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skyrim’s BRYNJOLF Indie roleplay blog. Mun and muse are of age. Multi-verse, multi-ship, NSFW, and crossover friendly. Written by Alexis Mobile Navigation

[dolorousheart-deactivated202601]

[ofconsandcoin]

dolorousheart:

@thethievingbard - One of the loveliest Nords in Skyrim.

[bonekin]

Brynjolf in #22 for anonymous! 

(It was technically for a shady guild member, and I nearly did Mercer, but I’m doing Mercer in 98 for another anon and I’m just. So gay for Brynjolf.)

[rosewoodrumors]

First request done!

[ofconsandcoin]

//I’ve been neglecting my BrynBryn D:

[wnq-writers]

Your smell. Your skin. Your arms. Your kiss. That is the true definition of home.

thehumblehousewife (via wordsnquotes)

[ofconsandcoin]

Two Times Betrayed ||with thethievingbard||

[ofconsandcoin]

He squeezed her hands and the smile remained on his face. “Of course I do, lass.” The thought of adding ‘and I always have’ crossed his mind, but that hadn’t been the case in the past. The memory shamed him every time it came forward from the back of his mind, reminding him that he did not deserve this woman.

Forcing the memory back, he nods at her question. “Aye. I’m going to remain until everyone else has left,” he told her. “You don’t have to stay behind,” he forced himself to remind her. She knew she would though with her stubborn nature in such matters.

It pained him to see her upset; her face didn’t give way to much emotion, but he could hear it and see it in her mahogany eyes. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and promise everything would be all right, that this was only temporary, and they could return sometime later. But they didn’t have time. And he could never lie to her.

"Go pack up," he said softly. "I have my own belongings to gather, and I'd like to see everyone off. You can join me when you've finished, or I can come find you when it's time to leave."

He turned away, dragging his hands from hers and left to seek out Delvin. His thoughts mulled over possible locations they could seek asylum, but each town and city held the possibility of having bounties on his head if Maven spread word. He didn't like the idea of having to been constantly moving to have some semblance of safety, but it might have been their only option.

[lsleofskye]

My red world

[ofconsandcoin]

The Bedlam Job ||with thethievingbard||

[thethievingbard]

Admittedly, Madlen was finding it difficult to completely concentrate on what Brynjolf was saying past the word “beautiful”. For reasons she didn’t wish to pause to figure out, it was difficult to focus with him standing so close to her, with the gentle pressure of his hand on her hip, with her fingers tangled with his, with his eyes on hers, with–

Get it together.

Brynjolf’s comment caught her off-guard. Lashes fluttering, she looked up at him, briefly, and fumbled on a murmurous Thank you, blush spilling down her neck. 

Her hand was resting on his shoulder, and through his tunic she could feel the firm outline of muscle, and the warmth of his skin. Lightly skipping the pad of her thumb over the crook of his neck, she risked looking up at him again. Really, she felt like hiding. She wanted to melt to a puddle and disappear through the cracks in the floorboards.Not because the dance was going badly, however, oh no. But because it was going a little bit too well.

At the same time, however, there was nothing she wanted more than to rest in this moment for a while longer. Firelight caught in Brynjolf’s auburn hair, and sparkled in his green eyes. Shuddering in the air around them, it cast the room in a soft orange glow, and alighted halo-like over the man’s head. Never had she seen someone look so radiant.

“I– You were saying something? The, um, stall? I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

Taking in a slow breath, Madlen dared to slide her hand around to curve around the back of his neck. After all, she reasoned, they had an appearance to keep up. She was sure he’d understand

[ofconsandcoin]

He raised an eyebrow, feeling concerned for a moment, but he figured she was still embarrassed about dancing in front of so many people. Before he could repeat what he’d said, her hand traveled across the crook of his neck and rested on the back of it. Repressing a shiver and trying to ignore the heat that was beginning to spread from the skin under her hand, he put on a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay, lass,” he replied. He swallowed, a bit harder than expected, and continued. “I said we should check the Gray-mane’s stall in the marketplace. I’ve heard they keep their jewelry locked in there every night.”

Suddenly, it seemed like the bard’s playing grew louder, and it was too dangerous to speak of their plans any louder. The inn was filling up as well, so their departure would easily go unnoticed; even if someone saw, they’d likely figure they were merely a couple spending the night together. The thought made his ears turn pink, but thankfully they were hidden by his hair.

Brynjolf shook the idea from his mind and returned his focus to Madlen.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said. “It’ll be easier to talk, and it’s getting late. We’ll be leaving soon anyway.”

[deadlylockpicks]

“Well no, but I assumed there would be many more mead bottles rolling around in here.” She gave a light laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Boredom is not what I would call it… Well, call it that only slightly. I’ve got little mouths to feed and a mind to occupy. The waking world is a cruel place.”

[ofconsandcoin]

“Sounds like you’ve got a story or two, eh?” he replied. “What do you say to a drink at the Flagon? It’s been just as busy since you left. I’ve got a few stories myself if you’re interested.” He moved next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “The others will be glad to see you,” he said, squeezing her shoulder gently.

[ofconsandcoin]

The Bedlam Job ||with thethievingbard||

[thethievingbard]

Madlen nodded. She hasn’t been too keen on the idea of raiding the temple herself. As much as she might have made light of it, she was not in an hurry to displease the Gods. Besides, Brynjolf was right; there was no doubt little to be had from the temple regardless. If she had a Septim for every time Maramal had complained about the temple’s lack of funds, she’d be a rich woman.

She listened to the rest of Brynjolf’s plan, from time to time nodding in agreement. But then, the conversation drew to an abrupt halt as the waitress came over. Madlen flashed her a smile, leaning back a tad in her chair.

It wasn’t long before the conversation took an unexpected turn, however.

“Dancing?” Madlen said, lips parting in a laugh. Freckled cheeks reddening, she hid her face behind her hand, unable to keep the smile from her lips. “I’m not much of a dancer,” she began, but at one look at Brynjolf - at the grin spread over his lips, at the sparkle in his eyes - she buckled. 

She gazed at him for a few moments more, heart bumping around clumsily in her chest, before taking his hand with a sigh. Smiling, blush deepening, she breathed a chuckle, eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks as she gazed down at their joined hands.

“All right, then,” she said, looking back up, and giving his hand a squeeze. She looked around at the other patrons and hummed. “Well, at least my dancing partner is by far the handsomest here. I guess this can’t be too bad.” So saying, she flashed the waitress another grin and got to her feet.

What she had said was true. She wasn’t much of a dancer. But, from the looks of things, neither were most of the people here. This imbued her with some kind of confidence, at least.

“Done much dancing?” she asked him, as the two of them wandered into an open space on the floor.

[ofconsandcoin]

He grin widely and raised an eyebrow, finding her reaction amusing and her blush adorable. “Neither am I,” he said, glancing over to the others filling the center of the inn. “But the others don’t look like they are either.”

His eyes held hers expectantly, and his smile grew when she took his hand; stomach fluttering a bit in response, but he thought nothing of it. Fingers wrapped around hers, thumb resting on her knuckles. Her soft skin contrasted greatly with his rough and calloused hands, but it only intensified feeling of his enveloping hers. 

The mention of ‘lovely gazes’ caught Brynjolf’s attention, but with close they sat together and with their hushed conversation, the mistake of something more intimate could’ve easily been made. He couldn’t push it from his mind entirely as she watched her scanned the rest of the patrons and mentioned him as being the most attractive. 

A smirked crossed his lips at the comment before he replied, “And mine the most beautiful.”

He followed her lead and stood from his chair, taking the few steps to the center of the small inn with his hand still holding hers. Standing in front of her, he offered a playful smile and placed his left hand on her waist and his right held hers up in the air on her left side. They began stepping along with the bard’s rhythm, gradually making a circle.

“So,” he began, taking advantage of the noise to avoid being overheard. “Once we hit the houses, we’ll move to the shops and stalls. The Gray-mane woman keeps her jewelry in her stall, so we’ll have to search that before we leave,” he continued.

“You’re doing fine, by the way, lass,” Brynjolf added, knowing Madlen was nervous, or at the very least, a bit embarrassed.

Admittedly, he was enjoying himself dancing with her. The fire of the hearth illuminated the orange tones in her hair and reflected in her clay-colored eyes, and any further thoughts of the job vanished for the moment. Had there been room, he would’ve twirled her around and enjoyed the blush that so often filled her cheeks. If he was honest with himself, he would’ve admitted to finding it endearing.

[ofconsandcoin]

{{continued from here}}

@deadlylockpicks

"Oh Bryn, how you wound me." Her snark matched his own, her hands coming up to clasp over her heart, feigning an injury. "Admit it, you missed me.  But, I do have to give you some credit, the place is still standing."

He feigned an insulted expression. “Did you think it would fall?” he asked with a short gasp. “I’m a little more than capable of keeping it from crumbling, lass,” he added with a smirk. “So, what brings you back to the city? You get bored out there? Can’t imagined life outside the guild is much fun.”

[ofconsandcoin]

Two Times Betrayed ||with thethievingbard||

[thethievingbard]

She’s heard the rumours, of course. All of them have. Riften is not a very large place; information spreads as quickly as a wildfire over a dry, grassy tundra. And a very important part of being a thief, she’d found, is to keep one’s eyes and ears open at all times.

And so, when they’re all called to gather in the Cistern, it’s hardly a surprise. What’s more, she thinks they all already know what is about to be said.

Brynjolf’s words fall into an empty, sombre hush. His gaze meets hers, and, for a moment, there is only the deep, harrowing fear in his bright eyes, and the sound of her blood rushing past her ears. 

“She’s given up the names of every member,” Brynjolf says, and, at that moment, along with everyone else in the room, Madlen’s blood turns to ice. Murmurs sound around her, echoing in the gloom, but she can barely understand what anybody is saying. Terror is stopping her ears. 

Revyn shouts a call to arms. There are a few murmured agreements, but Madlen gives her head a half-shake, closing her eyes. You need to be a special kind of fool to face off the Black-Briars. In the end, they have only one option. Brynjolf voices as much, and a pang hits her in the stomach. Just when she’d gotten used to standing still - Gods. Just when she’d found something worth standing still for, out comes the rug from under her feet. Game over. The jig is up. Time to stop playing at being content; the world is waiting.

Brynjolf’s closing words blur into a low kind of buzzing, and it’s only when he comes over to her that she finds herself once more. Looking up at him, she blinks, a trembling sob trapped somewhere in the back of her throat, eyelashes fluttering. He’s scared. She can see it. And she can feel it, the fear coming from him in waves. And that’s never, ever a good sign.

Soon, he’s stood before her, his hand cupping her cheek. Instinctively, her own hand moves to cup his, and she nuzzled into the touch, eyes wide, lashes brushing frenetically over her cheeks. 

“What?!” she intones, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. Of course, he’s probably right - he is, by far, the most sensible out of the two of them. But she can’t bring herself to listen to him this time. Can’t go along with what he’s proposing. 

“I can’t put you in danger like that, lass.” Her heart clenches at those words; guilt stabs her sharply between the ribs. His voice is so quiet, so heartbreakingly desperate. But she can’t give him what he wants. Not this time. It’s selfish, she knows, but to be separated from him would be unbearable.

“No,” she says, as firmly as her shaking voice and tear-filled throat will allow. “No. Maven’s taking everything else from me; I’m not letting her take you, too. I can’t, Brynjolf. And, besides - just who is gonna have your back if I’m not there?”

She swallows. Pulls on her fiercest frown. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that.” Reaching up, her hands come to frame his features now, delicate fingertips skimming over features she’s grown to love so well over the months. Features she’s come to know as well as her own. 

“I love you. That means no giving up. No wimping out. Not now, not ever.”

[ofconsandcoin]

His head lowered in her hands, and his eyes squeezed shut, unable to stop the horrible images of her death even when not looking at her. The thoughts turned his stomach and made his heart pound in his ears.

“I can’t...” he choked out. He couldn’t let her stay with him. He knew there was no escaping Maven; she’d send the best after him, and they’d destroy anyone in their way. 

I love you. He loved when she said it, even if it pained him to hear it. Just a reminder of how he didn’t deserve her; her patience, her understanding. He felt as though he was stringing her along, giving her hope that he might one day return the declaration. The words pulled his mind from its own torment, and he returned his eyes to hers. They were filled with a determination he couldn’t help but be proud of, even if he wished it gone in this moment. 

He blinked hard a few times, trying to be rid of the sting behind his eyelids. If he really wanted her to leave the guild without him, if he really thought she was safer without him, he’d perform the ultimate con... He’d break her heart. Tell her he couldn’t keep up the charade of caring about her anymore. Tell her that it wasn’t worth having her around, that she would only slow him down and get him killed. Tell her that her love was misplaced, that he would never love her back. If he was set on saving her life, he’d do it. He’d lie. But a thief is selfish by nature; even those a thief cares about can’t escape it.

Rather than push her away, he closed the distance between them and claimed her lips with his own. It was a needy kiss, rough and desperate, as though it’d be their last. For all Brynjolf knew, it very well could’ve been. His right hand moved to the nape of her neck, tilting her head back just slightly, while the other wrapped around her waist, holding her flush against his body.

He pulled away and moved both his hands to either side of her waist. His forehead rested down against hers, and with his eyes closed, he let out a shaky sigh.

“If I lose you...” he trailed off, unable to finish his thought. She might’ve been in danger herself; if something were to happen to her, and he wasn’t there to protect her, he’d never forgive himself. If anything were to happen because of him, though, he’d have the same issue. It seemed there was no decent compromise to the issue. He couldn’t imagine being without her either. “If you come with me,” he finally managed, “I don’t... I don’t know what’ll happen, Maddy.”

His expression lightened with a small smile as he lifted his head, accepting that no amount of rationalization would solve the issue nor dissuade her from remaining with him. 

“You still got my back, lass?”

[books-n-quotes]

There has to be a moment at the beginning when you wonder whether you’re in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself.

David Levithan, The Lover’s Dictionary

Get the FREE Kindle Reading App

(via books-n-quotes)

[ofconsandcoin]

Headcanon #1

//Brynjolf’s scar on his face is from a heist gone wrong. He was working with the first woman he loved, but the client had set up a trap for the thieves. The pair was ambushed by several mercenaries, and a brutal battle ensued. His lover was lost to him, and he was utterly heartbroken and enraged. He hunted down the client and slaughtered him. It was a slow and painful death, and though killing was against the guild’s code, Mercer (Guild Master at the time) took no issue with it.

//It was this sudden loss that drove Brynjolf to close himself off from pursuing romantic interests. Should someone manage to sneak past this wall he’s created, he’ll struggle with admitting to loving them because he’s unsure whether he’s in love with them or just desperately wants that companionship again. Is he in love with them, or in love with the idea of being in love once again?

[ofconsandcoin]

For the Muse:

RULES: You can only say guilty or innocent. You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you or asks you.

Repost, don’t reblog!

TAGGED BY: @thethievingbard You’re still a doll <3!!!

TAGGING: I think everyone I talk to has been tagged, but if not… I TAG YOU!

Asked someone to marry you? innocent

Kissed one of your friends? innocent

Danced on a table in a bar/tavern? innocent

Ever told a lie? guilty

Had feelings for someone which you can’t have? guilty

Ever kissed someone of the same sex? innocent

Kissed a picture? guilty

Slept in until 5pm? innocent

Fallen asleep at work/school? innocent

Held a snake? guilty

Worked at a restaurant/tavern? innocent

Stolen something? guilty

Been fired from a job? innocent

Done something you regret? guilty

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose?guilty

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? guilty

Kissed in the rain? innocent

Sat on a rooftop? guilty

Kissed someone you shouldn’t? innocent

Sang in the shower/bath? guilty

Been pushed into a pool/pond with all your clothes on? guilty

Shaved your head? innocent

Slept naked? guilty

Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? guilty

Shot a gun crossbow? innocent

Still loved someone you shouldn’t? innocent

Have/had a tattoo? innocent

Liked someone, but will never tell who? guilty

Been too honest? innocent

Ruined a surprise? innocent

Ate in a restaurant/tavern and got really bloated that you can’t walk after? innocent

Dressed in woman’s clothes? innocent

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? guilty

Still have communication w/ your ex? innocent

Cheated on someone? innocent

A total stranger treated you by paying your fare? innocent

Got so angry that you cried? guilty

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? guilty

Thoughts about suicide? innocent

Thoughts about murder? guilty

How about mass murder? innocent

Stalked someone? innocent

Had a girlfriend? guilty

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday? guilty

[ofconsandcoin]

"I guess this is the part where we shake hands and say 'nice to meet you', right?"

Brynjolf looked down at the fair-haired woman and unfolded his right arm from his chest. “Oh, sure, lass,” he replied. “You want me to pretend you didn’t leave us without a guild master, eh?” He snark was replaced by a genuine smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Bri.”

[adhesiongel]

scottish rebel princess of the thieves guild

[ofconsandcoin]

The Bedlam Job ||with thethievingbard||

[thethievingbard]

Madlen nodded, pushing her bowl away, licking her lips. She leaned in a little to make out his words over the din, letting her hair out of its bun and pulling it down over her shoulder. Absently, she braided the wavy strands as she listened to him, brows furrowed.

“I agree with you,” she said, quietly, “on all points.” She tried to recall the information Brynjolf had shared with her on their journey, and the details of the map he’s presented her with.

“And if I remember correctly, the two most prestigious households in Whiterun are in quite close proximity. Then there’s the temple. I suppose if you feel like sticking a finger up at the Gods, you could raid the donation box. I doubt there’ll be much else in there of worth.”

Hands dropping to the coin purse at her waist, she counted out enough coin for the stew and left it on the table in a few neat towers of gold. Toying absently with them, stacking them over and over in different configurations, she let out a whoosh of breath. This would all go smoothly, she was sure. But whilst she wasn’t exactly nervous, she wanted to prove herself to Mercer. She didn’t necessarily care for the man, but if anyone wanted to stick around in the Guild, his approval was key. Brynjolf’s support only could carry her so much.

Running her fingers through her hair, lossing the braids once more, she turned her gaze onto Brynjolf.

“Well, anyway, whatever. I’ll follow your lead.”

[ofconsandcoin]

His gaze watched her fingers deftly toy with her hair for a few moments before moving to her eyes, listening as she spoke. He let his hands drop from his chin and crossed them on the table, leaning forward a bit to hear and be heard better. The idea of letting her take over the job crossed his mind, but he wanted to ensure this went right; it wasn’t that he believed she’d mess up, but if something were to go wrong, he wanted it to be on his head. He didn’t want Mercer to have any reason to be rid of Madlen. The lass would prove a valuable asset to the guild, of that he was sure.

“There’s no reason to bother with the temple,” he replied. “People are greedy with their coin and rarely donate.” It was an ironic mention, but he was well aware. He wasn’t opposed to stealing from a temple in general, he wasn’t much for religion to begin with, but Whiterun’s temple was also a place of great healing, and it relied heavily on donations to pay for supplies. He wasn’t keen on making their job more difficult in that regard.

“Going from the Gray-mane’s, we can move on to the Battle-born’s, and then to the food merchant’s house, and that mercenary’s,” he continued. “Merchants who keep homes in the city keep their profits stashed in their houses, and mercenaries make some good coin, not to mention the trinkets they come across in their travels.”

He halted any further words when the waitress returned, taking Madlen’s coin from the table.

“Anythin’ else I can help ya with?” she asked.

“Actually,” Brynjolf said, giving Madlen a warm grin for show. “We’d like a room for the night as well.”

The waitress smiled and nodded, “Sure thing, hun. It’s 10 gold for a night. I’ll let Hulda know for ya.”

“Thank you,” he replied, pulling the gold from his coin purse.

“Y’know,” the waitress began, “the bard’s pretty good. Why don’t you two get up there an’ dance with the rest of ‘em?”

Brynjolf held up a hand and shook his head, the grin remaining in place. “It’s tempting, but we’re fine here.”

“Ah, come on,” she insisted. “You two are keepin’ them lovely gazes to yerselves. Aught’a share ‘em so everyone else can see.”

Brynjolf chuckled and looked over at Madlen. “What do you say, lass?” he asked, holding his hand out for her to take.