A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): he let's you stay close to him as he returns to his 'research' ,he’ll let you place your head on his lap and play with your hair as you drift off to sleep
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he loves your mouth, will trace his fingers over your lips before every kiss, or simply shove them into your mouth for you to wet, getting distracted by the warmth and the way your tongue circles each digit as you look up at him
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): definitely has a breeding kink, always growls about the possibility of knocking you up right as he is about to cum, telling you to be good for him and not let anything leak out
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): his imagination runs quite wild, has some fantasies that he sometimes brings up in the form of dirty talk but so far hasn’t actually sat you down to discuss about fulfilling them , some include using some magic on you, maybe some of the stuff he has learned throughout his time under hermaeus mora and some of fucking you as a group of his followers watch
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): he has a lot of experience, he is the first dragonborn , and even without the big title and ego, he has been alive for so long, this man fucked and still fucks
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): you on your knees or bent over some surface, your legs and arms restrained so he has full access to your body, his hands bruising your hips
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he is definitely more serious, he can be quite intense and he does enjoy the way he can make you nervous, he’ll chuckle about how you are scared but your body still reacts to him
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): he is very hairy but keeps himself surprisingly tidy
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): he can be quite the charmer, he enjoys a bit of a classical courtship sometimes, playfully trying to woo you, wants to play the role of finally winning you over before he has his way with you
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): he’d much rather have someone else to help him but if he can’t , he likes to take his time , does some light edging on himself and thinks of how he'd like your next meeting to go, how he’ll have you scream for him
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): bdsm, praise and degradation etc
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): has no shame, after being in apocrypha for so long where privacy probably wasn’t much of a thing he just got used to being watched, would honestly not care if someone walked in on you
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): submission, he wants to see you kneel for him, wants you to expose yourself for him and plead, leave yourself at his mercy
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): not much he couldn't be convinced into trying at least once with the right wording
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): loves cock warming , loves having you on your knees simply letting you do your thing for hours before he remembers you are there and thrusts up in the heat of your mouth
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): it really depends ,he is definitely rougher, but whether he goes slowly or not is up to his mood
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): wants to take his time with you , he has nothing but time in his hand, hates being rushed
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): he generally knows what he likes but is more than happy to indulge your interests every now and then
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): he has a lot of stamina and a lot of pent up frustration to burn out
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): wants to watch you use various toys on yourself, things he bought or made for you, telling you exactly how to use them and constantly stopping you right as you get close to finishing because he wants to make you cum himself
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): can be quite mean with his teasing in and out of bed
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): he does not stay silent, he groans deeply and speaks a lot ,no reason to keep quite, he wants you to hear how much he is enjoying himself
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): he is surprisingly sensitive, loves when you rake your nails over his chest or when you drag your teeth over his throat, he always has to restrain you just so he can keep more of a semblance of control, otherwise he gets lost in the pleasure of your touch
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): i wish i could say he is compensating for something with that ego of his, but its big and it curves slightly
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): he has a really high sex drive but has a very good grasp on his needs, always weighs his options, does he want you right now, or does he want to wait for later in the night so he can take his time
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): i don't think he sleeps very well in general, he'd never admit so but having somebody next to him definitely helps a lot
“Not yet, my sweet.” he teased as his kisses trailed her neck and to her soft lips. He went swiftly from soft to hard, leaving deep purple marks against her neck and throat. He nipped at her lips, and she groaned against his mouth as he deepened the kiss. He took her moan as an invitation, and a hand slid down from her hip to between her legs. Teasingly he parted her lower lips, and she gasped as he slid a finger into her. A sound escaped her lips, and he laughed softly against her as he broke the kiss, leaving her reeling. she buried her face into his shoulder.
“My Gods,” he murmured into her ear, curling his finger. “You seem to be enjoying this.”
She let out a soft moan against his skin, leaning into him. He moved inside her again, another teasing finger, sounds escaped her that she never knew she could make. He kept her like this for a while. Moving inside her; teasing her; praising her; whispering things to her, she had never imagined a man saying; beautiful, awful things. If he were a God, she would've fallen to her knees and worshiped him. She moved her hips with him, trying to bring herself closer and closer to the edge. He quickened his pace and she shuttered in both body and mine. She clung to him now. holding fast against him clinging to him as if her life depended on it. She was nearing the edge, to sweet cataclysm. Suddenly he stopped. She was reeling. She could not speak, only let out a soft whimper as he stroked her hair gently, whispering to her sweet assurances.
“Hush my sweet.” He whispered softly in her ear "You’ve done so well for me…"
He took a moment's pause and met her eyes. "May I?" his voice was gentle and soft.
"of course…" she nodded and without hesitation he seized her by the hips and brought her down onto him with fierce urgency. Another primal sound escaped her mouth. She was his now. and he was hers. He took her with an aching urgency pounding hard into her. Each thrust sent her shuttering. She moved with him trying again to move herself closer and closer to the edge. She felt his hand slip between her tights, he touched her. She shuddered as he teased her, fucking her as intensely as he had before. She gasped and clung to him, pressing her forehead against his. He praised her again and whispered softly to her.
“That’s it my sweet…come for me…” His words edged her closer and closer to sweet oblivion. But it was his eyes that sent her over, the deep blue burned through her as he tilted her head up to meet his eyes. Though she had only just learned his name, it spilled from her lips over and over again as she broke apart around him. A moment later he shuttered into her, going deep and holding her against him. In the aftermath, she realized that most of the revelers had passed out around them. He looked down at her soft virtually naked body with half opened eyes. His fingers tangled in her hair and he held her against him. Softly he kissed her forehead and for the first time, Alysia felt like she belonged.
“Well,” Martin smiled down at her. And pressed another kiss on her forehead “Welcome to the cult of sanguine my sweet…”
She nuzzled into his chest before drifting off to sleep to the sound of his heart beating. For the first time in her life Alysia felt strangely safe in the arms of this stranger.
I think I’ll do a long post with all parts together if you’d be interested….
Deep within the forest near Skingrad, Alysia Jade walked with fear and curiosity coursing through her veins. Her bare feet broke branches with each footfall. The two moons hung high over her head, lighting the twisting path deep into the black wood of Cyrodiil. It was a week after her 16th name day, and she desperately searched for an escape from her life. She had heard from friends in the mages guild the near-mad revelers drinking and fucking in the name of the Deadric Lord of Revelry. She was nearing the cult now; part of her knew these people, in this place, could be her way out. Her mother had told her that night that she was to marry the cruel son of a low noble in Hammerfell the next fortnight. She had refused the offer and had taken, by foot, to the forest. She was closer now; She could smell the thick scent of smoke and wine, and through the trees, she could see the bright blaze of fire in the distance and hear the faint shouting and music of revelers. Their shadows danced through the trees like ghosts as she ventured closer and closer to them. The tree line broke into a large clearing, where a crowd of bodies danced and swayed in delight around a tremendous blazing fire set before the feet of the statue of Sanguine himself. Upon Breaching the treeline, She was immediately immersed in a strange world of vulgar hedonism. All around her, bodies swayed and moved in orgiastic delight. Some were utterly naked or wore only flowers wreathing their heads, while others were fully dressed. Laughter and music flooded her senses. The smell of wine and heavy drink hung so thick in the air that breathing seemed intoxicating. A plump young woman clothed in only wreaths of flowers draped her in a chain of dried flowers and pressed against her lips a bottle of the finest cyridiilic brandy Alysia had ever tasted. The woman only laughed and took her by the wrist, dragging her into the mass of bodies dancing and kissing and drinking and fucking.
She was immediately overwhelmed, drowning in the strange new sensations around her. The lines between her senses blurred, and she lost herself to the crowd. Hands touched her all over, and drink passed her lips over and over. Her mind swam with loose thoughts like lucid dreams. She could not think, could not breathe, could not stand. Her knees buckled beneath her. Her knees hit the ground, and pain shot up her legs. And the whole world began to spin. The ground rushed to meet her. A rough hand seized her by the arm, pulling her from the sea of bodies. She looked up fearfully. Part of her was terrified of who or what had caught her. Her eyes were met by the sight of a naked young man washed in the firelight, glistening with sweat. His long brown hair was a perfectly chaotic mess. He was a little older than she was. He looked like a god, lean and youthful, dressed in nothing but gold jewelry and firelight, with bright blue eyes that burned through her despite them being severely bloodshot. He was a beautiful and terrifying god.
“Are you alright, little one?” he asked, pulling her to her feet. His voice seemed almost amused by her state. She flushed at his state and avoided meeting his eyes. He stood unashamed and relaxed in his gold jewelry with a great staff in the shape of a rose resting on his shoulder.
"I-I'm fine.." She nodded, Turning her head away from him, trying to avoid the nakedness of his body and find the words to thank him.
“Do you have a name, girl?” He said, laughing at her perceived innocence. He draped himself over a lounging chaise near the statue of Sanguine.
She nodded and followed him. Standing before him, he looked even more divine than the statue of the deadric prince of debauchery he lay before. Alysia could feel her heart drop into her stomach. As she began to piece together who he was. From the Rose Staff to how he carried himself with absolute authority, she could see He was the Champion of Sanguine. She had been so sure that she wanted this, but now standing before this man, this living god laid out before her, she was unsure. Some of her wanted to flee to run home and throw herself at her mother's feet, but in the same breath, she knew she couldn't go back; she needed to see this horrible plan through. She steeled herself before him, trying hard not to show any fear or hesitation.
“My name is Alysia Jade…."She forced herself to meet his cold blue eyes. His lips turned up into a damning smile, but those eyes remained fixed on her.
"And what can I do for you, Miss Alysia?"
she swallowed her fear and decided then and there that she could not turn back. She would not turn back.
"I want to join the cult of Sanguine." her eyes did not leave his. He raised an eyebrow and laughed at her. Her face burned with embarrassment, but she refused to look away from him. she would not. No, she could not back down now. His laughter faded as his eyes met hers again. He seemed almost predatory, like a cat toying with a mouse.
"What could you possibly have to offer, Sanguine or me?" his words dripped with honey and condescension that sent chills over her skin. She steeled herself again. Realizing in full just how out of her depth she was. She stood before the Champion of a god in nothing but her night dress. She had nothing to offer him. No wine or brandy, no gold or jewels. She had nothing. She was a maiden of 16 with nothing to her but the clothes on her back and looking down, this blue-eyed God sent chills down her back. Her body trembled at the thought of what would happen to her. She knew her original plan. She knew exactly what she had to offer, but she dreaded what might happen if she offered it. The only thing she had to her person. The only thing that would guarantee her mother couldn’t marry her off to the first noble with enough money to buy her family out of destitution. If she went through this, her body would have no value to any noble. She weighed her options over in her mind before making her decision. His blue eyes burned into her, and she made her decision.
“I can give you myself,” she spoke boldly. The man’s eyes widened with surprise, and she saw him falter momentarily. She took small pleasure in taking him off guard. He regained himself at the exact moment, and a broad smile spread across his face.
“You’re not serious, my sweet.” he purred, moving from reclining to sitting, his body language spoke of challenge, and his eyes set her ablaze, and she felt a strange sense of spite replace her fear. She steeled her nerves. She gathered her skirts up and hitched them above her knees, and with all the courage she could muster, she took three bold steps to stand before him. He looked up at her and leaned back. She moved awkwardly to throw a knee over him and moved into his lap, hitching the fine silk of her night dress up around her waist. She let the fabric fall and bare skin press against bare skin as she leaned into him.
“I…can assure you,” she tried to sound as sure of this as she felt, “I am dead serious.”
Again he faltered, and his cold eyes softened; she felt heat rise between her thighs as his body betrayed him, and his cock grazed the bare skin of her thigh. Her face burned hot as his hands danced delicately at her hips.
“Martin.” His voice was soft and almost sounded far away. She was stunned. He paid no attention to the debauchery surrounding them; it seemed as though it was just him and her.
“W-what…” her voice shook with nervousness. His eyes met hers, a lovely shade of blue cast with gold in the light of the blazing fire. They reminded her of the waters of Niben Bay at sunset when the blue waters shimmered gold with the light of the dying sun.
“My name,” he said, hands gently running around her hips, “I thought it only fair that you should know.”
“Oh…” her cheeks flushed, and they moved closer to one another “thank you…Martin…”
Martin drew her into him and pressed a soft kiss against her neck. Her breath hitched, and the meeting of her thighs stirred with want. She felt him twitch against her as his gentle hands hardened and his grip on her hips tightened. A soft groan escaped her as he pulled her closer to him still. She could feel his cock press against the heat of her body. She moved to take him into her, but his grip on her hips tightened, stopping her from moving. She softly groaned as he held her on the edge of no return.
“Not yet, my sweet.” he teased as his kisses trailed her neck and to her soft lips. He went swiftly from soft to hard, leaving deep purple marks against her neck and throat. He nipped at her lips, and she groaned against his mouth as he deepened the kiss. He took her moan as an invitation, and a hand slid down from her hip to between her legs. Teasingly he parted her lower lips, and she gasped as he slid a finger into her. A sound escaped her lips, and he laughed softly against her as he broke the kiss, leaving her reeling. she buried her face into his shoulder.
“My Gods,” he murmured into her ear, curling his finger. “You seem to be enjoying this.”
She let out a soft moan against his skin, leaning into him. He moved inside her again, another teasing finger, and sounds escaped her that she never knew she could make. He kept her like this for a while. Moving inside her; teasing her; praising her; whispering things to her, she had never imagined a man saying; beautiful, awful things. If he were a God, she would've fallen to her knees and worshiped him. She moved her hips with him, trying to bring herself closer and closer to the edge. He quickened his pace, and she shuttered in both body and mine. She clung to him now. Holding fast against him, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. She was nearing the edge of sweet cataclysm. Suddenly he stopped. She was reeling. She could not speak, only letting out a soft whimper as he stroked her hair gently, whispering to her sweet assurances.
“Hush, my sweet.” He whispered softly in her ear, "You’ve done so well for me…."
He took a moment's pause and met her eyes. "May I?" his voice was gentle and soft.
"of course…" she nodded, and without hesitation, he seized her by the hips and brought her down onto him with fierce urgency. Another primal sound escaped her mouth. She was his now. And he was hers. He took her with an aching urgency pounding hard into her. Each thrust sent her shuttering. She moved with him, trying again to move closer and closer to the edge. She felt his hand slip between her tights as he touched her. She shuddered as he teased her, fucking her as intensely as he had before. She gasped and clung to him, pressing her forehead against his. He praised her again and whispered softly to her.
“That’s it, my sweet…come for me….” His words edged her closer and closer to sweet oblivion. But it was his eyes that sent her over; the deep blue burned through her as he tilted her head up to meet his eyes. Though she had only just learned his name, it spilled from her lips over and over again as she broke apart around him. A moment later, he shuttered into her, going deep and holding her against him. In the aftermath, she realized that most of the revelers had passed out around them. He looked down at her soft, virtually naked body with half-opened eyes. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he held her against him. Softly he kissed her forehead, and for the first time, Alysia felt like she belonged.
“Well,” Martin smiled down at her. And pressed another kiss on her forehead. “Welcome to the cult of sanguine, my sweet….”
She nuzzled into his chest before drifting off to sleep to the sound of his heart beating. For the first time in her life, Alysia felt strangely safe in a stranger's arms.
She awoke to the light of the morning sun breaking the dawn. She and Martin were curled up on the chaise lounge. She was surprised to find him holding her against him. Gently, she untangled herself from his arms; she had expected this to last until dawn. She expected to wake and find him gone… yet there he was.
She took a moment to survey her surroundings; it seemed like most of the revelers were still unconscious, and the few that were conscious moved with the unsteadiness of a hangover. Slowly her eyes fell back to him, her new companion? Now in the light of Dawn, everything was different, the mystery of the night before was gone. He was now a young man, and nothing else. no longer was he the god she had given herself to the night before. She didn’t seem to mind that though.
In fact, part of her liked the young boy that lay sleeping beside her. He was very beautiful, she thought. He was young, probably in his twenties, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun. His hair fell in beautiful, brown waves that cascaded down around his face and across the pillow. Instinctively she reached to brush a stray strand from his face. He stirred, and his eyes opened, a flash of that same intense blue, He smiled Before speaking.
“You’re still here!” He spoke with a soft excitement “I thought you would leave me before dawn…”
She blushed as he reached up and brushed his fingertips over her cheek, as though he needed to assure that she was real, and not a figment of imagination. She cleared her throat.
“Funny,” she mused gently, running her fingers across his chest. “I thought the same of you…”
He laughed softly, taking her hand in his, and bringing it to his lips.
“ I wouldn’t do that…” he whispered
“I know…” she murmured almost to herself. It was starting to Dawn on her. Just how strange the entire situation was… this man was a complete stranger to her; yet he was kind and gentle when she needed him to be. some part of her trusted him, despite having only just met him. She knew she did not love him, but she did like him. His company was pleasant, and she welcomed it.
She wondered what this meant for her now. Would she stay here with this man she barely knew? Would she return home disgraced? Part of her worried that her mother would come looking for her…She must’ve knit her brow or made some face in her thoughts because Martin took her hand.
“Are you alright Alysia?”
“I’m alright,” she sighed and looked away from him. “ I'm just nervous, I guess I’m unsure of what’s going to happen…after last night…”
she felt him squeeze her hand. It was a strange comfort, one she was appreciative of. He took his time before speaking and spent a long while just holding her hand, silently reassuring her.
“ Well,” he began, “If you’ve nowhere to go, I wouldn’t mind the company. assuming you don’t get cold feet over the cult dealings…”
she thought about it for a moment and then nodded. Thus began her interesting relationship with Martin. At first, she spent only the evenings with him, spending most of her days with other members of the cult, dancing, and drinking. only coming home to fall into bed and do it all again the next day. Some nights they would share the bed spending all evening tangled up in the sheets together, other nights they slept separately, one of them would sleep in the bed, the other on sofas or chairs. Eventually , they would become friends, not lovers but friends. Alysia noticed early on that he took no other women into his bed but her, and whether intentional or not, she did the same taking no man but him. Slowly the nights that they slept separately became few and far between. slowly he would start calling her My sweet or my love… Slowly the two of them would become friends and lovers… from that point they stayed at each other's side through thick and thin…. At least they did until it all came crashing down.….
I will be writing more about how Alysia and Martin got to this point and what happens after this. So ✨stay tuned✨
