* BASTARD / GOD.

indie & selective martin septim. by vile.

[septimfool]

         "   you do me too much honor .    for who am i ?     the bastard heir of a dead emperor .     "            est.  8/10/17

[septimfool]

‘    i  don’t  mean  to  be  rude ,     but  your  complexion  seems ...     off .    ‘     fingers  latch  idly  to  the  amulet  of  an  idle  god ,   letting  his  anxiety  knit  itself  into  the  air  around  them .     ‘     i  am  a  priest  trained  in  the  chapel  not  too  far  from  here .     i  can  help  you ,    if  you  so  desire .    ‘

@thonecraft clicked

[septimfool]

       STARTER CALL !      mixed   verses   :)

[septimfool]

           hiiiiiiiiiiiii  so  a)  im  back  bc  i  missed  marty ,  but  b )  my  computer  is  still  fucked  so  i  have  limited  icons  &  will  be  incredibly  slow .    anyways ,  im  going  to  go  through  my  activity ,  catch  up ,   &   hopefully  throw  out  a  reply  or  two !

[zorra-lombardi-a-deactivated202]

Send me 🌺 to place a flower in my muse's hair.

[septimfool]

         his  life  has  been  sheltered ,  above  all .    growing  up  surrounded  by  banners  proclaiming  his  empire’s  great  virtue ,   never  knowing  cold  or  the  harshness  of  war ,  martin’s  life  has  been  nothing  short  of  dreamlike .   but  his  coronation  was  barely  over  by  the  time  the  news  had  reached  cyrodiil-  the  high  king  of  skyrim  had  been  murdered .  martin  never  pretended  to  understand  the  nords ,  &  he  never  will ,  but  he  cannot  fathom  how  this  man  is  not  already  at  the  wrong  end  of  an  executioner’s  blade .

          still ,  he  is  bound  by  duty  &  the  upholding  of  the  septim  name  to  visit  the  ancient  city  of  windhelm  in  some  effort  of  diplomacy .  after  all ,  it  is  no  secret  there  is  great  tension  between  the  aldmeri  &  the  empire .  if  he  loses  skyrim  as  an  ally ,  he  might  as  well  kiss  stability  goodbye .

         these  are  the  thoughts  rattling  around  his  skull  as  he  climbs  the  ancient  steps  to  the  palace  of  the  kings ,  frost  reflecting  off  blankets  to  freeze  his  fingertips .  the  biting  cold  is  foreign ,  but  at  least  he  now  truly  appreciates  the  thick  fur  of  his  ornate  robes .  the  very  fabric  pools  around  his  feet  as  he  walks  through  the  grand ,  towering  doors ,  coming  face  to  face  with  the  man  who  has  singlehandedly  plunged  a  nation  into  chaos .

                       ‘  i  trust  you  are  the  jarl  ulfric  stormcloak  i’ve  heard  so  much  about ?  ‘

@bearcloak clicked.

[septimfool]

              ‘  you’re  not  just  going  to  let  them  suffer ,  are  you ?!  ‘   his  voice  reveals  haste ,  tone  betraying  the  worry  intertwined  throughout  each  syllable .  questioning  the  gods  had  become  a  hobby  for  him  in  tamriel ,  &  now  that  he  has  been  accepted  as  an  agent  of  akatosh ,  he  finds  himself  face  to  face  with  the  divines .  ‘  you  have  to  do  something !  i’m  willing  to  go  down  there ,  you  can’t  just-  you  can’t  let  them  just  hurt  like  that  !  ‘

@mortaloved clicked.

[septimfool]

sb:  are  you  a  boy  or  a  girl ?  martin:  bitch  im  a  GOD

[septimfool]

       STARTER CALL !      mixed   verses   :)

[praevaricatri-blog]

     The touch of cool metal trailing over his arm will break him from his thoughts, the points of black claws drawing the lightest red upon pale skin in neat lines up towards his wrist. The woman didn’t intend to harm him, just to get his attention. She could sense something about this man. 

       Something… That burned her skin. Put a sting in her blood.

       This man was associated with Aedra, and heavily. The elf could practically feel Boethiah roiling in their realm by being in his presence alone ;; but regardless, with face partially obscured, she will offer him a soft smile.

       “ What’s someone as nice as you doing out in a place like this? It’s dark out. “ Her voice hums past his ears, fingers retracting from his arm with a stifled quickness that she hoped didn’t rouse any true suspicion. She’ll be having a lot of explaining to do with the Prince of Treachery about this soon.

( @septimfool​ . )

[septimfool]

                any  trace  of  brother  martin  has  dissipated ,  allowing  himself  to  slip  back  into  feral  ways .   a  life  of  aedra  &  good  will  has  proven  to  be  far  too  cozy  for  him ,  calm  a  feeling  too  foreign  to  live  in .   daedric  magic  swims  around  her ,  weaving  itself  into  the  atmosphere  surrounding  every  inch  of  elven  skin ,  &  something  about  that  brings  comfort .  a  sly  smile  plays  at  his  lips .

          ‘  it’s  easier  to  have  FUN  in  the  dark .   any  good  priest  of  sanguine  should  relish  in  the  nighttime ,  friend .  ‘   a  laugh  too  dark  for  such  an  innocent  face  swells  in  the  crisp  air ,  how  delightful  this  relapse  feels !  damn  priesthood ,  his  bones  have  known  dark  pleasures  &  they  ache  for  sin  too  much  to  ignore .

           sharp  lips  only  curl  wider ,  now  it  is  his  turn  for  running  fingers  up  her  arm .  ‘  i  might  ask  you  why  you  are  out-  although ,  i  believe  i  have  at  least  some  idea . ‘

[septimfool]

“I fight because I must.”

SKYRIM  STARTERS  >>  ACCEPTING .

                  ‘  does  it  not  tire  you ?  ‘    voice  holds  no  ill-will ,  only  an  exhaustion  earned  from  years  of  poor  choices .   exploring  dangerous  magic  because  he  must ,   following  others  because  he  must ,  forsaking  friends  because  he  must .  how  his  heart  aches  as  it  yearns  for  the  time  that  heals .  he  has  yet  to  find  it .   ‘  friend ,  there  is  little  we  are  required  to  do  in  this  life .  if  you  wish  to  come  further  into  the  chapel ,  i  may  help  with  whatever  ails  you .  ‘

[septimfool]

LITTLE CHARACTER THINGS

just a fun little character game. fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. repost & tag away !

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

01. curiosity 02. compassion 03. concern 04. remorse 05. self-doubt

COLORS:

01. gold 02. azure 03. crimson 04. gray 05. silver

SCENTS:

01. burning wood 02. rain on pavement 03. new books

CLOTHING:

01. flowing robes 02. dark hoods 03. golden armor 04. trailing cloaks 05. divine amulets

OBJECTS:

01. worn tomes 02. wildflowers left at an altar 03. the amulet of kings

VICES / BAD HABITS:

01. self-loathing 02. reckless selflessness 03. overthinking 04. curious to a fault

BODY LANGUAGE:

01. slumped shoulders 02. fingers clinging to robes 03. cocked hip 04. downward gazes 05. wavy hair shifting

AESTHETICS:

01. stained glass windows 02. fields of tall grass in the wind 03. dragons circling gray skies 04. blood pooling beneath tomes 05. fire overtaking forests

SONGS:

01. wake | the antlers 02. lost that easy | cold war kids 03. the past is a grotesque animal | of montreal 04. a more perfect union | titus andronicus 05. dull boy | the growlers

TAGGING: anyone who sees this TAGGED BY: stole it 

[septimfool]

MOODBOARD FOR @mountainmage

“  a tree does not fall with the first blow. “

[mountainmage]

Martin Septim Moodboard for @septimfool

[septimfool]

madeline  >      akatosh’s  fallen  hero .

A priest then. While not a follower of the Nine, she’s never been one to disrespect others for their faith. It would be hypocritical as such to herself–who finds more connectivity in living under the admittedly terrifying at times watch of the Daedric Ones. After all, if you respect someone, they’re less likely to want to kill you. “Akatosh–I can’t imagine he’s listening right now. Not for me at least.” A wry grin.  The girl cranes her neck, looking down into the valley below them.  “Helgen then.” She murmurs, just loud enough that he can hear her over the whistling of the winds: the whinnying of the horses and the  voices of the guards. “I expected Solitude honestly. What are you here for–Heresy? I suppose it wouldn’t be a stretch these days with the Thalmor’s issue on Talos.”

          ‘   you  could  say  that .   ‘   how  hard  it  hits  to  hear  her  thinking  that  akatosh  has  forsaken  her .    how  can  she  miss  the  fact  that  the  dragonlord  has  chosen  her  for  a  path  of  unmistakable  glory  &  heroism ,  despite  how  she  turns  to  dark  deeds  done  in  the  shadows ?   martin   looks  expectantly  to  the  horses  &  the  looming  walls  of  helgen .  he  will  not  die  ( again )  today .

                ‘  akatosh  is  always  listening .  even  admist  those  thalmor  bastards  spreading  lies  &  malice-  akatosh  remains .  &  so  does  the  great  tiber  septim .  ‘     martin’s  blood  boils  at  the  mere  mention  of  the  thalmor .  how  eager  they  were  to  erase  his  sacrifice ,  to  erase  the  hero  of  kvatch’s  glory ,  to  claim  credit  for  a  deed  he  had  willingly  died  for .  not  that  had  mattered-  he  had  failed  as  an  emperor .  he  has  not  been  able  to  keep  the  empire  alive .

[septimfool]

       STARTER CALL !      mixed   verses   :)

[consequential-stranger]

Martin Septim is my best friend no one can convince me otherwise