#volkihar

[elderscrollsconceptart]

[ego-osbourne]

Serana Reference

//click for better image quality … Time: 7hrs — 7hrs//

Serana is a 4000-year-old vampiric Nord (physically in her mid-twenties). She is a spell-archer specializing in vampiric destruction, draining, illusion, and necromancy spells. She is part of Clan Volkihar, though has since broken ties with her family. As a Daughter of Coldharbour, she is able to turn into a Vampire Lord, which takes a were-bat type of form.

She was trapped in a stone sarcophagus until 4E 201, where she was freed by Dawnguard, who attempted to re-imprison her. After escaping the tomb, she was found wounded in her Lord form by Ego and Erandur, who helped her back on her feet and took her to Castle Volkihar. Feeling unwelcome in her home, she becomes independent from Volkihar and travels with Ego and Erandur, becoming an older sister figure to Ego and a daughter figure to Erandur.

———

Hot goth girlfriend finished! 3/6 for the Masquerade, woop woop! Next up is Miraak.

I’m not entirely sure how the Masquerade will side with the Dawnguard just get, but I do know that Serana will have Dawnguard armor, whether it’s gifted to her or she steals it lol

[vampiremommyinquisition]

Without further ado, bite

[monstersandmaw]

Valerica's Study - Castle Volkihar

(feel free to use for reference etc.)

[joitiks]

my only friend

[latesun]

Experimental page for the unofficial intro of my main Dragonborn, Roan. 1 of 3.

[uuesp]

"It's Morbin' time!" - The Last Dragonborn, if they choose to become a member of the Volkihar Clan in the Dawnguard Expansion Pack.

[whitegoldtower]

Vingalmo headcanons:

- He does believe he’s the shit, but not just because he’s an Altmer. To be honest, he’s too old to give a fuck about race anymore. He just wants to be a luxury slut in the fancy castle.

- He doesn’t know when to stop drinking (blood). Not uncommon to find him dry heaving over the balcony.

- He pity-fucked Ronthil once and now the little fucker won’t leave him alone

- He just wants to get rawdogged by a big, strong Nord, whether that’s Harkon or Orthjolf. (Or my OC Eddard.)

- Nothing would offend him more than telling him he’s “mutton dressed as lamb”. He’d genuinely be so insulted

- Has tried every drug in Tamriel. Thinks Skooma’s “mid”.

[helgiafterdark]

seeking disclosure

[argonianfeather]

every time i fast travel to the castle i am beset by two or three crossbow wielding assholes who want to carve me into pieces

[freekifran]

Chat with Ronthil from Skyrim! :)

Remember this vampiric sweetroll from the Volkihar Clan? He may be a people-pleasing pushover, but he's not cold like the other court members 🦇

[lockewrites]

A Bloody Birth

@blossom-adventures​ sent: Harkon, “Transforming into a werewolf/vampire or watching somebody else do so” for @nirnwrote​

OC & Harkon || SFW || 977 words AO3

Rhea joins the Volkihar clan and is given Lord Harkon's gift.

Her heart raced, blood rushing through her ears; her fingers twitched at her sides, and waves of nausea gnawed at the back of her throat. But this wasn’t all borne of fear; it ran alongside excitement. A new life. A new identity. A new family. 

“My dear court,” Harkon began, his voice booming from behind her, “we gather this night to celebrate the birthing of a new member to the Volkihar clan.”

The vampires sat at the long tables below her, raising chalices and offering soft cheers.

“It has been many a year since we invited another into our family,” Harkon continued, “should she survive.” His tone grew dark on the final word.

The knot in Rhea’s stomach tightened, but there was no backing out; not only would it guarantee her death, but she had no intention of doing so. She set her jaw and stared out at the vampires before her. This was what she wanted, where she belonged.

Heavy hands rested on her shoulders.

“Welcome to the night,” he whispered. His breath at her ear sent chills across her skin.

The sensation worsened as his fingers swept across the back of her neck and his thumb rested in the crook. With the barest of pressure, he guided her head to the side, exposing her pulsating artery.

In an instant, his lips were pressed against her skin, his fangs piercing deep. Rhea felt no pain; the venom of his bite flooded her body with a sense of euphoria. Every beat of her heart sent another pleasure-filled rush through her. The ritual suddenly felt exhibitionistic, but she cared little, even as a sensuous sigh escaped her. 

The edges of her vision wavered before growing dark; with each breath in, the shadow grew, the great hall disappearing more and more. If this was death taking her, she didn’t mind. What better way to leave this world than in sheer ecstasy?

“Garan.” Harkon’s voice sounded as though it were across the room, but she was sure he still held her. “Take her below.”

A new set of hands gripped her just as the shade took her completely. 

She awoke on a stone slab; the cold seeping through her clothing and offering some relief from the overwhelming burning that coursed through her body. Rhea sat up, her head swimming a moment as her surroundings came into focus. The room was dark, absent of any windows and lit only by a few candles. Rather befitting for a vampire’s castle.

“I am pleased to see you have survived the first trial of your transformation,” Harkon spoke, his voice far quieter than in the hall, but no less deserving of the respect he demanded. 

He stood at the far end of the room, in front of an eerie and intriguing statue, the mouth of which poured what she could only assume to be blood. As she took a deep breath, the scent of iron confirmed her suspicions. 

“Stand.”

Rhea did as commanded but collapsed to her hands and knees, the floor beneath her bare feet even colder than the slab. With her senses returning, she became aware of the pain and turmoil writhing under her skin; as though something was trying to claw its way out. That burning she’d felt upon waking was now a blue-tinged fire. Every joint and muscle throbbing; the overwhelming pain caused her to dry heave.

Over the rumbling in her ears, she heard his heels click against the stone as he approached her. Her eyes moved to his boots, just a step away. They traveled upwards, along his legs and torso, settling on those unsettlingly dark irises.

Harkon met her gaze, his face devoid of any emotion. “Stand,” he repeated, his voice harder.

She looked back at the floor and swallowed hard. The entirety of her body protested, but Rhea had no doubt Harkon would strike her down if she failed to heed his command. And she wanted this—needed this.

With every bit of willpower she could call forth, she pushed herself up, pulling her feet under her. Her arms shook and threatened to give out, but with Harkon’s fierce gaze watching her, she refused to allow them any leeway. Using the slab for leverage, she pulled herself to her feet; wobbling and on the verge of collapse, but she remained upright. 

“Excellent,” he said. “Now, release your power!”

He offered no further instruction; just three simple words giving no insight into how to do just that. Rhea furrowed her brow and closed her eyes, attempting to sift through her mind over the roar of her pain. Release your power. Release your power. Release your pain. Pain? She had been fighting the pain since waking; pushing it down, forcing through it, but perhaps… the power was her pain. 

She focused within herself, recalling the gnawing feeling of something attempting to tear through her flesh. With a deep breath, anticipating the torment it would wreak, Rhea let her body go limp, giving any of her remaining resolve over to the torture deep in her core. 

Her skin rippled, taking on a spectral gray color and growing taut across her muscles; her bones broke and reconfigured themselves in lengthened limbs; and from her shoulder blades, the skin ripped free to allow the growth of batlike wings. And through it all, she screamed. Blood-curdling, it echoed against the stone walls and pierced through her sharpened ears.

Rhea fell to her knees once more; blood trickled from her every orifice, dripping onto her hands, which now came to deadly clawed points. She swallowed, tasting nothing but metallic. Her tongue ran over elongated fangs, accidentally piercing itself, but that pain was nothing compared to what she’d just endured.

Harkon knelt in front of her and placed a hand under her chin. His thumb brushed the blood from her bottom lip.

He whispered, “Beautiful.”

[ego-osbourne]

Buncha Skyrim memes

Ego screwing with pre-redeemed Miraak after he steals one of their dragon souls. Big sibling energy even before they started considering each other as such

Ego during the Diplomatic Immunity quest in the Thalmor Embassy. I know this was probably just an overlooked detail that nobody cared about but what if they searched you and wouldn’t let you in if you were wearing a Talos amulet.

And this, featuring Serana at the front and Miraak and Ego duking it out in the back. Based on an irl photo my best buddy sent me

[wiccax-art]

Dovundrus Rothari

Finally sat down and sketched out a reference for him, he’s only been my oc since *checks watch* 2020

His armour is the volkihar knight mod!

[monstersandmaw]

Castle Volkihar

(feel free to use for references etc.)

[joitiks]

completing kindred judgment like