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Elven self-portrait. :3

I think I’d be an Snow Elf / Altmer mix, and more culturally Snow Elf. The clothing pattern is from the ancient armor.

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Hey hey so I said a while back that I think gods are immune to their own spheres but I never really like. Elaborated so here’s that i guess. Also kinda baseless so lore people please do not track me down and beat my ass 👉🏽👈🏽

Keep reading

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haha what no i’m not jealous

in which a half-nord noblewoman notices the kinship between emperor martin septim and his sworn knight, lord crusader gaël merser, and decides this simply won’t do

“His Majesty is very handsome, don’t you think?”

The holy knight glanced towards Deidre, her face flushing darker. She shifted uncomfortably, the red on her cheeks standing out against the gleaming armor of Pelinal. “Martin certainly carries his forefather’s charm,” she replied after a moment’s hesitation.

The half-elf leaned against Sir Gaël, her bare arms wrapping around the shorter woman’s shoulders in a half-embrace, her belly against Gaël’s back. She rested her chin on the Breton’s head. “Mm. You think so?” She smiled, and watched with some satisfaction as Gaël took on more of that lovely red color.

The spellsword in question cleared her throat, going still under Deidre’s touch. “Why, uh - why do you… ask?”

“Ask what?”

“After Martin’s, um, handsomeness.”

“Oh, curiosity.”

“Are you, are you interested in him?”

Deidre paused, and then laughed, hiding her snorts in Gaël’s hair. She could nearly feel the heat radiating from the other’s face.

Through her giggles, she managed to speak, “Am I interested - what I’m trying to figure out, Gwennie, is if you’re interested in him.”

Gaël mumbled something under her breath, extracting herself from Deidre’s arms and turning to face her. There was anger on her face - not the burning, hateful anger Deidre couldn’t soothe, but an indignant (and adorable), defensive anger.

“Emperor Martin is at least twenty years my senior!” Her voice, usually so dignified, was high and somewhat squeaky. Deidre bit back a grin.

“Nothing wrong with older men. Some people like the mature look.”

“I didn’t say - I just - he’s not -” Gaël looked upwards, as if seeking assistance from her Divines. “He’s very handsome in the … Sanguinite fashion.”

“Sanguinite?”

“Yes! You know, that sort of - the effortless type of handsome, the messy and disheveled thing.”

“And that’s what you’re into?” Deidre frowned a bit; three years of leading a Sanguinite cult - surely she qualified as being attractive in the ‘Sanguinite Fashion’.

“No! Not at all! I- I prefer the … Dibellan, um, the Dibellan form of beauty.”

“Dibellan?”

Gaël swallowed. “Um, y-yes. Similar to Sanguinite, but the… softer variant. More… ah, feminine, I suppose?”

“…Oh.” Deidre paused. “Oh.”

Gaël nodded and turned from her. “Y-yes, well, I’m going inside, have a lovely evening, my Lady -”

“Wait, Gwenaël -”

“Good night, sleep well, see you tomorrow!”

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she is halloween!

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testober 2020 prompt 27: daedric

Sheogorath, because I wanted an excuse to draw him. :3

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Gwendis because I just finished Rivenspire quests and she is my favourite, like absolute baby and I love her so much! Hope she will be with us in Markarth too!

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True altmer dig up antiquities for only one thing.

Adornments.

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@holamayan‘s oc Vanu!!!! it was really fun drawing her :3

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Everyone in castle volkihar has a different relationship with their beast form, and you can see it etched into sunken bat-nosed faces and leering out from ancient eye sockets. Hestla looks almost human, her beast form slumbering next to the warmth of the forge. Feran Sadri wears his beastliness proudly across his face, embracing both forms without throwing his allegiance to either (and it makes sense, maybe, that he is the most amicable of the clan should you choose to walk the halls as a mortal).

Harkon’s beast strains at the surface without rest, obsessively gnashing and baring its fangs to assert its power. His skin shifts like living clay, daring you to flinch. (Do not flinch. Do not rise to the challenge. Do not give him an excuse to devour you.)

Valerica, too, has a face like a mask made of living clay (garden soil made smooth and lifeless in preparation for the kiln), but hers is so very, very controlled. Every movement of her body, every twitch of her eyebrow, every shift of her jaw is deliberate and precise. She wears her ancient visage of humanity as a display of uncanny skill. She is in control, and any threat to that must be rectified. You feel sloppy and inadequate under her gaze.

Serana looks human.

She looks so human that you forget that she holds the blood of an ancient and powerful curse. You forget the beast that dwells in her bones and in her veins. (Maybe it’s a product of all those years in stasis. Maybe in a couple of centuries she’ll look just like her mother and father. You don’t want to think about that. She doesn’t either.)

Serana never forgets her beastliness. It’s there in her every thought and movement because it is her. She is her beast form and her beast form is a reflection of herself. Its in the strength of her grip and the ice at her fingertips and the surprised little laugh she always gives after a quick victory. It’s a reflection of all of those powerful awful things that shaped her and pulled at her, and she embraces that so thoroughly that you forget there is anything to embrace.

Serana looks human. She looks more human than you, really, and you forget the beast that dwells in every fiber of her body. And then you’re facing Harkon, and she’s staring down the man who is her father, hand clenched around the blade she will use to kill him, and he makes to kill you and then she is her beast. Her face contorts like living clay into something awful and terrifying and she screams that he will not hurt you, and something in your chest swells with fear and awe, and you think that you would gladly die for this woman. This thing of teeth and snarling eyes and contorted muscles who is still so very, very human.

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Portrait practice with Indris. He was my main ESO tank though compared to my other OCs I’ve not really developed him much further. An honourable mercenary/contractor and that’s about as far as I got. Changed his eyes to purple recently to differentiate him a bit more from my other dunmer characters. 

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been reading about welkynar stuff for my vestige and i came across this bit

which got me thinking. what happens when a welkynar or their gryphon dies?

past the grief and the mourning process, do they find themselves missing something they didn’t even know they had until it was too late? does the knight without their steed feel heavy, chained to the ground, forever longing to once again feel the rush of flight and hear the powerful beating of wings as they reach out to touch the clouds? does a gryphon without its rider become as wild and ferocious as others of its kind, however always chasing the feeling of simplicity—of humanity, the paradoxical yet ever-present feeling of wanting to want?

or maybe when one goes so does the other. maybe their worlds fade to black at the same time. perhaps, even though their bodies lay beneath twin tombstones, their souls live on in aetherius, finally soaring higher than the skies they’d traversed in life.

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A little color experiment with Queen Ayrenn! I’ve been playing more ESO lately and fumbled my way through Auridon lol. To Grahtwood I go!

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Commissions

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very quick and messy sketches of the bastard that will forever own my heart ♥

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TEStober Day 23 - Nightingale

A pretty crummy deal but a nice set of armor.

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Commission of Honey for @avioretc thank you for commissioning me!! <3!

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I’ve been silent for too long and can no longer bear to keep this inside: @holamayan is a good person and deserves many good things.