#rotten but an absolute beefcake

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Teknoir 1999 Rhythmic Noise / Experimental / Industrial / IDM

Oh boy! Here's a late 90s double-disc sampler from German label Hymen Records, whose name, yes, of course, is making reference to a part of the vagina! Founded in 1997 as a sub-label of Ant-Zen, Hymen bills itself as 'technoid noises for collapsing people,' which is a description that will make a whole lot more sense to you if you actually listen to this album.

Now, I didn't like most of what's served up on this thing; I'm not really a noisenik or a rhythmic noisenik, and I don't go for much in the way of industrial music, either. BUT, at the points when this album steers a little bit away from German avantgardist weirdness, and more towards genres that are a tad more conventional like IDM and breakbeat-based stuff, that's when I fully latch on to a solid handful of these tracks 😋.

But before we dive into all of that, we also need to address a certain elephant in the room when it comes to industrial music writ large; and that elephant is fascism. Now, I am certainly no fan of this purely rotten political ideology, but there is no doubt that because industrial music has a hard, abrasive, and martial quality to it, that it can definitely attract a certain goose-stepping type. And being that we're talking about Germany specifically here—where fascism once again appears to be rearing its very ugly head, as the once-fringe AfD party continues to gain seats in the Bundestag (German parliament), and vocal criticism of an apartheid state that is pretty clearly currently committing genocide is forcefully stifled—you have to wonder, are the people who are making this music sympathetic to fascism themselves?

And the answer to that question would appear to be a pretty full-throated "no," as evidenced by a wild track from Substanz T called "Industrial Music for Industrial People (Live)." On this tune, Substanz T loop up a quote from a guy who passionately says, "and if you don't like fascism, don't play industrial music." And so, taking clever heed of those words, with this track on an album that's surrounded by a whole lot of industrial music otherwise, Substanz T decide to play a diabolical brand of hardcore acid jungle instead, so as to say, "yeah, we're not fascists, man, so we're not gonna play industrial music for your ass. Here's this dance genre that a whole lot of black people have played a significant role in building instead, you fuckin' prick! 🖕🤘"

Gotta love it!

But while I certainly dig the messaging of that song itself, I don't think that that one is my absolute favorite here. And to be honest with you all, I don't know which of these is actually my favorite, because the front half of the second disc offers up a bunch of terrific choices, like the chilly and dub-brained IDM of Architect's "Pastgate," the sublimely splattery and drill n' bassy "Listen to the Call" by Beefcake, the Goldilocks-level-of-Gary-Numanesque-synths-crossed-with-bludgeoning-percussion that is Somatic Responses' "Oblique," and the sort of 80s retrofuturistic distorted nu-electro of Klangstabil's "Regelkreisauslöser." All seriously uniquely brilliant electronic tunes!

And this leads me to my final point, which feels like maybe the ten millionth time that I'm making it: No matter how bad or unfit to your own personal taste an album might seem, don't dump out of it until it's over, because you really might miss out on something remarkable. I say this so many times because it's happened to me so many times. Outside of that anti-fash Substanz T song, the first disc on this comp really did not end up bearing much fruit, and as a result, I *really* was not looking forward to having to endure the second disc. But had I decided to call it quits at that halfway point, I would've missed pretty much the entire cream of this release's crop, and that simply would've sucked, because there actually happen to be a whole bunch of unexpected marvels on that second disc! 🤩

Highlights:

CD1:

Not Breathing - "Kissy (Pre M.R.I. Mix)" Substanz T - "Industrial Music for Industrial People (Live)"

CD2:

Architect - "Pastgate" Bochumwelt - "La Pensée" Beefcake - "Listen to the Call" Somatic Responses - "Olblique" Klangstabil - "Regelkreisauslöser" Mother Destruction - "Odr"

[lemonmancer]

I cannot not draw him 

[iam93percentstardust]

2020 Fic Recs Part 1

Hello everyone! If you saw @ad1thi‘s recent fic rec post going around, you know she got the idea from me. I had the idea a few months ago of doing a roundup of my favorite fics from 2020 at the end of the year because, let’s be honest with ourselves, I read a lot over the last twelve months, partially because this year, I really started settling into my own in fandom but mostly because this year was an absolute shitshow and I needed a distraction from everything going on outside my tiny apartment. I know it’s been a hard year for everyone and while there’s hope that next year might be a little better, there’s no guarantee so here are some of the fics that helped me get through this year. I hope you all like them as well.

Fics are organized by month and range over a variety of fandoms and ships. Since some of these are multi-chapters, I’ve organized them according to what date the last chapter posted. This got a little long so I’ve broken this up into 4 parts to be reblogged over the next two weeks.

January

Hope for the Holidays by @aurumacadicus (Winteriron)

Tony never expected to share Christmas with the man who killed his parents, but he's here now, so they should make the best of it.

Woodash and iron and leather by LokelaniRose (Geraskier)

Jaskier is the only person Geralt's ever been around who doesn't smell of fear

Happiness: A Song in Three Parts by @newtypeshadow (Stuckony)

Tony's just a kid when he first hears the music. He's human, no one knows werewolves exist yet, and there's no sexy beefcake couple Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes coming out as werewolves and giving interviews to the press to explain the melody Tony heard sporadically during childhood is what werewolves—and the human mates of werewolves—hear when their soulmate is within a few miles of them.

By the time he finds out what the music means, he hasn't heard a note in years.

And when he finally hears it again, he's busy running for his life.

Heart in Hand by janonny (Stevetony)

Steve had been thinking — that was all he was doing, thinking, not moping, as Bucky described it — about the best way to make his feelings clear to Tony. He wanted it to be perfect. He needed it to be the best demonstration of sincere interest that Tony had ever received.

Bucky called it procrastinating, but Steve called it strategizing.

And this Courting Ceremony? It was perfect.

Now he just needed to figure out what to get Tony as a Courting gift. And what to wear. And what to say. And what to do.

-

Or the story where Tony, an Omega, holds a much belated Courting Ceremony. Steve joins up and loses his mind a little.

something i can treasure by theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes (Geraskier)

Jaskier would not call himself a thief. But, well- he is elbow-deep in someone’s saddlebags, pulling up handfuls of pretty little bottles. They’re all filled up with jewel-bright potions, corked delicately, and they almost seem to hum in his hands.

Then, suddenly-

There’s the sharp point of a sword at his neck.

Lock & Key by sablier_bloque (Geraskier)

“Geralt, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” he asked. He clenched his jaw before offering a sharp, mirthless smile. “Because it looks like you got caught fucking the mayor’s wife, and now I’m not getting paid!”

“Well,” he laughed nervously, looking anywhere but up. “When you put it that way.”

In which Jaskier suggests a chastity device to prove himself a worthy travel companion, and of course, gives Geralt the key.

February

A hard curl of satisfaction by LokelaniRose (Geraskier & Yenalt in V-shaped polyamory)

Geralt was taught that a witcher is only good for one thing

Half Agony, Half Hope by @no-gorms (Stevetony)

Following the Battle of New York, the Avengers Initiative kicks into high gear under the leadership of Steve Rogers, i.e. Captain America. Tony didn’t mean to become part of this initiative, but it makes sense to sign on due to his experience with SHIELD and Rhodey’s War Machine suits.

The upside: Tony’s tech can be used in a widespread and meaningful way to help protect people. The downside: the last time Tony saw Steve, he’d rejected Steve’s proposal of marriage and broke his heart, leading to almost ten years of the two having no contact whatsoever. Until now.

when the bones are good by SummerFrost (Geraskier)

Julian is six when he realizes that he's got an astounding capacity for being an annoying bastard. He's seventeen when he finally decides to lean in.

Where There’s a Witcher by ghostinthelibrary (Geraskier)

Jaskier is a twentysomething recently unemployed journalist and amateur musician looking for his big break. So when he’s saved from the jaws of a wyvern by the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia, he comes up with a brilliant idea: he’ll follow the Witcher around and sing about their exploits. He’ll gain fame and fortune and Geralt will get a much needed image rehab. Everyone wins.

Unless Jaskier goes and falls in love like an idiot.

my body bruises at your touch by brawlite (Geraskier)

To lure a monster out, Geralt ties Jaskier up, making him look like easy prey. Surprisingly, Jaskier finds himself enjoying his time as bait a bit more than expected.

Do it Again by thisgirlsays22 (Geraskier)

By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch.

He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt.

“Fuck.”

The Song of the White Wolf by sospes (Geraskier)

“It’s a wolf, not a dog,” Geralt says flatly.

“It’s hurt.”

“It’s a wolf.”

“I’m helping it,” Ciri says, ignoring him, and turns back to the wolf.

But when is a wolf not a wolf? When it's everyone's favourite humble bard, of course!

March

Even Steel Blades Need Fire by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Geraskier)

Jaskier's given a lot to Geralt over the years, but there's one tiny, insignificant, minor molehill of a thing he's kept back from him.

Namely that Jaskier isn't human.

Mission Accomplished by @riotwritesthings (Winteriron)

Tony has had a terrible, rotten, no good day. Fortunately, he knows exactly what he needs to feel better.

With a Conquering Air by inexplicifics (Geraskier)

From the kinkmeme: AU Warlord!Geralt receives Tribute!Jaskier as a sacrifice to appease him in every way possible. Jaskier has no choice on the matter and he’s fully aware of the awful rumours that have spread about Geralt and his ruthless conquests. (But we all know those aren’t legit.) A classic angst with a happy ending please! A dash of smut to heal those scars and a sprinkle of new found love!

Jaskier arrives at Kaer Morhen knowing his family gave him up without a second thought, and absolutely sure that the dreaded Warlord of the North will value him even less than his own blood did. But the White Wolf and his pack are not what Jaskier expected...and if he's unreasonably lucky, Kaer Morhen might become far more of a home than Lettenhove ever was.

play out a spell in your sequence of chords (to inspire and sharpen our rusted swords) by AceSailorKoshkaRayn

Geralt cocked his head to the side curiously to regard the chittering fox caught in the hunter's trap. The beast had deep chestnut fur and eerily bright blue eyes. He knelt, and the creature hissed at him, baring his teeth in fear.

"I mean you no harm," he rumbled, hands palm-up. His swords were at his campsite, regardless. He reached forward slowly, and the fox didn't move, though it's teeth remained bared. It was a simple matter to pry open the trap, and the fox leapt away, chattering its teeth at him. Their eyes met for a long moment, amber to fantastical blue, and the fox dashed off.

Sighing faintly, hands resting on his knees, Geralt bowed his head tiredly. He rolled his neck to crack it, and rose to his feet to shuffle his way back to his camp.

Set out neatly next to his bedroll were three cleanly gutted rabbits, and Geralt paused in surprise. Roach whinnied softly, and stamped a hoof. A crown of golden wheat rested primly between her ears.

Ah. Fae, then. Services paid for services rendered. Hopefully the fae would consider them even, now, but something in him doubted it.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Heheheh.....what if Sooga was a naughty boy for once and Kohga punished him by forcing him to wear a chastity cage 👁👁

Oooh, a BIT of an interesting one, given their skin tight clothing, but i do enjoy a challenge! 

Jealousy was a rotten emotion, and believe it or not, even someone as great as Kohga felt it. It shouldn’t have been anything that was that big of a deal, but for Kohga, it was. Kohga decided to join him during one of his fishing trips, more in support (seriously, HATED fish. Smelled like death, and was the only food that DIDN’T go with bananas). They were a couple now, more or less, so Kohga sucked it up, and joined Sooga. Five hours of nothing but sitting, smelling awful fish, and letting the salty sea air mess with his air. But hey, Sooga was happy, that was all that mattered. At least, he thought that was all that mattered. When Kohga left to go pick up some fruit (one of the Yiga clan members LOVED palm fruit, and they almost never got to have any), he came back to see Sooga talking with someone. It was no one important, but it bothered Kohga. He was some chubby man, talking it up with Sooga. He kept...touching Sooga. Kept gesturing to his biceps, to his core, and Sooga wasn’t repulsed.

Sooga just chatted away. Kohga didn’t even know what the conversation was about. Just that by the time he met up with Sooga, he heard the man say ‘You have such symmetrical features!’, all while feeling his arms. It wasn't the first time Sooga was treated like a piece of meat, hell, women went NUTS over him at bars and the like, but this was different. This was from a chubby MAN. Someone that, in theory, Sooga would find attractive. Even if it was an idle conversation, he didn’t care. He was the ONLY man allowed to touch him like that. And, get this, Sooga said ‘I’m flattered’. Who fucking cares if it was manners? What manners could you give to a damn HOMEWRECKER? One that could stand to shed a few pounds. Maybe a dip down a cliff would chip away some of those pounds. His thoughts must’ve been loud and clear, for Sooga FINALLY decided to say something.

“You want me to carry you, Master Kohga? You usually don’t float for this long.”

Kohga was SO mad, he didn’t even want Sooga to touch him. And yet, Sooga had NO idea why. Even as they walked back into their base of operations, Kohga refused to even look at him. Going so far as to lock himself in his room, and nearly slamming the door in Sooga’s face. One of the Blade master’s (who was always guarding his room) gave a small whistle.

“Never thought I’d see the day. Master Kohga, mad at YOU. How bad did you mess up?”

Sooga shrugged, genuinely at a loss.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps just the fact that he was out fishing with me today. I insisted he didn’t have to, perhaps he’s just mad he didn’t have a good time.”

The other shrugged his shoulders, leaning on the doorframe.

“Either way, I REALLY wouldn’t wanna be you right now, even if Master Kohga IS hot when he’s angry.”

Sooga decided to not acknowledge that, for the sake of not starting a fight and upsetting Kohga further.

“Just let me know if Kohga needs me.”

Little did he know, Kohga REALLY needed him.

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

Kohga was SO smart. So goddamn smart. After spending the night complaining to himself about the situation, he realized he couldn’t be mad at Sooga. Sooga was an absolute beefcake, of course he would get looked at, get groped like he was some hunk of meat at a butcher shop. That wasn’t Sooga’s fault. What WAS his fault, was not kicking that guys ass. But Sooga was too nice for that, too willing to please everyone around him. This required...disciplinary measures. And Kohga had just the thing.

“Sooga!”

It didn’t matter how far away they were from one another. Not even five seconds, and there was a knock at the door, before Sooga walked into his room.

“Master Kohga, you summoned me?”

“Yeah, close the door.”

Sooga obeyed, walking towards his Master. Kohga motioned for him to get on one knee, and Sooga obeyed. Kohga put one leg over the other.

“So. I’m guessing you’re wondering if I’m still mad.”

“Quite.”

“Well, I am. But not at you. Not at my precious little Sooga.”

Kohga grabbed onto his face, smacking his cheek just a BIT too roughly.

“I’m...not following, Master Kohga.”

“You remember that guy you were talking to yesterday? The fat guy?”

“Gotter, his name was.”

Oh, he remembered his name. Lovely. Precious. Now he had a name. Something for later. Kohga tried not to flip shit, before softly sighing. Easy, Kohga, easy.

“Yes. That guy. Did you...notice something odd, about that guy?”

He even gave Sooga a second to think. Sooga shook his head.

“Apologies, I didn’t. We merely struck up a conversation on food while I waited for you.”

Kohga had never felt so much self restraint. 

“Sooga...you try to be a good boy, I see that. You really...try.”

“Have I done something to upset you?”

Oh, he was acting stupid now. 

“Sooga...he was flirting with you. The whole time.”

Sooga was lost. He was expecting an apology, maybe some doubt. But his good boy appeared to forget his place. Because he, as straight faced as possible, spoke.

“I don’t think he was. I believe you’re just jealous, Master Kohga.”

He was going to show him some mercy. Maybe just a little bit of kindness for his blunder. But Sooga seemed to not even see the fucking problem. Kohga let go of his face, and gently smacked his index finger against his forehead.

“You shouldn’t have said that. You REALLY shouldn’t have said that, Sooga.”

Sooga opened his mouth to speak, before Kohga held his hand up, signalling him to silence. Kohga motioned for him to stand up, and Kohga followed suit, heading for his closet.

“I THOUGHT you were a good boy, Sooga. But you’ve been very, VERY bad. So, I’m going to fix that behavior, right now.”

Kohga finally got what he was looking for. He presented it to Sooga, who of course, looked lost. Kohga motioned for him to pull down the bottom part of his uniform, and he obeyed.

“Now, you’re probably wondering just what this is, Sooga. It’s a chastity cage. Since you think you can whore around, let some rando touch you when I’m not around, I’m not gonna let you have the privilege of getting hard. At all.”

Kohga tightened the straps around his hips, before finally zipping him up. Sooga stayed there, still and silent. As if being a good boy NOW would save his ass. Kohga zipped him all the way, and locked it, stuffing the key in his pocket. Sooga inspected it, clearly unsure what to make of it. It was essentially leather underwear- with a lock and key for reasons he clearly didn’t understand. It fit him rather snugly, and surprisingly enough, wasn’t very noticeable as he put his clothes back on.

“Are you happy now, Master Kohga?”

“Not yet, but I will be. Very soon, I will be.”

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

Sooga had no idea what had gotten into Master Kohga. After gaining his new present from him, he seemed back to his usual self. If anything, he was just far more affectionate towards him. Sitting on his lap, patting his cheek, and even praising him, even all throughout dinner. Was it any surprise that Kohga ordered him to take him back to his room, in order to take care of him? Absolutely not. Sooga thought everything was back to normal, as he was sitting here, kissing his Master’s neck, within the comforts of his bed.

“Aw, look at you, my Sooga. Such a pretty boy.”

Kohga didn’t seem to want to wait for long, and within mere moments, Sooga had started to suck and slurp at his cock, mumbling thank you’s the entire time. That was when he noticed the problem. He was usually on the floor, dripping with cum from his hardened cock. But his arousal was suddenly painful, forcing him into stopping, mainly from confusion.

“Master Kohga, I-i’m afraid I-”

“Can’t get hard. I know. You don’t deserve to get hard, not after the shit you pulled the other day. Now, I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?”

Sooga opened his mouth to argue, but chose silence. Surely Kohga would grant him mercy, right?

Wrong. Kohga pumped loads after loads of cum into his throat, pulling his hair, saying ‘i love you’, did EVERYTHING that he knew drove him crazy. But he wouldn’t get hard. Everytime he showed just the smallest hints of arousal, the leather pained him, forcing him to grow soft again. Sooga lost track of how many times he was forced to remain soft, even as Kohga just kept cumming. Kohga pumped another big, delicious load in his mouth, and Sooga squirmed in place, almost unable to enjoy it. Kohga pulled himself out of his mouth, chuckling as he patted his cheek.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Can’t my pretty boy get nice and hard for me?”

Kohga dug his heel right into his crotch, causing him to feel pinpricks of pain as his cock wanted desperately to get hard. Sooga was horny, honestly and truly, but he could NOT get hard. It was torture, it was agony. All of which, Kohga was enjoying.

“Sooga, up here, pretty boy.”

From a small chain, held the key for Sooga’s imprisonment. The thing that would free him this endless cycle of hell. He made a lunge for it, before it was quickly swiped from view, right into Master Kohga’s palm. Kohga clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Bad, bad boy, Sooga. Such a whore, you can’t even remember your manners.”

“M-master Kohga, I thought you liked it when I was hard.”

“I did. Then I realized, you’ll get hard for anyone. But since you’re mine, Sooga, I need to remind you of that. Your cock needs to be punished for wanting just some random guy we bump into.”

Kohga grabbed a hold of his throat, nice and tightly, and Sooga whimpered like a wounded animal. He LOVED it when Kohga choked him, right at that perfect spot, but the leather was keeping him from showing just how much he loved it.

“You let him touch you. You let him touch what was mine. And you’re going to pay-”

“Because you were jealous?”

Kohga would back hand him if he didnt have such a pretty set of lips. Kohga took a deep breath, before deciding to hop into his bed, hands behind his back.

“You want to keep being a bad boy, fine. Be a bad boy.”

“No no no! Please! I’m sorry!”

Sooga crawled up onto the bed like an apologetic puppy, whimpering as his body screamed for some type of release.

“I’ll be good! I’ll be a good boy! I promise!”

“Then I take it you want this key, then?”

Sooga ALMOST had the key that time. Almost had the thing that would finally let him cum for his Master Kohga. Kohga chuckled at his plight, clearly not in the mood to have a heart towards him.

“Alright. Grind against my dick. And say “I’m sorry I’ve been bad.”

Sooga did just that. He hopped onto his lap, grinding his ass right onto his master’s thick cock. The stupid leather was even keeping him from riding it, and just thinking about it made his cock ache against the leather, before forcing itself to grow soft yet again.

“I’ve b-been b-bad!”

“Again. In fact, keep saying it. Till it hurts.”

And hurt it did. Sooga kept saying those words till it was all he knew, as his cock hardened, softened, hardened, softened, in an endless, tortuous loop.

Sooga would NEVER be a bad boy, ever again.

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

A brief recounting of the events of Elder Scrolls Legends, and of the Forgotten Heroes that saved the Empire when no one else could.

The Argonian, The Myth, The Legend...

SWIMS-AT-NIGHT!

SMUGGLER, WAR HERO... AND THE MOST LOYAL OF FRIENDS.

Self-Proclaimed "Greatest Smuggler in Tamriel," Swims-At-Night was just a simple smuggler during the Great War, stealing his cargoes from the Thalmor controlled Cyrodill, traversing the treacherous seas to later sell it off to either the resistance in Hammerfell or the Thalmor themselves, to them at 5 times the original value and at half the quality, not really out of any patriotic duty as much as for the cold and shiny siren call of gold. A daring, dangerous life, that made him make contacts with all sorts of people, that however ill fitted his true calling.

For you see, for while he was indeed without equal in his smuggling and his ability with poisoned blades was without match... Swims-At-Night was a lore nerd at heart. Especially if he could turn a tidy profit from said lore nerding.

But let's keep things in order.

Everything in Swims-At-Night's life changed one fateful night, during that same Great War he was profiting from... When he met two figures.

One, was Tyr.

This Beefcake of a Nord was one of the few remaining blades, captured by the second in command of the Thalmor Warlord and Daedric Follower Lord Narafiin, and left to Rot and fight for his life in one of his dungeons/daedric lair/underground arenas, only to one day escape with the help of another... mysterious figure.

THE FORGOTTEN HERO! WAR CRIMINAL! BACKSTABBER! MASTER OF DISGUISE! GENERALLY GREEDY ASSHOLE! THE WORST OF FRIENDS! DID I MENTION BACKSTABBER, LIKE, SERIOUSLY, THIS FUCKER BACKSTABS A LOT.

Basically TESL Robbie Rotten. At least he hates Nazi elves tho.

Anyway, back to that one faithful night. Tyr and the Forgotten Hero, from here on TFH, had recently escaped their captivity, and were searching for a lift to reach Skyrim, so to warn the emperor, who had retreated there after the fall of the imperial city, of Narafiin’s Daedric Dealings, and also so they could scoop up a friend of Tyr along the way, so that she could shine a Light upon this mess.

So, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a Port patrolled by Thalmor Justiciars searching for both them and the Argonian’s stolen Cargo, Tyr and TFH decide to steal Swims-At-Night’s boat...

RIGHT. FROM. UNDER. HIS. GILLS.

Needless to say, it was friendship at first sight.

After discovering the 2 vagrants trying to steal his shit and a quick sword fight with the Forgotten Hero, the Trio is found by one of the aforementioned Thalmor Patrols, and therefore, seeing how they too were being hunted down by the Nazi Elves, he goes “what the hell, the enemy of my nazi enemy is my new best friend, let’s go guys, this trip is on me!”, scoops them up on his ship, and departs from the port toward northern shores.

They later shipwreck. Because dude might be the “Greatest Smuggler in Tamriel,” but I challenge you to steer a ship during one perfect storm with one bloodthirsty Breton pirate ship trying their best to board them and sink his ship at the same time. Not even (spoilers) Sails-Trough-Storms herself could do it, I say.

Anyway, they shipwreck, have some zany adventures in High Rock with some mudcrabs and some spriggans, find a wolf cub TFH might or might have not abandoned to his fate rather than take in and nurture as his new pet LIKE THE ASSHOLE HE IS, and finally, in the middle of a ancient ruin, surrounded by angry goblins who had just come in and killed the cultists that were trying to kill her...

She appears, in all her majestic might...

LAANETH! MISTRESS OF MAGIC! SCHOLAR AND RESEARCHER AMONG THE MOST PRESTIGIOUS COLLEGES AND MAGES GUILDS IN ALL OF TAMRIEL, AND EXPERT IN DAEDRIC ARTIFACTS AND LORE!

Anyway, they save Laaneth from a Goblin assault straight out of Goblin Slayer, and she informs them that her latest research was around a semi obscure prophecy called The Culling (II), a cautionary tale about how people shouldn’t standardize and destroy their Battle Royal Games for greed and get rich schemes, and about how, during a particular cosmological event, the veil between worlds will be weakened, and will be easily breached by anyone committing a sacrifice big enough (Like, for example, the entirety of the Imperial City Population) to reawaken the now forgotten Oblivion Gates, so that the maws of Oblivion will be able to be opened one last time, to unleash hell upon Nirn, so to hasten the deterioration of reality and the breaking of the world, thus destroying creation and possibly but most definitely not allowing the Thalmor to ascend to godhood in the ensuing chaos.

You know, standard Nazi Elves plans.

This is even more concerning of Lord Naarafiin simply having Dremoras and other Daedras in his armies, especially after it is revealed that some major entity, perhaps even a Prince, must be edging their bets on this thing happening, so they decide to quickly reach the Emperor’s Camp all together to give him the grave news, and see what to do next.

(If i may take a moment, I would like to point out how Swims-At-Night, his ship destroyed and his cargo now in the seas, without a single prospect of coin in sight, is still there, ready to fight and die for his newfound companions and freedom, because he might be a scoundrel and a Smuggler, but he is a Honest Smuggler goddammit, mass genocide and daedric outbreaks are a big no no for him.

He also probably already knitted some new best friends sweaters already for him and his bros and is already probably preparing one for his new nerd elven friend, and probably didn’t want them to go to waste, so there’s that).

Anyway, our heroes got to Skyrim. Some more shenanigans ensue, a bar fight, some imperial deserters, a High Elf Merchant that was trapped by giant spider and had NOTHING TO DO WITH THE THALMOR TFH might have just been plain old racist too and left for dead rather than help, the ghost of another merchant asking for revenge against some other, human bandits that killed him and his family for their gold, and all that...

Anyway, they reach the Emperor’s Camp, where we meet the last members of this ragtag bunch of misfits...

GENERAL CASSIA! SECOND IN COMMAND DURING THE GREAT WAR UNDER EMPEROR TITUS MEDE II, AND MOSTLY THE ONE WHO HAD TO DO THE DIRTY WORK FOR HIM IN THE FORM OF DISCIPLINING DESERTERS AND ALL THAT NASTY SHIT.

Anyway, a plan is formed. Our Heroes must return to the Imperial City, disguised as Gladiators, and will use a secret passage near the Arena, the SAME passage the Hero of Kvatch used all those many years before to escape the imperial prison, courtesy of Swims-At-Night, the History Nerd him, to reach into White Gold Tower, and steal the greatest treasure of all.

THE ORB OF VAERMINA!

For you see, Lord Naarafiin indeed had the help of Daedric Princes, ready to spring up at the occasion of the walls of reality getting thinner, and Vaermina was among them. The Warlord was using the Orb to spy on the Imperial Troops movements and plans, easily outwitting them and laying waste along the country, committing one atrocity after the next, reading the field play for the final sacrifice, and our heroes needed to get the sphere away from him, so to better prepare a effective attack plan against the city before it was too late.

So, our heroes reach the Imperial Capital, passing as gladiators, and go into the secret passage, now swarming with perilous undead after many years from the 3rd era...

And with a mysterious altar, appeared out of nowhere, whose burning light, as bright as dawn breaking upon the fields, shone against the undead hordes, aiding our heroes in their time of need as it scorched them to a crisp.

For it seemed, not all Princes were in favor of Naraafiin’s plan of destroying the world.

Or maybe Meridia just wanted to scorch some Mummies, who knows with her.

Anyway, our heroes reach the highest floor of the Tower, where the Orb is left unprotected...

And where they are promptly ambushed by Naarafiin second in comand!

REIVE! THE BLADE MASTER! THE PAIN-SINGER! THE LORD OF THE ARENA!

He was him who had captured Tyr and TFH back at the start, and with a swift move, he has now taken Tyr Hostage, the gleaming point of his blade ready to slash the man’s manly and muscled chest at a wrong move.

BUT THAT’S NO ORDINARY BLADE I SAY!

(Yeah, only found this image for the card art, sorry)

THAT’S GOLDBRAND! THE SWORD OF BOETHIA, DAEDRIC PRINCE OF PLOTS! FATHER OF MYSTERIES! MOTHER OF SHADOWS! AND A BUNCH OF OTHER VARIOUS TITLES WITH OTHER VARIOUS GENDERS! AND THE REAL DAEDRIC PRINCE BEHIND THIS MESS!

For what better plot, than to plot to destroy the world, after all?

TFH has however been also fast, and has already nicked the Orb for himself, the kleptomaniac little shit. He is now presented with a choice. Keep the Orb, and watch his friend and companion die... or Give Reive the Orb, and get his friend back... “unscathed.”

And TFH, the absolute bastard and backstabber... chooses to keep the Orb.

(I mean, yes, technically, you can decide to spare Tyr... Except dude still dies during the ensuring fight as he shows his massive balls of nordic steel and SMASHES A DAEDRIC ARTIFACT TO PIECES RIGHT IN FRONT OF A ANGRY HIGHER DREMORA, and it is canon that TFH used the orb at least 10 times in his life if we go by Achievements, which he couldn't really do if he let Tyr smash it, soooo...)

Anyway, Tyr dies, Reive is Angry (And so are Laaneth and partially Cassia, like, dude was Laaneth’s friend more than he was anyone else, they had HISTORY, she is understandably angry with TFH, and he was working in close quarters with Cassia due to their ranks in the imperial army and shit...), and a battle ensues. TFH manages to overpower Reive and kill him, thus gaining the favor of Goldbrand and perhaps Boethia’s Themselves given their great betrayal and show of strength, since that’s how Boethia Rolls...

Anyway, They daringly escape the Imperial City, everyone a bit more somber after the whole ordeal, even despite the victory, and reach the Emperor’s camp nearby, reading for the next day siege, right in time for the Culling... BUT OH NOES! A Thalmor assassination deep cover team (which is composed entirely by Bosmer for some reasons... what, are Kahjiits not stealthy enough for your deep cover assassinations?) has attacked the Emperor in the night!

The assassins have been repelled, and Titus Mede II is safe, but the Emperor is now no longer fit to ride the next day. This will surely be a deep blow to the morale of the army, even now that has been bolstered by new and fresh recruits from Skyrim, and Cassia isn’t sure anymore they are going to pull it through...

And it’s here, that our “hero” truly unleashes his inner Robbie Rotten, as a dastardly plan is formed, I’m 99% sure after Swims-At-Night’s Counsel.

The emperor will remain in his tent, in the middle of the camp, unseen and unheard as he rests, as TFH wears his armor, and rides into battle on the front lines with his army, disguised as the emperor, keeping the Morale High as he valiantly fights of the Nazi Elven Scum, his Golden Blade in one hand, his mystical sphere of dreams in the other, as he conquers more and more ground, his friends leading 3 other different fronts in a 4 way attack on the imperial city, crashing trough to stop the massacre from happening...

And yet.

It’s too late.

Naaraafiin has already killed the entire population of the Imperial City, and the Gates of Oblivion are opened. He meets what he thinks is the emperor, his personal guard at his side, as all manners of Atronachs and Dremora are unleashed upon the city, and soon the world, as the Oblivion Gates open once more and the walls of reality are weakened.

TFH has to think fast, and so, attacks the Warlord, who easily counters TFH with his magic, now overpowered by the think layers between realms and his own, general overpowered Final Boss Magic, blasting shit left and right at a frankly insanely low magicka cost...

And yet, perhaps, this overpowered magic will be Naaraafiin’s Downfall, for the Orb of Vaermina cannot just enter the dreams of your enemies to spy on their plans, but can steal mirages of powers and creatures from your opponent mind, and use them against them.

And so, witnessing his prowess with the sword, and finally recognizing Goldbrand as Goldbrand, and the “Emperor” as the one who had killed Reive, as he steals one of his massive blast right from under Naarafiin’s mind, and uses it against its own master...

Naaraafiin falls. Pushed by his own arcane magick, perhaps still alive, perhaps not, inside one of the holes in reality his culling had created, the link between him and the fracture of reality severing, as the Dremoras and Daedras vanish into Oblivion, and the gates close.

The battle is won. The Imperial City is taken back, if destroyed and with little to no population left.

And the Thalmor are retreating.

TFH and his friend go back to the emperor, who congratulates with them about the victory, for the man really knows when the delegate, and gifts TFH his armor, as the 4 companions depart, each for their own road, perhaps to never meet again...

And so the story ends, with a empire saved from the brink of destruction, yet irreparably damaged, a friendship betrayed, and terrible memories people will never forget.

But when the story ends...

Another begins.

For to paraphrase Marvel:

SWIMS-AT-NIGHT WILL RETURN...

In Elder Scrolls Legends III: Return to Clockwork City!

(Tho there’s the Fall of the Dark Brotherhood first, probably going to do that first, gotta show you just how much of a Asshole TFH can be).