for the family business.

It was all she’d ever known and she’d decided to follow her father’s footsteps on her own terms. She’d enrolled in mortuary school out east and had found work upon gaining her license.

She’d assumed she’d finally escaped both Charming and her past.

The past had a way of biting you in the ass though. She’d learned that the hard way.

The family business had been left to her and though she wanted nothing more than to remain out east she’d realized that the family business wasn’t the only thing she’d inherited from her father.

Debts and her brother were now her responsibility. So, Y/N had traveled back west, back to Charming.

She should have known the MC would come knocking eventually. Her past associates would eventually realize she was back in town.

So, it should have been no shock with the crematorium doors swung open at least one familiar face walking in the door.

She turned from the cremains she’d been sifting through the thick rubber gloves she wore making her hands feel damp with sweat.

Chibs Telford wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but the pretty young woman standing by a flaming cremator wasn’t at all what he’d pictured when he heard the words funeral director.

She was not dressed all in black the way he’d been picturing. To be honest he’d imagined some stuck up and possibly even creepy looking woman in a black pantsuit.

The pretty woman standing by the cremator was wearing dark wash blue jeans of all things and a black tank top. Her brow was somewhat damp with perspiration from the heat of the crematorium. Chibs took notice of the bead of sweat that traveled down her neck disappearing between the valley of ample cleavage the sight sending a jolt of lust through him. She had a nice figure; attractive curves that were complimented by the tight fit of her jeans. Her long hair was piled on top of her head fastened with a clip in an attempt to deal with the heat. He furrowed his brow as he spotted a pair of baby pink converse sneakers on her feet. 

She was less Morticia Adams than he’d been anticipating. She looked more like she should be hanging out at a farmers market or maybe having ice cream at one of the mom and pop parlors on Main Street. 

The pretty woman he’d been so unabashedly admiring finally spoke a sigh leaving her lips. She looking none too pleased by her guests. “Jackson.”

Chibs felt his heart lift the soft sweetness of her voice not what he'd been expecting at all even if she didn't sound happy.

“Hey, darlin, long time no see.” Jax replied always the flirt even when on business.

Chibs frowned a small part of him, somewhat certain he didn’t like the clear undertone of a history between his brother and this young woman. He pushed back the thought knowing it was ridiculous. 

Y/N sighed, shaking her head, her eyes studying the friends Jackson Teller had brought along. She didn’t recognize a single face other than Jax Teller’s. Though she guessed it shouldn’t be too much of a shock. She’d been away for so long.

She didn’t study her company for long, a sigh leaving her. “I’m assuming this isn’t a social call.”

Jax gave her a small sheepish smile. “Not entirely.”

“Skeeter’s not around, I’m afraid. He’s out of town, hopefully not at the racetrack.” She remarked a small frown crossing her features at the thought of her father’s associate.

Although she didn’t approve of Skeeter’s conduct at times, she knew he’d been a loyal employee to her father. He was now her loyal employee. She appreciated that loyalty despite his habits.

That loyalty hadn’t stopped him from associating with the Sons of course, but who was she to judge given her own past. 

“They really cremate bodies here?” Half Sack spoke getting close to the cremator gazing within the flames.

“Aye an sometimes we do.” Chibs spat out smacking the prospect in the back of the head before yanking him from the machinery.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the thick Scottish brogue not entirely expected. She gazed at the owner of the accent unable to place him anywhere in her memories.

She knew her memories from that time in her life might be somewhat hazy, but she was sure she’d remember a Scottish accent in the middle of northern California.

She was certain she’d remember the man standing in front of her from the accent alone. She felt her stomach churn noticing the deep scars embedded into his cheeks. If she hadn’t remembered the accent then she definitely would have remembered the scars.

He gazed back at her his sunglasses dropping slightly, his dark eyes gazing at her, the action giving her an unexpected reaction.

She frowned, not entirely amused at the mixture of lust and curiosity that stirred up in her under his gaze.

She wasn’t that girl anymore, a voice in the back of her head scolded her. She’d grown up and changed. It had been almost ten years and she was a new person, a better person. She was no longer the biker groupie.

Jax stepped forward, breaking the spell that had seemed to wash over both Chibs and Y/N without anyone around them really taking notice. “We aren’t here to see Skeeter Darlin’. We gotta ask you a favor. I’m here to ask an old friend a small favor.”

“Favors are never small with you from what I remember. They also usually have a way of biting me right in the ass if my memory serves me right.” She replied, reluctant to pull her eyes from the Scotsman and back to her old friend.

Jax smirked, nodding his head. “Fair enough.”

He cleared his throat fast to speak again. “We need two bodies.”

“Jesus Christ, Jackson. Why are you coming to me with this? I’m not some club hangaround anymore. I’m trying to be a better person and you’re dragging me into this shit.” She snapped a groan leaving her as she took off her gloves slamming them down on the counter beside the cremains she’d previously been attending to.

Jax sighed, not entirely shocked by the reaction. He prayed he was right when he’d remarked that she wasn’t so on the straightened arrow that she wouldn’t go blabbing the information to the Charming P.D.

“I know it’s a lot to ask but…” He barely worked out before she spoke again.

“A lot to ask? You do realize when I got licensed I had to take several classes on the ethics of the funeral profession. I’m pretty sure handing out bodies to the local MC violates so many of those ethics I swore to uphold and is considered abuse of a corpse. You do realize I could lose everything if you fuck up and it leads back to me? You aren’t just asking me to let you borrow a freaking cup of sugar here, Jax.” 

Chibs twisted his lips somewhat amused by how browbeaten Jax seemed to look upon this outburst.

If the outburst had come from a less pretty woman, Chibs might feel frustration. After all, they were depending on this girl to help them out of an utter shit-storm.

A small part of him had to admire the balls she had to speak to a dangerous looking biker in that tone of voice. 

She was bold, bold and pretty were admirable traits in a woman. 

Jax reached in his kutte pocket pulling out a thick manilla envelope. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s a lot to ask, but we’re in a bind here. SAMCRO is willing to compensate you for taking the risk.”

He paused handing over the envelope feeling somewhat guilty to even bring it up. “I know your old man was struggling to keep things running towards the end. This could help alleviate some of the burdens he left behind.”

She gazed down at the envelope, part of her wanting to toss it right back in his face the other part of her wanting to toss in the cremator as a showing of just what she thought of his attempts to buy out her morals.

She cringed a the heft of the envelope her mind crossing over those burdens Jax was mentioning.

Business was steady, but her father hadn’t been in the best health towards the end. It hadn’t been easy to tackle some of the debt left behind even with steady business.

She also felt her mind flash to her older brother. Institutionalization was expensive, even on a state level.

She gazed within the envelope making up her mind knowing it might damn her soul. 

She shook her head, her jaw tight. “Two bodies?”

Jax nodded his head relieved that Clay had been right. Money talks. “Yeah, one white guy and a Mexican guy.”

She rolled her eyes, tempted to snap that this wasn’t a custom order shop and he’d get what he got and he’d be damn happy with it.

She gazed at the still flaming cremator. “I had a guy who died in a work accident….uh worked for the electric company. It’s a closed casket. He didn’t have enough of a family to give a shit and suddenly want an open casket at the last second. They’d barely even pay for me to do the embalming. Stop by the funeral home in a couple of hours and you can have him.”

She paused shifting in place, hating herself for doing any of this. “There’s a fresh burial, one of my guys just filled in the hole this morning…cheap casket. He should be fresh enough still, I’m a damn good embalmer…even with the cheap jobs.”

She gazed down at the envelope, a voice in the back of her head screaming she was completely soiling the profession she loved. She was scum. She’d been entrusted to care for these bodies and make sure they had a peaceful rest, and this was what she was doing.

She ran her thumb along the envelope, a louder voice claiming that the money would help.  The money would help ease the debt and help make sure her brother got the best care available.

Between the debt and her brother's care she was drowning.

She was at risk of losing a family business that had been there for generations. It was her legacy.

She knew she could sell the family business and pay some of those debts but that seemed like such a shameful thought. Then there was the issue of her brother. Daniel needed around the clock care and it got pricey. The money could help to keep providing that care.

Without the institution he'd be moved to being in an even worst institution as a practical ward of the state or worst kicked out of the hospital. She knew he wouldn't stay medicated on the streets and she couldn't take care of him. There was no way he could live with her in his condition. They'd gone down that road before. Her father couldn't care for Daniel and she sure as hell couldn't.

She knew she was betraying the dead by taking this money but a voice in the back of her head snapped that the dead didn't need money. She sure as hell needed the money. Selling her morals and ignoring her conscience was the one way out of tunnel of debts and uncertainty. This action would surely damn her to hell and she couldn't take a moral high ground that she was a better person now. 

It was damn hard to be the better person when you were stuck eating a diet of mostly ramen noodles and selling plasma just to barely scrape by. It was hard to be the good person when your brother needed yet another expensive medication to keep his symptoms under control. It was too hard to be the good person when you were so damn tired.

She knew she was going to hell for this, but she already felt like she was in hell half the time anyway with all the financial stress.

She sighed as Jax spoke, giving her a small grin. “Thanks Y/N. I know this is a big ask…”

“It is.” She interrupted a sigh leaving her.

She spoke again a grimace crossing her features knowing if she was damning her soul for this action she might as well fully commit. “From now on…you don’t go to Skeeter for favors. I’m your first contact.”

Chibs raised an eyebrow once again taken by the brass balls on the girl. He resisted the urge to smirk a little amused; she felt comfortable presenting this idea with as much of a fuss as she’d put up a second ago.

She spoke again, shaking her head. “You’re right, the money helps in more ways than one. I’m willing to do more favors in the future for a price…we both know I’m more reliable than Skeeter any day of the week.”

Jax grinned at the proposal. Maybe Clay had been right, having a funeral director in SAMCRO’s arsenal did hold the possibility of promise. “Of course, darlin’. You’ll be our first call. In fact we might need to borrow this crematorium later.”

“It’s done. Just call me. My number hasn’t changed.” She remarked that strange jealous feeling stirring up in Chibs’ gut again.

Her number hadn’t changed, a number Jax Teller apparently knew.

He didn’t have long to focus on the strange sense of jealousy or how it confused the hell out of him as the Sons turned to leave ready to leave and get this plan moving forward.

Chibs wasn’t pulled from his thoughts until Juice finally spoke, the man not having said anything this entire time. “I’m glad to be out of that place. It gives me the creeps.”

“Aye, the creeps.” Chibs remarked not able to focus on the environment they’d just been in the woman in that environment far more interesting. She was far from creepy.

To be honest Chibs Telford wasn't sure what to make of her. That concept puzzled him.

Juice watched as Jax sped up ahead of them before he spoke almost as though he could hear just what Chibs was thinking. “At least she’s not creepy as hell like Skeeter…I mean she's spooky given her job...but she is kind of hot…wonder what she meant by club hang around. She doesn't look like the average croweater...at least I don't get that vibe. Curious to know what that history is.”

Chibs frowned as that jealous little feeling stirred in him again. He shook it away a huff leaving him unable to stop himself from agreeing. “Aye…spooky.”

He paused shaking his head hating to admit that he was a little curious himself about just what the history surrounding Y/N was. 

[guarmommy]

Characters & Family Dynamics

I've been thinking about my Skyrim characters lately and want to explore their backstories more. Their families and their dynamics are an interesting start so I made these portraits.

Agnetha Goldenbraid (She/Her) was a happy child with a mother, father, and baby brother. She was born in Cyrodiil and raised on a small farm in Bruma, living the traditional Nord lifestyle.

Her father, Erland Goldenbraid, was a proud Nord who lived by the sword and valued family above everything else. He married his childhood sweetheart, a half-Imperial, half-Nord woman named Cassia Spada, and soon conceived their first child. Erland and Cassia were considerably easy-going with Agne but imbued Nordic customs and homesteading chores on her as soon as she began to walk. Her chores included helping her mother with domestic tasks, tending to animals, feeding chickens, and sometimes having run-ins with Folki, the grumpy goat that terrorized the townsfolk. Like any typical child, Agne played with other children and got in trouble when the adults weren't around.

When her mother got pregnant, Agne was exhilarated. Having a little sibling to play with tickled her little heart. After her brother Gunnar was born, Agne adored him and proudly accepted her new role as the protective big sister.

As the Great House Dres dictates, family, honor, and tradition weighed heavily on every household member's shoulders. Lorthyn and Favani imposed merciless cruelty on their rivals and slaves. None of their three children were spared from the whips and chains, both figuratively and literally.

To say Zalyn Dres (He/Him) grew up in a strict household would be an understatement. At a young age, Zalyn was forced to undergo grueling tasks. His father Lorthyn would drag him on slave raids in the dangerous swampland to mold him into a warrior like his older brother Thalyn, as per Dres tradition. Zalyn was no stranger to being the brunt of his father's wrath. In response, he became more rebellious as he got older.

Zalyn's relationship with his mother Favani was cold and distant. He barely received motherly love from her. In fact, anytime Zalyn came to her for anything, she would either ignore him or harshly shoo him away, paying him no attention. She enabled her husband's ways of disciplining the children, especially on Zalyn, and took her cruelty out on servants and Dresla, her youngest daughter.

Despite the venomous relationship with his parents, Zalyn enjoyed all the riches and privileges that came with being a Great House-born dunmer. He got along with Dresla and was protective of her, shielding her from their mother's whip on several occasions. As for his relationship with Thalyn, Zalyn revered him and sometimes felt envious of him since he was the oldest and favorite child.

Marlyn Rulvani (She/Her) was born a clone. Her "mother" Hekatah created her by accident via meddling in Daedric magic, giving her the mockery of a "failed clone". As powerful as she's beautiful, madness inevitably consumed her amid the experiments. Rumors say her mind was corrupted by the Daedric Prince of Madness himself.

Hekatah despised Marlyn, often berating and punishing her for every minor thing, whether it's wearing the wrong dress or growing her hair too long. She did everything she could to ensure that her clone daughter looked nothing like her.

There were softer moments, however. Marlyn was naturally a curious child so Hekatah facilitated this by allowing her free-reign to the library (mostly because Hekatah wanted nothing to do with her and wanted an excuse to whisk her away somewhere where she was out of sight and mind). Marlyn had the best tutors a young Telvanni apprentice could ever want and spent hours burying her nose in dusty tomes and books.

Nalin (They/Them) was born as Nauriel Silarume by an Alinor-born artisan and noblewoman. Anthea, whom Nalin thought was the most beautiful mer, was the daughter of a wealthy family that arranged a marriage for her with a captain of the Altmeri Dominion Navy. Much to her family's dismay, she ran off with the young, charismatic Corelas instead. Their marriage was progressive, even by Altmeri standards, and driven by genuine love, not wealth or elven purity.

Being only one child, Nalin grew up carefree and explored many hobbies and opportunities their heart desired, viewing the world as their oyster. Anthea and Corelas welcomed their child's adventurous spirit, encouraging them to pursue their passions to the ultimate extent of their capabilities. When Nalin proclaimed they wanted to be a performer, they fully supported that endeavor.

[kookaburra1701]

I know you deal in adopted NPCs, so I'm gonna ask some specific ones based on that :>

For Kaidan: What is their stance on taking a life? Do they kill without a second thought, in the name of a god or daedra, or do they adhere to pacifism? For Lucien: Do they regret journeying to Skyrim? (You have to understand how much I restrained myself from asking "what's his opinion on the bandit problem?") For Pascale: If they are a magic user, what is their favorite school of magic? Do they have a natural talent for magic, or does it require diligence and study? For Borgakh: What is their favorite kind of food that can only be found in Skyrim? For Olur: What are their opinions on the civil war? Do they support a side or leave them to their own devices?

Hello friend! Heh you know me very well with my habit of adopting NPCs and shaking them very hard giving them loving safe homes. For this ask game I will take a page out of your book and answer in-character. :D

For Kaidan: What is their stance on taking a life?

"If you're doubting the strength of my sword-arm, you've no need to worry. I've killed many things, many people; I haven't lost a patron yet! To tell the truth... I used to not think about it at all. Brynjar never talked about how he felt when he had to kill someone, but by that time whenever we weren't on a job he was always at the bottom of a bottle, so maybe it bothered him more than he let on."

Do they kill without a second thought, in the name of a god or daedra, or do they adhere to pacifism?

"A pacifist? Do you know what a sell-sword is? I'll give you a hint, I'm not a shopkeeper specializing in edged weapons. The only thing anyone in Skyrim needs to know is that I was brought up by and as a Nord, and I honor our traditions. I call upon Kyne for strength, if She feels I'm worthy. Anything more is no one's business but my own."

For Lucien: Do they regret journeying to Skyrim?

"Skyrim, on the whole, has been simply marvelous! I'll grant you there were some slight hiccups in the beginning. And a few brushes with certain death in the middle. Some recent moments where I thought it would all end. But it all worked out ! And just think about all the exciting adventures I would have missed if I'd decided to stay in the Imperial City, locked up in some tower only reading about the things I've seen! I thought I'd be fortunate to write a few treatises, but now I've got enough material for at least ten volumes!"

(You have to understand how much I restrained myself from asking "what's his opinion on the bandit problem?")

"If that's supposed to be a joke I'm not laughing. Sit down Kaidan. I'm going to assume you didn't mean anything by it, and we're all going to forget it was ever asked."

For Pascale: If they are a magic user, what is their favorite school of magic?

"Oh I adore Conjuration! People don't seem to know all the things you can summon - sure they know about weapons like bows and swords, but did you know there's things like furniture in Oblivion? You can take it, too! Sometimes there's sticky stuff on it or it smells bad, but if you keep trying you'll usually get something good. Lockpicks are my favorite. And that doesn't even touch on my familiar, or atronachs! Conjuration means never being lonely, and your new friend has to do what you say!"

Do they have a natural talent for magic, or does it require diligence and study?

"Mistress Clarreau -my governess- said that I had the largest magicka pool of any of her students! I didn't have to study for most spells at all, but she always making me do exercises and such like. Do you know how tedious it is to light and extinguish a candle flame one hundred times when you could just as well burn the entire castle to ash with a thought? It's very tedious. Maybe I wouldn't want to burn down the castle if I didn't have to do such ridiculous things as exercises."

For Borgakh: What is their favorite kind of food that can only be found in Skyrim?

"My favorite food can now only be found in the Ashpit, Outlander. And that is if Hearth-Wife Grutha feels like giving the slaves who serve there her recipe golden-cup mushroom and goat cheese pasty."

For Olur: What are their opinions on the civil war?

"It's a lot of humans fighting a long way from here over one of their gods. The chaplains in the Legion always said the gods were better than Daedra like Malacath but if they were they wouldn't need mortals to fight for them, to my way of thinking. But if things go too poorly for the Legion they're going start calling up levies, and those of us who have served before will be first on the lists. I hope Mor Khazgur is too isolated for them to bother with me."

Do they support a side or leave them to their own devices?

"The last time a lot of Nords calling themselves "Stormcloaks" came through the Reach things were bad. I was very young, but I remember the smoke from the burning Reachclan camps turning the sun red, and the air poisonous. You know the stronghold Rahkzuga Yal? No you don't, because it doesn't exist any more. The Nords in blue didn't care if what they burned belonged to Reachclans or not, only that it didn't belong to Nords. The Chief and his Shield-Wife died defending their stronghold, and it still burned. Now his son Ghunzul and the Rahkzuga clan is having to make do in some ruin down south in Falkreath. I don't know why they didn't clear out of Skyrim altogether but they always were strange ones.

"But that doesn't answer your question. I support whichever side will leave Mor Khazgur alone, and not meddle in things they don't understand. I don't understand the Reachfolk and their hagravens so I don't meddle with them, and things are just fine as long as outsiders don't get involved. If only more people acted like me."

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

WIP Wednesday

Hi, hello. I haven't been active in a while. Truth is that I'm in my exam session, and a lot is happening in real life and I'm overwhelmed. However, @bostoniangirl21 tagged me last week and sharing my love for writing with you guys always puts me in a better mood! So here is a little snippet of Chapter 3 of 'Hymn of the High Seas' that I managed to write while I was still on vacation! Also, @sheirukitriesfandom tagged me to make some ocs with this picrew, and I'm using this post as a combo😆. Thank you guys so much for the tags, they really make my day <3 <3

I'm tagging @sheirukitriesfandom and @bostoniangirl21 back and also @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @dirty-bosmer @thelavenderelf @illumiera for either the wip, the picrew, both or none, whichever you want, of course. 💖💖

~

“IT’S HER! THE ONE WHO ESCAPED FROM STROS M’QAI! SHE FITS THE DESCRIPTION!” someone shouts, catching Signe’s attention and sending her mind spiraling into madness with fear, desperation and guilt of dragging Rhaim with her into this doom. Several Thalmor surround them, far too many to fight, even as a team. Signe’s letting herself get distracted, feeling almost paralyzed with fear. ‘Not them. I’ve dragged my crew into peril before we even set sail.’ she thinks, but her thought bubble is violently popped by arms capturing her, making her drop her scimitar to the ground. 

“WE’VE CAUGHT THE DISGUSTING WORM!” A Thalmor shouts right by her ear, so hard that it’s now ringing. “You’re ours now, disgusting, filthy Nord! TAKE THE REST OF THEM ALONG! More practice dummies for our torture adepts-” is all he gets to day before his head gets cut off, falling to the ground with a haunting thud, rolling somewhere away. The others have little time to react because blades cleave through them like a reaper's scythe through a field of fragile blossoms, leaving behind a trail of blood and death. Thalmor bodies start falling around them, setting them free, and in the end, a cloaked figure stands with two katanas unseathed and arms open. The cloak is not like the rest of the thieves', signaling that whoever this is, is not with the Guild. Like fine silk, black robes fall on broad shoulders. The figure raises his head, showing a glimpse of fair skin and pale, pink lips.

“They’re looking for you. Why?” he asks, voice deep and an accent that Signe’s never heard before.

“We escaped Stros M’qai.” She says, panting, and the man finally lifts his gaze, piercing grey eyes looking at her from under a fringe of fine ebony hair.

“Wasn’t hearing things after all.” he huffs, the faintest hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Come with me. All of you.” he says swiftly, and starts moving through the crowd.

The crew exchange glances, silent agreements quickly passing by each and every one of them, and Signe starts catching up to their mysterious saviour.

~

Hmmmm, who could this mysterious saviour be? A new oc that I'm obsessed with, of course! He's Akaviri, and his name is Renjiro. Unfortunately, he's only going to be a secondary character in HOTHS, but he will appear more times throughout the fic!

And for the picrew, I chose to make him!! Look at my boy!

I have another oc that I made with this picrew, which is Edward!! He will be a crew member, and he's a sad blond blorbo (I have to have at least one sad blond blorbo in each project of mine apparently). Also, the hand that cups his face? It's a certain crewmate :D!

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

Hi. I think you're super cool and awesome. I have figured out that you like Destiny and Skyrim, what other video games are you really into? Do you have OCs about games other than Destiny as well, and can you talk about them?

Aaaahhhhhh I LOVE YOU!!!!!! Thank you oh my gooooddddd!!!!

I absolutely have tons of OCs, mainly for The Elder Scrolls, Destiny (obviously), and Minecraft. I'll do my best to summarize their stories, but there's A LOT!!!

I'll go ahead and uhh... put the characters in a read more so I don't make anyone scroll for 15 miles to see the next post.

For Skyrim, my absolute BABY is my first ever character and my main, Hagen Dovahkiir/Zoorjunin. His creation is shrouded in mystery, so much that even Hagen himself doesn't remember anything but flying the planes of Tamriel to hunt and survive, though he's not sure for how long. He is a man who takes on the form of a half Nord and half Dragon, bearing the horns, wings, tail, and scales of the Dovah, but the rest of himself looks Nord. He's the Dovahkiin of legend, and his first truly vivid memories are of being captured by the Imperials and placed on the prison cart.

Hagen spent his time in Whiterun doing deeds to try gaining the favor of its people, and the jarl took a liking to the man, especially after Hagen wandered entirely by chance into Jorvaskr and joined the Companions, then wound up being their Harbinger. This earned the man, who, given everything happening with Dragons, felt as though Skyrim would view him as a monster. But Hagen continued his deeds throughout many holds, ultimately taking on Alduin and succeeding.

This, with his Harbinger position, earned Hagen fame and heroism like no other, but still the war plagued Skyrim. Balgruuf, closest jarl to Hagen, watched this half Dragon hone his Dovah prowess until, eventually, the man could take on the form of a full Dragon, shifting between forms at will. He was granted the name Zoorjunin, but Hagen refused to give this to any old person. Only to those whom he trusted most, limited to his husband, Farkas, and jarl Balgruuf whom he viewed as a brother.

And when Balgruuf outright Shouted for "Zoorjunin", Hagen knew grave danger was afoot, and flew forth to his brother wherein, gathered inside the halls of Dragonsreach, every hold's jarl except for Ulfric, bowed. They needed a king. None were more fit for this position than Hagen. And Hagen wanted NOTHING to do with this, but they convinced him no less. Hagen went with the forces of all holds at his back, charging Ulfric's castle and Shouting him off the throne wherein he challenged the false king to combat until submission. There, Hagen took the crown and throne, and with the help of all jarls, all allies, all friends, he eventually eliminated the Thalmor from Skyrim, and then Tamriel as a whole.

Before he knew it, he'd unified the land under an empire of his own make. After countless years, the Dragon of old tales became so powerful that new legends were written across the winds of time itself, and it's said these reached the Divines because, soon enough, Hagen ascended. He was named Zoorjunin, the Divine of Benevolent Change.

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

Next up you have my sweet man, Ragnar, aka Varlor.

Ragnar began his story as a Nord. He was Skyrim's most famed bandit, determined to form a throne of his own to sit upon so tall that none could tear him down. But his infamy gained the man a bounty in all nine holds, with the price of murder for each. Ragnar eventually was captured and brought for execution. But on his way to be executed, a Dragon ransacked the carriage and killed all but Ragnar, who saw this creature flying toward Whiterun. He was free. But so many died. And countless more were going to. Ragnar was no murderer, and in fact he hadn't really killed anyone unless he needed to before. So he went to Whiterun's gates and warned them of the attack, surrendering himself under the promise that they'd go and kill that thing.

It was here that guards brought Ragnar to a holding cell, and the man knew he'd meet his end. But when jarl Balgruuf approached, he offered the bandit a deal.

High King Hagen, his brother, was off fighting the Thalmor in the east. He could not take down the Dragon for these people. But if Ragnar could, then Balgruuf would ask his brother Hagen to clear every bounty on Ragnar's head in all holds.

Ragnar took this chance, killed the Dragon, and was a free man. He swore to make the most of this. Thus, he went ahead and chose to do something with his life for once: join the Dawnguard. Ragnar freed Serana and ventured forth with her for many months, and each time they visited a town, Ragnar would pray to Talos's shrines, but each prayer seemed more hopeless and desperate. Everything he asked for, all wishes for safety and ease, were met with peril and fright and ruin. Ragnar was broken, with only Serana and the Dawnguard to comfort him.

Eventually, Ragnar and Serana reached Knight-Paladin Gelebor, and was told to take on the trials of Auri-El. Frustrated, he went ahead no less and began the arduous journey across the Forgotten Vale. But oddly enough, with each scoop of water into his ewer, Ragnar felt a sense of fulfillment and peace ever growing inside. And when he finished, Ragnar almost felt an embrace of warmth within. Like the sun existed in part inside himself. He went on to kill Arch-Curate Vyrthur, and Lord Harkon, but the entire way that warmth just stuck.

Ragnar went to Gelebor and spoke to him of this. How everything changed when he entered the Vale as if it called to him. Here, he learned that Auri-El was Akatosh, the Dragon Father, but also the Divine of Light. And it was a Dragon that gave Ragnar his freedom and drove him to be better. It was ultimately this path which led him to the Inner Sanctum of Auri-El where he was FINALLY at peace. He didn't know what this meant.

Though his answers became more clear the more Ragnar studied Auri-El and the Snow Elves, and he worked with Gelebor to find others. Gelebor couldn't leave the Sanctum since it was his sacred duty to remain there, but Ragnar went ahead and began finding the remaining survivors, bringing them home to the Vale and temple. And with each journey, Ragnar grew closer to the light of Auri-El until, one day, he awoke within it as a Snow Elf, the voice of Auri-El not audible but there in the form of destiny. He bore upon his back the wings of light carrying runes of his people, the Snow Elves, and within his grasp was the sword of Auri-El himself granted to Ragnar so he may fight forevermore as the god's champion, and a symbol to his people that the light lives.

They live.

Thus he was granted, by his people, the name Varlor, or in Falmeris "symbol". And now, Varlor works to revive the Snow Elves in Skyrim and Tamriel as a whole, bringing them home to the Vale to be one with their god Auri-El at long last.

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

My last Skyrim blorbo is not as developed. Idk where I'm going with his backstory really, but he's an ancient Dragon Priest named Moroviik.

Essentially he rose when the Dragons returned to Skyrim once more, and here he honored the new king of Skyrim, Hagen/Zoorjunin, for the fact that he was a Dragon. Moroviik walked the land, curious to see what changed over thousands of years, but stopped when Draugr attacked a castle on the edges of The Rift hold. He found within the walls, one minor king who was fighting these Draugr and cursed Moroviik for causing these relentless attacks.

Moroviik, however, had no idea what this was or who this man was. He went ahead and, with magic and blade, slew the Draugr.

The king was astounded at the Dragon Priest's power, seeing as these undead were relentlessly laying siege to the castle for months now. He offered Moroviik riches and enchanted gifts if he could delve into the catacombs below and destroy whoever was spearheading these attacks.

Of course, Moroviik was up for a challenge and agreed. He ventured below, and met his match with a VERY powerful Draugr lord. One who nearly downed the Priest where he stood. But Moroviik succeeded regardless, and slew this Draugr, returning to the king with its sword as proof. So the king and his subjects celebrated in joyous glee as they enjoyed their freedom at long last.

But this was FAR from over.

The entire castle shook from beneath to above, its courtyard grounds splitting open in a giant rift as hundreds upon hundreds of Draugr climbed out, and charged.

The king led his people to safety, and Moroviik saw as the lord whom he had slain before rose once again and swore him out, damning the Priest repeatedly. It escaped into the fray and charged for the inside of the castle, and Moroviik fought. He fought all he could, taking down the Draugr quickly for the most part, and eventually made his way inside.

There he found, upon the balcony, the king bloodied and weak, impaled by his own sword. Moroviik BEGGED the king to keep living, but the king asked the Priest if he would defend these people eternally and uphold the good of the castle. Moroviik said he would. And there the king passed his crown to the Dragon Priest's hands, and died.

From the fray with a thunderous cry, Moroviik charged with the king's blade in hand, crown upon his head, and took the Draugr lord, driving the sword through its chest and slicing it upward through the face and skull, ending the terror and plight at last.

That night, the castle mourned, for their king was dead. But a new one had been crowned. And upon the gates of this castle, Moroviik put the old king's armor, and forever lived as its defender.

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

For ESO I've only got the 1 OC. Khyrus Morn Dynar/Nenalata Dynar.

Khyrus had a Nord name that's been lost to history now. He was born to his Nord parents as a child, unwanted and unloved. When finally he was old enough, Khyrus told them he loved men and wanted to go into the city to find a boyfriend. But his parents were abhorred and demanded their son not return from that city unless he had a wife and children for them.

Khyrus signed up with the Ebonheart Pact for shelter, pay, food, and purpose. He abandoned his Nord name here, and gave the Pact his new one of Khyrus Morn, and thus began his adventures across Tamriel.

The Nord achieved many great things, saving the Tribunal and befriending them all greatly. He'd earned the favor of Skald King Jorunn, Queen Ayrenn, and ESPECIALLY King Emeric.

When he learned he was the Vestige destined to end the Planemeld, Khyrus had to enter Coldharbour, and so he did. Here he'd met the last Ayleid king, Laloriaran Dynar, whom Khyrus befriended GREATLY. The king and Khy confided in one another, but more Khyrus in him. And soon enough, the Nord found a comfort he hadn't known in Laloriaran, almost as if the man was a fatherly figure to him. He began inquiring about the Ayleids and their history, their lives, their language, and the king was all too happy to impart his knowledge upon Khyrus.

Furthermore, Laloriaran granted Khyrus knowledge in the way of the Templar, giving this lonely Nord the light of the gods to wield as his purpose.

But when Khyrus charged Molag Bal, and slew the god, many casualties were wrought including that of Laloriaran Dynar. Khy fell to the king and grasped him, begging him to stay, calling him "Ata" or "father" in Ayleidoon. But it was the king's end, and he passed his sword to Khyrus calling him "kynde angua" or "my son". Laloriaran made Khyrus promise to keep fighting for the good of all the Aurbis, and the moment Khyrus swore he would, the king passed.

Khyrus was broken and lost. Distraught beyond measure. He returned with his soul to Tamriel, to his boyfriend Emeric, but he was VERY different. And for all his journeys taken, Khyrus would wander the ruins housing deceased Ayleids whom he'd try communing with to find his father. Yet the more he spoke, the less he heard, and the weaker the light he wielded grew until, one day, the Ayleids were silent, and his light all but gone.

The Nord swore to himself he'd never touch a mead bottle, but in desperation, he grasped one and downed it, falling unconscious. Here he woke, dreamlike, in an Ayleid ruin he'd not seen before, and found a golden ghost clad in armor that guided his way through. When it merged with a tomb, making it glow, Khyrus reached for this tomb and touched it himself, sobbing as he apologized to his lost father for having abandoned the light and his purpose. He was lost as well, and there was nothing he could do.

But a familiar voice promised to be his light, then, and thus Khyrus became embraced, in reality, by Laloriaran Dynar who appeared entirely to hug his son. Together, both returned to Tamriel, and Khyrus's light returned, himself a templar once more.

But it was the Ayleids with whom Khyrus truly connected. Their ways of martial prowess, and his father's desire to bring them justice and a good name and legacy of equality, this had all been passed to him in a sense when Laloriaran gave him the sword. Khyrus was the most honorable and just man, more powerful than any gods could rival. But he was lost, never liking being a Nord because it tied him to the parents who abandoned him entirely.

And thus answered the gods who, as for Ragnar/Varlor, they granted a peace to Khyrus in his sleep, and when he woke, he'd become Ayleid himself. And so he was crowned by his father, before the remaining Ayleids who'd gathered to their king, as Prince Nenalata Dynar.

Nenalata went on to marry Emeric, and Count Verandis Ravenwatch, and obtain MANY more male lovers including two Daedra: Rynkyus and Torvesard.

He, too, becomes an Aedric god. The Aedric god of New Beginnings.

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

Minecraft is my baby, my comfort game, and a few years ago I'd made my first full survival playthrough without commands, cheats, or changing modes, despite playing since release more than 10 years beforehand.

Thus began my Minecraft universe with Fengel and Hamod!

Fengel is the Hero of the End. The one who defeats the Ender Dragon and whatnot.

Basically, the story is a LOTR/Minecraft crossover, since I gave Fengel a Nazgul skin and it took off from there. He was a Nazgul, but forsook Sauron after the downfall of Gondolin from which he hardly fled from alive. Here, the Nazgul escaped and found himself in a strange world of blocks, needing to craft and forage to survive. He'd been given white wings, his bones much lighter than they were before, and began to set up a small shack where he landed upon arrival, thus making a way to survive.

But it wasn't long before monsters closed in and attacked, many blowing him up. No less, Fengel woke each time where he'd last slept, since he held his Ring of Power still, which maintained the power of revival.

Soon enough, Fengel was approached by curious Villagers who asked for his assistance. They claimed Fen looked strong, and that his wings could carry him high for his immensely great archery, which would help shoot down Pillagers that plighted their lands.

Fen was hesitant. He feared failing these people, but they insisted. Thus he went ahead, and prepared to defeat a raid on the nearby village. But as hard as he fought, he died and died and died again and again, and one by one the Pillagers took the Villagers until not one remained, and these monstrous beasts retreated.

Fengel mourned. He'd failed the people who needed him. He was broken and torn, returning to his shack in great sorrow.

Time and time again, villages approached Fengel to gain his help, and every time the Pillagers won and destroyed all lives but his own. This ring was a curse, but Fen couldn't be free of it.

Yet finally he discovered one place wherein he could save its people: The End. And so Fengel ventured into the Nether, across fortresses and gathering all he could, forged himself armor and went ahead to the End portal which he opened. Finally, he went into it, and fought the Ender Dragon to its death, succeeding as he'd liberated all and took home the egg as a prize.

A newfound might filled Fengel, and Pillagers took notice, coming forth to his shack in attempt to end him. But the Nazgul hero would not give, and he slew them. And the next band. And the next. Soon he'd forged the Bannerfield where he kept every banner of every Pillager attack, as a warning to all who dared enter his territory that he could not be defeated. And the field grew to well over 100 banners. Fen built walls to keep them out, extending these to the villages nearby which survived raids, and thus Fengel formed his empire of safety for all.

New Gondolin.

The Pillagers weren't happy with this, obviously. One band reached through the walls one night and attacked Fen's home. The hero fought them off, but one fled. Fengel killed the remainder, and tried to go inside his home only to find that fled Pillager looking for a fight. Here, Fengel trapped him inside a stone structure from which this lone enemy couldn't escape.

No less the Pillager tried to shoot Fengel repeatedly until his bow broke, and then his spirit. He cried, knowing his life was forfeit from here on. He'd not died with his band, and he fled from them when they were killed. He was a coward, and soon other Pillagers would come for him to end his life for this cowardice.

But to his surprise, Fengel began to build... something. A wooden structure around this trapped Pillager. One with windows? And bookshelves? And a bed???

Fengel broke down the trap and asked the Pillager for a name. When the Pillager said he had none, the hero called him "Hamod". A name of his people from the old Gondolin that had fallen ages ago now. He told Hamod he could stay here, work the farmlands since he needed some help with culling the fields and feeding the animals, and thus Fengel would keep him safe. But one condition: Hamod could never again raise any weapon for any reason.

For months, Hamod lived on Fengel's land, tending to the crops and animals, storing the food away and letting Fengel cook more than enough to feed them both. It was... strange. For the hero that hated Pillagers so much to be kind to one? Hamod didn't understand.

And one day, the guttural grunts of all too familiar sound approached, and Fengel found Pillagers gathered in a surrounding force around his home, demanding he submit to them for kidnapping their fellowman. Fen raised his wings to the sky and fired away, taking them down as best he could. But far too many came and overwhelmed him. The hero died and revived so SO many times, and meanwhile Hamod watched this in terror, seeing the man who had shown him genuine kindness for the first time be killed repeatedly.

As Fengel remained defenseless, alone, he was ready to give in to death endlessly until one arrow fired from the rooftop, and a voice cried out to let the emperor go.

The Pillagers and Fen looked only to find Hamod with a bow stored away by Fengel, and donning armor the hero forged. Hamod became ceaseless in his fury, shooting down the Pillagers as best he could to give Fengel the chance to fight back, too. And he did. And together they defeated the raid.

Hamod cried to Fen and apologized for betraying the promise made. But Fengel hugged Hamod and called the man his hero, kissing his cheek. He told the man to keep the bow and armor. He'd need it in the coming days.

Eventually, Fengel and Hamod began growing closer after this, with Fen teaching his new hero how to read the enchanting tomes, how to forge weapons and armor for himself, and so much more. And if ever Hamod felt scared or alone, Fengel was there to hold him and comfort the man.

One day, Hamod woke to being alone, with only a letter on his table that, inside, held a single ring. It was addressed with his name, and inside, said that Fengel went on an adventure. But he wanted Hamod to meet him. Take the ring, traverse the world, and find the hero emperor.

Hamod gathered his resources. Food, enchanted weapons and armor, arrows, torches, tools, and he went ahead across the world over snowy mountains, through deep caverns and into the Nether itself, coming out the other side to a gorgeous open field of flowers and a wonderful sunset. And sitting on the rocks he found Fengel waiting.

Hamod approached, and Fen took the ring from him, then took his own, and an enchanting tome. Here, he duplicated the power of revival to Hamod's ring, turned around, and knelt to the man, then gave a speech about how this empire of New Gondolin had been made with the sake of love and safety for all, but that he couldn't have done it without the love and safety granted by Hamod. This man was Fengel's heart and soul, and he refused to carry on without him. There, he presented the now enchanted ring, and asked Hamod to marry him.

The former Pillager agreed, and both held close as they embraced dearly and kissed. The two were married by a Villager priest, and forever lived invincible, the defenders and emperors of New Gondolin.

[umbracirrus]

Okay - so I have set myself an aim to at least have a portrait drawn for each of my Elder Scrolls OCs. I have started drawing them over this weekend, and am going to gradually get them neatened out, coloured, etc....

These are the ones which I have started so far! Aelia, Drissa, Florian, Elyse, and Thea.

I have a long list of the rest to work on before I can so much as start on colours or anything though!! At least five more Dragonborn characters (Siriane, Iduna, Aevra, Ivetta, and Maewynne), and six straight up OCs (Elyse's parents Ingja and Edwyn, and the Whiterun Guard Foursome Ingrida, Barknir, Sorik and Fjora-)

I'll give more details about these five under the cut though, because I can😊

Aelia

Imperial Hero of Kvatch who ends up mantling Sheogorath after the Oblivion Crisis is ended. She finds herself in the Shivering Isles after driving herself away from everyone through her grief, including her own child, which had her acting volatile and hostile towards those who wanted to help her. She does, however, have a sweet spot for flowers and butterflies, and always felt calmer around them.

Drissa

Known as a Hero of Kvatch alongside Florian, though is less visible in the spotlight than he is and that suited her just fine, because the spotlight had already shunned her. She doesn't join the Blades, and instead tries to find her place in the world, find a place where she belongs. She thought that she had already done that, when she earned herself the title of Grand Champion of the Arena through defeating the Grey Prince, but after getting framed for murder she finds herself with nothing once more. But don't worry - once she gets her revenge, a shrouded hand reaches out with an offer she couldn't possibly refuse. A family of her own.

She's blunt and prefers to respond to things with her hammer, but once someone breaks through the tough exterior, she's a bit more open. But only a bit. She doesn't know when she'll lose everything again, after all.

Florian Livius

Hero of Kvatch alongside Drissa, and is the more visible of the pair - quite ironic, given that he starts out as a thief in the Thieves Guild. Not a good one, mind you, as he had doyens sighing at the mere mention of his name with how often they had to clear bounties on his head, but on the days where he wasn't caught, he could bring in a fair amount of coin and that was the only thing stopping him from being kicked out.

After getting arrested and placed in the same cell as Drissa, then being a witness to the Emperor's final request and final moments, he had a moment where his mind faltered because for once, somebody actually believed in him - even if that somebody had just been killed before his eyes. The Emperor trusted him to get that task done. And after meeting Martin, and watching how he took the changes in stride... Florian made his mind up there and then that he would change his ways and be a better person because of Martin. For him, even.

He cut his ties with the Thieves Guild, and threw himself headfirst into his new responsibilities as a Blade, and to his amazement, realised that his reputation had flipped just like a coin - where once he was a criminal, he was now a hero. He strives to help others realise that they can do the same.

Elyse Verne

Dragonborn who takes pride in her mixed Breton and Nord heritage, so much so that she decides to venture north from where she spent her teenage and young adult years in Chorrol to Skyrim, to see the land that her mother, Ingja, would speak so fondly of. Obviously, she gets caught up at the border ambush, and sets forth the events which lead to her discovering that she is Dragonborn.

Rather than taking the advice of the Jarl of Whiterun and visiting the Greybeards, she instead tries to find her own way of understanding what she was by going to the place where her parents met - Winterhold. She spends six months doing her research at the college whilst avoiding her uncle in the city, unaware that she had very much caught the eye of the Thalmor through her very specific research topics. After six months and a lot of drama unfolding in Winterhold, she finally takes Balgruuf's advice... and almost exactly a year later, she defeats Alduin in Sovngarde. During this time, she made herself a home in Whiterun, and found that if there was anyone to put her trust in, it was the people of Whiterun hold and its Jarl.

Little over a year and a half after that, during which she defeats Miraak, Elyse finds herself slowly being dragged into the civil war taking place in Skyrim, but not with regard to the fighting, instead because of all the politics and her status. That worries not just her, but Balgruuf too, especially given that she doesn't agree with or want to be involved in the war, same as him. And those two happen to get very close in their solidarity...

Thea

Dragonborn who is a proud member of the Companions, though admittedly not as keen on being Harbinger. Of all of them, she found herself closest to Vilkas, and that closeness led to him being the only one to notice that she was not a fan of her title - even if she repeatedly kept saying out loud that Vilkas was a better fit than her.

The two of them gradually built up a system of mutual assistance, where she could tell when he needed help and vice versa, and it helped her with getting more comfortable in her role. Much of her part was helping him as he went through struggles with his lycanthropy until he felt ready to go to Ysgramor's Tomb, and even during that, she remained by his side even as Hircine lashed out against them both. She never mentioned to him that Hircine ended up punishing her for her involvement in cleansing both him and Kodlak of their wolf spirits though, resulting in her being plagued with nightmares of the hunting grounds and losing control of herself periodically when shifted.

Seeing each other through their troubles made their bonds incredibly strong, and they were the firmest of friends - even if one of them happened to be a werewolf.

She didn't really know when the two of them started being a couple though. They never really discussed it - it just sort of... happened. They gradually found themselves spending more and more time at her house in The Pale, just north of Whiterun, than in Jorrvaskr... and before they knew it, they were married and had a family of their own. Poor uncle Farkas was constantly travelling between the two places just to play with their children.

[gamergalcmc]

Hey guy! Remember my FNAF Skyrim AU? I'm finally working on it again! and here's more photos of character designs.

Here's Cassie and her dad(name not confirmed yet)

In my fic, Cassie's dad's name is a lore-friendly Redguard name: Afcasir. He is a scholar from Hammerfell who discovered Sun and Moon in the old dwemer ruin of  Bcharningth-zel.

He came to Skyrim to investigate the ruins of Kagrenzel and in doing so, he joined Freddy's pack of were-beasts.

Unfortunetly, due to Moon's... "problem" he was killed and his ghost stayed around to pass on info to the dragonborn. Cassie would be adopted by Roxy and Chika.

Here's Gregory: A nord child left orphaned by Skyrim's civil war and fended for himself in an old fisherman's shack until Freddy and Bonnie adopted him.

After Afcasir(Cassie's dad) joined, he quickly took up the hobby of fixing up dwemer automatons and making new things out of old scraps such as Foxy's prosthetic hand. He even fixed up DJMM.

DJMM: a modified dwemer spider that was repaired by Gregory and plays strange (Glamrock) music that the people of Skyrim never heard before. He performs in taverns with Freddy(a bard)

[voxblade]

You seem to reblog a decent amount of Skyrim from me now so I need you to give me your fav random piece of lore or knowledge or anything about any elder scrolls anything (I fully expect you to just make something up entirely)

Make that pieces, because I can't answer anything short form to save my life and there's a lot I've scrambled together overtime. Uhhh...

- I half-remember reading that apparently the dwarves were SO ATHEIST that when they found proof that gods existed, they went "fuck that" and yeeted themselves out of the continuity and into another dimension or something

- the dragonborn's power is shouts. I understand that they are divine or some shit and taken from an ancient draconic language or w/e but I refuse to believe at least one of those shouts isn't them screaming

"THAT'S MY OPINION"

(Or that at least it isn't a mod)

- there are some dudes called the nords and they collectively are the CEOs of racism. the whole of the nords. All of them.

- you can kill a dragon voiced by super mario himself. given that Italians are inherently evil, killing him appears to be the correct moral choice.

- The jester man you like is a mama's boy and the MILF in question is basically a weird shriveled raisin thing that lives in a coffin. #Hotgirl-goals. He also feeds cats to rats?? According to another mutual??? which as a fan of cats makes me sad, but as an even bigger fan of rats I find oddly cathartic, in a juvenile way. My babies have long been overdue for revenge for the billions of beautiful lives lost to cruel nature and cruel fate. Yes. Reverse the food chain. I hope they eat humans next. (Assuming this is even real.)

- there's some fucking guy you hate named Jason or something who wants to be a big deal but he's an absolutely terrible companion and he dies to fucking everything. He's not even cute in a pathetic meow meow way? Which sounds like me to be honest. Maybe I kin him without realizing. You don't know. I don't know.

- There is a long and arduous side quest not many players know about. In Whiterun, if you leave the Bannered Mare, there's a 1 in 76 chance you will find a strange NPC called Thes waiting by the door. If interacted with, Thes will ask the player a series of strange questions to try to get to know their character. Should the player answer to Thes's liking, he will say "ah. You've also lost the use for truth. This will serve you well". Thes will leave after saying this and the player will unlock the Kindred Spirit quest. It's a bit clunky from this point on, but essentially, you have various markers on your map to track down, each promising something "new", but whenever you get close to them, the positions will move and cannot be found, even through cheats. What the player must do is try for the same rolling chance that summoned Thes in the first place by entering and leaving the Bannered Mare over and over again, except when they succeed the roll this time, Thes will be replaced by a new identical character with a new name, insisting his name is Da. Da will ask the player if they are having any trouble meeting the objectives and the player has the option to call him out. This will learn a laugh ("but they just work! What's the commotion?"), and Da eventually adds a new marker to the map, this one leading towards the Den of Falsehoods (this is commonly confused with the Liar's Retreat). To make a long story short, this is also bullshit but I'm getting tired of summarizing. After a bunch of bullshit, at the end of the quest, Da will be waiting for the player in the core of the den, this time named "Beth". When confronted this time, "Beth" will talk to the player about the nature of truth and falsehood and the player can ask for them to reveal their true name. "Beth" will comply, but only after asking if you would ever love a liar like him. If you say no, "Beth" will nod and say he understands and also will tell the player to be excited for Fallout 76. This is very curious, and possibly reference to Bethesda's other franchise, Fallout, and its entry Fallout 76, which wasn't in development when Skyrim was first released. "Beth" will then leave the game and cannot be found again. If the player says yes, "Beth" thanks them and reveals their true face: a curious npc named Todd Howard. Todd Howard apologizes for his lies but curiously will not give the player any sort of reward for having done the quest. It is also possible from this point to marry him if the player is so inclined. This is ill advised, because Todd Howard will keep all of the money from whatever business he opens and he never sleeps, which some players reportedly find creepy.

- I like that little freak the adoring fan and how you can make him run off a cliff

- there is a mod (???) that lets you summon Santa Claus like a primordial ancient demon and I think it works for him. Santa really served cunt in that mod.

- Sheogoraths line of "CHEESE, FOR EVERYONE!!!" may be indicative of the fact he likes cheese.

[greyborn2]

Helen, Skuldafn and Markarth!

Helgen; Who was your first Skyrim character? Do you still make anything with them/play as them now? Oh gosh, had to wrack my brain for this one. Honestly, sadly, I do not remember. Whoever they were they are lost to my brain's void now. BUT!! I do remember the first character I finished the game with (and, funnily enough, the only time I've ever actually finished the main questline of Skyrim!) I've forgotten his name but it was a scrungly lil' wood elf archer (NOT stealth archer. Just the regular kind) and had the rough sorta background for them that he was from somewhere in southern Cyrodiil. Skingrad, I think?? I forget. I wasn't as in deep with NEEDING to make huge expansive backstories for every single one of my characters back then so he was pretty bland. But every now and then I remember him, mostly when thinking about the later quests in the main questline since he was there with me for that and my only first hand exposure to it.

Skuldafn; How do you feel about dragon priests? Conceptually? Love 'em. Honestly the dragon cult was one of my favourite things that Skyrim added to nord lore. I really just wish they'd done more with them, y'know? Heck, a lot of them even had a fair amount of character and story for them but you just don't really get a good chance to see it and they're very hidden off to the side, it feels. I guess I wish they were more involved. That, or (and this mildly ties into the next question), they'd played around with a resurgent Dragon Cult in the main questline and could've had a sorta singular human bbeg who is the new high priest of Alduin that you fight before entering Sovngard instead of Nahkriin. Have them pop up a few times and have some dialogue from him delving into WHY people might choose to follow Alduin and WHAT Alduin's current motivation is (world ending or world conquest? The game really likes to keep it... fuzzy).

Markarth; If you could rewrite one questline in Skyrim, which would it be? Ok ok. Two answers to this because... shush. Two answers. Simple and quick one first; the Forsworn questline. I wouldn't even so much as rewrite it as just, like, give it an actual proper conclusion. For the Silver Blood route I'd have it not just end at the killing of Madanach - once you're out they'd get you to hunt down the 'Matriarch' we hear about a few times in notes - once she's been dealt with the Forsworn being (mostly) replaced with regular bandits as more mercenaries and guards stomp down the reachfolk freedom fighters or drive them off into the mountains. Then for the siding with Madanach route ADD AN ACTUAL GOSH DARN METHOD TO HAVE HIM CROWNED ARD OF THE FREE REACH!!! Still so salty there isn't really a good mod for this - restoring a Reachfolk controlled Reach and just have it cut out of the civil war from that point on aside from maybe replacing the quest there with you doing some diplomacy to align the free Reach with whatever faction you're fighting on the war for. But longer answer? The main questline. Honestly I think it is the most egregiously... meh... in the entire game. Shortlist of changes, though: - Just cut the Blades out. They do not need to be there. - As the quest continues add in a renewed Dragon Cult. Nord worshipers (I'd also ideally restore the old nordic pantheon instead of the Imperial one) who have taken Alduin's return as their sign to go full in on dragon worship again. Have some NPCs turn out to be cultists and attack you in town like the Sleepers in morrowind or the Mythic Dawn in oblivion. Slowly introduce more and more cultist enemies into ancient nordic ruins and make them look less and less ruined as they and the draugr work together. Have a new dragon priest that can act as Alduin's mouthpiece to the player. - Sprinkle way more unique, named, dragon fights throughout the entire questline. Make them feel like real characters. Give each one a unique lair and dialogue lines and cultists. Refocus the questline way more on actually, y'know, being a dragon slayer. And make them unique and cool enough that it isnt just monotonous radiant quests. They can be there, too, but they shouldn't be your MAIN dragon hunting. - Do a better job of establishing Alduin's motives.

[late-nite-scholar]

WIP WThursday

I was tagged by @sylvienerevarine and it looks like fun. I’ve been working on a lot of projects lately. Lots of original stuff for things and finishing up TES fest stuff. But here’s a little excerpt from a wee bit of fic. This is a fairly new character, the child of one of my other characters, and a chance meeting on a rooftop late at night. 

***

   “And what do you want?”

   “I was curious. I didn’t think there was anyone important staying at this inn, not one you could steal anything useful from, at least.”

   “You’d be surprised. Are you going to call the guard? Because I warn ya that’ll make this a fight, lass.”

   “Wasn’t planning to call anyone. But we can fight if you want.” She chuckled again. “I’ll warn you, though, I wouldn’t go easy on you.”

   “Ha! You wouldn’t go easy on me? You fancy yourself a fighter?”

   “Oh, I do more than fancy. We could have quite the fun little scrap if you want. I suspect you’re not half bad, yourself. Thieves’ Guild?”

   “I am, yeah. You know of us?”

   “A little bit. My mother told me about your guild when I was growing up. But the ones in the Imperial City, and in Morrowind. Told me they considered joining up a few times, but it never happened.”

   “If your Ma’s half as good as you, it’s a loss for us, that’s for sure.” 

   “That’s kind of you. My mother would be flattered. You still want to have that fight?” She grinned, fingers stroking the hilt of one of her knives. 

 “Only if you want to. If not, I think I’d rather buy ya a pint. Not here, of course. But there’s plenty of taverns to be had.”

   “I can hardly say no to an offer like that. Lead the way, my good man. I think I’d love a pint right about now.”

   They flitted lightly over the rooftops, jumping to the next building. It was easier to climb, and they dropped to the ground in an alley. The thief pushed back his hood, revealing a handsome, red-headed Nord beneath. He beamed a bright smile, taking her hand with an exaggerated bow.

   “The name’s Brynjolf, lass, and it’s a pleasure to meet a lady of such skill.”

   She chuckled deep in her throat. “Lilethys Dagoth, and the pleasure is mine.”

tagging @mareenavee @stormbeyondreality @svartalfhild but no pressure to play!

[kagrena]

WRITING DIRECTORY

My name is sasha (@profanetools), and this is a collection of writing from 2018-present, largely about the dwemer + lesbian romance.

I'm most well known for Twelve Tones, a multi-chapter fic about Kagrenac and her wife, an original character, Bthemetz, clashing over the construction of numidium.

Since I have a number of pieces of writing on this blog now, I've decided to make a directory. These pieces are organised by date of posting (old -> new).

Bolded pieces are on Archive of Our Own. Italicised pieces are personal favourites.

Dwemereth: Kagrenac & Bthemetz (Mostly 1st Era):

I - if she had the choice / II - the first memory would be of her wife

a thesis on dance

"Why do you let them call you that?" "Call you what?" "He."

and there's a lingering scent (Dumac/Nerevar)

‘The Jagged Tea Set’

#3: “to the heart of all things“

"I am not looking forward to this"

It is really only on the third day they begin to address the topic / Saviour

at first / there is the sense she could almost collapse

Hopesfire

Magic (femslash february 21 prompt)

Home (femslash february 21 prompt, NSFW)

A Thesis: On Twelve Tones plucked from a still-beating heart

After (Chapter 10 Twelve Tones Spoilers)

In The Shadow of The Missing God (Bthemetz/Boethiah, Early ME Chapter 8 Twelve Tones Spoilers)

Solaris / "Take my hand"

The Sword that Lies Between them (Kagrenac/Almalexia, NSFW)

A Thesis: On being submerged by fire (Twelve Tones spoilers)

mortar

She had been rumoured to be making a god-in-process

You had always loved her

From a lost missive, dated 1E165/4E160

ON NUMIDIUM'S BRASS ARCHITECT

Her wife sits in the parlour with freshly made tea

"Is everything alright?"

Beard care routine / [1E370. An evening party somewhere in the void]

From Dwemereth to Resadyn's Wilds: Vyra Rzarak Demnevanni (1st era):

Vyra

Knox's Diary: "Breakthrough. Finally, Vyra's talking again."

Knox's Diary: "What's your fondest memory?"

After Dwemereth: Bthemetz & Kasmei (2nd / 4th era)

Wounds & Healing

A dwarf, an assassin, and an undead nord tongue get on a cart

It's the opposite of a problem

"So, what dya think of Senya?"

Letters to Mother from the 2nd Era, numerous and unsent

(an epilogue, sorta)

The sky is full of smoke

Narga & Ysamyne (3rd era):

He had expected the witch-thief’s hidden rooms to contain materials for profane rituals / Candles (Ysamyne)

Performance (Narga/Almalexia)

Sun's Dawn, The Second Day (Narga/Ysamyne)

The Song of Ysamyne Montrose (Ysamyne)

(4th Era)

But Where is Shor?

[fallen-chances]

TES OC MASTERPOST

I'm realizing I rb lots of stuff asking for people to send asks about my ocs but there are probably a lot of people who like Don't Know My OCs! So here is a master post for my elder scrolls OCS! (vampyr oc masterpost is [COMING SOON])

I figured I would sort by Eras! Easiest for everyone. Under the cut, because I have SO many OCs. Any names with a ** are minor ocs that don't have much in their own tags but feature mostly in other characters' art or writing.

1E/2E

Alheidon Envolsen - He/Him, Gay. A Nord born in the late first Era. Came from a bad childhood that left him with dissociative identity disorder. His family line is known to be "cursed" with men falling into unfortunate accidents and women often struggling to conceive. He had a brief fling with a Dwemer that inspired him to leave home and become a mercenary. After meeting with that Dwemer again, they fell in love and got married. After a mercenary contract went wrong, he was turned into a vampire.

Abisare Raonryhn - He/They, Pansexual. A Dwemer with prophetic visions for reasons unknown. He has two younger sisters** who are twins. He does art and occasional manual labor. His prophetic visions led him to Alheidon twice. After a Falmer uprising in Nchuand-zel, he was left badly injured, forcing Alheidon to turn him into a vampire.

As vampires they grow very powerful and pick up on traveling through daedric realms for fun, and were off-world in Moonshadow when the Dwemer disappeared, sparing Abisare.

**Khzaechum - Ze/Zir, ???. A very minor Dwemer OC of mine, an ex-tonal architect who was banished from the Dwemer for excessive interest in the Daedra. Friend of the Chimer. Functionally immortal and no one knows how. Good friends with Mistress Dratha. Unknown how ze survived the disappearance of the dwemer.

3E

Ilenar Talvyn - He/Him, Bisexual. Dunmer Nerevarine. Destruction mage with medium armor and a dagger for Flavor. Born to adopted Imperial parents who ran an apothecary, he was arrested for stealing magic books. He really doesn't know what he's doing here in Morrowind, he's just trying to get by going from one day to another and got wrapped up in all this. He Fell in love with an Ashlander that he was sure hated him, and after he defeated Dagoth Ur he was... in need of some help.

Addarashnimaelshuralu - He/Him, Gay. Ashlander Dunmer, younger brother of the Zainab tribe's Ashkhan. He and Ilenar had very rocky beginnings but he was often forced to be the one Ilenar was interacting with when his older brother or the Wise Woman wanted nothing to do with Ilenar. Works for the Morag Tong occasionally.

Addarash nursed Ilenar back to health when he stumbled into the Zainab tribe injured and delirious after defeating Dagoth Ur. They slowly built a rapport over a few weeks and eventually, Ilenar confessed the feelings he had for him. They get together in secret for a while until getting properly married. They adopted Addarash's young cousin after her parents died and had another child through a surrogate, as corprus left Ilenar infertile. And very immortal. Stuck watching his family slowly age without him. When the Red Year occurred, he lost them all and wanders around Tamriel listlessly.

Hadrien Velvinia - He/Him, Bisexual. Imperial Hero of Kvatch. Was indoctrinated into a Cult of Sanguine as a teen, and was there for a long time as their resident necromancer and conjurer. He was even the one to recruit Martin to it but eventually left after a bit of love at first sight with a Nord woman**. They settled down and tried having a family, but bandits killed his wife and young child**, leading him to pick up necromancy (again). He eventually got arrested. His reunion with Martin was awkward and strained, but they eventually began rekindling their very old romance. Then Martin died. Hadrien later went on to do Shivering Isles and became the new Sheogorath. Left behind a surrogate son from the cult, Umbaiel Plautius**

4E

Maelle Channitte - She/Her, Lesbian. Breton Dragonborn. Battlemage Conjurer and Champion of Meridia. Member of the College of Winterhold, though she gave Archmage status to Mirabelle. Ex Noble whose parents were killed in an assassination attempt on her 12th birthday. The event left her selectively mute both by physical and mental trauma. She does not go down in history as the Dragonborn and prefers it that way. Only a few select people actually know she's the DB. Dating Adal Envolsen.

Adal Envolsen - She/Her, Bisexual and Poly. Descendent of Alheidon. The warrior and healer of the group. Bard's College graduate. She goes down in History as the Dragonborn because she often speaks for Maelle. Ex-Priestess of Kyne who often protected the temple later picked up mercenary work where she met Celeryn, who she is engaged to, as well as dating Maelle.

Celeryn Sural - He/Him, Pansexual. Mixed Bosmer/Breton. Ranger Swashbuckler type, an ex-pirate who retired after a shark took a chunk out of his thigh. Met Adal on a bounty together and grouped up, eventually falling in love. He proposed to her several times before she finally agreed.

Aedia Dormae - She/They Bi/Ace. Ex Imperial rich girl who had to run away after she stole something from the Imperial Palace. The resulting altercation to get it back wound up with her mother dead by accident. The Imperial City Thieves Guild recommended she run to Skyrim, where she met up with the Guild in Riften. She goes on to become a Nightingale and joins Maelle + Friends as their resident rogue.

Maelle met Adal and Celeryn in Whiterun, and they joined her on her quest to Bleak Falls Barrow and beyond. They met Aedia when they had to go to Riften for the aid of the Thieves Guild. They briefly parted ways after the MQ, with Maelle doing the Dragonborn DLC alone, Adal and Celeryn doing Dawnguard, and Aedia simply doing Thieves Guild things. They eventually all got back together to end the Civil War in a truce allowing the Nords religious freedom while still being an Imperial territory. Adal went on to attempt to educate the Nords in the ways the Imperials caused the loss of aspects of their culture and teach them about their religion before Imperialization.

Snow Elf OCs

This is a bit of a different subset of OCs bc it's a bit AU...

Rhene Norwenoth-Henelen - He/They, Bisexual. Born in the middle of the Falmer/Atmoran wars, in a little village where Old Hroldan is now. His parents and little sister were killed by Atmorans, leaving him in the care of his estranged uncle Gaelin** who was just sent home from the battlefield. Most of his village, aided by a runaway ex-enchanter** from the Falmer royal family, was frozen in a magical stasis in a hidden cave. He and his uncle seemed to be the only survivors, awakening after the events of Skyrim.

**Faekyre Orenaris - They/She, Ace Lesbian. A Falmer born in a village of surviving descendants living in the Jerall Mountains. She is an excellent hunter, even with her missing eye from a bear attack.

**Ysmawith - They/Them, ??? Born to a neighboring village as Faekyre, Ysmawith got lost for several years in their childhood where they lived with betrayed Falmer in a cave. When they were twelve they clawed their own eyes out in distress to be "more like their family." Was eventually found and brought back home where they live in unease.

Areyor Masparwen - He/Him, ??? The Snow Prince. Genuinely. He's my oc now <3. Not in line for the throne at all, he took to the battlefield to defend his people against the invading Atmorans. When he was killed in Solstheim, he was actually saved by an enchanted amulet of his, a gift from his older sister** that contains a stasis spell much like the one used with Rhene's village. He awoke not long after the Great War and spent a lot of time wandering trying to find survivors.

Areyor eventually finds Rhene, Gaelin, Faekyre, and Ysmawith and convinces them all to join him on a journey to the Chantry in the Forgotten Veil. Vythur and Gelebor are reunited and Vythur is cured of Vampirism with the aid of the Dragonborn. They set up a new settlement for the Falmer, inviting any descendants of survivors to come and people interested in trade. One person who is not a Falmer at all does arrive.

Uthryne Olthen - They/She, Bisexual. Mixed Dunmer/Altmer. Their parents were daedra hunters and killed after crossing a cult of Vaermina. The surviving cultists, aided by an embittered Vaermina, cursed Uthryne to suffer from nightmarishly exaggerated prophetic dreams. They eventually lead her to the Chantry, where they were nursed back to health after far too much sleep deprivation and drugs to aid in that. She finds herself an odd one out in the chantry, but the local ray of sunshine Rhene befriends her, and eventually, they hook up. Feelings are caught, confessions, etc. you know the deal they're an Item <3

RP AU Characters

These OCs are from an ongoing RP with one of my friends and are tes versions of some of my Vampyr OCs. This is an AU version of Skyrim and detached from my other ocs (though they make cameos at times)

Merriell Sartorius - He/Him, Gay. Breton/Imperial raised outside the Imperial City in a stifling and abusive noble family. Left when he was 18 to spend time with his Uncle in Solitude, but was caught by Movarth's coven on the way and kept initially as food, then later as entertainment after he was accidentally turned and they starved him. Saved by a new Lord of Castle Volkihar who overthrew Harkon (my friend's OC Cassander**.) He is incredibly naive and both very trusting and horribly suspicious of everyone. The worst abandonment fear known to man. He has a bit of a corruption arc planned that I like to draw.

Massarapalibbi - Any (commonly He/They) Pansexual. Ashlander living on mainland Morrowind. His parents died when he was young. Left home at 16 (abandoning his little sister** in the process) and was found by a cult of Boethiah he stayed with until joining a cult of Mephala that was a schism of the Morag Tong (which shattered after the events of Red Year) His sister eventually tracked him down for missing an important anniversary of their mother's death and dragged him home. He can't bear to stay in one place, so they began traveling as bards. After a fight involving an old member of the Mephala cult**, he and his sister parted ways until she invited him to join her at the Solitude Bard's college. He too was caught by Movarth's coven, but instead as a meal for Merriell, who was just barely able to keep himself from draining him. Upon being saved by Cassander, Massara was turned to save his life since he lost too much blood.

**Corelia Bianchi - She/Her. Straight. A viscountess of Bravil who fell in love with a vampire artist**. When she was dying of consumption he turned her and whisked her away into the night. She and her husband joined Volkihar castle 10 years ago, but her husband was killed during a fight with the Dawnguard recently. She wants revenge but has no fighting skills.

**Finnr Blood-Beast - He/Him, Bisexual. A very old vampire who thrives on chaos, and is currently attempting to ruin Cassander's rule of the castle by grooming Merriell into the perfect weapon against him. Joins up with an even older vampire (Earaya**) who also likes the idea of overthrowing Cassander so that Earaya can rule.

**Blair Stout-Heart - He/They, Lesbian. Raised Nord of Reachmen descent. The current leader of the Dawnguard after Cassander disposed of much of the higher-ups. Distrusting and prone to anger, but also is a healer and is trying to turn over a new leaf for the Dawnguard.

Ysmine Fire-Eyes - She/Her ???. Young Nord girl who is with the Dawnguard because she has nowhere else to go after vampires killed her father**, an ex-champion of Meridia and owner of Dawnbreaker. Fended off many of the vampires who wanted the sword to destroy it, but was left injured by the time she was saved. Feels she owes the Dawnguard her life and is willing to do anything to help. She is the daughter of a Golden Saint, through a very hush-hush affair of her father's.

these are a few misc ocs in the universe, all have an encompassing ** :)

Abigaelaris - She/Her, Bisexual Altmer. The youngest sister of the Solitude clothiers, but she was disowned for having anti-Aldmeri Dominion sentiments. Currently works for a competing store as a dressmaker. The owner** is a vampire, not that she knows it.

Nileyransi - She/Her, ???. Massarapalibbi's little sister. Currently unaware of her older sibling's undead status.

Athanasia - She/Her Lesbian. An ancient Falmer pureblood vampire, who gained her powers to save her family. Her coven is small, and primarily women who travel around Tamriel staying in caves and abandoned buildings, mostly feeding on animals but also the occasional bandit, criminal, or particularly rude traveler. She is Cassander's maker.

Zharrae - She/They Bisexual. Athanasia's half nord daughter. She was born in the 3rd Era. Athanasia didn't think she could have children, as a vampire, but wanted to try anyway. Zharrae has a uniquely difficult struggle with her humanity, hunger, and vampirism as a Dhampir

Arwyn - He/Him, Gay. Ohmes Khajiit, raised Reachmen. Currently trying to hunt down Earaya bc he slaughtered his khajiit family's caravan on the road. Joined the Dawnguard with the hope that they'll help him kill him. He will occasionally bite vampires back, out of spite.

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - What Waits 'Round the Corner

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Main character: Lucien Flavius Rating: T for violence Genres: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Summary: There's a reason Lucien only made it to Falkreath before deciding he really needed some hired muscle. Lucien Flavius is from the eponymous mod by Joseph Russell.

26 Sun's Height, 4E 201. Helgen, Falkreath Hold, Province of Skyrim, the Cyrodiilic Empire.

Dear Mother,

I have made it to Skyrim! You were right, the quality of the roads took a dramatic turn for the worse as soon as we were through the Pale Pass. I got out of the cart and walked a bit just to get a reprieve from the jolting. I am resting in a small town called Helgen, just on the other side of the Pale Pass. The town has rough fieldstone walls - not a right-angle to be found - and sits on a crossroads: one road goes East over another mountain pass, and the North and Western roads go down the shoulders of the mountain to a village called Riverwood and the hold capital of Falkreath, respectively.

The mountain is something to behold! I’ve included a sketch in this letter. I can see why it is called “The Throat of the World!” We climbed and climbed coming out of Bruma up to the pass, but I don’t think the mountain top ever became appreciably closer. There seems to be a blizzard up at the peak at the moment, so I guess I would not know. If the rest of the landscape in Skyrim is this dramatic, I think I’m going to be using up all my parchment on sketches!

The letter you wrote certainly helped in this leg of the journey. I was able to convince a Legion quartermaster on her way to Skyrim with supplies to let me ride with her, and the chap in charge of the gate said that his father served under you as a Cornicen in the Great War. Maybe you remember him, Atticus Quinilum. Anyways, the quartermaster’s name is Ranne Straight-furrow. I met some Nords in Bruma but my goodness do they grow them tall up here in Skyrim! She’s got to be a head taller than any of the Colovian-born soldiers.

I’m staying at the inn here, (and really it is just the largest house in town with a handful of extra beds in the loft), run by a nice Nord named Vilod. I won’t be staying long - Helgen is really too small and remote to use as a base of operations, and the Legion makes it more of a target for the insurgents.

I am planning on setting out for Falkreath in the morning; it will be a push to make it down the mountain in one day’s travel, but the road appears well-maintained. I will purchase supplies and send for my surveying equipment. It looks like a good place to set up a base of operations, as it has an inn, and the guards here tell me there is a plethora of Dwemer and Nordic ruins in the mountains. By the time you receive this I should be in Falkreath, so please send any letters there. Even if I move on, Skyrim’s towns are connected enough that I should be able to receive them. Give my love to Father.

Your loving son,

Lucien

“Here lad, I grabbed you some supper. Courtesy of the Legion.”

Lucien looked up from his letter. Ranne towered above him, setting a trencher of bread on the table before taking her own seat. Lucien moved his parchment out of the way of any crumbs and examined the meal. It was simple but hearty fare: some sort of salted fish on coarse brown bread, and a good portion of vegetable pottage to go with it. It was a far cry from the fine foods Lucien had been brought up with in the Imperial City, but after a day of trudging through a snowy mountain pass, his mouth watered just looking at the meal.

“Thank you very much, Ranne.”

Ranne was already tucking into her supper, dipping the trencher bread into the pottage and taking large bites. She grunted in acknowledgement and made a gesture with her mead tankard that Lucien decided to interpret as ‘You’re welcome.’

The experience of eating quickly with no utensils was new to Lucien, and he was nowhere near as efficient as Ranne. She was mopping up the last of the meat juices and pottage with the crust of her bread while Lucien was still working on his first bit of fish.

“Where are you planning to go next, Lucien?” she asked, taking a swig of mead.

“I’m going to Falkreath,” Lucien replied, trying and failing to keep an errant chunk of fish on his trencher. “That seems a decently large enough…settlement… to base my initial expedition out of, without being too expensive or far away from the border.”

Ranne nodded. “There’s a scheduled patrol that will go through Falkreath in two days’ time. I’m sure Captain Hadria will let you follow along so they can escort you down the mountain.”

“Oh, I will be leaving in the morning,” said Lucien. “I have too much to do and to set up, and I want to be able to establish myself and send for the rest of my supplies before the pass closes for winter.”

Ranne stared at him for a long moment before speaking. “I think you should wait. The roads aren’t safe for a lone traveler.”

Lucien looked up from chasing a legume of indeterminate cultivar with a bit of bread-crust. “Oh, nonsense. It can’t be more than four leagues away, all downhill. I should be able to deal with a mudcrab or two! I’ve got a dagger.”

“It’s the two-legged animals you have to worry about here in Falkreath. We don’t have any large wolf packs, but they’re not the only ones waiting for a good kill.” She stood. “I can’t make you wait, though, if you’re determined.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine. After all, it’s an Imperial road and those are safe for travelers.”

“That is certainly the Legion’s opinion,” Ranne sighed. “Be careful Lucien. Keep your eyes open. And… maybe write home before you set off.”

“Actually, I just finished a letter to my mother,” Lucien said. “Would you be willing to take it back to the Jerall View Inn? The innkeeper said he had a courier who makes regular trips to the Imperial City.”

“I’d be happy to, lad.” Ranne downed the last of her mead in one swig before gathering her tankard and now-empty bowl. “I’ve got a knapsack for correspondence on the wagon, just put anything you want sent in there before you leave. I’m heading for the barracks.”

“Good night, Ranne. And thank you again for the lift over the pass.”

Ranne waved off his thanks with another grunt and left the mess hall. Lucien turned his attention back to finishing his meal. After returning his bowl to Vilod, he threw his map case over his shoulder and climbed the sturdy but steep ladder to the loft.

There were several beds separated by hung hides and a few cots and bedrolls in a corner for more thrifty travelers. By the dim light of a few scattered candles, Lucien could see that several men were dealing out hands of cards and two of the beds were already occupied. The men looked up when he entered but turned back to their game immediately. The air hung heavy with the smell of soot from the hearth below and hay from the thatch above, along with the sour-sweet smell of yeast from the brewing vats.

Picking his way carefully through the beds, Lucien made his way to the alcove he had been given upon his arrival. His carry-pole was where he left it, along with the old Legion-issue loculus his mother had given him to use on the expedition. Lucien shed his doublet and opened the worn flap of the leather satchel. Briefly, he caught the strong scent of old leather and the hyssop balm his mother favored to soothe the aches and pains she had collected from her military career. An intense wave of homesickness washed over Lucien, his breath catching in his chest. Lucien was glad his back was to the rest of the room as he struggled to compose himself – he was being ridiculous; his adventure had only just started and here he was missing his mother like a child!

The tightness in his chest eased as the smell of home and family faded. While the furca was new and custom-fit to his proportions, the satchel was the same one his mother had carried during her service to the Emperor, and it was comforting to know that he was carrying a memory of her, and of home. After slipping off his boots, Lucien carefully packed his doublet, breeches, and cloak away in the manner she had taught him, and then placed the entire kit under the bed. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he settled into the rough homespun and furs, hearing her voice echo in his head: Always keep everything you possibly can in your pack, Lucien. You never know when you’re going to have to make a hasty exit. He rolled over, turning away from the candlelight from the other side of the loft. The furs were rough, and the worn tick mattress allowed musty hay to poke through the fabric, scratching any exposed skin. Lucien wondered whether he would ever get comfortable moments before the long climb and warm meal took their toll and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

[awellboiledicicle]

Got another dream based oc... which means new skyrim character.

Her name is Risti, shes a young altmer/nord that grew up in the Companions alongside Vilkas and Farkas. Tilma the haggard is her aunt on her mother's side, with her altmer family down south.

Her main job in the hall is to cook and occasionally, serve as the live in alchemist. It's mostly a hobby, but the companions would rather down a potion from their friend than someone else. She also practices restoration magic, but keeps it super on the down low as to not freak out the twins. The side effects of her alchemy knowledge are that she can make a roast that heals your fatigue or any sore spots.. and it'll smell good too.

The story so far is she went south to visit her family for a bit and got caught in the ambush by mistake. Insisting she was a citizen of whiterun and worked for the companions got her nowhere, and then the Intro Happened. Naturally she rushes back to Whiterun and nearly cries when she sees Aela, Ria and Farkas take down the giant bc "oh thank the divines, my friends--"

Shes able with a sword and armor from her upbringing, but adventuring was not her thing. It becomes her thing and then she kills a dragon. So that's neat. And eats its soul. Neato. Great. Wonderful.

Ends up showing up to Kodlak like "I want to formally join the companions. Dragons are back and I appearantly am dragon born so I need to be able to kill them and I need shield siblings."

Vilkas promptly knocks her on her ass with his shield in the yard, but she recovers well enough. Farkas has to show her how to move in her new steel armor though. It helps he knows how she made it, and is the one who taught her smithing basics since it's a hobby of his. Not one he does much with, given their equipment is handled for them, but he knows what he's talking about.

Shes very much "I got this because I have to have this" while also being a v sweet person.

She loves the companions very much and the story progression is going to make her a ball of rage

[juniperberries-canisroot]

I'm playing as an Altmer on a new save and I'm surprised more people aren't mean to my char. That Silver-Blood dude said some things but said my elf kind, not specifically the Altmer or Aldmeri Dominion. So far no one has called my char a Thalmor or a piss elf.

Even the old man dad Snow-Shod, who hates the Imperials and said to my Imperial dude 'can't stand your Imperial stench' or some rude comment like that hasn't been anymore rude to my Altmer more than he has my Dunmer character. The most he's done is accuse them of being an Imperial spy, which is somethin he normally does (not sure how he reacts to Nords thou).

I am also a little surprised that Ondolomar I can't be bothered to spell his name correctly, High Elf Thalmor in MarKarth, didn't say something like 'how do you not know what a Thalmor is' when I asked him about the Thalmor, as in 'how do you not know what your own races governing body is' as much as a pretentious person he is.

Maybe I'll get hit with worse in WindHelm or even WinterHold when I finally go to those two cities, but for now there really hasn't been much more hate for my Altmer character than there has been my Dunmer character. Also the other Altmer characters don't acknowledge me as one of their own race either. Wood Elves (Faendal) and a Dunmer (forget who) have called me sister-elf thou.