#dagoth ur x reader

[old-dominarava]

Gilded Dreams

Dagoth Ur × Gender Neutral!Reader

CW: Dub-con (that's really it, this piece is fairly short)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 808

Summary: Visions from a life you never lived and the desires of a god pushed to the edge of sanity finally reach a fever pitch in the realm of your dreams.

Notes: I was inspired by @gideonaweaponachild funny ass post that just wouldn't leave my brain and I figured I should make a post for my shit so I don't leave it shoehorned on someone else's post like a weirdo lol

Dusks and twilights seemed to blend into an endless golden haze through the clouds of your mind with nights plagued by his dreams. Messages left like dagger pinned notes in your thoughts played over and over with the brush of your steps trudging through ash day in and day out in your pilgrimage.

Dreams left on your tongue felt suffocating as each breath of him trying to fill your lungs with the remnants of the one he’d lost tried to swallow your being whole. A haunting wedding of blurred faces and untethered joyous eruptions from him held the shadow of a life he once lived. Infinite doors in a boundless hall that always lead back to him and the vision of your own frame laid bare and lifeless to be revived by your touch left you gasping in the crisp morning air.

Though, the longer this went on, the more desperate he seemed to become with his sorrow pouring over you in hot spills of molten desire that begged you near. An image buried into your mind, smiles and indecipherable chatter brought you into the sanctity of what was left of his mental garden, a safe haven of electric light and pleasure that wormed into the essence of your spirit. Paralyzed in your movement when he reached for you, it was as if you were in the skin of another, sitting passenger to a life you hadn’t lived in the warmth of his grip lacing with yours. Despite being unable to understand the flows of an ancient dialect dripping from his lips, something he said tied itself around in an insidious vice:

“I missed you.. Dearest Nerevar.. did you..”

You couldn’t shake it. Any of it. No matter how you were told these were the lies of a god scorn, the ache in your chest never ceased to scream out for him. In some ways, you almost wished these dreams would never end, a balm to your soul that you never knew you needed. Fingertips buzzing with something you refused to give name to as you settled into your bedroll once more, a creeping thought of what the Sharmat would leave unbound in your dreamscape this eve left the pound of your heart to betray you.

“My Lord, my Moon and Star, my Light– For centuries I have awaited you– bid plea to your rising once more– Come, Nerevar.. treachery of those Three against the beauty of your life– against us– have no place here. I forgive you. I only ask that you join me as you once did. Join me in glory. In blood. In desire unmet by the rot of time. The silks are still warm. Come, Nerevar. Come. Please.”

Desperation in his tone bled into your bones as this vision brought you into the flickering lamp stains of his chambers. As promised, the silks had been left warm, awaiting your return to your rightful place beneath the one who assured far more than fleeting pleasure. Even so, there were no further ties of sweet words now as he pressed you face down into the cushion of what he had prepared for your arrival.

Laid before him as a gift he had long since thought was lost to him, grunts of his need floated around your headspace in a delirious mix of heat and overwhelming fullness. Palm to the back of your skull, your gaze remained locked on the glimmering visage he’d discarded before you to breathe easier in his exertion. Be it shame or control, he dared not let you see the face behind the mask now as it stared you down with its trifolded sight laying upon you as the keeper of this moment.

Obscene harmonics from the wet of your union drove you mad until you felt the coil of a messy end drawing you completely under his spell. Sung praises of pleasure from him turned to a flood of adoration with the combined spill of your climaxes closed the cycle of his loneliness. Surely though it wasn’t enough with the secure of a crimson sash to your eyes, turning the dial up on his need unchained.

Bringing you to the seat of his lap, your favorite throne he quoted from your past life, he directed you to enjoy him for as long as you could stand it. Doing as you were told, for how could you deny him, it was if you had returned home after a war you didn’t remember signing up for. One turned to two, to three, to four, in a realm where exhaustion seemed to be a thing only mortals considered. Each shared kiss became a vow written in the starlight of time that nothing would ever separate the celestial bodies that had become one in defiance of destiny itself.

“My Moon and Star.. my Nerevar.. mine.. always..”

[seva-over]

MY HAND, MY HEART, MY SOUL

Dagoth Ur x reader (romantic) Warnings: mentions of death, murder, corprus, depression, identity crisis, loneliness, reader is Nerevarine and very stressed about it, short appearance of a Dark Brotherhood assassin is a warning too because they are SCARY

Tags: @ramshead-shackles

Notes: I tried going for something more ambiguous this time, leaving the ending pretty much to your interpretation. You're free to choose what I meant by 'your real name' here :)

You stood in a large chamber, its walls the color red. On either side of you, two crowds of people stood, their faces shining with mirth and what seemed like recognition – no, it didn’t seem like it; they did recognize you. They called out your name. Nerevar.

Was it even your name?

A tall man in gold appeared by your side. He took your arm, his hold so tender but cold, it made you want to pull away – he wouldn’t let you. He led you through the chamber, towards some kind of an altar. A reddish-pink altar, you figured – and it moved. It hung from the ceiling, a big, pulsating mass, and pulsated above the ground. You felt the urge to vomit. You turned to look at the man, whose masked gaze remaining facing forward; you tried to scream, but you found there was no air. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish’s, your chest fluttering in vain as you struggled to mimic the process of breathing, hoping against hope that it would work.

But it never did.

The masked figure stopped you in front of the altar, you could see now that it was a heart. A large, beating heart. The man turned to face you, and as you turned your head to look at the crowd, you saw their faces were now decaying. They stared at nothing in particular, the flowers they held falling from their hands. It felt as though you were standing in a field of corpses – and it sure felt as though you were becoming one yourself. The man pulled you out of your thoughts by pulling you closer, three red eyes meeting your own terrified ones. There was something so familiar about this man, about his touch and…

“Sweet Nerevar…” …his voice.

“Sweet, sweet Nerevar…” the man repeated, one hand going up from your waist to cup your cheek. “Come back to me, my friend. Come back, and we shall know no pain!” His voice. You remembered it from… from where? Were you even alive when he first talked to you? Were you even you?

“Nerevar…” he said again, his voice fading away. Or were you fading away? “Nerevar, come back to me… come back…” You awoke to the feeling of a cold presense in your small room. Your trembling hand reached down to your hip, pulling an old, rusty dagger out of your pocket. You opened your eye just wide enough to see someone raising his weapon at you, and in a flash, you threw yourself at the man, slicing and stabbing and tearing at his armor. It wasn’t the first time an assassin had woken you up – but it was the first time you were glad to be pulled out of your nightmare. The Red Mountain stood before you in your next dream. You fell on your knees in front of it, your hands reaching out as if to embrace it. Tears were frozen on your cheeks, your throat fluttering in vain as you tried to scream. You wanted to call out to someone, to someone you knew or you thought you knew. Your body trembled, and the world was silent. Suddenly, a cacophony of noises deafened you, coming from everywhere at once; the sounds seemed to emerge from within you, threatening to tear you apart. A dark figure clad in gold started descending the mountain, and the noises grew louder the closer it got – and then your dream ended.

You woke up, the morning light shining right at your face through the window. Shouts and hushed whispers came from outside, further awaking you from your restless sleep. But it was a voice from outside that made you sit up in bed and your heart beat faster.

“Open the door, outlander,” the unmistakable voice of an ordinator rasped through the door. “By the decision of the Tribunal, you are sentenced to death as the false Nerevarine. Open the door this instant.”

You bit your tongue to hold back a curse, your gaze snapping to the window. You grabbed what little things you had, your hands beginning to sweat as you heard the door shake and rattle. You opened the window, threw out your backpack, and squeezed yourself out afterwards. Thankfully, the ordinators seemed to only be outside your door. You ran without turning back, your legs aching and your lungs burning. You heard your door finally giving in to the force of the ordinators, and it shattered, sending splinters everywhere; the men rushed inside, but they didn’t see you anywhere. “Find the false Nerevarine!” one of them barked, and the men ran back out of the tiny building, spreading out to find you. And you, meanwhile, kept running. Something pulled you to the Red Mountain. It wasn’t curiosity or the need for adventures – it was something deeper. Something ancient, something older than you. It wanted you, bled for you, and painted a way to itself with its blood - it breathed for you. It was ready to die for you.

The road to the Red Mountain was long and exhausting. The people just seemed to get crazier the closer you got to it, and the beginning storm didn’t make it any better. The rare people that you bumped into would tell you to either get out of there or come see the mountain. A terrifying cacophony of pleas and screams and laughter filled the air, and you could feel your mind coming apart from the sheer intensity of the pain surrounding you.

But a single voice cut through the overwhelming surroundings of yours, whispering your name: Nerevar. Your name… since when was it your name? Who even were you at this point?

The voice grew louder when you stopped in front of the mountain. You fell to your knees, your vision growing dark and blurry. You tried to remember a name, a familiar one. It felt on the tip of your tongue, made your head spin and your body ache. “V… Voryn!” you cried out finally. “Voryn! I’m here! I’m back!”

And the skies fell down. They swallowed you whole, devouring your mind and body and leaving naught behind but dust and memory. You now remembered.

You stood in a large chamber, its walls the color red. On either side of you, two crowds of people stood, their faces shining with mirth and recognition. They called out your name.

A tall man in gold appeared by your side. He took your arm, his hold so tender and firm. He made you feel safe. He led you through the chamber, towards the Heart. You turned your head to the figure, trying to read his bottomless eyes – they shone with happiness.

The masked figure stopped you in front of the Heart. The man turned to face you, and as you turned your head to look at the crowd, you saw them frowing flowers at you. You finally felt like you belonged. The man pulled you towards himself, three red eyes meeting your own.

“My dear one,” he whispered, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “My friend.” He fell to his knees, his hands wrapping around your own. “My love. I offer you my hand,” his mask began melting, the gold leaking down his face and onto the floor, “my heart,” his face, revealed, now shone with a layer of thick molten gold, “my soul.”

His cold, gentle lips pressed against your hands, and the crowd called out your name. Your real name. You were home.

[markedbambi]

✧☽• Sweet Nerevar •☾✧

In this YOU are Nerevar, no specified race or gender, may differ away from canon a bit sorry

Based off of the wedding dream

Past romance - slight Angst - slightly Long

Tw: death, panic attack

It had been a couple weeks since you stepped off that boat, something drew you here. Before you had been working as a merchant in Cyrodiil, business had been slow for the past few months but your boss assured you everything would be okay. But then he passed, an illness overtook your boss's body and he slowly withered away before your very eyes. It had taken a few months before he was bed bound, his nord wife sitting by his side holding his hand as she wept. You still remember walking into the room and glancing at your mentor, your boss, and your friend as he wheezed before going into a coughing spell.

You stood right next to your boss's wife laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. They were both elderly, so you knew it would eventually happen but it still hurt nonetheless. There you stood comforting an elderly nord whose once blonde hair had turned grey at the root, whose face had wrinkled with time and whose eyes looked tired. 'Y/n..' A faint call from a dying Nord, his hair was completely grey along with his beard that had a few braids in it. His eyes looked tired as he stared up at you, you held it all in wanting to remain strong for your friend 'Sovengard awaits me..my friend' he said weakly. You regret not saying more in your short time with him, you regretted not thanking him for the years of mentoring. "I'm sorry bos-" he interrupted you "I'm not your boss anymore, right now I'm your friend" his wife had let go of his hand and now his boney scar covered hand reached out to you. He gave you a thankful look, a smile on his face till the very end. He used the strength he could to squeeze your hand in a comforting way, then he looked to his wife exchanging lovely words and promises to find each other again.

It had been a couple months since then and it still hurt to not see him, to not hear his advice. You were sat in an inn drinking a cup of mazte, glancing at the hand that held your cup a small glimmer of light. A ring of a moon and a star, you had slowly tried to accept your supposed fate. You were the Nerevar, a legend and to some a god. Azura had led you here, you had no recollection of this past life, no memory of Indoril Nerevar but yet you were him and he was you.

Ever since you got that ring from Azura you began to have weirdly cryptic dreams, dreams that made you want to stay awake. They made you feel as if you weren't really yourself, question if you were truly Y/N or Indoril. Dreams of a masked dunmer with three red eyes and long disheveled black hair. He felt so familiar but still like a stranger at the same time, you knew he was from your past but didn't know what as. Or maybe he was simply toying with you, making you confused and manipulating you into thinking he was someone.

You were torn away from your thoughts by a tap on your shoulder, blinking you looked behind you towards a dunmer woman "it's quite late will you be needing a room?" You nodded taking out ten gold, you already knew where the room was you had been staying here for the past three days sorting through your mind. You groggily walked to the small room before closing the door, a window sat near your bed giving you a good look at the stars outside. You laid on the worn bed, you didn't want to sleep but you had to. You couldn't run on matze, bread and cheese after all, you laid on your side bringing the scratchy blanket up to your shoulder curling up as you began to drift off. You prayed silently that your dreams would be normal for once.

It was dark for a moment before a light, a brazier near a pillar had lit up beautiful red flames appeared. Then the one across from it lit up, they continued to light up until you could see your surroundings. A long aisle with a red rug down it, small beautiful intricate designs were on it along with a golden lining. Pews lined up near pillars and down the aisle sat an altar, almost like you were at some temple. You tried to speak but no noise came out, you touched your throat trying again to speak to ask where you were, what was happening. You knew he controlled these dreams and you just wanted answers for these dreams. You looked around and began to notice little red lights fading in, as you squinted at them you could make out silhouettes of unrecognizable people. Their bodies all looked to be covered in ash and their eyes bled with a glowing red.

You tried to move but your feet were glued to the ground as if waiting for someone, and as you looked down you noticed your outfit had changed. Your armor gone and replaced by beautiful red robes, you looked to your hands seeing golden rings with jewels on almost every finger. Then you felt eyes on you, as you turned your head you could see the same mask that haunted your dreams. He stood above you his body stretched and unnerving to look at, you two stared at each other in pure silence the only sound being the flames crackling. Then he reached out a long slender hand to you, his nails were sharp and the tips of his fingers were dyed a red color. He only stared waiting for you to take his hand and once you did he stood up straight.

You finally got a view of how tall he was, he was definitely something other worldly as his height towered over you immensely. Everyone stared at you two with emotionless faces, he began to walk and your feet moved with his. People began to appear standing in the pews, what was this supposed to all mean. Was there some secret message behind this? Was he toying with you? You began to hear clapping but no one's hands moved, you began to hear talking but no one's mouth uttered a sound. You felt a tightness in your chest as you two walked getting closer and closer to the altar. There stood a priest but its face was twisted, a large trunk like appendage moved around from its face. Your breathing began to get worse as you looked around some of the faces looked familiar and it hurt your head.

Your head began to pound as you walked, everything seemed so slow. You felt sweat beads appear on your forehead and rolling down your face, you felt your head pounding as if someone was bashing it in repeatedly with a mace, you felt your legs begin to shake as they turned to jelly. You didn't want to be here, you wanted to go home. Home back in Cyrodiil, you wanted your merchant job back, you wanted your run down shack.

You felt the tall beings hand squeeze yours, was he really trying to comfort you in a nightmare he created? He finally stopped just as you both got to the altar, the cheers began to grow louder but no one's face moved from their expressionless gaze. Then he turned to you, moving your face so you'd look at him. His eyes began to glow as he stared at you, five words were spoken and nothing more.

"Come to me sweet Nerevar"

You awoke gasping for air as if you had been choked, you fell out of your bed holding your throat as you coughed. Your eyes bloodshot and your mouth dry, you took a moment on the ground just sitting there trying to compose yourself. Leaning against the side of the bed your breathing went back to normal, the pounding in your head dying down. You looked towards the window, you couldn't delay your prophecy anymore.

Hope y'all like this! I'll be writing more Elder scrolls stuff soon! Requests are always !!