#or misspell things

[trickstarbrave]

hi i wrote this half awake again but

a lil bit of an exposition dump. steren also wakes up. kinda sad still (actually. rly sad) but dw it'll cheer up. just give it some time

vivienne from @mulberrycafe (so you all know they are in vivi's world. not steren's home world)

--

“Ah, my champion,” Azura was in better spirits than when Nerevar last spoke to her like this, at least. “I was hoping you would find that child. I’m glad the two of you were able to meet soon.”

“The Dunmer with a star on his face?” Nerevar asked. If so, that would mean it was Azura’s doing, which only raised more questions.

“Yes.” She replied, smiling. “Steren.” She then tilted her head. “I thought you would be spending time with him and asking him questions.”

“He’s unconscious because he has hypothermia.” Nerevar frowned. “He’s lucky we found him when we did or he’d be dead.”

Azura seemed upset at that, though more worried than angry.

“… I hadn’t intended to drop him here so suddenly.” She admitted. “I had to make a hasty decision.”

“Who is he?” Nerevar declined to inquire about why she brought the boy to Solstheim for the time being. Who Steren even was was a much more pressing question.

“Steren is from another world.” Azura finally admitted after a moment of pause. “One much like this one.”

A more intellectual person like Lucien might take the chance to ask all sorts of questions about different worlds and what that meant, but Nerevar wasn’t the type. He’d hardly understand it and didn’t particularly care if there were more worlds like his own given there wasn’t much he could do to interact with them until now. Not to mention it’s not the first time a daedric prince had offhandedly mentioned it in either lives.

“Why does he have the Moon and Star ring?” Nerevar wanted answers to determine if he was a threat or not.

“He is the one who fulfilled the Nerevarine prophecy.” Came Azura’s firm reply.

“The prophecy…?” Nerevar’s brows furrowed. He’d quite like to chew her out sending a kid who looked like he’d barely reached maturity out to kill gods, but she was already in a foul mood from her spat with Mephala and Boethiah. “Then he’s me?”

Azura shook her head, a sort of sadness in her eyes. “He is not your reincarnation, no.” She then closed her eyes, giving a soft sigh.

“In that world you had a son.” Nerevar froze stiff, and Voryn did the same beside him. “He is your son’s reincarnation, following that family line.”

“I had a son?!” Nerevar looked even more alarmed. How much different had that world been then? If there was a crown prince to carry on his legacy, had the tribunal killed him too? Was he used as a political pawn? Raised to take his place in the prophecy? Nerevar wouldn’t have allowed that. He wouldn’t have made his son do such a difficult task— 

And what about Ayem?! If he did everything Nerevar did, did he have to kill his own mother? Nerevar couldn’t imagine a more cruel life. But why had Almalexia even agree to a child in that world?! If things were so different there, surely their relationship would have been better. Had she still gone along with his death?

“You did.” Nerevar’s mind was still running a mile a minute with the information, barely even hearing Azura. “With Voryn Dagoth.”

“What?!” Nerevar stared at the goddess like she had grown two heads. “How in Oblivion—“

“In that world you had a different set of anatomy.” She replied very bluntly, and Nerevar smacked himself on the forehead. Right, that would explain it. 

“Then what happened to my son?” Nerevar asked, still worried. “Was I still king—queen?” 

“You were king, yes.” Azura moved to a slightly less formal position, looking a bit deflated. “It had been an accident. A moment of passion with you and your beloved, much like in your first lifetime here.” Nerevar could see that honestly. He found it hard to imagine a version of himself that wouldn’t fall for Voryn. “And you had given him to Voryn to be raised under House Dagoth, for his protection.”

“He was a secret then.” Voryn sounded… Unsteady and a bit breathless, baffled by the circumstances. “He wouldn’t have been safe with Neht, especially if the rest of the great houses found out he had Steren with me.”

“Precisely.” Azura closed her eyes once more. The goddess didn’t often show anxiety like mortals did, but Nerevar could tell the crease in her brows was unusual. “And when he was still young, the Battle of Red Mountain occurred.”

It was unspoken what she meant with everything else, as an uncomfortable silence fell over them. Nerevar felt cold, and Voryn tightened his grip on Nerevar’s hand, trembling slightly. 

Steren had been orphaned then. Both of his parents were killed, and he was likely too young to really understand what happened.

“The false gods sent him to House Indoril. They attempted to raise him. Guide him. To ease their guilt no doubt.” Yes, Nerevar could see that. Back then, Vivec, Sotha Sil, and Almalexia had deluded themselves into thinking killing him and Voryn was the right thing to do. For both selfish reasons, and for the good of the people. But he didn’t think they had it in them to kill Nerevar’s only child just to tie up loose ends.

“Steren grew, and eventually learned he was of House Dagoth. He sought answers they refused to give him, and so he left to seek it out himself.” Azura sighed. “He married and had a child, before soon meeting his own end.” Nerevar hated the way she said it so simply; his child being lost and alone in the world looking for answers was not something she could just casually brush off like that. “And you,” Azura looked at Nerevar again, “You refused my call to Moonshadow. Even the Tribunal could faintly sense your soul and tried to seal you in a bone walker, and yet through force of will you resisted even that.” That was pretty impressive all things considered, Nerevar would admit. “You refused to leave your child alone in the world, so you haunted him. And then his child. Then his child’s child…”

“I stayed there the whole time,” Nerevar asked, a sadness in his chest that still left him feeling cold, “Right?”

“Yes. Until Steren was reborn.” Azura sighed. “You refused to rest, let alone incarnate, so I had to use his soul. You had already modified the enchantment, and the prophecy had to be fulfilled.”

Nerevar paused, about to ask another question, before Voryn snapped.

“You sent him to kill Dagoth Ur?!” Voryn looked furious. 

“Someone had to.”

“You sent him to kill his own father!” Voryn was trembling in rage now. “Even if I was lost and mad, he was still my son—I could have killed him!”

“And you tried.” Azura said simply, only adding to Voryn’s rage. “Dagoth Ur thought he could remake Steren as an Ash Vampire if need be, before forcing Nerevar’s soul to be his.” She still met Voryn’s angry gaze without flinching. “And if he had not defeated you, his world would have been doomed.”

Voryn punched the wall of the temple with a supernatural strength, leaving cracks in his wake.

“Voryn,” Nerevar went to calm him.

“No!” Voryn snapped at him. “She sent my son to kill me or die trying! She—“

“She did what she had to because I refused.” Nerevar held Voryn’s arms tightly. “Don’t blame her but blame me.”

“You wanted to be with our son, how could I possibly blame you?”

“Because that selfishness doomed him to having to correct my mistakes—our mistakes.” Nerevar’s face was firm but level. “And… He’s alright now. He succeeded.”

“Indeed.” Azura spoke up again. “But in the end, the grief of your beloved’s death was enough to nearly shatter your already fragile soul. You had to return to moonshadow, or perish in a way not even I could save you.” Nerevar hated that. He knew she was right; Voryn’s death had nearly broken him this lifetime. If his soul had been active for thousands of years without rest, it was a miracle he didn’t cease existing in that world. “You had guided him since he got the ring, allowing him to communicate with your soul. I let you two give your goodbyes, and he ushered you to Moonshadow and safety.”

So Steren was left alone again. Having to say goodbye to both of his fathers in such a short time.

“Why is he here then?” Nerevar asked, once again taking Voryn’s hand.

“… As a reward for fulfilling the prophecy when you could not, I offered him anything.” Azura looked sad once more in a way that Nerevar did not like. “He asked me to let him be with his parents again.”

Another chill ran up Nerevar’s spine.

He didn’t fully know Steren, but he knew Steren was his son.

His son, after a long and arduous journey, had asked the Lady of Twilight to kill him. To end his life so he could roam Moonshadow looking for Nerevar and Voryn.

Nerevar knew that feeling well; he too wanted to end it all after he was done. But he moved forward as he knew that’s what Voryn would have wanted, and what his people needed. But it was something else entirely to hear his own child had been through the same grief and loneliness.

“I didn’t have it in me to end his life.” Azura admitted. “He is young, and it is not in his fate to die young again.” Nerevar was at least thankful she didn’t just go along with such a request; he would have been furious enough to try and rip her to pieces himself, dead or not. “But I didn’t want to delay it either. If I refused, he might take matters into his own hands,” That was also a possibility, “So I used my magic to keep him from death for a few hours, and made the hasty decision to send him here to meet you.”

She was still upholding her end of the bargain in a way. He did get to be with Nerevar and Voryn, just in a different world.

“Your spirits from that world also wish to join you.” Nerevar raised a brow. Two of him and Voryn? If they could just join the living, wouldn’t she just bring them back in his world? “If they are residing inside your souls, as fragile as they are, they can rest without vanishing and give you their memories so you may know Steren as they do.”

“… So that was that feeling.” Voryn muttered.

“You knew?” Nerevar asked?

“Only faintly.” Voryn sighed. “The souls felt like you and I only… Fainter. And it seemed impossible there were two of us so I thought it must have been my imagination.”

“Would you welcome them?” Azura asked. “The memories may be slow to come, especially for Nerevar given he had so many,” Azura looked like she was almost pleading with them, though as proud and vain as she was she would never admit it. 

“Yes.” Voryn answered without a second thought. Nerevar was surprised even by how quick he answered, before sighing himself.

“Sure,” Nerevar huffed, but he couldn’t help the soft smile on his lips. “I’d hate for him to be alone again.”

A warmth then bubbled up inside him, almost like a warm ember was glowing. It felt ticklish almost in his chest; a weight there that wasn’t unpleasant in the slightest. 

And then the two were standing in an empty temple, holding hands. Azura was gone, but there was the knowledge the two were different. Time could only tell the changes that might happen, or how long it would take for the memories of their other selves to surface, but…

Now Steren wasn’t alone. That much brought a feeling of comfort to the pair.

“… Let’s get back to the manor,” Nerevar tightened his grip on Voryn’s hand, “The healers should have brought him over there.”

“Yes,” Voryn leaned down to give a soft kiss to Nerevar’s forehead. “I should also hurry to tell my assassins to watch over him as closely as they do our poet.” Nerevar smiled in turn, a sort of loving, mirthful smile he sometimes rarely got to make in his stress of being king and the mess they were dealing with now.

“Right,” Nerevar leaned up to kiss his husband softly on the lips. “We have a son now, after all. They need to watch over him just as carefully as they do Vivienne.”

—

It was days later Steren awoke, groggy, in pain, and miserable.

“… Dad…?” He asked, groggily. He knew he’d seen Nerevar again; he’d gotten to hug Nerevar properly. He remembered the warmth; the solid feeling of his father in his arms. “Ata…?” He’d also seen Voryn there with him. Had they brought him to a place to rest? And why did his body hurt so much when he was already dead? 

He tried to climb out of bed, but his legs were too unsteady. They buckled under him, sending him crashing to the floor, almost causing him to hit his head on the nightstand. “Fuck—“ Steren swore under his breath. Gods it was cold out of the blankets too—why was Moonshadow so damn cold?! From how Azura is always dressed you’d imagine her realm would be warm, not freezing. Not helping was the fact he was in loose pants, bandages on his chest, and a thin robe overtop that was left untied. He was shivering already as he tried to steady himself, but luckily he wasn’t left struggling for long as quickly the door opened, someone rushing to his side.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Nerevar was there, gingerly helping him up. He was completely solid too, not simply a golden spirit you could faintly make out the features of. He was in all his chimer glory, white hair and blue eyes as he scooped up Steren and placed him back in bed. “You’re still injured so you should rest—“

Nerevar didn’t have time to finish tucking him in, as Steren began clinging to him and openly sobbing into his shoulder.

“Dad—!” Steren was holding him light a frightened child, nails digging in through Nerevar’s robes until they nearly hurt, as though he feared the moment he let go Nerevar would slip away from him again. “I-I’m so sorry—I’m sorry, I just—” 

Steren was then sobbing and babbling incoherently, refusing to let go. A bit awkwardly, Nerevar patted his head and rubbed his back, letting him cry it all out. He didn’t dislike Steren at all; Steren was his child as Azura told him, but he was still a bit unsure at the best way to comfort him, especially when he was this upset.

But eventually the tears began dying down as Steren hiccuped, before he began wiping his own tears.

“Normally you’d already be—be lecturing me about how stupid I was to do something like this,” Steren tried to smile through the tears. “I know you’re furious with me but I just—just needed to see you and Ata again…” 

“Shhh,” Nerevar hushed him again, cautiously wiping his tears away, “You did the best you could… More than what you should have.” Nerevar tried to smile back. “I’m just glad you’re safe now.”

“Well I know I am now,” Steren was still smiling so happily. “Now we can be safe and happy together in Moonshadow.” There was no threat of dying anymore, after all. No one who could rip apart his family. They could catch up on everything—Voryn could tell him about his early childhood, Nerevar could explain how he grew up, and they could make new and happy memories together.

“… Steren,” Nerevar sighed; he didn’t want to drop this on him so early, but it felt unfair to lie to him as well. It would only upset him in the long run. “We’re not in Moonshadow.”

“The land of our ancestors then?” Steren asked. He honestly didn’t care where they were, so long as they were together. But still, Nerevar shook his head.

“We’re in Solstheim.” Nerevar explained. “Azura brought you here.”

“S…” Steren began, his mouth fumbling. “Solstheim…?” That frozen island of Skyrim? Why would she take him there? Actually, more importantly, why were his parents here?!

“… She brought you across time and worlds into ours after you defeated Dagoth Ur.” Nerevar explained, his eyes cautiously watching Steren’s expression. “She said you wished to be with your parents and that you are mine and Voryn’s son, and in your world you fulfilled the prophecy when I couldn’t.”

It was hard to explain the emotions Steren was going through hearing that, taking in the look on Nerevar’s face as well as his behavior. Nerevar was looking at him like he was a… Stranger. Someone unceremoniously dropped into his lap. There was no tender affection in his eyes, nor anger at Steren wanting to die and join him. He wasn’t hostile at all, just reserved. Cautious. Unsure.

Then there was anger. He had asked Azura to be with his parents. His. Not some other version of Nerevar and Voryn who didn’t know him. We’re his parents even together in this world? Possibly not, but certainly Steren hadn’t been born from how clumsily Nerevar spoke, as though in disbelief over the fact he and Voryn had a child. 

Pure rage coursed through him, before he quickly directed it from Azura towards himself; of course, what else did he expect?! A daedra wouldn’t uphold their end of the bargain that easily. Even if Azura was one of the few daedra you could worship semi-openly as she wasn’t regarded as evil or openly cruel, that didn’t change the fact she was a daedric prince. And Clavicus Vile didn't have a monopoly on twisting someone’s words, so it was no surprise Azura would instead dump him somewhere else to be of use to him.

He should have just asked for some gold and then killed himself properly. Then there would at least be the guarantee he'd see his fathers again. Now if he died there was no promise of even that. If he was in another world like Nerevar said, he was far beyond his afterlife and Moonshadow, and he didn’t trust Azura to return him to his parents in that world anymore.

But there would be time to weep over that later. He could find someplace private to cry himself to sleep, like he'd done so many times before. At least this time he knew the ghost of his father wasn't watching, helpless to comfort him like Nerevar desperately wanted to. Instead, he relaxed his clenched fists, trying to make his defeated sigh as quiet as possible, and moved his legs so he could partially kneel on the bed, putting his hands in front of him, and bowing low.

"I'm sorry for imposing on you. My deepest apologies." He'd normally never talk so formally to Nerevar, but this was not the Nerevar whom he affectionately called dad and who guided him around Vvardenfell. This was Nerevar reborn, king of Morrowind. And Steren had learned plenty what happened when you disrespected those of a higher station. It was better to kneel and apologize, licking boots before scurrying off like a coward, at least whenever you could.

“H-hey,“ Nerevar tried to usher him up, “There’s no need to bow like that—“

“I’ve shown you great disrespect. Please allow me to apologize for that.” He could at least thank House Hlaalu for his better speaking abilities. “I had no idea I would be brought here and I know I must have put you into a difficult situation caring for me.” At least the fact he was alive still explained the pain and cold. Azura dropped him into the fucking ocean just to spite him and had him wandering around near death as punishment no doubt instead of trying to be useful for her. It’s no wonder he still had all his fingers. 

“Please lay down properly.” Nerevar ushered him back to the bed, “You’re still injured,” His hand was firm on Steren’s chest, not painful but warning him to stay there. “Rest up for now and we can talk about this later, alright?” 

Steren didn’t really want to talk about it further, if he was honest. What point was there playing pretend? Acting like he had a place here? This wasn’t his world, and this wasn’t his father. They were strangers, Nerevar just being told he had an obligation to look after Steren from Azura. 

But he could sort it out later. When his injuries from his fight with Dagoth Ur healed and his head cleared from hypothermia and exhaustion, he could figure something out. He’d thank the hortator for his hospitality, pass on the ring and sword that in truth belonged to him, and leave… Somewhere else. Somewhere warmer, at least. Maybe he’d go west to the deserts of Elsweyr or the Illiac Bay—well, maybe not the bay. His birth mother in this life was on the run there. The warm sands of the desert would be a safer bet, or even just Cyrodiil again where he could find a job like unloading cargo again or work under a merchant. It’s not like he wanted power and fame after all; he’d swear to Lady Azura he didn’t covet Nerevar’s throne, do whatever quest she sent him here to do, and be on his way. It could be a weird little anecdote for Nerevar and Voryn in this world; something funny to joke about years later while they wondered where he ended up wandering off to. 

But for now he’d rest. Steren closed his eyes, refusing to let anymore tears fall; he’d cry for his actual parents, but not in front of some stranger. He refused.

Nerevar waited at the door, unsure, watching him lay there and breathe with anxiety bubbling in his chest, before he sighed and closed the door. 

They’d explain it all when Steren recovered. Right now he didn’t look mentally ready to understand anything they said, and Nerevar was afraid of making the situation worse. He’d keep a close eye on him and wait it out for now, earning his trust if he had to. But they’d make it through it. Nerevar would be sure of it.

[kkshowtunes]

google citing ao3 as a source is so unhinged

[ideligo]

Gender? I hardly know ‘er- *my bones disintegrate*

Of course i know how to format a comic who do you think i am???.?..??

[koboldfactory]

if i were to guess... you are an enjoyer of 'woemn', yes?

what do you think

[cattailsandcontradictions]

Happy Neil banging out the tunes day!!

[asfodeltide]

[morthern]

Not a morning person..

[summerblueringo]

sauber kimi's shoes

left - brake right - throttle

[alice-the-arcane]

*mystical witchy sounds as i beat the shit out of bad vibes with a broom*

[time-woods]

MORE OF THY BEAST

a whloe sheet for this beast!! all the ms paint ones wer lazly done with my mouse bc i was bored- but the last one is an actual proper drawing of him!

[wasyago]

uhh umm uhm random stuff

[smash-chu]

Another collection of piñata related art, all for the fan-game project i'm taking part of to make concepts for~

[stuckinapril]

so unimpressed w men rn. it’s just so whatever

[weird-an]

Billy stares at the shards on the ground. It's Steve's favorite bowl. Dustin made it in summer camp. Painted a baseball bat and a weird looking dog on it. It was a fucking ugly thing and now it's broken.

Billy breaks things. All the time. All his life.

His dad tells him every day. That Billy is a mess, a fuckup, a nuisance. That Billy is broken, too, and that's why he breaks things.

Maybe Steve should break up with him, before Billy can break him, too. He tries to be gentle with Steve, but he doesn't know how. His hands are too strong, his tongue too mean, his anger too hot.

"Everything alright with the popc- Oh shit, Billy!" Steve sounds concerned.

"You're bleeding," he says. Warm hands wrap around his own. There is a slash on his palm. Nothing big. Not the worst Billy had this month.

"I broke the bowl," Billy states the obvious. He wants to say more. Like I'll break you too and I don't want to.

"That sucks." Steve wraps a bandaid around his hand. Steve shouldn't have to do this. Billy is used to do it on his own. He can do it.

"I think we should break up." Billy stares Steve's fingers fixing the bandaid.

Silence clouds the kitchen. It's too loud, just like Billy.

"Do you want us to break up?" Steve asks hoarsely.

Billy doesn't. Not ever. "We should."

"Why?" Steve's thumb rubs across his wrist. "Because you broke the bowl?"

The bowl, Steve's face a few months ago, his parents' marriage, Neil's dream of the perfect son.

"I break things all the time," Billy starts reciting the words so often yelled at him.

Steve wraps his arms around Billy. A tight hug, nearly squeezing the air out of him. But with Steve hugging him, Billy doesn't need to breathe.

"That's not true," Steve says, kissing his temple. "Just yesterday you fixed the sink and I think you fix me a little every day."

"You're not broken," Billy tells him. Why would Steve think that? He's fucking perfect in Billy's eyes.

Steve pulls him even closer. "Then you're not broken either."

[dampsleeves]

"i'm so fucking sick of you-"

SICK????!!!??>#! *STARTS JAKING OFF*

[nemurenaivoron]

Totally (not) canon Klein when he needs to assassinate a pirate admiral

I forgot that there are people who haven't seen the COLORs meme yet, so here's the original short film the meme was based on.