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throughtrialbyfire · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday ♥

a HUGE thank you to @dirty-bosmer @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @skyrim-forever and @umbracirrus for tagging me this week!! i appreciate it so dearly, and i hope everyone's having a good wednesday. <3

i'm tagging @aphocryphas @thequeenofthewinter @gilgamish @totally-not-deacon and @thana-topsy !! and of course, anyone who wants to do this and i didn't directly tag, please feel free to say i tagged you! no pressure as always, can't wait to see what you're all working on!

this week, i have two bits to share. one's from Cycle of the Serpent, chapter 18, and the other is a one-shot i'm slowly piecing together about athenath's mother, Lorasephona, and how she met their family friends. i like working on backstory stuff, and i hope you'll all appreciate it, as well!

Cycle of the Serpent - Chapter 18

Wind raked its strong fingers through the plains. He tugged his cowl over his head to escape the sudden chill. The scent of wood-smoke from chimneys perfumed the air, stirring up against the indigo skies. Houses lined one district of Whiterun, businesses in another. A world of grids and winding streets atop rolling hills, with Dragonsreach perched high above it all, the ground it crested like the great claw of one of those heinous beasts. All of it stuck to him, the images of the houses and trees, the stones and the wood posts, the sound of night birds and insects in their natural chorus. At one time, he'd been adrift in the world. At one time, he'd known nothing but long roads and surface-level observations of towns, and here, he became keenly reminded of that life. After all, it was one he'd sunk back into before he'd crossed into Skyrim.

Briefly, he allowed his memories to play out before his eyes as he walked cautiously through the Whiterun streets. He'd made a good living in his travels, selling wares, healing the sick, even tending to ailing animals when called upon to do so. While he'd never called himself a physick, some did. Saving a few lives would do that to a man's reputation.

As he gazed out on the city, passing through narrow streets, his expectations of Skyrim unwound from his tight hand. Did he truly expect Nurelion to drop everything and take him on as an apprentice? He scoffed at it now. Still, it was worth a shot. He did not intend to give up, quite the opposite. But for now, just for now, a larger purpose presented itself in the wingspan of a beast and the path up a mountain.

Purpose. Lives needed no purpose to exist. He'd shake his head and deny it all he wanted, but in the back of the Bosmer's mind, the longing for it remained. To be known, to have his name scrawled across academic papers and his work lauded far and wide, an alchemist who did things none else could do, who created potions none else could make, who had lived and worked with purpose.

He didn't think his life would ever involve dragons, but c'est la vie.

Guards patrolled long into the night, bearing small torches whose flames starved for more oil. One passed him as he approached the temple of Kynareth, turning his metal face to Emeros. He only stopped momentarily to take a look at the Mer, then muttered an apology upon realizing this was one of the Thanes, and marched off into the dark. Emeros wondered what had passed through his mind.

He figured he didn't want to know.

With trepidation carrying his steps, he approached the Gildergreen. The tree startled him in its stark contrast to the land; where the city lived, breathed, and buzzed, this tree was cold, a husk, discarded shell. He scanned the upper branches, peering into the dark, the torches of passing guards giving him enough illumination to glimpse the wooden carcass before him, the warping in the branches, the angles and jutting shards of the once-living center of Whiterun. He found himself on a bench, allowing the night air to take hold of him. He tugged at his cowl like a shield against the withering breeze, a reflection of the week's past events crawling up from the streams of his consciousness. A week, that's all it had been? Disbelief rattled against him, but he shouldered it anyways.

He'd heard whispers of the Civil War. He had only heeded them as rumors, something that would surely not affect him. If he made it to Windhelm, to the White Phial, he would be so engrossed in work and conversations with Nurelion that the war wouldn't brandish a single thought to his neck. He'd been crossing the border, right before dawn, the thick of night's last breath still coating layers of pink against the horizon. He could remember a struggle, words exchanged, something murky in his memory, people in blue and silver mixed frantically with red and brown armor.

Then, he'd woken up in a cart with two other elves, and quite a few Nords.

The shock of the bindings set his nerves alight and he struggled against the tight-bound leather, but Wyndrelis - apathy coating his features, defeat, even - explained that it was no use, that he had already tried. Together, an idea formed, and they attempted to pry the bindings off one another. An Imperial soldier leading another cart observed them carefully, and they realized with dread pitting their stomachs that this was no use.

Then, Athenath, the wide-eyed Altmer awoke. Last to be tossed on the carts. Last to struggle. His fearful gaze grasped each face for a sign of help, from himself to Wyndrelis to Ralof to Lokir. All of these men were certain that they were going to die. Emeros swallowed the fear. He would go to the axe with dignity. Aldmeri pride, perhaps, stemming from his father.

Of course, they wouldn't make it that far. And with their former captor now a possible ally, they'd promised to warn of the dragon, and made their careful way to Whiterun.

Emeros rested his chin in his hands, watching the dim puff of torchlight and smoke, light passing over the houses, Nord architecture steadfast and hardy, stubborn and proud, much like the people inhabiting each home. He thought back on his companions. Wyndrelis, a mage with strange eyes and a calm demeanor. Athenath, a bard with a bright, silvery laugh and a bitter temper.

And of himself? There wasn't much to tell.

One-shot (unnamed atm)

The night threatened to clasp its hard fingers around her. As she was about to give up any chance of finding another living soul in these woods, a torch landed from a tree above her, plotting down into grasses below. She closed her eyes, the image of her surroundings in flames springing to her mind, but when she opened them, she saw nothing but the torch and it's decisively controlled flickering.

"What brings you here, elf?" Came a voice, roughened against and deep inside the throat of the speaker. Lorasephona slashed her gaze through the trunks of the trees, but catching nothing, she turned her eyes upwards.

Concealed in the darkness, an Alfiq, black as night, golden eyes narrowed down at her curiously. The Khajiit swished her tail lazily from the branch she rested, comfortable, it seems. Perhaps she'd been waiting for someone, Lorasephona thought as she backed slowly from the torch. She knew better than to try to defend herself from bandits, it did more good to outrun them, and Lorasephona was a very good runner.

"I don't-" she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I don't know, I'm quite-" she didn't know why she was admitting her situation, but the Alfiq raised her chin, inquisitive in her posture. "I'm lost, dreadfully, and-"

The Alfiq woman put up a paw, silencing the elf. "Mhm," she hummed, rising to her feet, slinking down to a fork in the branches where they thickened against the body of the tree, hunching down, tail swishing down against the bark. "Ka'taaji thinks, perhaps, you are more lost than you dreamed."

Lorasephona knit her brow. "Was that a threat?"

Swish.

"Only if you make it so."

Swish.

Lorasephona frowned, brow knitting. The Khajiit sighed, and with a controlled motion of her paw, the torch levitated. It found it's way to Lorasephona's hand, nervously outstretched, fingers clasping the handle.

"This one has no ill will for you, but… Wary, perhaps. These are unkind lands, and far from home, one must be prepared for whatever comes their way."

The elf nodded slowly, strings of her blond hair curling around her cheeks. The pallor of her face seemed to alarm the small Alfiq momentarily, golden eyes widening. She wiggled for a moment, cautious of the jump, before leaping down into the grass with an elegance and grace that betrayed her possible upbringing, images of wide, sprawling woods and golden-adorned mages of Elseweyr padding around Lorasephona's thoughts.

"Are you ill, elf?" Ka'taaji asked, tilting her head. Lorasephona paused, knitting her brow.

"What do you mean?"

"If the elf girl is ill, Ka'taaji will take her to Dra'khurra. Simple."

She weighed the options for a moment, but lying felt worse in these circumstances. Biting back the urge to say yes, on the off-chance that these people had food and a spare bed, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers through a stray curl at her cheek.

"No, I'm just… I'm not ill."

Ka'taaji waited, but with Lorasephona's refusal to elaborate, she gave a small shrug. After a moment, she turned, the grass prickling under her paws. "Follow this one, you must be hungry. And take care of that torch, Ka'taaji is using much of her magicka to keep it lit."

So it was magic. Lorasephona, confusion matting her expression, decided not to question the Alfiq, and followed.

#tes fic #skyrim fic #skyrim fanfiction #ficblr #tesblr #tes v #bishop.txt #oc ; athenath #oc ; emeros #my writing #cycle of the serpent #oc ; wyndrelis #oc ; ka'taaji #oc ; lorasephona #elder scrolls

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cecexwrites · 2 months

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Never a God

Adler Cresswell District Eight Adler was nearly 18 when he heard his name called for the reaping. Having lived all his life fighting to survive this was nothing new. He made no allies, got no help, he survived the games the same way he made it through life- on his own. However, when the games were over and he was the last player standing, the true hell began. A wash in a sea of booze, lovers and gambling, Adler is waiting for his anchor. And he might just find it, as Katniss Everdeen shouts 'I volunteer'

Eulalia Golding District One Eulalia, a legacy tribute, the daughter of Victor Lysander Golding, and one of the youngest volunteers, being only fourteen when she spoke up at the reaping. The young Eulalia cut down her competition, letting them completely underestimate her. She won when she tricked her district mate, having spent the entire games convincing him she loved him- only to slit his throat last minute- but the public never saw that. They only saw a winner. Life as The Capitol's sweetheart was great- until it wasn't anymore. After seeing his daughter win the games, Lysander took his own life- not wanting to see what happens after. And she soon found out that the grass isn't greener on the other side of the games.

Farren Rochester Capitol Resident Anyone who looks at Farren would see exactly what she wants them to, a silly party girl who is here for a good time, just trying to have as much fun as she can while she's still here. However, anyone who knows her, who really looks at her would see that her glass never seems to truly empty, her eyes are never faded, her mind never soft. No, Farren Rochester is a predator, but she won't let anyone know that. Not unless you catch her at her real home, the underground gambling den she funds.

Orin Flair District One Orin Flair didn't mean to be the tribute for district one. He thought he'd done a great job of being middle of the pack. However- he was told, the day before the reaping that he would be the one to volunteer. He didn't realize until later that his father had pissed off the council. That he was meant to die for what his dad did. When it was revealed to him- in a note dropped into the arena for him- he decided, he was going to win and he would never set foot in District one again, a promise he's kept to this day, instead spending his time in the Capitol, rubbing elbows with other victors and people in charge. He was the one who mentored Eulalia when she went into the games.

Roan Rochester Capitol Resident The Hunger Games are a time honored tradition 74 years and counting. And Roan is one of the men who make it happen. A Game Maker with a ton of potential, he finds the games fascinating. He thinks watching people fight to survive and more than that, watching people watch other people fight to survive. And of course, his mean streak comes out when he's plotting and planning the tricks. As he witnesses the girl from District twelve volunteer to save her sister, he can feel the tides changing. And Roan is nothing, if not adaptable.

Thane Hawksley Capitol Resident Becoming a manager and agent for a victor wasn't exactly Thane's plan in life. However, when he found himself in need of a job, and a friend offered him the roll, he knew he'd be a fool to pass it up. That was fifteen years ago. Now over the years he's gone through a few different clients, but the most meaningful one came a couple years back, when he was handed a young victor from District one and told to make sure she didn't do anything too wild, and blow up her image. Now, closer to her than ever, Thane's eyes are on the future and what's coming next, and not anything anyone could have expected.

#hunger games oc #hunger games ocs #never a god

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skyrim-forever · 10 months

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WIP

Happy WIP *checks watch* F R I D A Y

Well I eventually got to it and I have something to share! Thanks to @thequeenofthewinterand @dirty-bosmer for tagging me this week! Sorry it's a bit late haha

This is a bit more of my prep for TES Summer Fest, August 11th Prompt "Sword", set in the aftermath of the Battle of Whiterun where my Dragonborn Theodora will work through her complicated feelings on the Empire, destiny and Tiber Septim the man.

The Battle of Whiterun had been an Imperial Victory. A definitive moment in the Skyrim Civil War. At least that’s what she would report to General Tullius. But looking around at the damage, the destroyed buildings, the broken down defense lines, the bodies. Divines the bodies. Theodora found it hard to believe that anything about what had happened was a victory.

She had stayed back to help the others sort through the bodies, identifying anyone they could in order to give the families closure. It was hard to see so many die for such a worthless cause. It was a worthless cause Imperials versus Stormcloaks, Empire versus Thalmor, it was all worthless. Glancing around at what remained of the living, the soldiers crying out over the bodies of their friends, she felt a pit in her stomach.

The Greybeards had said Alduin’s return marked the end of the world, and more importantly she should let it happen. Although determined not to let that happen, even if it meant defying the Greybeards, Theodora did find herself tempted to let it all burn. Between the senseless Civil War in Skyrim and General Tullius’s comments indicating a war with the Thalmor was peering down at them; letting the world end did feel tempting.

Walking through the Wind District, happy to see the Glidergreen survived, she stops at the Statue of Talos. Growing up her family were not particularly faithful divines so would she never quite understood the outrage from the Nords after the Great War. However, upon finding out she was also Dovahkiin, Theodora began to look at him differently. Tiber Septim had been a man, not unlike herself, and depending on which origin story you believe, he was also a stranger in a strange land. He had been great. But in seeking greatness he never achieved goodness. What do I want? Seek Greatness? But oh to be happy she thought wistfully. Closing her eyes she imagines another life. In Anvil, her father is about to retire from the Legion, her mother teaches her the dances of those before her, they are happy. Perhaps she is married, with children, they are neither rich nor poor for they have each other. A life that feels unbelievable.

"Lost in thought are you? I did not take you for the religious type." Jarl Balgruuf emerges behind her, no doubt returning after taking care of his people.

"Desperate times will have you seeking comfort from anyone, no offence my Jarl."

"None taken my Thane." He clears his throat for a moment, "how are you holding up?"

#skyrim #the elder scrolls #tes #tesblr #fanfic #fanficition #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim fanfic #skyrim ocs #oc: theodora #wip wednesday #wip

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wellthebardsdead · 1 year

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Shamat: *visibly shaking as he holds the key to breezehome, staring up at the building in disbelief*

Lydia: *holding groceries and a few additional furnishings they’ll need* My thane? Are you alright?

Shamat: y-yes I just… I can’t believe… I have a home. *opens the door and steps inside to see it already warmly lit and decorated* I spent so long on the streets and in prison that… I never imagined I’d ever have anything like this…

Lydia: *smiles* It’s a fine home, one you earned all on your own. And one I’ll happily defend. I’ll unpack my things and make dinner.

Shamat: th-thank you. *smiles before slowly walking through the house. Exploring the enchanting nook, the alchemy set up, diving onto his bed and relaxing into the comfort, before walking by the bathroom and pausing as he spots the children’s room… so many empty beds* … *walks back upstairs* I’ll be back shortly d-do you need anything?

Lydia: no I don’t think so, there’s plenty here for the two of us for tonight.

Shamat: *nods and walks out* okay I’ll be home-… home soon… *smiles pausing on that word again before closing the door and walking to the wind district*

*a few hours later*

Shamat: We’re home.

Lydia: *just finished making dinner* welcome home my th- we? *looks down to see Lucia peer in from behind the dark elf* …Well good thing I misread the recipe then, I made too much for just two people.

#Lydia skyrim #Shamat dragonborn #Shamat the sharmat #Lucia skyrim #dunmer dragonborn

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daisychainsandbowties · 1 year

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i have sadly been thinking about the skyrim au all night

consider:

- ava is the dragonborn. obviously.

she wears light armour. elven-inspired but dyed in blacks and silvers (’because my name, mary. silva. do you get it?’’ava i will fling you off the cloudtop district.’)

she fights with a sword/shield combo (found a stalhrim sword in a tomb, would die for it) & uses a standard elven shield, but also in black. she dual-wields swords, sometimes, but mary doesn’t like it. watches ava doing a fancy pirouette and says ‘yeah, wow, that looks like a great way to get stabbed.’

ava can also be found using a greatsword (skyforged steel) but eventually all of her weapons will be dragonbone. because sexy.

she wants to learn magic! ‘what kind of magic?’ ‘uhm... all of it?’

also. concept: ava with FUS RO DAH

- mary and shannon are Companions (which means, yes, they are also werewolves). ava is in the companions and mary simply refuses to turn her into a wolf. “you’re the dragonborn, ava. you have enough problems.” “oh, come on, i could fit, like, one more problem.”

shannon is the harbinger and is, like ava, a sword + shield user. she’s kind of famous but pretends not to know about it. wears the wolf armour set.

mary uses a really big axe. like, really big. she wears the GOOD steel armour.

- bea is a necromancer in the College of Winterhold (she also specialises in destruction and dabbles in restoration - has long, heated arguments with the head of restoration about the disciplines being ‘functionally identical’).

wears dark robes in the college style, but a little stylised, kind of bloodborne hunter-esque. (read: she has a little half-cloak and suspenders)

she doesn’t tell anyone, but she’s a superb knife-thrower. keeps a few stashed on her person, just in case her magicka runs out (unlikely).

she’s a little bit more arrogant in this au. a little bit more confident about herself. but intensely private. has never once talked about her feelings. suspects that she would drop dead if she tried.

she’s the lead researcher at the Saarthal excavation, but she needs a crew to venture deeper inside. which is when she meets ava and mary, who happen upon her in the corona of an intense magical dogfight with a group of mages who’ve occupied a nearby fort

- lilith is in the thieves guild. she’s kind of vex, she’s kind of karliah. (read: just so incredibly sexy)

lilith has a daedric sword. bask in that image for a sec.

she’s also, unfortunately, the Listener (which she found out after a contract brought her inside the Dark Brotherhood’s (sexy assassins) sanctuary and she hid inside the Night Mother’s coffin. rookie mistake)

lilith tends to use a sword/dagger combo or a sword/magic combo (generally summoning atronachs. (thinks the fire ones are overdone. sticks to storm and frost constructs)

she dabbles in destruction magic, mainly to (viv from dragon age-style) freeze people who annoy her.

beholden of the Night Mother, but sworn into Nocturnal’s service. (this is pre-canon days for the guild. because i say so)

- camila is also in the thieves guild. but in an adorable way. in just the cutest way.

also a skilled alchemist. develops non-lethal poisons so that lilith ‘doesn’t have to stab everything you see.’ - camera pan to lilith lounging on a sofa ‘where’s the fun in that?’

uses a bow, but is also a dab hand at invisibility spells. they’re not the most stable though, have a tendency to putter out after about 20 seconds.

she’s working on a design for a hand crossbow.

- at the beginning of the au they are all somewhat mid-way through their respective paths.

ava is the thane of whiterun, but she hasn’t climbed the Throat of the World. is, frankly, avoiding it. ava wants to ride on a dragon so bad (“mary, if cool why evil?”)

mary is enabling her with contracts from the companions and the hunt for ysgramor’s weapon fragments.

bea is (obviously) just at the saarthal excavation. has yet to uncover the eye of magnus. she’s fascinated by ancient magic, the dwemer, the snow elves etc. etc. also would genuinely commit crimes to get her hands on an Elder Scroll. (baby wanted to be a moth priest as a child. so ill-advised)

lilith is a nightingale AND, unfortunately, being actively hunted by the Dark Brotherhood because they need her to listen to their corpse woman.

cam wants to be a nightingale more than anything. she & lilith are kind of a tag-team situation (where Lilith is brawn/intimidation/sneak and stab and cam is long range support/proper footpad stuff w/o violence, knockout darts etc etc.)

bea initially thinks that ava is incredibly reckless, but their excavation of saarthal changes that...

#you don't understand i LOVE skyrim #this is probably totally incomprehensible but look i'm having a fantastic time #bea as a mage is just !!!!! everything. and she gets bloodborne clothes because she deserves it #ava would be so good as the dragonborn #GUYS SHE'D GET TO FUS RO DAH #this is gonna be my little side-project i think #warrior nun #avatrice skyrim au

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pinklocksoflove · 10 months

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Nazeem: Do you get to the Cloud District often....

Nafiif: Not only am I a thane, I came here in a gods damnned airship! What do you think?

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stele3 · 9 months

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#destiel daily digest

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musetta3 · 9 months

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alright tell me about the skyrim prompts!

Hi Viking! 'Skyrim Prompts' are just what they say on the tin: prompts that tell the adventures of Iseult, my Dragonborn, and her reluctant companion, grumpy Vilkas. It's an enemies-to-lovers story that's grown on me; writing these two is a lot of fun!

A squeaky hinge cut through his words. Vilkas glared. “Who dares enter?” He asked. “The Harbinger—” his words trailed off as none other but Iseult the Black let herself into Kodlak’s chambers, her servant hurrying after. “My Thane, you’re not supposed to just let yourself in,” Lydia said, “let me at least announce you.” Iseult waved away her words, “no need: I’m not some poncy noble from the Cloud District, Lyd. Well met, Master Kodlak; I’m here to join your guild—” Vilkas frowned at her rudeness. “No.” Her eyes widened, “w-what?” “I said. No.” Vilkas sat back in his seat, leveling his sternest glare. “Applications are closed.” “What? Word in Riften was that you were hiring.” “‘Hire?’ We’re not petty mercenaries or bandits, my lady; ours is a fellowship, with an honorable and long history. We don’t ‘hire’ anyone.” He couldn’t help but smirk at her exasperation. “I’m in charge of recruitment, not Master Kodlak.” Kodlak turned to him, “what are you doing, boy?” His words were low, rushed. “ You can’t just turn her away, we need new recruits—” “She’s more trouble than she’s worth.” It was, perhaps, a bit petty of Vilkas to use his authority this way; any warrior in his right mind would have leapt at the chance to have the Dragonborn of legend join their ranks. But Iseult’s reckless entrance and distinct lack of propriety irked him, spoke more of her character than a hundred Lydias trying to vouch for her did. Iseult the Black was reckless, self-entitled, and a terrible candidate for following orders, if he ever saw one. It was a dangerous combination, one that Vilkas refused to entertain even for even a moment, despite the wolf-blood stirring in his veins. If he accepted her into their ranks, she’d be nothing but trouble, a detriment to all… including his concentration, looking as lovely as she did. Iseult, meanwhile, leaned in, narrowing her eyes. “Wait. I remember you. You’re that flustered man from the well: Master Vilhelm—” “Vilkas,” he corrected, tone clipped and tart. “My name is Vilkas.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “My condolences. Now… Let. Me. In.” “No! You—” “Must first pass the trial,” Kodlak interrupted. “Every recruit must prove themselves worthy of the Companions.” Vilkas stared at him. “B-But, Master! She’s—” “How many times must I tell you not to call me ‘Master?’” Kodlak muttered, shaking his head. He led the way to the door, explaining the glorious history of their fellowship. Iseult stuck her tongue out at Vilkas over her shoulder and followed, quite pleased with herself. Vilkas couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Divines,” he cursed. “We’re doomed…"

#skyrim #wip #wip titles game #vilkas #vilkas skyrim #vilkas x dragonborn #enemies to lovers #skyrim fanfiction #iseult #my fanfiction #musetta writes

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pudgecuddles · 10 months

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In My Time of Need - TaeKookMin pt. 1

Part of the Skyrim WG AU. Inspired by @tae156. Here is Jungkook's first meeting with the 95'ers! This is basically their origin story and the beginning of Jungkook's fascination with weight gain. The next part will be called A Night To Remember if that gives you any clues 👀

“And here is Taehyung Kim, your gift from the Jarl unto you, Dragonborn Jungkook, for saving Whiterun from mortal danger. We could not have defeated that dragon without your help.”

Taehyung Kim stood before Jungkook, slightly shorter than him and probably a year or two older. He was a Bosmer, a Wood Elf, with tanned skin and ebony hair. Long, sharp ears poked out between the black curls, framing his handsome face. Intense dark brown eyes stared into his soul. He wore form fitting leather armor, and had a hunter’s bow strapped to his back. An archer it seemed.

Jungkook looked back and forth from Proventus Avenicci to this new Taehyung character rapidly. They were gifting him a person?! “Ah- Thank you Advisor Avenicci. I accept the Jarl’s, uhm… gift.”

Nodding, Proventus Avenicci stepped aside and walked back towards Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, the leader of the city Whiterun. Whiterun was the first big town that Jungkook arrived at after nearly being executed on false pretenses back in Helgun. Luckily a dragon came and accidentally saved his head from being chopped off. Unluckily, said dragon destroyed the town entirely.

Suddenly Taehyung spoke, shaking Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“The Jarl has appointed me to be your housecarl. It's an honor to serve you.”

“Ah, that’s okay really. I don’t need anyone serving me thank you very much.”

“But- But you’re my Thane. I'm sworn to your service. I'll guard you, and all you own, with my life.”

“Okay, that’s a little intense.” Jungkook couldn’t help but say out loud. This poor kid, he probably wasn’t even much older than himself and he was already practically a slave to some stranger. Said stranger being himself. “Let’s just… follow me, okay? Let’s grab a drink.”

Divines knew he needed one.

As soon as they stepped out of Dragonsreach, Jarl Balguuf’s palace, Taehyung turned to him, grabbed his shoulders and began to shake them. “Oh thank Y'ffre! I’m outta there!”

Taken aback, all Jungkook could utter was a startled “Huh?” before Taehyung grabed his hand and started power walking down the steps.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been stuck in Dragonsreach just waiting for some stuffy, insufferable noble to catch the Jarl’s attention and assign me to them on account of how many septims they have. But you! Oh, you! You saved us! Actually saved us! I heard we would have been charred skeever hide without your help! Oh, let me buy you a mug of mead, please!” Taehyung’s box-like grin was contagious, and Jungkook found himself smiling in spite of himself.

They were already in the Wind District, below Dragonsreach but above the markets, when Jungkook dug his heels in and forced Taehyung to stop with him. “Hang on, hang on! Before we do anything, I need to know. I’m a Thane? No one really explained to me what that means…”

Taehyung, yanked to a sudden stop, looked back at Jungkook exasperatedly. “The Jarl has recognized you as a person of great importance in the hold.” He seemed to be reciting the words from memory. “A hero. The title of Thane is an honor, a gift for your service.”

“Oh.” Jungkook was kind of shocked. Him? An important person, again?! Could he stop being special for five minutes already?!

Taehyung’s smirk was back as he leaned in closer to Jungkook’s ear. “Guards will know to look the other way, if you let them know who you are.” He giggled.

Jungkook couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. This guy was growing on him, he’d admit.

“Now come on, let’s get to the Bannered Mare before stupid Mikael starts caterwauling again. Can’t wait for the day someone teaches that womanizer to keep his hands to himself.”

“Wait, I thought you said you’ve been stuck in Dragonsreach? How do you know so much about Whiterun?” Jungkook asked.

Taehyung side eyed him, “I wasn’t always a Housecarl, you know? Used to be a guard! Then I got promoted.” He said ‘promoted’ in a funny voice. “Whole lotta nothing that was. Until you came around that is!”

Jungkook blushed as Taehyung sent him a wink. The Bosmer was cute.

Entering the Bannered Mare at two in the afternoon on a Sundas was like entering a partially abandoned temple of Arkay, the god of birth and death. Unnervingly quiet.

Ignoring the unpleasant atmosphere, Taehyung led Jungkook to the bar where he plopped down a bag of coins and asked Hulda, the inn’s proprietor, for two bowls of stew and two mugs of Honningbrew mead.

The mead came quickly, and the stew not long afterwards.

As they ate and talked, they got to know each other. Jungkook told Taehyung about discovering he was Dragonborn, finding the dragonstone in Bleakfalls Barrow, an ancient Nordic crypt full of the undead, and eventually finding his way to Whiterun. Taehyung told Jungkook about growing up in Riften’s orphanage, running away with another kid and making their way to Whiterun only to end up as guards. He mentioned there being an incident that led to him becoming Housecarl, but another round of drinks entered the scene before he could finish his story.

Jungkook was sipping on his second mug of mead, enjoying the now silent company of his Housecarl when he noticed someone else in the room with them. Leaning behind the happily feasting Taehyung, Jungkook spotted a short man in amber colored mages robes sipping on a mug of something in the corner of the inn. He had hair the color of wheat straw and the complexion of a Breton.

As if he sensed Jungkook staring, the man looked over to Jungkook and raised an eyebrow.

In a trance, Jungkook muttered to Taehyung he’d be right back and got up to say hi. Taehyung was too busy digging into his seconds that he didn’t seem to care where Jungkook went. In hindsight, maybe an apparent glutton wasn’t the best choice for a Housecarl…

Either way, Jungkook sauntered on over to the Breton.

“H-Hi?” Jungkook’s voice cracked. Coughing he tried again, “Hi, I’m Jung-.”

“I know who you are.” The beautiful man drawled, apparently unimpressed. “You’re the Dragonborn, an Imperial lost in Skyrim, here to save us all from the dragon threat. Yadda yadda… I don’t care.”

Jungkook didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted by the man’s irreverence. “Well-”

“All I want to know, is if I can drink said great and mighty Dragonborn under the table or not, get it?” The man was all of intimidating, up until he hiccuped cutely.

Oh, he was a drunk.

Jungkook swallowed down a laugh and put on a serious face. “Of course, and who would I have the honor of drinking with this afternoon?” He waved down Saadia, the bar maid, to grab them a round of drinks.

“Jimin Park.” The Breton declared. “Battlemage ex-hic!-traordinaire.” He pointed somewhere to the left of Jungkook’s face, leaning forwards, almost off the table.

Quickly sitting down in front of him, so that hopefully Jimin didn’t fall off of the table, Jungkook struggled not to laugh at the circumstances.

“Here you lads go.” Saadia set down two large mugs of ale. Must have been what Jimin was drinking before. Jungkook preferred the sweeter taste of mead.

Jungkook handed her some coin as Jimin reached over to grab his mug. “Let’s see what you can do outside of battle, huh?”

Jungkook lifted his own much and clinked them together. “Let’s see, indeed…”

Perks of being Dragonborn:

Ability to Shout

Audience with the Grey Beards

Countrywide acclaim

Apparently can’t get drunk???

It’d been several rounds of ale in when Jungkook realized that the drunkest he was feeling was pleasantly buzzed.

On the opposite side of the table however, Jimin was leaned over his fifth mug of ale giggle-snorting at a joke he told himself.

“A-And when he woke up, his skeleton was missing! And the priest was never heard from again!” He slapped the wooden table several times, guffawing, causing their mugs to jump slightly with each slap. Jeez, for a mage, this man was strong…

“That’s… great?” Jungkook set down his mug, deciding to take pity on the other man. “Wow, is it late! You know what? You win. You’ve drunk me under the table. I can’t take another sip!”

“About -hic!- time!” Jimin blinked one eye after the other, like an Argonian. “Now pay up!”

Jungkook handed over a few gold pieces. “There we go, hey! Why don’t I introduce you to by friend over here and get you some bread to help soak up some of that ale?”

“I don’t need any soakin’, I already bathed today.” Jimin said pointedly, completely missing what Jungkook actually said.

“Of course you did.” Jungkook lead him towards an empty seat next to himself and Taehyung.

Taehyung briefly looked up from his meal, back down, and then did a double take. “Jiminie?!”

Jimin’s previously half-closed eyes shot wide open. “Taehyung!”

Jungkook looked wide eyed between the man and mer. These weird-arse people knew each other?! Why in Tamriel was he even surprised…

“What’ve you been up to, -hic!- skeever-butt?” Jimin pulled Taehyung into a sloppy arm hold.

“Only dying from boredom up in Dragonsreach, troll bait!” Taehyung easily loosened himself and pulled Jimin into a solid hug. “Missed ya, you tiny drunkard.”

“Anyone care to tell me how you two know each other or am I going to third wheel all night?” Jungkook chuckled as he watched the scene play out.

Taehyung pulled back from Jimin and coughed, pink faced. “Whoops! Sorry my Thane. This is Jimin, the guy I ran away with when I was young. We grew up in Honorhall Orphanage under the tender love and care of Grelod the Kind.” He rolled his eyes. “What a bitch. She would beat anyone that even looked at her too long. Especially the little ones.”

“We- hic!- tried to help as much as we could, but it eventually grew to be too much.” Jimin looked like he was about to cry, his emotions all over the place. First he was happy to see his friend then he was holding back sobs. Must be an emotional drunk.

“Yeah, at some point every Riften urchin has two choices. One, grow up and join the Thieves Guild or two, run away and try to find a life for yourself.” Taehyung explained. The Thieves Guild… now where did Jungkook hear about them again…?

Jimin sniffled. “We chose the second. Came here to Whiterun once we scrounged up enough coin to take the carriage. Had nothing but ourselves and the clothes on our backs.”

“Must’ve been no older than 16.” Taehyung continued. “Had to beg for them to let us into the guard. In hindsight they must’ve been desperate for soldiers, cause they said yes.”

“We stayed as grunts for years, up until we had a uhhhh… slight accident and I got myself kicked out? Luckily I was an adult by then and could set myself up as a mercenary.” Jimin seemed hesitant to bring up this particular story, which was a shame because Jungkook desperately wanted to hear more.

Taehyung growled. “It wasn’t an accident, dummy. I fucked up and you took the blame. I got promoted because of it and the rest is stupid history.” Taehyung definitely looked upset having this brought up again angrily biting into his third chunk of bread. Whoops, subject change?

“Regardless, here you two are now! Taehyung’s free from the Jarl, and Jimin, I would love it if you would join us when we need an extra hand?” Jungkook hoped his positive attitude was enough to lighten the darkened atmosphere.

Taehyung swallowed and Jimin wiped his eyes on his embroidered sleeve. They looked at each other and couldn’t help but smile. “Aww, fuck it. That was years ago. I’m just glad I have you again.” Taehyung muttered, pulling Jimin into a firm hug.

It was times like these, witnessing friends show each other affection that made Jungkook crave that closeness too. Some day, Jungkook. Some day.

The rest of the afternoon was spent eating (okay that was mostly just Taehyung) and people watching as the rest of the city filled into the inn slash tavern. A particularly awful bard started singing which was when Jungkook decided it was about time to find himself a room for the night. That or rush over to Belathor’s shop before it closed to purchase a fur tent for him and Taehyung. Jimin retired to his own room, requiring Saadia’s help getting up the stairs without accident.

“Spend at least a night at the Bannered Mare,” Taehyung recommended. “You’ve got to try her breakfast pie!”

Giving in, Jungkook purchased a night at the inn for both him and Taehyung, alongside access to Hulda’s private bath. It felt like forever ago he was traipsing down the catacombs of ancient zombies when really it wasn’t even twenty four hours. Time to scrub off the grime and dust.

Taehyung said he bathed just the day before and would meet him up in their shared bedroom.

The bath was nice, he had picked up some lavender soap at the Riverwood Trader’s a few days ago that he finally put to good use, scrubbing off layers of gunk from his smooth tan skin.

Feeling like he was glowing, he crept up the Bannered Mare’s stairs and to the bedrooms. To his right he noticed a door was a jar, looking in he spotted where Saadia dumped Jimin. He was half on, half off his cot. His robes were still on and he was drooling. Not wanting to push a borderline stranger’s boundaries, Jungkook left his robes on and just rearranged him into a more comfortable position.

Sneaking out of the room, he closed the door.

To his left was another door, this one closed. Remembering it to be the one that Hulda showed to him when he purchased it’s use, he opened it.

Now, he fully expected Taehyung to be under the furs and asleep by the time he had gotten back from his bath and helping Jimin, but he wasn’t.

Taehyung was currently undressing himself from his leather armor, bow and quiver leaned up against the side of the bed. Tossing his chest piece and gauntlets to the side, he proceeded to strip himself of his shirt. Jungkook was then given front row seats to witness the damage Taehyung had done to himself during dinner.

The poor Bosmer was bloated beyond belief. How in Tamriel he could still be thinking about pie with a belly that stuffed was beyond him. It stuck out and hung down slightly onto his lap. Even more surprisingly, there were signs that this definitely wasn’t the first time this kind of feasting had happened.

His chest was distended, filled with excess fat. His areola wide and dark, with swollen nipples at their crest. His sides were rounded out and his puffy thighs were stuffed into his leggings like venison sausages. The boy was chubby, and Jungkook swallowed thickly at the sight.

Looking up, Taehyung startled at Jungkook’s presence. His chub jiggled a bit as he jumped. “Oh shit, you’re back.” Taehyung made no move to cover himself up. “Sorry, we can turn out the lanterns now. I was just finishing undressing.”

“O-Okay… I just uh-” Jungkook was at a loss of words.

Taehyung tilted his head before noticing where Jungkook’s gaze landed. “Oh. Well, I would get bored up in Dragonsreach, and I guess there was always plenty of food to try out. So I just got used to overeating. Now I have a little tummy.” He gave it a couple slaps.

Yeah, well that little tummy is going to be a medium sized tummy if you aren’t more careful. Jungkook thought.

“Oh, well. That’s fine. We can always work it off while traveling.” Jungkook didn’t know what else to say. At least, nothing appropriate for near strangers.

“Yeah…” Taehyung muttered before blowing out the lantern. “Work it off.”

Jungkook had very anti-“work it off” dreams that night.

#pudgeprojects #bts skyrim wg au #tw alcohol #tw drunk #tw drinking #canon typical drinking #aye I finished it!#there’s a pt. 2 coming that goes more into kink #so watch out for that #coming after this though will probably be the yoonkook one #Yoongi has a big belly in that one #yummy

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