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[pocket-vvardvark]

Sujamma Sundas

YAYYY, ty for the tags: @skyrim-forever @sulphuricgrin @skyrim-crossing

I'd like to tag: @fangsandsoftgrass @scholarlyhermit @hircines-hunter @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @bostoniangirl21 :) no pressure, I love you guys ♥️

[Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic!]

Under the cut bc um, it's a bit long 😬 this is from my fic Sweet Decay <3

Truly, this was beginning to be such a strange night and relationship. They weren't in love with each other, this weird limbo they were in was most certainly not love, that much he was sure of. 

“Angelica.” He starts, and loses his nerve so easily he could cringe at his own foolishness, “Come along quietly, we wouldn't wish to rouse your family.” Pouting, she follows him until they are safely out of reach and the thicket’s grown so high it has begun to level her waist. Peering around, her broodiness is forgotten once the air changes; a metallic tang on the underside of her tongue and the air is so thick, it's nearly suffocating. Her tongue shifts in her mouth, toying with her gold-plated piercing as if it could release the sudden taste of blood. It does not. 

“Verandis.” Her voice hisses with warning, frantically whipping around to face the growing sense of danger which seemed to loom ever closer. She doesn't hear his reply, only the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears as a good few figures assault them. They charge for Angelica first, claws tearing through flesh so easily she screams at the blinding, hot pain. It sears her flesh, rendering her useless as she tumbles to the ground with a wounded side. Verandis struggles with his own aggressor, barely able to struggle out of their grasp as its face becomes visible against the dissipating fog. A vampire–they hiss, snarling and gnashing at nothing while Verandis keeps them away with a conjured stave. The second is nowhere to be found, but both are much too gone in their minds to be anything but feral, so she doubts they’d have gotten very far. Bleeding out in the grass while she watches the man she’s sweet on succumb to his fate is not what she planned for this evening. She hadn't even gotten an apology out of him. Clawing against the air, they snarl and bite with the promise of flesh. Picking herself up from the forest floor, Angelica readies her magic against unsteady, twitching fingers. With only one hand to work with, it would be impossible to use her conjured war-hammer, so she'd have to settle for a few undead companions. The earth rumbles beneath her feet as bones chatter and milky phalanges claw past their graves. Under her command, the spirits rush forward, tugging on vampiric flesh with several pops and creaks until a gruesome sight is left trembling beneath Verandis. Sending her a grateful nod, he moves quickly to mend her wound, his hands meeting her ribs with tenderness. It's not until Verandis is pinned before her that she has any recognition of what is happening. At break-neck speeds, the missing feral comes launching for an attack, but her raised skeleton manages to subdue them with a painful crack of its neck. It hangs limply, neck separating from its body unnaturally while its face is set in terror not unlike if it were still sane. With a chance at freeing Verandis from whatever magic surrounds his hands and waist, she squirms forward despite the dull ache lingering in her ribs. Scratches from harrow-fiends could prove fatal, provided they hit the right spot. That wasn't her worry at the moment, though, she could only panic as thundering footsteps rocked forth, rustling foliage as another entity crept into view. Magic bound Verandis so tightly, it was nearly impenetrable as Angelica struggled to tug the links away. Futile, only a spell like this could be broken with the right counter-spell, and she knew of none. Racking her brain of any useful thought, she desperately clawed at his magical binds, panicking as her breath becomes shallow. 

“Run! You need to get out of here, now! ” He was right to warn her as the overbearing presence grew behind her, but she stubbornly refused. Tears prick at her eyes, mocking her for feeling the way she did earlier. Her tantrum seems so childish, now, as she’s reduced to a sniveling mess above him. 

“ No !” She roars, pulling her lips in a snarl, “I refuse to leave you!”

His eyes are wide, and she realizes in spite of the danger, she's never seen him so frightened before.

A voice drawls from behind, “It seems you've met my pets, unfortunate they didn't make it. But, I suppose I'm pleased enough my prey is alive. Your screams will sound so pretty after I've sucked you dry, girl .” 

Reckless, Angelica is quick to collect her burning limbs, immediately directing her undead to the new threat. She's agitated–so tightly woven into the threads of adrenaline that it is the only way she’s remained upright for so long. The man smiles sardonically, appearing amused at her attempts to fight back. A few flicks of his wrist, and half her animated skulls and bones are scattered and razed to ash. It angers her, infuriates her into a blinding rage when the spirits she cares for are so easily scattered into the wind, unmade by a cruel hand that sets their souls into a state of unrest. The hand which clutched her side falls, no longer able to feel pain as another takes over. The pain of loss fuels her vengeance, twisting into the shadow of a war-hammer, inky-black and misty. She slices through the air, her swings a moment too slow to make contact with her foe. He smiles, and she can see his canines extend, ready to pierce her flesh and coat it in her own, sticky ichor. In her haste, she's rash, growing a bit quicker as the fight continues and she adapts to this deadly dance. Magic is brought into the mix, uttering a mantra of necromantic spells while she forces the vampire onto the defensive. Against her assault of fiery skulls, snapping and creaking their jaws to taste flesh, a slice finally makes contact. It crunches sickeningly as the blade strikes his shoulder, just as her quarry exchanges his corporeal form for red mist. Only her panting and the sound of creaking bones can be heard in the clearing, controlling her breaths she listens closer. Nothing–only the sound of the bog nearby, full of chirping crickets, buzzing dragonflies, and the gurgling of water. Her adrenaline begins to fade, and it is her undoing. Pinned to the ground, two fangs nearly sink into her jugular if not for her quick thinking. Unfortunately, with her blade raised against her neck in defense, it allows for it to be used against her. Her blade, although weaved of magic, is swiped from her in a haze, and she is unable to properly dispel it before she's screaming in terror. White, hot pain blurs her vision, heaving through bile and half-strangled whimpers when she realizes her dominant hand is missing. It lies beside her, sinew and flesh clinging to its mangled end as not even bone is left. Biting down on her lip, Angelica makes a last ditch effort, weaving her missing bone into a dagger which she brutally stabs into the belly of her attacker. Imbuing it with fire, she wins the advantage with the element of surprise, sending the vampire stumbling backwards as she continues to assault him. Screaming in rage, she redoubles her efforts, tears free-flowing as she decapitates the monster. Only when his head rolls free with a vacant expression, does she collapse in a heap of exhaustion. If not dealt with soon, she would expire as well. Thankfully, his magic bindings disappear, setting the Count free as he reaches for his crumpled companion. Loopy from adrenaline, and perhaps a bit delusional, she smiles crookedly. “I saved your ass, Count, that had better earn me an apology.” Her eyes roll back before she can catch his beautifully sad expression, though. Even as Verandis calls out to her, she fades against him, unable to hear a word as nothing is left unclaimed by the void of unconsciousness.

[chateautae]

sammy unnie !! i was just going thru the "wifey" tag and OMG YA'LL ARE TRULY THE VMIN COUPLE OF TUMBLR 💞✨HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMOURTAE <33 ty so much for beta-ing mid ! AND YOU TWO REMIND ME OF MY BESTIE ( the one that sends me mid clippings yes.) I WISH YOU TOO FOREVER HAPPINESS AND GOOD HEALTH ! happy birthday again, @amourtae ! -💜

NAUR THIS IS SO SWEET!! Thank you babes and yeah we have no clue how we got that title but it’s cute and I thank everyone who thinks we’re the vmin of tumblr ☺️💓 and ugh screw me for being late to this but I’ll send my regards to @amourtae <33

[pocket-vvardvark]

WIP Wednesday

Ty for the tag @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter <33

I'd like to tag: @aviel-the-trans-bucket @hircines-hunter @fangsandsoftgrass @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @scholarlyhermit @sanza-17 @sulphuricgrin @changelingsandothernonsense @progmetol @varlaisvea @yansurnummu @yewphoric @lucius-the-sinful no pressure as always!! ♥️♥️♥️🥰 Love ya'll with my whole heart

I've got a new chapter in the works for sweet decay 🤪 so, here's the WIP under the cut bc it's sorta long

Rivenspire is cloaked in the warmth of the sunrise. Blooming across dry earth, it softens the land’s foreboding appearance into something habitable. Having been awake for far too long, Verandis palms his sunken eyes as the soft glow filters in through open windows behind him. At the very least, the weather was somewhat pleasant in favor of the most recent heatwave. His body is no longer among the living, but the heat still drove him onto the edge of exhaustion just as easily as it would to a human. Voyage to Lillandril would be a pleasant escape to the lingering heat, and a part of him missed Summerset. Among the cities in Summerset, he supposed Lillandril was the fairest. Cradled upon the sea, the wind which swept only the most beautiful flowers was tinted with a satisfying chill against the heat. His thoughts shift to Angelica; briefly imagining her time on the island. Yesterday, she mentioned her distaste for Altmer culture, which was fair in its own right. No matter how hard a half-breed attempted to live up to their purpose, no full-blooded Altmer would label them anything but an Ephem. As saddening as it was, this was the way of his people. Thumbing over a groove on the hardwood of his desk, Verandis mulls over his relationship with the pesky minx. It was growing, that's unfortunately true, but to what extent? It had been an incredibly long time since he called another his lover, and oddly enough, Angelica didn't seem the type. She seemed content to toy with him, refusing to acknowledge him as anything other than good fun. Although, her gentleness from the other day did start to confuse him. The whole situation vexed him; feeling like a bumbling idiot left in the dark of some grand plan. Years of building House Ravenwatch softened him, and maybe that was why he was far too slow on the uptake. Regardless, the job needed to be completed, and he supposed he should use her…talents she so dramatically bragged about. The sun rises above the trees, signaling it was time to move. Verandis does so, gathering the bare essentials and finally roaming the halls until he reaches Angelica’s room. Raising a hand to knock, his knuckles fail to reach the door as it's opened before he can. 

She smiles. It's surprisingly bright for how strangely she acted the other day. Another facade? He'll see in time, Verandis assumes. 

“So…it's time?” Casting red hair aside, she tugs it into a messy bun of locks, then pats her leathers down. Ah, another surprise; that she's actually wearing proper clothes this time.

Prepared to suffer by her hand from whatever acts of mischief she'll no doubt drum up, Verandis answers with the utmost exasperation, “Yes. Bring along what you need.” Squinting, he watches as she disappears back into her room to procure a satchel.

“I do hope that's necessary.” 

Laughing as she peeks into the standing mirror, she makes one final adjustment to push her breasts up. “Oh, hush. We're taking a trip to the market, right? I'll need gold for that…among other things.”

‘Among other things’, that little remark did not inspire much of anything in him but annoyance. She hoists her arm into his, linking together as she bats her lashes. “I’ve been waiting for a chance like this; to come along on some grand adventure with the Count of House Ravenwatch. My sister told me all about you, you know.” 

He's pulled along with her, walking a stride slower due to their height differences. It would seem her younger sister had a bit of a loose tongue. Thinking about Alethia softens his expression, though, he knows there was no ill intent behind her excited story-telling. She couldn't keep a secret, that much he knew.

“Did she, now? I can only pray she had good things to tell.” They pass the doors, already walking down the rough, cracked path to shornhelm. 

Making a sound rivaling that of a disgruntled guar, he’s bewildered enough to glance down at her. She sticks her tongue out once he does, “That's what I think about your stupid attempts at being posh. Or…maybe you're shy. Are you shy, count?”

She snorts, tugging at their linked arms with an impish grin. 

“You-” Verandis scoffs, but he makes no move to wriggle away, only yielding to her kisses placed on his cheek. “I'm not shy. You're just…too overzealous for me. Not even Gwendis is this tiring, I should have you know.” 

Gasping dramatically, she feigns a sniffle, “Breaking my heart so soon? How could you…I thought we shared something special.” 

“Special? Hm, I had the distinct feeling I was but only a tryst to you, Angelica.” Their footsteps halt on the barren path of dirt as Verandis stops. He grazes a knuckle over her cheek, relishing in her sudden speechlessness. There's a hint of intrigue in her eyes, but something much less distinct; embarrassment. 

“Tsk, tsk…” the pad of his thumb strokes the tip of her cheek bone, “Projecting, are we?” 

Life spreads back into her features, moving her lips as her expression excites, “Projecting? No way, now you've got to buy me something like you promised.” 

Nothing gets past her, he's sure of that as she reminds him of what foolish words he uttered last night. It almost worked, if she hadn't been so perceptive. No matter, it would prove useful in the next days they’d spend together 

“A shame you hadn't kept your promise, then.” She blinks, fascinated by the ethereal hue his carmine eyes take against the bright sunshine. It steals her breath away, causing the briefest stirring deep in her belly. Truthfully, she was beginning to fluster at the sight of him like this; gazing down at her with such a romantic expression, like he could dip her back any second for a kiss. There was no love lost between any number of her trysts and herself, as the fickle emotion only served to complicate things. It stood in the back of her mind, though, as if it tempted her into taking that step. Oddly numb, she couldn't make sense whether she even wanted love. Sure, she'd never stayed quite this long with any of her romps, but it felt strange to just up and leave like they never met. Perhaps it was as her mother said, that one day she would want to settle down, to be with the one man who stole her heart. A flush does make its way to her cheeks, so light a dusting that Verandis nearly mistakes it for the sun on her skin. She takes her own embarrassing reaction in stride, smiling to him so lovingly that they both falter in each other’s grasp. Unlike the night they shared, it is him who concedes first, his grasp brushing away so softly she misses it. Clearing his throat, they continue down the path until Shornhelm can be peered at in the distance. The blob grows until she can see the roofs, the people, and of course, the market. Angelica observes the sights, its fairly different from both of her homelands from what she can recall from both Summerset and Western Skyrim. Hard times have clearly claimed most of Rivenspire’s goods and, frankly, the morale, too. Most shopowners looked more like they were proud owners of shacks rather than appealing homes; it went double for their wares, unfortunately. The only exciting things left were the rare pieces of jewelry she spotted along the way, and the occasional sneak she took of the count’s face while he was deep in thought. A local apothecary catches her attention, drawing her closer until several ingredients greet her eyes. The woman looks only to be a few years younger than herself, smiling but ragged after whatever turned shornhelm into turmoil. Hopefully, after her sister’s little adventure here, things would get better. Nevertheless, Angelica wasn’t entirely heartless, so she took what little ingredients were left and paid a little extra. She winks, and tugs the count along before the young woman can argue against the generous amount of coins splayed across the worn market stall.

“Well…I believe that’s all I’ll be in need of. Never hurts to pack a few poisons.”

If he noticed what happened, which she realizes he must, it doesn’t earn her a conversation. Either perturbed by her shocking display of kindness, or their recently shared embarrassment, Angelica cannot tell beneath his seemingly aloof gaze. 

“We should get a move on, then. Rivenspire lacks ferries, so we’ll have to carriage our way to Glenumbra.” She wants to kick herself for feeling disappointed he doesn’t thrust his arm out for her to hold, but makes due with this new development. It’s not like they were close, but she was finding herself longing for some type of…praise from doing good. Divines, did whatever happened last night really affect her that badly? She hadn’t thought so, until her thoughts soured from every woman which passed their way to ogle Verandis’ human disguise. A part of herself swelled in pride when they sunk back down upon her appearance by his side. That feeling was only doubled when she realized they would never know his secret, and such an intimate secret it was. Jealousy wasn’t her style, but she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to swathe the Count in her perfume before exiting the castle next time. He certainly smelled better in it than whatever ancient perfume he wore beside her. Curious, she peeks over to marvel at his disguise. Honestly, she preferred how he always looked; with eyes as red as rubies and alabaster skin. It simultaneously enthralled and got her feeling rather heated. Such raw and dangerous intent was no longer evident in his now honey-colored eyes, and that left her feeling quite bored. Although…she could make due with those amber eyes if they watched her with the utmost adoration; that would be her goal for the day.

Grinning, she’s back to her confident self, looking as mischievous as a nixad. He realizes she snickers like one, too.

“Do I dare ask what you’re conjuring up behind me? I fear you, at times.”

Prancing back to his side, her fingers curl into his own, forcing him to slow his stride once more.

“Nothing much, just admiring the view.”

He snorts, “Of my backside? How quaint.”

Nudging him, he gains an eyeful of the sweet little twist of her lips, “It's a very disarming backside.” 

Sighing, he can't help but chuckle at that, “Whatever shall I do with you?”

His eyes jump between her own, searching for the reply her lips twitch with. Angelica settles for a gentle peck on his nose, laughing when he wrinkles it from the tickle. 

“I'm sure you'll dream up some elaborate plan to keep me quiet, darling.” 

[pocket-vvardvark]

TY for tagging me @skyrim-forever, @theoneandonlysemla, @yansurnummu !! <33

Sorry, it feels like it's been a few weeks since ya'll tagged me! I've got a few WIP headcanon things to share about my favorite gal, Alethia <3 I’m especially interested in her life before the planemeld. A lot of things I glossed over, but would like to give life to.

I'd like to tag: @fangsandsoftgrass, @aviel-the-trans-bucket, @scholarlyhermit and @madamefluffnstuff if you guys got any headcanons or WIPS floating around in your mind! no pressure <333

Lillandril

Alethia’s sickness prevents her from doing much with her family. Desperate for a cure, Alethia’s mother dedicates all her time to research. They don’t get to spend a lot of time together, so auntie Shana takes up the mantle as pseudo-mother. She teaches Alethia about magic, and fills her mind with stories about Summerset. Alethia becomes fascinated by both the flora and fauna, and eventually sneaks out when everyone is asleep. Wandering in a fevered haze, she is drawn to Ebon Stadmont’s beauty. Getting lost in the forest, she huddles against the brush, only to find a curious Indrik sniffing about. Desperately wanting to pet the animal, Alethia struggles to remain awake, but the sheer amount of stress on her body forces her to collapse. Her father, Meriano, visits when he can, and does try to spend as much time teaching her valuable information/skills to survive. Her sisters also spend a good amount of time with her, too.

The illness

I really like the idea that Alethia was born ‘blessed’ by Mara with an affinity for restoration, and inherently has large pools of magicka. But, because her constitution is so weak, she can hardly use any of it. Frequently, she’s left bedridden from bouts of vertigo, fatigue, and among other dire symptoms–hemoptysis. Finally, at age five, her mother is successful in her attempts to create medicine. Crushed up magicka resisting ingredients into a viscous liquid, Alethia takes it four times daily. The fevers subside, and she musters up enough energy to run! During the next two years, her family helps her strengthen her body. This is also the time she is plagued with non-stop dreams from Mara of an older version of herself clad in knight armor. 

Western Skyrim

Auntie Shana catches Alethia sneaking off her last time to Ebon Stadmont. Sensing danger, she shadows her until proven right when a werewolf strikes. They fight, and auntie shana sustains a few scratches. The tension between auntie shana, Ylva, Meriano, the kids, versus their parents/grandparents, they all leave. Meriano dorms in the mages guild, auntie shana and Ylva prepare for solitude. As sad as it is, the kids hardly see their father after that. (Until the summerset chapter >:3)

Benevolence of Mara

Maran knights are searching for someone who matches Alethia’s description. They are led to the temple of Mara in solitude where they finally find her. Their leader begs for Alethia to come back with them. With promises they will take good care of her, Ylva allows it only if it is what her daughter truly desires. Alethia complies, and she tearfully bids her family goodbye. At this time, she’s only twenty years old. A few months into her training, the beginning of the planemeld occurs after she naively attempts to help the ‘benefactor.’