#solravn

[ronkeyroo]

From me to u

Just felt like you deserve some love today!!

💛 from @vilkas

kel you!!! you honey glazed sweetheart awahawaa!!!!!! 🥺😭🧡Thank you so much for sharing the tender lovin!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ✨🔥 Right back at you dear!!!!

[frodo-baggins]

Can I just say…. one of my favorite visual moments in LOTR is when they’re in Rivendell and Frodo and Sam walk by a tree and the leaf gently catches in Frodo’s hair 🥺 I think about that a lot and I didn’t know who else to share my love of it with and you were the first person to come to mind

oh that’s hands down one of my fav shots of frodo in the entire trilogy. like it’s so soft and dreamy. and the lighting is so warm and autumnal. it’s just so gorgeously done 😩😭 and honestly im so honoured you thought of me too 🥺

[reachfolk]

HOWDY! We’re mutuals now! Anyway!!

Firien is my main OC, my Bosmer Last Dragonborn! She’s very angry as a result of trauma but it slowly working on healing! She’s snarky and sassy and has a lot of spark in her. She enjoys sparring, botany, and lighting things on fire. She’s 26 years old currently and she left Valenwood at 15 (if I remember correctly) and slowly made her way through Tamriel to Skyrim. She’s also a Companion and has a white raven friend named Croak! Oh and she hates being the LDB. Not sure if this is relevant?? (or very obvious by my blog lol) but I paired her with Farkas!

Tahir is Firien’s BFF, and a Redguard born into nobility. He found the noble life suffocating and left Hammerfell behind to pursue adventure and met Firien in Helgen, and they’ve been together ever since! He’s more invested in the Companions than she is, and eventually becomes Harbinger. He’s cocky and funny and pretty easy-going about most things. He’s also very promiscuous, confident, and vain. He enjoys the finer things in life and just likes to have a dang good time. He eventually ends up with Vilkas because the best friends dating brothers trope is hilarious to me.

And now I wanna hear about yours!

💛 from @korvanjund

ask game: send me an ask telling me about one of your oc's and i'll tell you how i think they'd get along with my own oc's

aaa hi friend !! ok first off i absolutely adore both ur oc's and i think my main girl alexandria would too ❤ (which is not surprising lol, she's a very agreeable person).

when it comes to firien, i think alexi would be able to handle her really well. even though alexi is only a year older, she would see a little bit of her younger sister in firien (due to their hotheaded nature), and she really likes people like that!! she'd see firien as interesting and fun, and i think her cheery demeanor would balance out firien's more rough (?) vibe, if that makes sense lol. alexi is usually in a playful mood and doesn't take snarky or sarcastic comments very seriously, so she'd just hit back with more banter and keep the tone light and breezy. whether firien finds that irritating as shit or endearing is up to you, it makes no difference to alexi who firmly made up her mind that she likes firien lmao. and if, for whatever reason, firien is having a particularly rough day, alexi knows when to put down her goofy attitude and go all Big Sister mode. she's a good listener and good with conflict mediation in general (thanks to ✨ family trauma ✨) so she'd offer whatever comfort she can.

also, the two def. share some interests so that's a plus! alexi always loves a friendly duel, and as an alchemist, she'd also be interested in botany. she's never been to valenwood, so she'd be SO interested in learning about the flora there. she's a chaotic little shit, so she definitely also has a pyromaniac streak in her lol. you have good ol' sybille stentor to thank for lighting that spark, and alexi would share that dumb story to try to get a laugh out of firien (hell, she'd make it her personal mission to get firien to crack up as many times as possible. she has an endless supply of dumb stories and awful puns)

as for tahir, i feel like he and alexi would get along right away thanks to their somewhat similar backstories! alexi isn't a noble per se and her mixed ancestry kind of muddled how people viewed her, but she is a silver-blood and that's about as close as you can get, ykwim? i think they definitely have an appreciation for the freedom that living on the road gives because they've experienced how suffocating and draining life as a noble can be.

they also have pretty similar personalities, so i think they'd mesh well! alexi is a super playful and loves to goof off, and back when she was living as a noblewoman it was seen as unseemly and inappropriate, but i feel like tahir would enjoy it or even play along. i can definitely see the two of them swapping funny stories and playful banter late into the night over a mug of ale and absolutely cracking up together.

i will say, alexi is also a bit of a prankster, and i feel like poor tahir would be the victim at times, especially after he becomes harbinger. my girlie just finds it too tempting to fuck with authority figures 💀 she would genuinely like him so she'd never go too far, and she'd absolutely apologize if she ever crosses a line. but, yk, she definitely at one point mixed in netch jelly with his fine wine and laughed her ass off when his romantic date night with vilkas ended with both of them toppling over in paralysis for a hot sec. for what it's worth, she's a good sport if he ever decides to mess with her in return. hell, she'd take it as a compliment lol

[lucien-lachance]

❝  it’s late,  you might as well just stay here.  ❞ for Tatiana!!

💛 from @vilkas

I had a couple of ideas for this, but thought I'd take a little trip into Tat's past, so we'll say she's about twenty here, several years before the Oblivion Crisis.

I hope you like it! <3

No warnings, all are welcome~

~ ~ ~

The Vestalis library was austere, all dark, heavy wood offset with a pale marble floor.  A compass rose marked the center of the floor, picked in veiny black and teal stone and as wide as Tatiana was tall.  Suits of antique armor guarded the doors and the hall leading to her father’s study.  Each of the bookcases, whether free standing or along the wall, was shielded by thick glass to discourage dust and nosy hands, every hinge obedient and reverently quiet.  By day, sun poured through the soaring windows.  By night, crystal chandeliers and ornate lamps imported from High Rock lit the desks and sofas.  Despite its intensely formal character, Tatiana had always adored the library, adored its grandeur and stony silence.  Discreetly placed bowls of frost chips kept it cool year-round; yet even that comforted her, like the nip of a late-summer wind promising the relief of autumn.  To the library she’d fled when jealousy of her sister, worries, and frustrations gnawed at her, or when sleep eluded her.  There, to the overstuffed armchair in the corner, she retreated when she needed the quiet.  The solitude.

She could never fall asleep there.  It was too cold and too proper for sleeping.  But she often saw the library in her dreams.  Or rather, she saw the forbidden things she wanted it to have.  The novels and the poetry and the dramatic plays, the gilded, richly illustrated compilations of folktales and fairy-stories, all the things her father called wasteful and inane.  A deep, broad education was vital for a thief straddling the line between noble and criminal, but there was so much more to life than gemology, history, culture, and mathematics.  There were heroes facing down dragons in the garden outside, noble battlemages hunting daedra.  Unicorns clip-clopping across the marble to nose her shoulder, smelling faintly of cinnamon and sugar and vanilla…

Chimes touched her hearing, at first distant and delicate, then sharpening to a tinkling staccato.  Her lashes fluttered as she groggily looked around, just registering the coarse cotton of her sleeve against her cheek.  Then, like a jab from a hot poker, dread raced through her.  This wasn’t the Vestalis library.  This wasn’t home at all.

The chimes ceased.  There was no echo, not in a twenty-by-twenty study.  As if a spell had shattered, the remnants of sleep flaked away like dried plaster.  She knew the shelves lining the walls and the rug beneath her feet, thick and soft as eiderdown.  Familiar scents enveloped her.  Chamomile tea and parchment, worn leather and fresh ink, things always doomed to be lost in the vaulted ceiling of the Vestalis library.  She heaved an annoyed, weary sigh and scrubbed at her dry eyes.  Weary because she’d been out two nights thieving with little more than a handful hours of sleep.  Annoyed because she should’ve known better than to nod off anywhere but home.  Should’ve known better than to get fall asleep to fairytales.

Behind her, Marcano snickered.  She looked over her shoulder; he was still scritch-scratching away in a weathered tome at the table at the center of the room, floppy white quill dancing over his hand like the bird who’d lost it.  Her brows knitted.  Gods, she realized, I haven’t even bathed…  How shabby she must look in this small, but ritzy townhouse, standing there on an antique rug. 

“What a nap that turned out to be,” Marcano greeted, pausing his work to sip his tea.  The cup clinked daintily as he set it back on its saucer.  “I look up to see you reading one moment, and poof, you’re out hardly a moment later.”

Tatiana glanced at the tiny clock on the nearest bookshelf.  Its abalone face seemed somehow derisive, the sweeping woodwork a mocking parody of a shrug.  “It’s after midnight and you didn’t think to wake me?”

He laughed again and grinned, teeth a white crack in his sun-bronzed face.  “Please, you know me better than that.  I’m always thinking, and I was thinking you were sleeping like a worn-out kitten.  Thieves need rest, too.  Particularly those who get in and out of the Tiber Septim Hotel’s safety deposit box.”     

Tatiana’s throat tightened.  She’d come to fence her goods and rest briefly before heading home, not sleep for over three hours on a book of fantasy.  She’d abused the Pagani’s hospitality.  Mother and Father had expected her home before eight this evening, too.  By now, they were undoubtedly pacing the library with steam billowing out their ears, and Father’s thieves would be combing the alleys, taverns, and underground for her.  Missing curfew was one thing.  Missing nighttime tea with Mother was another.  Missing both was another entirely.  Antonia could slip away with that, being a butterfly that thrived in the spotlight, but Tatiana couldn’t.  Alongside their mother, Antonia maintained and grew the family’s social connections, plying more information than tangible goods.  Tatiana shined behind the scenes, where a colder, quieter, more calculated hand was needed.  Their father held the twins on a tight leash, but Tatiana’s had always been tighter.  Because he disliked her or because he saw her potential as a thief and heir and thus expected more of her, she didn’t know.  Parsing through it made her head hurt, so she didn’t bother.

If he didn’t dislike her before, he sure as Oblivion would now.

She casting about for her socks and boots but found only the usual sea of parchment, books, and scraps of Marcano’s works-in-progress.  They must still be by the door.  The woolen blanket on her shoulders slipped to the floor as she turned.  Nocturnal spare her, she was so tired she hadn’t even noticed it until now.  They brought me a blanket.  They didn’t have to do that.  “I have to go,” she murmured.

“Of course you don’t,” he replied.  Watching her with soft hazel eyes, he put his quill aside and kneaded tension from his hand.  His silk robe glimmered in the lamplight, its yellow and black checkers as good a wake-up call as the clock had been.  Maybe it was the late hour or the shadows or her fatigue, but something carved years into his lean face and lent him an almost grandfatherly air, a shocking contrast to the shrewd negotiator who relieved her of stolen jewelry, trinkets, and art, then mercilessly critiqued the poetry in the day’s Black Horse Courier.  Without its wax his mustache drooped over his mouth, looking as tired as she felt.  “It’s quite late, you know.  You might as well stay here.  Leave now, and it’ll be an hour before you make home.”

She hesitated, then shook her head.  “Marcano, I can’t.  If nothing else, it’s improper.  You’re my fence-,”

“And your friend.”

“And my friend.”  She forced a smile and rubbed her eyes again.  Her cheeks burned, albeit for an entirely different reason.  Her smile dropped like a stone.  “But…a young woman coming and going from your house, then suddenly staying overnight?  People will talk.  People in and out of the guild.  I can’t do that to you and your wife.”  And to my family either.  Marcano only laughed—actually laughed.  The fire spread down her neck.  “I’m serious.”

“As am I!” he said, shoulders still shaking as he caught his breath.  He wiped away an errant tear and met her gaze.  “A lesson for you, Tat: worry what every little person thinks of every little thing you do, and you’ll do little more than worry.  Livia and I live for gossip, and your father does not.  Anything that springs up, we’ll prune before he knows it’s sprouted.”

Tatiana rubbed the side of her neck and chewed her lip.  She looked to the bookshelves, then the table crowded with paper and open books, the taxidermy hawk on the wall, and her bare feet, finding no comfortable place for her gaze to rest.  Marcano’s library was everything the Vestalis one wasn’t.  For starters, it was a cozy nook in comparison.  There was no fireplace.  There were no crystal chandeliers that twinkled in the feeblest of light.  The lamps on the table and hooked into sconces were fine, but plainer and their glass smoke-stained.  The thick, once-wildly expensive rug upon which she’d slept hid scuffed floorboards, its blue and gold whorls faded in bars where sun barged through the windows.  Unlike the variety of sofas and reading tables at in the Vestalis library, only four chairs crammed around an oblong table here, two of which were heaped with books.   The shelves were smaller, simpler, and without glass.  It was a librarian’s nightmare, the books shelved in different places every time she visited, and with ever-changing gaps in the stacks as Marcano and his wife read, reread, and added to their collection. 

Here, she felt she could slouch and laugh and lounge to her heart’s content.  Here, she could sleep.  And here, she realized with a dull ache in her chest, was the home she never realized she didn’t have.

Worry must’ve tightened her face, for Marcano pounced on her silence like a cat taking a mouse.  He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, salt-and-pepper tendrils of hair swaying across his forehead.  “You know, Livia made up the guest room for you before she turned in.  The bath should still be hot, too.  It would hardly do as hosts and temporary guardians to let you wander the city at night.”

Tatiana was glad she had her eyes down; it gave her the cover to blink away the tears.  Beyond her family—sometimes within her family—no one had been so kind to her before, not without orders, duty, or notions of personal gain in mind, anyway.  How did she even respond to such kindness?  Her mind blanked, so she did what she did best.  Yank on her sardonic mask and hope for the best.  “It’s the Elven Gardens district,” she drawled.  “That’s about the closest thing to safe as you get in the City.  I’d be fine.”

Marcano stood, smoothed down the front of his robe, and stepped around the edge of the table.  It was a monumental effort to look away from his slippers, which looked like blocky rabbits.  “Safety’s where all of the best criminals hide, child.  Remember that,” he said with a wink.  He waved her to the door and the dark hall beyond.  “There’s no need to worry about going home to a lecture or having dessert taken from you or anything.  I sent my footman to your house shortly after you fell asleep.  Cassius and I are old friends, you know.  He knows where you are and is pleased you’re safe.  Oh, don’t look so doubtful.”  He fished a square of parchment from his breast pocket.  “I have his letter if you wish to read it for yourself.”

Tatiana bit her lip again, this time to stifle a yawn.  A bath and a warm, clean bed.  Safety.  Care.  Marcano and his wife had become her friends over the last year, certainly, yet all these things sat before her like unexpected gifts.  And there she sat staring dumbly at them, too stunned to know what to say.  “Thank you,” she managed, and quietly despised how weak and raspy it sounded.

Grinning, Marcano swept his hand through the air, and the library plunged into darkness just as the lamps in the foyer flared to life.  The lacquered paneling and twisting staircase shined behind him.  “There’s no need to thank me.  This is what family does for each other.”

[knightfuryvawannabee]

Got tagged in a last line by Kel, aka @vilkas

I don’t have many people to tag; so I’m gonna invite this to whoever wants to join.

I AM working on the ask prompts, I’m just a bit caught on time with work and college 😅

————

But all the same, she knew how hard it was to see even the possibility of losing one's family. She just wished she could help more.

[knightfuryvawannabee]

😬 for Shodara?

💛 @vilkas

Thanks for the ask, Kel!! @vilkas

“Draw your OC in something they would never wear.”

————

“I don’t see how you’re able to wear these damned things, Shoda…”

“Well for one, I don’t wear mine so tight that I nearly asphyxiate myself…now will you please hold still so I can finish undoing these hooks?”

Shodara wouldn’t ever wear a corset, at least for long periods of time, because the few times she did, she tightened them too much.

[knightfuryvawannabee]

💕 - love headcanon for both Shoda and Shodara!

💛 from @vilkas

Thanks for the ask, Kel!! @vilkas

So for Shoda, she tends to be a lot more subtle with how she expresses love, at least in a romantic sense. Think like, secret hand holds, little smiles when in public, giving a flower or two. She tries to keep things so subtle because she’s worried someone will use the fact that she’s in love with someone against her. But that said, when she falls for someone, she pretty much falls head over heels. So when she feels safe enough to, she’ll always say “yes my love?” Or “yes dear?”

She shows that she loves Shodara as a sister by doing what she can to protect her when she can. She also challenges certain laws, and tries to push for reformation.

For Shodara, she tends to express romantic love in a much more open way. She knows she’s already wanted in several holds, so she doesn’t see a point in hiding the fact she’s in a relationship. So she’ll often say things such as “can you please get that potion off the shelf for my husband here?”

Shodara shows that she loves her sister in a…much different way. She’s basically the one to say “if you’re coming to me someone must’ve REALLY pissed you off. So, who’s body am I hiding and where?”.

And the two will absolutely throw almost all morals out the window of each other, or their loved ones are in danger.

[cronusamporaofficial]

25 in pen for the handwriting asks!

💛 @vilkas

ID in alt text

I don't drink anything but water lol

Handwriting Asks