Alessandre Moorhart @alessandre-moorhart - Tumblr Blog

I really need to change the way this blog looks lmao

I personally choose to believe that while regular vampires have the orange eyes, the Daughters of Coldharbour have glowy blue ones, kinda like the vampire eyes from the Underworld series,

It just seems kinda odd to me that the Most Powerful Vampire Matriarchs ™️ would have the same basic eyes as every other vampire out there, y'know?

#skyrim #the elder scrolls #tes #elder scrolls #tes v skyrim #tes v #eso #tesblr #Serana #Valerica #Serana Volkihar #Valerica Volkihar #Vampires #vampire #skyrim vampire #skyrim headcanon #headcanon

dragon-in-a-fez

incredible things going on in this bathroom

#skyrim #the elder scrolls #tes #elder scrolls #tes v skyrim #tes v #eso #OC: Alessandre Moorhart

kabouter-anarchy

Aela the huntress fanart :)))) 🐺

(Main reference credits to Stella Papazova)

alessandre-moorhart

Behold: The most beautiful woman in Whiterun

Next to Lydia, of course. They share the title on alternating weekends and Wednesdays.

#aela the huntress #tes art #tes #tes fanart #skyrim fanart #skyrim #the elder scrolls #the elder scolls skyrim #the elder scrolls fanart #the companions

galleryofalexandria

My cousin’s out fighting dragons, and what do I get? Guard duty.

Cosplay by: @calvinandhobbit

Photography by me

#cosplay #whiterun guard #skyrim #skyrim cosplay

shapelytimber

He's been waiting for you, Nerevarine

[COMMISSIONS] - [PRINT]

I saw a lot of people in the fandom drawing pinups and that seemed fun :D ! Am I on time ? No. Is this Oblivion themed ? Neither- but it's the closest to the official Dagoth Ur design I've ever gotten and that must count for something jfjfkf

Process below vvv

ramblaac

"I asked ChatGPT" well I asked M'aiq and he knows much, tells some. M'aiq knows many things others do not

halondrus

women keep coming up to me giggling and blushing and running their finger along the edge of my mighty greatsword like STOP theres literally evil afoot

#the elder scrolls #skyrim #tes #tesblr #elder scrolls #tes v skyrim #tes v #eso

obsidian-dovahkiin

Hearthside Heroes (Closed TES RP)

It was a frigid and lonely night. The icy winds blew harshly, leaving the cobbled streets empty. It was the kind of cold that would reach into people's bones, where each step becomes a prayer for a torchlit doorway. They almost feel the warmth of the fire inside in their daydreams. Letting that feeling become legitimate in their mind, rather than the freezing reality as they dismally trudge forward. Not even the animals seemed to stir from their homes, equally aware of the unappealing winds outside. A cold night usually gives people a reason to draw closer to one another, to feel the natural warmth mortals are born to give. Sitting comfortably, cosy in front of a fire. Perhaps with a warm drink, to warm them from the inside. Obsidian was not amongst them.

Though she hailed from the sun-scorched Ashlands of Vvardenfell, the biting chill of Skyrim no longer fazed her. The first years spent in this frigid land had been a daunting test, with ice-laden winds gnawing at her skin like a persistent, unwanted companion. Her responsibilities as the Dragonborn left little room for respite, but necessity forged resilience. In her quest to adapt, she learned to endure the numbing embrace of the cold by plunging herself into the invigorating waters of Lake Illinalta. Each frigid dip hardened her spirit and fortified her body against the relentless winter.

This resilience played a pivotal role in her ultimate decision to claim this rugged land as her forever home. Lakeview Manor, nestled conveniently close to the lake, stood in quiet harmony with its surroundings, a refuge against the elements. As she turned her gaze towards the estate, the flickering glow of candlelight leaked from the windows, casting warm, golden hues that danced across the encroaching darkness. Beyond, her garden swayed gently, a colorful tapestry woven from vibrant leaves and delicate petals, rustling softly in the crisp breeze as if whispering secrets to the night.

On the grassy embankment, her leather-bound journal rested open, its pages fluttering gently in the breeze. Beside it sat a bottle of Sparkling Honeydew wine, a thoughtful gift from her adoptive father Vorcano, its shimmering label catching the moonlight. Neatly folded next to the journal and wine were her clothes, each piece carefully arranged as if awaiting her return. The scene was a quiet reflection of her life, a blend of cherished memories and the simplicity of a moment spent in solitude. These moments were becoming increasingly more common. It had been four years since Obsidian had battled with Alduin, putting the World Eater to rest. So many memories, warm and full played through her mind. She would never forget the feeling of arriving in Whiterun for the first time. Never forget the first time she met her future companion Serana. Never forget her celebrated return home after defeating Alduin. Never forget meeting the Unbound Dremora who would go on to be her partner. Never forget when she and Lydia woke up in a haybale after a long night at the Bannered Mare. Never forget how proud she felt to hear Hermaeus Mora name her as his champion. So many memories.

The one on her mind presently was that of her husband Alessandre. The half-giant spectacle that he was. She remembered a time she had business to attend to in Whiterun. While dashing around the city, she noticed Alessandre was surrounded by a group of children sitting at his feet. They were fascinated with the stories he was proclaiming, each bombarding him with questions. Obsidian was uncertain if her husband had even noticed her presence. Though the sight of him in that moment burned into her memory. The thought of children was something that used to annoy Obsidian. She was far too busy to start a family, and there was no way she would raise a child in the war-torn lands of Skyrim. However, she didn't dare to leave her life behind and return to her tribe to have a child. Even if she chose this, what use would it be? Her duty as Dragonborn and Daedrologist would continuously get in her way. Although that memory…. it repeated in her head over and over to the point of near insanity. The way he smiled at them, the way they looked at him. How safe they all felt around a man who should theoretically send them scarpering.

Obsidian sighed, leaning her head back against the grassy bank as she opened her eyes to the stars and the moons, Masser and Secunda. From a young age, she had desired more than the mundane life of an Ashlander. She had accomplished numerous great feats and achieved everything her heart desired. She was a sung hero, an asset to the study of Daedrology and a local hero of the province. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was still more waiting for her out there.

But what?

alessandre-moorhart

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a Nord in a past life."

His voice seemed to split the winds apart so as to ensure his words would be heard. He could not shout with the voice of the Dov, but sometimes she swore that he might have been. There was no dragon's blood coursing through his veins, only the blood of giants, of old Nord warrior lineage and Breton nobility.

And yet he hardly remembered his time as a boy, living in their family castle in Glenumbra. He remembered the sweets that the kitchen servants snuck him, he remembered the smell of lavenders in the summer breeze, the scent wafting in through the window.

Everything there had always felt too... warm. And when he'd finally found his way to Skyrim as an adult, for the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged. The air was cool and crisp, and every breeze was a new scent, whether it be snowberries or bears. And this breeze was no different, save but one thing, the scent the air was sending his way was her, a scent so intoxicating he could not help but be drawn to it.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

obsidian-dovahkiin

Obsidian jumped silently, the motion creating ripples in the still water. She quickly turned to face the voice, her fingers poised to cast a fireball spell at the intruder.

"Oh…hello my love. I was expecting you to still be asleep. What woke you up at this hour?" She asked him, while she gestured to the spot beside her in the water.

As she gazed up at him, she admired the luxurious bedclothes draping over him, nodding in approval. The exquisite fabric had been a thoughtful gift from one of Obsidian's closest friends, a talented Skaafin named Moraz. Renowned for his remarkable seamstress skills, Moraz had crafted many of the garments that filled Obsidian's wardrobe with elegance and flair.

Lost in thought, she recalled a spirited disagreement from many moons ago between Alessandre and Moraz. Alessandre had clung stubbornly to his threadbare nightclothes, insisting they were still perfectly adequate for wear. Yet, with their frayed edges and seams ready to give way, it was clear to her that those old rags were more a testament to stubbornness than comfort. Moraz was insulted and called upon an eight-legged friend to change his mind. Alessandre of course, begrudgingly agreed so long as the Skaafin removed the large and unwelcome intruder.

The new outfit was nothing short of exquisite. The nightclothes were made from a sumptuous fabric, draping elegantly, featuring a striking black and gold colour scheme that exuded an air of sophistication and luxury. Unlike the usual styles worn by Nords, this ensemble complemented his figure perfectly, enhancing his unique charm. Moraz, with his trained eye for fashion, had carefully selected this remarkable combination, showcasing his talent for recognizing unparalleled beauty in clothing.

She turned away, allowing him some privacy as he began to remove his clothing, her gaze drifting across the shimmering surface of the lake before her. The moonlight cast a silver glow on the water, creating a delicate dance of light that reflected the vibrant colours of the surrounding landscape. A gentle breeze brushed against her skin, carrying with it the fresh scent of pine and the sweet fragrance of wildflowers blooming nearby.

At that moment, she felt a swell of pride for her choice of home. Obsidian had journeyed through many remarkable places across Tamriel and Oblivion—from the towering, icy peaks of Skyrim to the smouldering volcanoes and arid expanses of Vvardenfell, and the lush, warm tundra of Cyrodiil. She had wandered through the enigmatic Daedric realms like Apocrypha and The Myriad Realms, uncovering the mysteries of countless captivating locations in between.

Yet, standing here, surrounded by the serene beauty of nature, nothing could compare to this sanctuary—her favourite place in all of Skyrim. Here, tranquillity enveloped her like a warm embrace, making it undeniably her true home.

But without Alessandre, her heart would feel a gaping void. He was her everything—the anchor in her tumultuous world. He was the singular soul who grasped the intricacies of her thoughts and the depths of her motives. While she wore a carefully crafted mask for the countless citizens of Skyrim who depended on her, he could see beyond that facade. He had witnessed her vulnerabilities—her tears that fell in moments of weakness, the fire of her anger when injustices surrounded her, and the weight of her past mistakes that loomed like shadows. Yet, despite all these imperfections, he chose to devote himself to her unwaveringly. His loyalty was a beacon of light in her darkest hours, reminding her that she was seen, accepted, and loved for who she truly was.

alessandre-moorhart

He let out a sharp hiss as the cold water touched his feet, the hissing continued until he was fully submerged and then seated next to her, finally letting out a sigh of relief. His hand wandered through the water towards her, first touching her thigh on accident - he'd grown accustomed to having to reach lower to touch normal folks' hands - before lifting it to find her hands.

Their hands interlocked, slipping together with ease, like pieces to a very rare puzzle, or a claw slipping into the keyhole of a draugr ruin. She was gazing out at the water, at the greenery beyond. Now that he was beside her instead of behind her, he could no longer smell her on the wind; Now, he smelled all of the natural scents that the borders of Whiterun and Falkreath had to offer;

He smelled mountain flowers, thistle, he smelled mangy wolves and frightened hares, and that distinct smell of Skyrim pines, pines to which no other region in the world could rival the scent of.

Most importantly, though, he smelled lavender on the air.

As she gazed out at the scenery, perhaps lost in silent contemplation about the beauty of Norn, or perhaps thinking of her studies, the only thing his eyes could focus on was her. The contour of her gray skin against the early morning light, the shape of her against the top of the water, but more than that.

He was hypnotized by her eyes, by how beautiful the blue hues of the water looked in the reflection of her amethyst eyes. The green markings on her face complimented her skin well, and although he still distrusted the daedra and dared not go anywhere near their magic again, he had to admit that Mora had picked a good place to leave his mark. It suited her features well, and the green glow of the markings made it easier to see her eyes.

"Simply couldn't sleep," he says, scooping up water in a single cupped hand and taking a sip, loose droplets trickling down into his beard, "Hefdet rolls around in his sleep. Serana keeps stealing the blankets. And you weren't there. A bed that big feels so much emptier without you, my lantern light."

obsidian-dovahkiin

Obsidian chuckled softly, playfully swirling her fingers through the crystal-clear water, feeling the icy tendrils wrap around them. The cold sent a shiver up her arm, contrasting sharply with the warm, familiar waters of Vvardenfell that she had grown up with. She often found herself sneaking away from her tribe under the cloak of night, the moon casting a silvery glow on the surface, guiding her to her serene escape. The freedom of gliding through the water filled her heart with joy, and she always made sure to return before dawn, eager to keep her secret from the others. Looking back, her mother must have known when her bedroll and hair were sopping wet. Maybe she did it to humour Obsidian. She wished she could find out.

"You should've been here when it was just me and Hefdet in a regular Nord-sized bed. We had to buy three of them and lay across them. Most days I would be rudely awakened by him pushing me off the bed, accidentally," she sighed contently.

"I'm so happy we can now have furniture created that is a little more, our size. Though my heart goes out to Serana," she giggled.

Obsidian glided over to Alessandre, her movements fluid and deliberate. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his warm chest, where she could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath beneath her. The steady thrum of his heartbeat resonated through her, a comforting rhythm that wrapped around her like a soft blanket. Closing her eyes, she allowed the world around them to dissolve, immersing herself in the intimacy. Each pulse felt like an unspoken promise, reassuring her of their connection, as she lost herself in the tranquil power of being so close to him.

"I've been thinking a lot recently…why are we still here? Why am I still here?"

alessandre-moorhart

"What do you mean, My Lavender?" He asks, wrapping his arm around her as she nuzzled into his chest, his other hand reaching up, fingers gliding through long, wet hair.

He had a vague notion of what she might've meant; The wrath of the world-eater had passed, and although he hadn't been there, he'd felt the world change, a prophecy undone, the Song of the Dragonborn had its mettle tested and had been found wanting, the world remained, but the son of Akatosh did not.

A lot's changed in the years since Alduin's death. After everything that she'd described about Apocrypha with Miraak, something in Obsidian's heart had changed. She wandered more, both in the spiritual world and the real one, she seemed... scared, though he wasn't entirely certain of what.

He did what he could, what anyone who loved someone going through something like that would do; He provided her with a safe space, a space to be loved, a space to be true to who she was. But even then, something was missing, he just... Wasn't sure what.

He leaned down, kissing the top of her head as he ran his fingers through her hair some more; He would let her approach the topic herself, if that was even the topic on her mind at all.

obsidian-dovahkiin

"Doesn’t it feel like life has become a bit stagnant? A few years ago, I was always on the move, traversing the vast landscapes of Skyrim, assisting a plethora of people in their quests and struggles. I helped villagers fend off marauding bandits, retrieved lost artefacts from treacherous dungeons, and even intervened in the conflicts between warring factions. My close encounters with Daedra, and all of the prophetic figures who stood to test me ensured that each day was filled with adventure, danger, and the thrill of making a difference. Now, I can’t help but long for that sense of purpose and excitement once more," Obsidian explained.

She gently traced the contours of the necklace that rested against her collarbone, her fingers gliding over the intricate design. The pendant, a deep crimson stone surrounded by delicate silver filigree, gleamed softly in the light. It was more than just a piece of jewellery; it was a cherished gift from her father, Vorcano, a figure who to most was cloaked in mystery and power. He had told her it was a special vampire good luck charm, imbued with protective magic and ancestral blessings to ensure her safety in a world filled with dangers both seen and unseen. The weight of the necklace was a comforting reminder of his love and the bond they shared, and she had made a vow to never take it off, feeling its presence as a shield against the shadows that lurked around her.

"Consider the other heroes of Tamriel. When their grand quests came to a close, they seemed to fade, slipping silently away from reality. Tales abound of their enigmatic disappearances, whispered through the ages, yet none bear the weight of verifiable truth. It’s as though they dissolved into Oblivion. This tantalizing possibility has been my beacon of hope, a flicker that has propelled me forward. My continued presence in this world must signify some unfinished purpose, a thread yet to be woven into the tapestry of fate," she went on, lifting her head off his chest to look him in the eyes.

"Yet, with each cycle of the sun, a growing tide of unease and confusion sweeps over me. I am content with my family life; the laughter and warmth of my loved ones, including you, provide a comfort that grounds me. My devotion to Hermaeus Mora and his enigmatic cult brings me a sense of belonging, as does my scholarly work at the hallowed halls of the Sudretch School of Daedrology and all other arcane abilities. Still, despite these abundant blessings, an insistent feeling lingers, a hollow sensation that whispers of something greater awaiting my discovery. It’s as if I stand at the edge of a vast chasm, yearning for guidance from the Aedra or Daedra, or even a wise sage, but I find myself adrift, an island of solitude amidst the swirling tide of uncertainty…" Her voice faded away, the weight of her thoughts heavy in the air as she stared pensively across the shimmering expanse of the lake, the gentle lapping of the water echoing her internal struggle.

alessandre-moorhart

"Obsidian, my love," he turns to face her, taking her chin in his hand and pulling her in for a kiss.

When they locked lips it was magnetic, electric, both had an impossible time pulling away, but eventually the spell was broken and they both inhaled sharply. The kiss was not meant to be reassurance, merely a reminder that she was here in the physical realm, in the waters of Lake Ilinalta with her husband.

"You have conquered dragons and daedra, my love, you have lived a life of glory, of triumph! Even the Old Nords of Sovngarde sing your praises, and they are not ones to sing about anyone that isn't one of them."

He leaned in, keeping his lips pressed against her forehead, inhaling her scent.

"You say that old legends fade out. But we still know the tales of old, the stories of great heroes, like the Nerevar or the Hero of Kvatch, or even local tales like Ysgramor and Talos. But there are two endings for heroes of old, to die a glorious death at the end of the tale... or to live their days in peace."

She had been living out her days in peace, but that wasn't entirely what she needed, and he knew that. She needed a higher purpose. Daedrology was her calling and he knew that, as much as he despised it, he accepted it because he accepted her with all of his heart. Though the thought did frighten him; they only had this time. He was fated for either Sovngarde or Coldharbour, depending on whether he could cure this curse that ailed him.

She, on the other hand, had sealed her fate as a girl. Apocrypha awaited her, the vast expanse of books and tomes and the inky seas on green horizons.

"Your tale is not over. We simply haven't found a chance to find new purpose. Come with me. I want to show you something." He pushes himself up, towering high above the water's surface, holding his hand out towards her.

obsidian-dovahkiin

Obsidian listened to him with rapt attention, attuned to the sensations that enveloped them. Warmth radiated from his presence, wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. The air was thick with the distinct smell of metal, a sharp, metallic tang that ignited her senses and hinted at a deeper connection between them.

"I know that we hold these heroes in our memories primarily for their remarkable deeds. Yet, I find myself wondering, who will take a moment to remember me for my kindness, the dedication I've poured into my studies, or the resilience of my spirit? Will my face linger in their minds? Will they recall the color of my skin, will they simply remember… me?" Obsidian's voice softened as she trailed off, extending her arms with a gentle stretch.

Once Alessandre completed her task, she gently placed her hand in his, tracing her fingers along the rough callouses that spoke of his hard work. He assisted her out of the water, carefully maneuvering her body off his own, their skin glistening with droplets. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a fire spell that enveloped them in warm flames, quickly drying them both as the air crackled with energy. Once they were dry, he helped her dress again, his fingers deftly fastening the fabric as they exchanged knowing glances.

"Okay my love, where are we going?"

alessandre-moorhart

He walked her back up towards Lakeview Manor, hand in hand.

The sun was crawling over the mountaintops, reflections shimmering against the water of Lake Ilinalta behind them making the entire place look like a painted canvas one might find hanging in a Jarl's palace, or maybe even adorning the walls of a noble home back in the Imperial City.

The bear cub that Alessandre had adopted all those years ago was fully grown now, and let out a small sound of acknowledgement as the two of them walked past. He had a salmon in his mouth, and was far more preoccupied with that than he was with them.

Alessandre, much like the cub, could only focus on her hand in his, their fingers interlocked as they walked. In spite of all the years that passed, the battles that she'd fought, the villains she'd slain, her hands remained as soft as silk. The horses resting in the stables paid them no mind, too busy sleeping, or too indifferent to care as the massive couple walked to the front door of their shared home.

"After you, My Lavender," he holds the door open for her, still hesitant to let go of her hand as she steps inside.

obsidian-dovahkiin

Obsidian tilted her head slightly in his direction, gently acknowledging his chivalrous nature. She could feel the warmth of the house enveloping her, a stark contrast to the biting cold she had grown accustomed to outside. As she stepped inside, the comforting heat wrapped around her like a soft blanket, easing her tense muscles and allowing her to release a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. She turned to her right, hanging her cloak on its hook.

Obsidian glided through the dimly lit hallway, her footsteps soft against the polished wooden floor. She paused just outside the heavy oak door, glancing back to ensure Alessandre had securely turned the key in the lock. He gestured at her to make her way without him. Satisfied, she continued her journey, moving gracefully into the dining area. The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting delicate patterns on the floor.

Her eyes fell on the table, which had been meticulously set for breakfast the night before. Each piece of china gleamed, arranged with care alongside polished silverware, and the fresh flowers in a vase added a touch of colour and scent to the room. It wouldn't be long before the other members of her household made their way towards this table, eagerly starting or finishing their day.

Here, she stood patiently, her heart fluttering slightly as she waited for Alessandre to catch up with her. The moments felt eternal as she gazed towards the entrance, her anticipation building. Finally, she saw him, his large frame filling the doorway, casting a shadow that swept across the floor. His broad shoulders and defined jawline were striking, accentuated by the soft light behind him. She couldn’t help but admire his strong, handsome features, the way his hair caught the light, and the confidence in his stance. She found herself mesmerised by his presence as he stepped into view.

"So, what do you want to show me, my love?"

alessandre-moorhart

Alessandre walks towards a smell desk by the entryway, he always dumped everything from his pockets onto this desk when he finally made it home, usually to sort through it the next day, though some days - like today - he'd forget to do so. He rummaged through scrolls and folded notes until he found the one he was looking for.

"Ah. Here." He walks back towards his wife, wrapping an arm around her as he undid the scroll.

"I told you a little about my past. Before Molag's cultists took me, I was the son of nobility in Glenumbra, but I lost contact with them and never really tried reaching out, I thought too much time had passed.

But I have an uncle, named Mordred, he's... like Vorcano. He's important to me. And he's here, in Skyrim....

I'd like to take you to meet him."

Family was important to him on both sides. In Glenumbra, surrounded by political intrigue, family was a powerful tool, a political weapon to be utilized when necessary. But the Nordic side of his family felt the opposite, family was blood, and blood was the thickest liquid on Nirn. Alessandre, whether by heritage or by life experiences, felt strongly with the Nordic side of his family.

Mordred had trained him. Mordred had been there the day he would born, and given his complexion would very likely still be there the day Alessandre died. He took care of the boy while his mother was playing politician and his father was playing wandering trader.

There was nobody more important to him.

And nothing more important than to have Obsidian be close to that side of his life.

#hearthside heroes #obsidian dovahkiin #skyrim #tes #tes rp #the elder scrolls #eso #hermaeus mora #skyrim rp #tesblr #Alessandre Moorhart

alessandre-moorhart

No, I didn't disappear from social media! I got arrested!

And then some old dude claiming to be the Emperor found a sewer tunnel in my prison cell! And handed me some necklace and roped me into his family drama! I just wanted to grill, for Shor's sake!

obsidian-dovahkiin

Can confirm, I had to pay his bail smh 😔🙏

alessandre-moorhart

Can you pay the Mythic Dawn to leave me alone :(

#Alessandre during the Oblivion Crisis would be hilarious #Imagine being a scamp crawling out of an oblivion gate and a nine foot tall mf wielding a greatsword like its a butterknife is there #I'd surrender tbh

sarahs-art-space

I painted the Imperial City from Oblivion Remastered.

As soon as we had the announcement I knew I had to paint something from it!

#cyrodiil #oblivion remastered #art #oblivion remastered fanart #tes4 #tes 4 #tes 4 oblivion #tes oblivion #tes #tes iv #tes iv: oblivion #tes iv oblivion #oblivion #tesiv

No, I didn't disappear from social media! I got arrested!

And then some old dude claiming to be the Emperor found a sewer tunnel in my prison cell! And handed me some necklace and roped me into his family drama! I just wanted to grill, for Shor's sake!