thank you for checking out my blog! my name is jules, and i am a digital artist and writer who loves oc's. this blog is primarily about the elder scrolls, my main blog is @temple-jules. i am also willing to tag posts that may be triggering, please send an ask if i need to tag something that may be triggering, please include what you would like me to tag it as. i ask that if you are a terf or use gen ai to please not even bother following me. minors will also be blocked, this is for my own comfort as i tend to blog about adult themes and topics.
if you enjoy my work, please let me know! you can also find me on the following platforms:
bluesky | toyhouse | ao3 | instagram
most used tags //
#jules draws -- fanart!
#jules writes -- fanfiction!
#ashblind -- current series about my dragonborn, helon!
#quicksaving -- random ramblings
#ask to tag -- posts that may be triggering for some, but have not been tagged with a specific trigger
In the kindest way possible, I thought tesblr meant "tesla tumblr" and was very disillusioned at the possibility of that existing on this website. I'm sorry to inform you. Anyway, I'm a huge skyrim fan myself and feel the crushing weight of this just as much as you.
LMAO worry not anon tesla tumblr can't hurt you its not real
tesblr can't die because its been almost 15 years without a main game release and there's bitches (me is bitches) still drawing their favorite elder scrolls guy every damn day of the week like its a full time job
No art wips this week everything is still such a mess, but I've done some writing! (anything but main obviously) I've bounced around so many different writing wips this week.
Writing Brynjolf getting injured got me spiraling first thing in the morning, (The best way to spend my days off for real) so I shall present you my wip of @tes-season-unending-fest first prompt about recovery. Shiala is having a healthy amounts of mental breakdown, as Brynjolf decided to disappear for couple of days without telling anyone where to. I can't wait to start making the art for this later!!
Words: 470ish
The next day arrives with a drag. Shiala sits at the Guild Master's desk sorting out the current loose jobs by the dates of their arrival. She darts each of them carefully, looking for any hints if he could have just picked one as a quick job by himself. None of them bring any clarity to her, however. Names of contracts and fences have all circled and marked in the order of priority with his simple system of numbers and shadowmarks, at first glance there's nothing out of the ordinary that catches her eye.
Only difference being that one of them had been crossed and corrected more than once.
Niranye, the fence of Windhelm. Someone that the city had been ridiculing for the longest time under a suspect for being an agent of Thalmor. Obviously, she wasn't, as far as Shiala was aware, Niranye despised them as much as they did. Time and time again she had gotten into problems with Summerset Shadows and them still attempting to gain footing, not in just Windhelm but other parts of Skyrim, too.
She feels a knot in her stomach forming. Brynjolf couldn't possibly be that stupid and go anywhere near Eastmarch by himself. The Jarl knows they are.. acquainted and his previous rustling of feathers had earned him a bounty on his head. Not to mention the amount of Thalmor that must have circled around the outskirts like vultures.
The wrong people among Skyrim have started to get intel she tried so dearly to protect — the people she holds dear. And the ones against her, or trying to get her to fight on their side, or even turn herself in—
She takes a moment for herself to breathe. Is she looking too much into this?
No. She isn't. Something must be wrong. She's waited long enough without him leaving a good reason and it's driving her more crazy she dares to admit.
"Hey, boss?" She hears the voice of Cynric behind, causing her to visibly jump on her chair.
"I'm not your boss, Cynric." She wants to snap at him harder calling her that. "Do you know anything about this?" She lands the piece of paper to him without looking at his direction. "I'm trying to trace where in Oblivion has Brynjolf gone before I begin to drop some heads."
"I mean.." he grimaces while digesting her threats, "You might want to see this."
Shiala's shoulders tense along her deep exhale. "I don't have the time to—"
She hears another pair of steps behind, and her words fade. The rhythm is light, but one-sided. Her body freezes in place.
"Missed me, lass?" Brynjolf stumbles in holding his rib and a day-old blood on his face. His chuckle followed by a sharp breath, he leans onto a stony wall, letting himself slowly drag and collapse on his knees.
(My normal TES blog is @rambles-about-some-scrolls )
Welcome to Myths of Tamriel!
A blog dedicated to sharing fan creativity, whether that being weekly prompts for drawing/writing or a question for the week for helping build an OC/headcanon.
You may share your OCs or headcanons at any time per asks or tagging me directly. I'm also open to helping with ideas for OC creation.
Under the cut are the explanations for the prompts, question of the week and other information-
Links to all prompts and all questions
Art prompts:
Prompts will be posted on Saturday at 2 pm EST, I will give two options and you may draw/write it. I encourage you to write alt text, if your post doesn't have it, I will try to add it by reblog.
I may add a little story, using Munuril the mascot of the blog, to give some ideas for the prompts
To participate you can:
Send an ask
Reblog the post with the prompts
Tag me directly in your post and/or tag your post with: [ #prompts of tamriel ]
There is no time limit for these, so you can make something for older prompts too.
Question of the week:
Unrelated to the prompts, I will ask more specific questions, which you can answer with how your OC does it or your headcanon surrounding it.
I will ask these questions on Tuesday at 2 pm EST
To participate you can:
Send an ask
Reblog the post with the question
Tag me directly in your post and/or tag your post with: [ #questions of tamriel ]
Other information:
There is no time limit for these, so you can answer older questions too.
Summoning days:
I had a poll on what I should do with these, but I think it was a draw (I also voted just to see the results and that messed it up). So I will make a post a week before the summoning day. These days are all around a daedric prince, you can share your works/art/ocs anything that relates to that prince and their sphere.
The announcement will be one week before the day, both posts will be posted at 2 pm EST
To participate you can:
Send an ask
Reblog the summoning day post
Tag me directly in your post and/or tag your post with: [ #summonings of tamriel ]
English isn't my native language. Mistakes may happen.
If I ever get something wrong, either language wise or lore wise, feel free to correct me!
For asks related to headcanons/OCs or lore, I will use the tag: [ #myths of tamriel ]
For personal thoughts unrelated to TES, I will use: [ #thoughts of some scrolls ]
Bro your Bryn/Mercer hits like crack at times and I can't but think what if Mercer would put Brynjolf in his place (because Brynjolf is such a fkin brat at times I swear)
aaa thank you!!! i love these horrible men together<3
nsfw - explicit sexual content. minors should not read or interact with this post in any way.
Mercer getting sick of Brynjolf pushing him around. Fed up with teasing comments and a hand brushing his in passing. The touch that always happens to land at his hip when moving past as if he's daring someone to notice. Too fucking tense to keep a handle on his temper any longer.
"Hey -"
"If you call me an old man one more fucking time you'll be Maven's errand boy 'til you're in the grave."
Finally, Brynjolf pauses. Mercer's egged on by the sight of that cocky fucking grin faltering. Brynjolf leans into the doorway and blinks, clearly off kilter. Mercer's high on this dominance and grips the front of his second in command's armor.
"Did you forget who employs you?" Mercer seethes, so close to Bryn that their noses touch. It's difficult to not be distracted by the familiar scent of his cologne.
"Just because I let you fuck me doesn't mean anything." God, the flustered way Brynjolf's lips part is too good. "I'm in charge."
"Yessir." That fucking smirk. Mercer's temper flares and he wrenches Brynjolf closer, dragging him to his knees. It's infuriating that he doesn't fight back, just lets Mercer manhandle him.
"I can stop this whenever I want." Mercer's lying through his fucking teeth but Brynjolf is clearly shocked. "I don't need you."
"Don't ya?" Brynjolf pushes back as if he's not kneeling for his Guild Master.
Mercer bites his tongue, choosing to glower down at Brynjolf instead. His face is flushed bright red and there's a hint of fear in his expression. Good, Mercer thinks. Let him worry.
"Sorry." Brynjolf's voice is softer than expected. His large hand wraps almost lovingly around Mercer's thigh, tugging him in a bid for more contact.
He didn't want to piss Mercer off. Not really. Bryn likes teasing him. He enjoys the way he can get under Mercer's skin and leave him a blabbering mess. It's cute when Mercer tries to glare at him despite his body twisting to remain close.
"Just-" Mercer huffs, anger deflating at the way Bryn leans into his touch. "Just knock if off in front of the others."
"Yes sir." Fuck, Brynjolf's called him that hundreds of times - it should not be hot. A brazen hand creeps up Mercer's leg and Brynjolf knows he's won. Mercer doesn't bat him away, he lets Bryn's nimble fingers tug at the fastening of his pants.
"Still mad?" He mumbles, deeply enamored with the trail of hair on Mercer's lower stomach.
"Yes." Mercer lies, trying to remain composed when Brynjolf's mouth lands on his hip.
Early wip for me as well this week, I'm gonna be away for next couple of days because work is ass
That being said I sure hope I'll have time to finish this...
Peek on my Tes Gala-piece, it's been a slow progress. Might sacrifice the background I had planned if I run out of time, but oh well I can only blame myself for procrastinating so long lmao. Idk why Bryn look so grumpy
Only writing I've done this week is a piece of Brynjolf/Mercer groping at each other but I think I'll save you all from that haha :P
Question of the week: What do they do in their freetime?
I asked about Jobs, now I ask what they're up to in their freetime. Lots of things they can do like drawing dogs, meeting distant relatives, helping out the community or praying in a chapel. Do they carefully plan out their day or go with what they feel like doing? Anything they wish to do, but don't have the time to or can't do? Are there things they tend to do often and what about the things they do maybe once a year?
If they only work, do they get to have small breaks and how do they use those? If they really like working and don't do anything else really, did they think about doing anything besides that?
To participate you can:
Send an ask
Reblog this post
Tag me in your post directly and/or tag your post with: [ #questions of tamriel ]
Thanks for the tag last week @skyrimhusbandmaterial @chiqita @neloths-tea @theoneandonlysemla @silly-little-diary @nerevarbean @heavy-metal-dick @theflowergrrl @honeybeebunny111 @sugarysins (tagging you right back!) and today @sulphuricgrin ♡
Quite exited to share the usual flavour of wips this week, so happy how the dagger turned out! Battling the shading of his face so, you'll get to see it later c:
And fitting for the picture, on the next chapter the dagger in question gets mentioned first time after some.. confrontation.
Words : 465
Brynjolf's flustered face gives away his surprised look. This wasn't the response he was expecting, yet he couldn't keep a smile out of his lips. He sees the swirling Fear in her hand, her efforts to intimidate him gives him a reason to chuckle. "You are feisty. I like that."
Shiala’s hold on Brynjolf’s collar tightens. “What's up with the amulet?"
He fixes up his composure just enough to free his dominant hand from the wall, as much as Shiala’s force on his collar holds. “Just something to keep people talking. Yet somehow, you resisted.” The air becomes tense, the walls of the room close in around them. Her eyes are deep pools or violet abyss, the longer he looks, the more lost he feels.
“Mm. Lucky me.”
“Counter-question. What’s the story with the armour?” His head flicks towards the chair, where the Ebony Mail lays against its back. “Vex said it tried to poison her.”
Trying to think anything else but a truth about the armor’s origin seems pointless, her nerves rattle under his drunken, darting eyes that won’t leave hers alone. His attempts to manipulate her emotions irritates her to the core — that’s what she is supposed to do. She can never let that happen again, how did she not sense that?
As infuriating his effort to manipulate her was, she stands impressed. “ It belonged to Boethia’s Champion. Great warrior with a weak will. Oh, I enjoyed ripping it out of his corpse. His spine made a great scarecrow. ”
Brynjolf’s eye twitches over her cold honesty. The words come so naturally from her, if she spoke the truth, she could be actually dangerous. And yet, he cannot stop himself from probing for more. “You’re lying. You nearly got killed by a punch of vampires.”
The audacity of him, Shiala’s teeth grit out of annoyance. Her hold of his collar loosens, as the glowy, violet hue emanates from her hand. A conjured dagger emerges from thin air, and as quickly as it appears, she lifts it against Brynjolf’s neck. “Try me. I know how to gut you in pieces in ways you can’t even imagine.”
He doesn’t even budge. Instead, his lips curve into a one-sided, mischievous smile. Her shift on her temper has left her blind — her breath hitches when his own, cold-enchanted dagger presses against her collar. “Hmh. Don’t tempt me with a good time, lass.”
Her breath holds her still. She had let him rile her up and found herself bested by his stupid words. In the corner of her eye she notices the blue, familiar shine. “Is that.. stalhrim?”
Though surprised, another smirk tugs on Brynjolf's lips, knowing his blade got her attention. “See? I knew you had an eye for treasure.” His eyes gleam with lasting amusement over her.
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Tagging @friend-of-giants @hircines-hunter @dirty-bosmer @blue-dartwing @dark-brotherhoe @ashblind @oblivions-dawn @umbracirrus @flycasual and you!! ♡ my head is made out of cardboard so forgive me if if I forgot to tag anyone x.x
Got some art and writing today…. I adopted a cute little wolf creature based off shag hickory tree. Plan to add it as a pet to my Coven. Still trying to find a good way to draw it tho.
Chapter 9 preview (537 words)
"We should make a visit." Aela crossed her arms over her chest. "See what's going on."
"I agree." Skjor closed his eyes. He opened them and stared at his shaking hand. "Since they are looking for you by name…." He looked at Sifkni, who looked away.
"It could be a trap." Vilkas clicked his tongue.
"I don't know if it's a trap, but I think we should get more information before we visit." Ainare messed with her fringe. Her eyes crossed as she looked at the dead ends.
"Who ever they are, they'll know us, the Circle. It wouldn't be easy to just show up at that inn and look for information." Vilkas continued. "Not about them."
"Especially when they are looking for Sif by name." Farkas continued. He placed his hands on his hips.
Skjor and Aela both sighed loudly, accepting the explanation. Skjor spoke. "Regardless, we could send someone that direction for a job. They could stop by and see what's going on there. Not to snoop or ask questions. Just get a look. See if there is any interest."
"It wouldn't hurt to send someone that direction." Aela added.
Sifkni rubbed her temples. She closed her eyes and leaned against the cool, stone wall. She looked up at the natural ceiling as the Circle continued to argue.
Farkas leaned over. "You listening?" He whispered against her cheek.
"Barely." Sifkni whispered. She looked at the others when the silence stretched. "Waiting for my input?"
"You are Harbinger." Aela rolled her eyes.
Sifkni mimicked her. "Look. I am curious as well. And Vilkas is correct. They know us. They know me." She paused. "There are jobs that direction. But, we need to be cautious. They may be looking for me, but they haven't made a move against Jorrvaskr or Whiterun." She groaned as a thought popped into her head. "We also are assuming that this group is the same one that attacked the Wolfsingers."
Farkas rubbed his chin. "The clan is near Old Hroldan…. It's close enough. To stage an attack and recruit others."
"Do you think they're holed up somewhere? In a ruin?" Ainare wondered aloud.
"Perhaps. There are numerous ruins. Temples. Caves. The valleys and cliffs of the Reach are full of danger. Between the geography and the things that live there." Sifkni closed her eyes. "I think we should wait. Bade our time. We've got a mead hall and people here to take care of."
"Give me the job in the Reach." Skjor waved as he left the Underforge.
Aela followed after him and grumbled. "I'm joining you then. It'll be like old times." She said as she slapped Skjor's back.
Sifkni pulled her knees to her chest and leaned on them. She closed her eyes. A loud exasperated sigh left her lips. She moved slightly when Farkas put his hand on her shoulder.
"Do you want to stop them?"
"And what?"
Farkas frowned and shrugged. "I'm not sure. They should know how you feel…. After Kodlak…. After your pack."
"And they are after vengeance." Sifkni shook her head. "No. I don't know."
Farkas helped Sifkni to her feet. He ran his fingers through her hair and brushed it away from her face.
No pressure or Obligations Tagging: @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @neloths-tea @honeybeebunny111 @theflowergrrl @oblivions-dawn @thequeenofthewinter @theoneandonlysemla @elfsnow @juliette-has-a-pencil @yewphoric @skyrimhusbandmaterial @chiqita @madamefluffnstuff @saltymaplesyrup @knifecalledlust @dark-brotherhoe @illumiera @intyaliel @loviecrafter @flycasual @temple-jules @the-radic0le @stormbeyondreality and you!! Feel free to tag me!
