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Pictured: The exact moment Dagon realized he may have miscalculated on his plan to invade Tamriel.

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Land of Ash and Heart x Mamma Mia Songs for No Reason

Hello. My Solstheim fic has quite a bit in common with Mamma Mia 2 (dual timelines, set on island, extremely good) so here is which song from both movies to listen to for each chapter. i know you don't care. i'm going to post this anyway.

Falkreath, The Present: Why Did It Have to Be Me?

Fort Frostmoth, The Past: Money, Money, Money

Raven Rock, The Present: Our Last Summer

Fort Frostmoth, The Past (2): Super Trouper

Tel Mithryn, The Present: The Day Before You Came

Thirsk Mead Hall, The Past: Dancing Queen

Central Solstheim, The Present: Does Your Mother Know

Skaal Village, The Past: SOS

Skaal Village, The Present: I Wonder

Skaal Village, The Past (2): I Have a Dream

The All-Maker Stones, Past and Present: Slipping Through My Fingers

Eastern Solstheim, The Present: Take a Chance On Me

Lake Fjalding, The Past: Fernando

Raven Rock, The Present: One of Us

Thirsk Mead Hall, The Past (2): Waterloo

Tel Mithryn, The Present (2): Knowing Me, Knowing You

Castle Karstaag, The Past: Voulez-Vous

Raven Rock, The Present: The Winner Takes It All

Mortag Glacier, The Past: The Name of the Game

Apocrypha, The Present: When All is Said and Done

All Over Solstheim, The Past: Andante, Andante

Skaal Village, The Present (2): Lay All Your Love On Me

Raven Rock, The Past: My Love, My Life

Lakeview Manor, The Future: I've Been Waiting for You

Aetherius, [Redacted]: Mamma Mia

#my writing #look i don't know why i made this either just roll with it #this is based less on plot happenings and more on vibe

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I think you should draw..... a little man. A guy if you will. You can decide which Guy.

He knows many things :]

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will you join him?//2017

13/16

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Casual Dunmer Chair

In-game asset for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Dragonborn DLC

Modeling and texturing by Jason Muck

#ur not mid king this is a beautiful rant

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First era Cyrod

An Alessia based off the apparition in the part 1 of the remanada ,and slightly changed reman’s armor to give off more jerall mountaineer vibe. dragonborns manifesting dragonlike pupils is the hc i will never let go of

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People liking your personal OCs is still such a crazy feeling, I've been doing this for years and ppl asking about them still fills my entire heart with warmth and idk how to handle it

You enjoy this fictional guy I made up for fun?? Whose only content is random artwork or writing made by me and a handful of other artists at most? They have no show/book/game with a large fandom, it's just one person with an art blog?? I love u

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Restoration magic has powerful spells that allow you to absorb beef directly from an enemy's inventory or stomach.

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an Oblivion fic in which I attempt to justify my HoK's terrible life choices

"Everyone is highly disappointed in you, Crusader."

The Prophet's tone was more pitying than disapproving, and Sacha had the sudden urge to slap him. "Believe me, I know," she replied, keeping her voice neutral. "It's all people talk about when they meet me. 'Oh Sacha, we thought you were a holy warrior, but it turns out you're as awful as anyone!' I'd like to know what makes my moral compass their business."

"Can you blame them for being confused?" the Prophet demanded. "You faithfully served the gods, helped defeat Mehrunes Dagon, assembled the Crusader's Relics... and suddenly you turn your back on your holy order of knights to become a petty criminal. What are we meant to make of that?"

"What good are the Crusader's Relics to me?" Sacha shot back. "Oh, they were helpful in getting rid of Umaril, but none of this went the way I hoped. I couldn't..." She bit off the end of her sentence. "Never mind."

"Couldn't what, Sacha?" the Prophet asked, his voice more gentle now.

Sacha looked down at her feet, feeling about ten years old. "I couldn't bring Martin back," she said quietly. "I thought if I had the armor, if I had the gods' favor, I could summon his spirit back from the other world. But it didn't work."

"We all mourn Martin, sister..."

"You didn't know Martin," Sacha interrupted. "Not as a person. He was my best friend, my brother, and I failed him. I couldn't protect him, I couldn't protect my sister Falura, I couldn't do anything. In the end, what does it matter if I'm a hero or a thief? It makes no difference to those I've lost."

The Prophet shook his head. "And the countless lives you've saved? Do they mean nothing?"

"Not nothing, and yet not enough, either." Sacha sighed. "I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

"There is hope for you yet, Sacha Llervu," said the Prophet. "But beware. If your actions do not change, I predict for you a path of madness and chaos, far beyond the world of what is good and just."

Sacha refrained from saying what was on her mind: that at this point in her life, chaos and madness sounded fairly suitable.

#hey remember this

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special edition!

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Oblivion has the weirdest aesthetic choices going on. Everything is super bright and saturated, the characters look silly and almost bordering on cartoonish, and the voice acting and delivery tends to be pretty silly. The whole things has such a strong classic fantasy vibe compared to the other tes games, but also there's a bunch of realistic gore and rotting corpses and really dark questlines with gross visuals (for the quality of those visuals). it's such a weird game.

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That moment of panic when you can't feel one of these five things in your pocket

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yet another fic cover, this time of my Solstheim tale with dual timelines. always something on this fucking island.

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haven't heard anyone talk about this before but,, one theory I have is that the leaders of every dark brotherhood sanctuary are always women, or at least preferably women. I only say this cuz so far all the canon sanctuary leaders (ocheeva, astird, astara) have been women and called 'matron' as their official title. I like to think of it as a way of reflecting the night mother, especially with sanctuaries being treated as their own family units a lot of the time

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Man is Not Made for Defeat (An Oblivion Short)

Hello, my dumplings. Recently I've been replaying Oblivion and realized that I've never properly written any Oblivion-specific fanfic, except like one very short thing from last year. Anyway, here's a wee thing featuring my trashy lesbian HoK Sacha, and her soon-to-be adopted son Ben, the Adoring Fan. (In the Sylvieverse he's named Ben. Don't worry about it)

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“By Azura, ma’am, this is such an honor!”

Sacha Llervu–known variously as the Hero of Kvatch, Iron Maiden of the Arena, and “that’s her, officer”–glanced up from her bloodstained sword in annoyance. She was slumped on a bench in the Arena District park, trying to will her exhausted limbs to carry her to the nearest pub, and wasn’t precisely in the mood for conversation. Especially not with a twig of a Bosmer boy with a daft spike of yellow hair, gazing at her like she was Saint Veloth.

“What do you want?” The question came out wearily, not as the growl she’d intended, and the boy didn’t appear cowed.

“Well, Iron Maiden, ma’am, you’re the Grand Champion now,” he said, as though she hadn’t noticed. “A celebrity. You’ll be wanting an assistant now, of course–someone to carry your bags, shine your shoes, keep away troublemakers. You needn’t pay me, or anything, it would be an honor to work for you…”

“No,” Sacha interrupted. The boy’s lower lip wobbled, and she sighed. “Look, you seem like a good kid. Stay away from me, I’m no champion.” Her eyes, humiliatingly, felt damp. She hadn’t cried when she’d been tossed in prison or seen the Emperor killed three feet in front of her, but now the tears came?

“Ma’am? Is something wrong?”

“I killed a good man today,” she said thickly. “And I didn’t do it honorably. Honestly, I killed him the day I showed him that bloody diary–the Agronak I took down today was just a shell.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “I knew something was off. His reflexes seemed slower than usual, and he barely lifted his shield–it was like he wanted you to win.”

“That’s about the size of it,” Sacha agreed. “He hired me to find information on his father, a while back, and I found out dear old Dad was a vampire. Agronak wanted the truth, so I told him, and you could say it shook him.” That was an understatement. She’d never forget how Agronak’s blunt, cheerful features had gone ashen at the contents of his father’s diary. Being half-vampire didn’t seem like such a tragedy to Sacha, but for someone who’d built his identity around some idea of lost nobility, maybe it could be.

“You gave him a noble death, ma’am,” the boy said quietly. “Mister Agronak’s old mum dropped by once, you know, and told me a bit about life in the strongholds. Apparently some of the elderly Orc folk go out into the wilderness in search of a good death in battle. Maybe the Gray Prince’s defeat isn’t what you wanted, but it’s what he wanted.”

Sacha looked up in surprise. She wouldn’t have expected a youngster with such a ridiculous hairstyle to be so wise. “What’s your name, lad?”

“Ben…ah, Benethir,” the boy stammered. “You can call me Ben, of course, or anything you want really.”

“Ben will do. How old are you? Got family in town?” Somehow she knew his second answer would be no. If there was anyone to look after the lad, he’d probably be in school, not spending all day watching idiots hack each other to pieces.

“Seventeen-ish, I think.” Ben cast her an anxious look, as though worried this would be too young for Sacha’s approval. “My parents died a few years ago, so I’ve been on my own–I mean, independent ever since.”

Annoyingly, Sacha felt her heart soften a bit. She’d been this kid, twenty-odd years ago; a scared urchin fleeing that horrendous Indoril plantation. Within a few years she’d been running scams in every backwater Deshaan village, before the Legion had finally tossed her in prison. Her strength and stubbornness had kept her alive in that pit, but a pup like this Ben wouldn’t last a month.

She’d never been one for charity or hangers-on, but perhaps it was time to make an exception.

“Right.” She stood, brushing off her trousers. “You good at hauling luggage and sweeping and that sort of thing?”

Ben’s eyes lit up. “I certainly can be, ma’am.”

“Smashing. I’ve got a house in Anvil that I frequently need to leave on missions that are none of your business, and it needs looking after while I’m away. Don’t worry, you’ll still have time to waste at the Arena, and a bit of pocket-money as well.” Sacha held out one hand, and the awed boy shook it. “Don’t make me regret this, kid.”

As Ben sputtered in gratitude, Sacha rolled her eyes, already picturing what Marty would say when she told him. Something like I always knew you’d be the maternal type, deep down. Smug bastard. 

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when canon gives you an underdeveloped character and you just have to make do: