#attius | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kookaburra1701 · 7 months

Text

WIP Wednesday - A Line-storm Song

tagged by @elfinismsarts @thana-topsy 💚 @viss-and-pinegar @thequeenofthewinter

I am tagging @gilgamish @greyborn2 @dirty-bosmer @skyrim-forever @totally-not-deacon @mareenavee @paraparadigm @polypolymorph

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Genre: Old👏Men👏Yaoi👏 Pairing: Pavo Attius/Gat gro-Shargakh

Summary: Pavo and Gat weather a spring storm in the Reach.

My brain has revolted against only working on Aristeia during NaNoWriMo and I compromised by working on this one-shot which takes place in the same 'verse. I needed to let these two Married Forever guys fuck. And oh boy are they. Excerpt below is not explicit.

-------------

“Rain’s coming,” Gat said, leaning against the smelter as Pavo stepped out of the shadows of Kolskeggr mine. Pavo blinked a little in the late afternoon sun. The golden rays were illuminating white pillars of clouds in the east, only the deep purple shadows beneath them hinting at the possibility of inclement weather.

“I suppose I’ll do the evening chores early then,” Pavo said, moving to stand next to Gat. “Get Juniper settled before the tempest.”

Gat slipped his arm around Pavo’s waist, and Pavo leaned into his comforting bulk. Even after twenty years, his touch never failed to send a thrill down Pavo’s spine.

“I’ll finish up here, get everything secured against the wind,” Gat said against Pavo’s ear, his large tusks tracing the corner of Pavo’s jaw.

“Gat, I’m disgusting, at least wait until I’ve rinsed off!” Pavo yelped as Gat turned and took hold of him with both hands, pulling him close.

“Mmmm, if a little mine dust was a problem—” Gat buried his face in Pavo’s neck while Pavo laughed and tried to push him away. “—I don’t think my people would be nearly as numerous as they are.” He gave Pavo’s neck a final nip before releasing him.

“You’re insatiable,” grumbled Pavo. When he turned to head down the path to their cottage, Gat’s laughter followed him.

The chickens allowed him to drive them into their coop with the bribe of some kitchen scraps, but Juniper, their mule, brayed her protest when he came to collect her from her picket, despite the bucket of oats and corn he rattled at her.

“I know it’s early old girl. But you’ll be glad of the roof and walls tonight, mark my words. Don’t go kicking them down if the thunder gets loud, now.”

As he puttered around the small barn, Pavo heard the front door to the cottage open and shut several times. As he was filling the water trough, Gat appeared in the doorway, wearing a clean shirt with water droplets clinging to the fuzz of his shaved head.

“I left a towel and some clean clothes by the river for you,” Gat said.

“Oh? I thought the dirt was an Orc aphrodisiac,” Pavo said archly. “I’m getting mixed messages here.”

“Smelling like ore is one thing, smelling like Juniper is another.”

“Don’t listen to him Juniper, you smell wonderful.”

Gat laughed, and turned to leave. “I’ll get supper started. Don’t take too long—hey!” He whirled and Juniper brayed and tossed her head at his shout. Pavo just grinned back at him, trying to look entirely innocent and like someone who would never dream of pinching an Orc’s arse.

Shaking his finger at Pavo, and walking backwards until he was well out of range, Gat retreated back to the cottage.

#kolskeggr mine #fic: a line-storm song #pavo attius #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim #tesblr #wip wednesday #kb writes #orc posting hours #it's not easy being green #orc #hot orc summer #hot orc always #gat gro-shargakh

38 notes · View notes

thana-topsy · 11 months

Text

First Lines!

Tagged by @mareenavee - thank you, my dear!

I tag @kookaburra1701 @dirty-bosmer and @greyborn2

Tag the first lines/first paragraph of three of your current works in progress!

I feel like I've shared most of my current wips to death over the past few weeks, so I'm going to pick three wips that probably won't see the light of day for a very long time, if ever.

"An Account of Artaeum"

(A journal-style fic detailing Nilandur's time as a Psijic)

Fifth of First Seed, 4E 169 – My Arrival

The Isle of Artaeum was described to me many times in my youth, treated as something half myth, half history. A full account of the history of the Psijic Order was one of the Five Pillars of Altmeri education (before the events of the Void Nights), but it had been widely phased out by the time I entered university due to the Thalmor’s rigorous re-education guidelines. Despite this, the legends and lore of the Psijics lived on as part of our rich and varied history, even as the likelihood of their return to Nirn grew dimmer and dimmer with each passing decade. Never in my life could I have predicted their attentions might have been turned to me.

"Arvel the Hero"

(A thought experiment fic in which Arvel the Swift doesn't get hit by that swinging trap gate, but the LDB does. Uhhhh.... I'm gonna include more than just the first paragraph because it's my blog and I do what I want).

As soon as Arvel pulled free from the last of the frost spider’s webbing, he bolted.

The man who’d cut him down let out a shout of surprise. “Hey! Get back here you slippy shit!”

Fool, Arvel thought with a grin. Why should I share the treasure with anyone? And by the look of his rescuer (and his sour-faced Dunmer companion), they didn’t seem like the type too keen on sharing either. Harknir, Bjorn, and Soling were as good as dead.

His feet pounded against the stone floor as he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He skidded around a corner and through another hall of burial chambers. The slope of the floor carried him faster, almost too fast. He skidded around a large pillar, hooking his fingers into the rock to swing himself around the bend, gaining more momentum. His pursuers were hot on his tail, the clank of their armor close. He sprinted ahead, moving too fast to notice the raised stone plate in the floor until he was on top of it. A trap!

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as his foot landed on the very edge of the pressure plate, and for a split second Arvel thought he’d managed to step around it. Then it sank beneath his weight, immediately followed by a clunk and a groan as the trapped gate unlocked. His step faltered, his joints locking up with fear, and he teetered precariously between moving forward and falling down. The spiked gate was swinging towards him with a shriek like a wounded beast. It would kill him. He would die in this gods-forsaken crypt.

Fueled solely by an animalistic will to survive, he leaned into his off-balance momentum and sprung sideways, diving headfirst into an open crypt. A skeleton clattered and crunched beneath his hip as the massive gate missed his outstretched foot by only a few inches. There was a scream, cut short by a wet thunk, and Arvel watched from the crypt as the spiked gate slowly swung back into place, its spikes stained red and glistening in the low torchlight.

“Shit!” He let out a hysterical laugh that trailed off into a wheeze. “Oh shit…” The trap had taken his pursuer out. What luck!

"Send Your Child Unto Me"

(Working title, lol. My Dark Brotherhood fic that I'll probably be picking away at for years to come at this point lol).

Caius returned to consciousness slowly.

His head felt like it had been split down the middle, pounding in time with his pulse and sending bursts of electricity deep into his eye sockets. He groaned, if only to prove to himself that he wasn’t dead–that he could still make noise. As he opened his eyes, the room materialized in a blur of nauseating angles. Dried drool plastered the side of his cheek and his right arm had gone numb beneath his own body weight. He made a gurgling, frustrated sound as he attempted to move, flattening his hand against the ground in an attempt to push himself upright.

Wooden floor.

The air around him was stagnant and foul-smelling, like piss and sweat. There were noises, but everything sounded as if Caius’ head were under water.

“Well, well, good morning.”

#topsy writes #random wips #topsy's ocs #nilandur #caius attius #arvel the swift #skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #tesblr #tag game

24 notes · View notes

nientedenada · 6 months

Text

The Peasant Princess Rewritten (by an Actual Peasant)

Developed from asks originally on @norieleanduril into a post for r/teslore. I rewrite one of my least favourite ESO stories.

Preface by Alys Thierry, Scholar of Breton folklore.

Some years ago, before the War, I enjoyed the rare privilege of making a journey into Valenwood as an interpreter of Aldmeri languages for the Imperial envoy, Falco Attius. As a student of folklore, I was excited to speak with the locals about their regional tales and customs. Sadly, very few Dominion citizens felt comfortable enough to speak to an Imperial stranger. I should have expected that. There were few times that we were not accompanied by a pleasant but uninformative justiciar.

I had some rare successes with a handful of mer who were either daring enough to brave our justiciar's glares or so unobservant they did not notice them. Most memorable among the latter group was an Altmer footsoldier stationed in Falinesti who not only answered my inquiries but a few days later slipped me a letter to further elaborate on his answers.

This curious document was written in the common dialect of the Isles, consistent with the author's peasant-class background, but is peppered with more formal words and expressions. It would seem the author is imitating more erudite authors, with questionable success. I do hope the author was not punished for his association with me. He was very helpful in expanding my understanding of Altmer culture outside the hallowed halls of academia or court.

_____________________________________ Most Honoured Nebarra Lady,

You asked me if the mer of Summerset actually enjoy stories like The Peasant Princess and I was sorry to say I had never heard of it. But after we spoke, I went looking in an old library and found it. It's a very old play and indubitably one of the worst stories I've ever perused. It begins with a beautiful young servant girl whose mistress dresses her up as a princess to go to a ball. There, she meets a Kinlord who falls for her, and then when she tells him she's not actually a princess, he rants at her for tricking him. Then she realizes she should just be a servant, because her family are servants. The End. No wonder I never heard of this story before.

Sure, this is how it might happen in real life. But that doesn't make it a good story! I suppose this play was commissioned by some smug official to try to show the public a good moral exemplar. Town-reeves always put on the worst public entertainment.

The tales the common people actually enjoy back home are stories about clever farmers or labourers who run circles around their landlords and priests.

So, I have decided it would be meritorious to rewrite this play’s ending so that it may educate the reader in full about our traditional Altmer culture.

I'm keeping this part:

Narrator: So great was Virenire's beauty, she caught the eye of the young prince. Forgetting all decorum, he went over to her and asked for a dance. And so the prince and the servant girl danced for a good portion of the night.

Prince: I've never seen such a beautiful mer. Tell me, who are your parents?

Virenire: Oh, dear prince, I feel I must be honest. My parents are poor peasants, and I but a serving girl to a wealthy mistress.

Narrator: Gazing upon the beautiful eyes of such an entrancing mer, the good Prince came to a startling realization.

Prince: Why, I've been tricked! Here I thought you were a noble mer of good standing, who I might court and one day wed. But you are a mere servant girl.

Now, this prince isn't going to marry a servant girl, of course, that would never happen. And he isn't a nice person, anyway, claiming she tricked him when she told him the truth the moment he asked. We need a better ending here. Virenire needs to use her brains and get what she deserves. It's time for her to turn in her Mistress.

See, the reason Virenire is at the Ball dressed up as a princess is that her Mistress wanted to show her how abject and low-class she was, even if she wore a beautiful dress. She was set up to fail by a woman who didn't care about her or the Prince’s feelings. But the main character of a fairy tale should be quick-witted, so here's my new edition of her response.

Virenire: Oh dear prince, I would never have dared trick you. I am only here at my Mistress' command. If she designed a slight against you, forgive me my ignorance. I am just a simple serving girl who knows her place and does as her lady tells her.

The prince then takes out his anger on that viper Lady Teryldil, who is called away to the capital to face the displeasure of the Prince’s Kinship. Virenire keeps all the jewels and the dress, which she later uses as a dowry to marry a decent young man she'd already had her eye on.

The story is now greatly improved, and think I will petition the village puppeteer to do a performance next time I'm home in Auridon.

You also wanted to know if there was a Valenwood version of this story. I asked my Spinner friend Galethor, since he is a master of all Valenwood lore. He says he has never heard such a story but if it was set in Valenwood, the serving girl would reveal to the prince that she is a long-lost offshoot of the Camoran family, the prince would marry her to secure his claim, and together they’d start a new Civil War for the throne at Elden Root.

He may have been joking, but doesn't that sound a lot like the chapters on Valenwood history in the official Dominion textbooks?

Your Honoured Informant,

[Name Redacted to protect the author's identity.] _____________ Notes:

The Peasant Princess, A Play in One Act is subtitled A demoralizing tale surrounding the Altmer's adherence to tradition. And boy is it demoralizing! It's a lesson taught to the people to keep in their place.

But I wondered if this is really the sort of story that the peasants themselves would tell. Enter Norieleanduril, Noriel for short, who previously has been my voice for the common Summerset folk. With Noriel I try to avoid the usual character tropes (mine too) of Altmer scholars, aristocrats and justiciars, and instead present a more down-to-earth perspective of life for the regular person in Summerset, who has some of the prejudices and beliefs taught by the priests and upper classes, but with their own perspective. (Though he's probably 100 percent sillier than most regular Altmer.)

#tesblr #elder scrolls online #niente fic #altmer

26 notes · View notes

spacecowboywhit · 9 months

Text

VII Idus Sep[tem]bres Q(uintus) Postumius rogavit A(ulum) Attium pedicarim

Latin graffiti on an amphitheater column in Pompeii.

On the 7th day before the Ides of September, Quintus Postumius asked Aulus Attius, Can I fuck you in the ass?

Happy Can I Fuck You in the Ass September 7th to all who celebrate! I hope that Quintus and Aulus had a good time.

#latin #tagamemnon

31 notes · View notes

brother-emperors · 2 years

Photo

curses are non linear, they go backwards and forwards within a house

or: in a fever dream, octavian meets drusus julius caesar

He even bitterly reviled him after his death, taunting him with nameless abominations and with a spirit bent on his family's ruin and hostile to the State. And, what seemed most horrible of all, he ordered a daily journal of all that he said and did to be read in public. That there had been spies by his side for so many years, to note his looks, his sighs, and even his whispered thoughts, and that his grandfather could have heard read, and published all, was scarce credible. But letters of Attius, a centurion, and Didymus, a freedman, openly exhibited the names of slave after slave who had respectively struck or scared Drusus as he was quitting his chamber. The centurion had actually added, as something highly meritorious, his own language in all its brutality, and some utterances of the dying man in which, at first feigning loss of reason, he imprecated in seeming madness fearful things on Tiberius, and then, when hope of life was gone, denounced him with a studied and elaborate curse. "As he had slain a daughter-in-law, a brother's son, and son's sons, and filled his whole house with bloodshed, so might he pay the full penalty due to the name and race of his ancestors as well as to future generations."

The Senate clamorously interrupted, with an affectation of horror, but they were penetrated by alarm and amazement at seeing that a hitherto cunning prince, who had shrouded his wickedness in mystery, had waxed so bold as to remove, so to speak, the walls of his house and display his grandson under a centurion's lash, amid the buffetings of slaves, craving in vain the last sustenance of life.

-Tac. Ann. 6.24

society6 | twitter | ko-fi | deviantart

#octavian #marcus vipsanius agrippa #roman empire tag #drawing tag #ye haw! putting that art school education to. questionable use #shout out to caligula's dead brother for finally making octavian interesting for me but only under very specific circumstances lmao #it's the themes™#in a comic i sometimes write i have now included a very fun scene where the ghost of cassius prompts octavian #into bringing up parthia to antony. get your revenge babe! octavian is now haunted so he gets ghosts #in some world where i would turn this comic i wont admit to writing into an actual comic. the whole thing would be a horror story i think #or a story about being haunted #(i keep saying comic but it's really like. some of it is a script. other parts are prose. this was actually part of a standalone fic)#komiks tag

481 notes · View notes

liviavanrouge · 2 months

Text

Split Apart

Amara: Atti..

Attius: *Looks down at her curiously* Yes, Mars?

Amara: What if you're gone and I'm still here?

Attius: ....Well *Smiles down at her* you'll be all grown up..and you won't need your big brother anymore

Amara: *Looks down* ...I think I'll always need you..

Attius: *Smiles and hugs her* Just call me and I'll be there...

~~~~

Amara: *Flies through Hazbin Hotel, dusting the walls*

Charlie: Having an angel around is useful!

Alastor: Hahaha! Lady Beauty has always been that way...

Amara: *Stops dusting, feeling as if she's forgotten something* Huh..That's strange..

@anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @writing-heiress @marrondrawsalot @yumeko2sevilla @abyssthing198 @zexal-club @kousaka-ayumu

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel original character #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon

15 notes · View notes

bunnysrph · 2 years

Note

hi! can you please make a list of ancient roman inspired names, including some that are less common/not straight from mainstream mythology? thank you!

— 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

below is a list of ANCIENT ROMAN inspired names. they are in alphabetical order, and split into 'masculine' and 'feminine' and 'unisex', for easier access. please LIKE / REBLOG if you find this list useful!

— 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

Accius

Acilius

Acutius

Adiutor

Aedius

Aelianus / Aelius

Aemilianus / Aemilius

Aetius

Africanus / Afranius

Agathus

Agellus

Agricola

Agrippinus

Ahenobarbus

Akylas

Akylinos

Albanos / Albinianus / Albinius / Albinos

Alexinos / Alexinus

Amadias

Amicius / Amicus

Ampliatus

Ancus / Anicius

Annalis

Ansanus

Antoninos

Aphrikanos

Aquillius

Arrius

Arruns / Arruntius

Asper

Attius

Aufidius

Augoustinos / Augoustos

Augur

Aulos

Aurelianos / Aurelios

Aurius

Ausonius

Balbinos

Basolus

Bassianus

Bibulus

Blaesus

Blossius

Bonus

Britannicus

Broutos / Brutus

Caesarion

Calpurnianus

Caninius / Canius

Capito / Capitolinus

Cartilius

Carus

Carvilius

Casca

Castricius

Castus

Catullus

Caudex

Ceionius

Cicerón

Cincinnatus

Cinna

Clateus

Clodius / Cordius

Corellius

Coriolanus

Cornificius

Coropas

Corvus

Cossus / Crassus

Curius / Curtius

Dacianus / Dacius

Damasippus

Damasius

Datius

Decius

Defendens

Dentatus

Diaulus

Diocletius

Dolabella

Drousos / Drusianus

Equitius

Eulalus

Eumachius

Favian / Favonius

Martinos / Martius

Marullus

Maternus / Maturinus

Maxentios / Maximinos

Memmius

Messala

Metellus

Mettius

Minatus

Minervinus / Minervius

Miniatus

Minius

Montanus

Mucius

Munatius

Natalis

Naucratius

Necessitus

Nerius

Neron

Neroua

Nervas

Noma

Novatus / Novius

Numerius

Nymphias

Opimius

Opiter / Opiternius

Oppius

Optimus

Orestinus

Ostorius

Oualentinianos / Oualentinos / Oualerianos / Oualerios

Ouespasianos

Ouiktor

Oursos

Ovius

Paccius

Patrobas

Paulinos / Paullus

Pergentinus

Pertinax

Phabianos / Phabios / Phabrikios

Phaustinos / Phaustos

Phillipus

Phloros

Phourios

Pictor

Plautus

Pompo

Pontios

Poplios

Poppaeus

Portian / Portius

Poublios

Priscillus

Priskos

Probus

Processus

Proculus

Propertius

Pupillus

Quartus

Quintianus

Quiricus

Radix

Regoulos

Romanicus

Romulan / Romulanus

Roscius / Rosius

Rouphinos / Rouphos

Rullianus / Rullius / Rullus

Rupilius

Russus

Rutilius

Sabinos

Salinator

Sallustius

Satorninos / Satourninos

Savinus

Sawiris

Scaurus

Scribonius / Scribonus

Sedulius

Sekoundos

Sempronius

Senekas

Seouerianos / Seouerinos / Seoueros

Seppius

Serenos / Serenus

Sergios

Serouios

Sertor

Servilianus / Servilius

Servios

Severianos / Severinos / Severos

Silius

Sosius

Sporus / Spourios

Statilius

Statius

Sulpicius

Surdinius / Surdinus

Symphorus

Tarkynios

Tenagino

Terentios

Thrax

Tiberinus

Tibullus

Titinius / Titius

Torquatus

Toullios

Trebius

Turpilius

Ulpian

Ummidius

Valentinianos / Valentinos / Valerianos / Valerios

Varro / Varus

Venustian / Venustianus

Verus

Vespasius

Vettius

Vicesimus

Vinitius

Vipsanius

Viridianus / Viridius

Volesus / Volsus

— 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

Accia

Aconia

Acutia

Adelphasium

Aedia

Afrania / Africana

Aimilia

Akylina

Albinia

Amica

Anicia

Aniensis

Annia

Appia

Aquilia

Arria

Arruntia

Atia

Aufidia

Aula

Aureola

Auria

Avidia / Avita

Blanda

Caenis

Caesillia / Caesula

Caia

Caietana

Capitolina

Cartilia

Carvilia

Cassiana

Castricia

Ceionia

Cordia

Corellia

Cornificia

Crispina

Curia

Cypriana

Dacia

Domitiana

Drusiana

Eumachia

Felicula

Ferocia / Ferocilla / Ferocina

Floridia / Floridiana

Furia

Furnia / Furnilla

Fusca

Fuscinilla

Hostilia

Iaia

Ianouaria

Invidia

Ioulia / Iouliana

Ioulitta

Iuventas

Januaria

Joviana

Kaikilia

Kouinta

Lepida

Licinia

Livilla

Lollia

Loukilla

Loukretia

Lucillia

Luciola

Maecia

Mamerca

Mania

Materna

Maxentia

Maximiana / Maximina

Mercuria

Messalina

Metella

Mettia

Milonia

Mucia

Munatia

Naevia

Necessitas

Neruia

Novia

Octaviana

Opimia

Oppia

Orestilla

Orestina

Oualentina

Oualeria / Oualeriana

Phabia / Phabiana

Phausta / Phaustina

Pompeia / Pompilia

Poppaea

Potita / Potitia

Procula

Pulchra

Quadratilla

Quarta / Quartilla

Quieta

Quinta / Quintia / Quintiana

Quintilia / Quintiliana

Romilia / Romula

Roscia / Rosia

Rupilia

Rutilia

Sagitta

Sallustia

Saturna

Scaura

Scribonia

Sebine

Secunda / Secundilla

Sedulia

Semperbella

Sempronia

Seouera

Sertora

Servilia

Severa / Severiana / Severilla

Statilia

Stellatina

Sulpicia

Surdinia

Sympherusa

Symphora

Tatia

Terentia

Tiberia

Tita / Titia / Titinia

Tuccia

Turia

Ulpia

Ultima

Vipsania

Viridia / Viridiana

Vistilia / Vitalina

Vitellia

Volesa / Volusa / Volusia

— 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐗

Agrippa

Aquila

Glaucia

Iovita

Merula

#name help #name suggestions #character names #character help #character guide #writing help #rp help #rph

149 notes · View notes

trialsinthelateromanrepublic · 11 months

Text

trial of Aulus Cluentius Habitus

date: 66 BCE charge: lex Cornelia de sicariis et veneficis (‘judicial murder’ and/or poison attempts) defendant: A. Cluentius Habitus advocate: M. Tullius Cicero pr. 66, cos. 63 (Sch. 15) prosecutors: Statius Albius Oppianicus e.R. (nom. del.) T. Attius (Accius 1a RE Supp. I) of Pisaurum e.R. (ORF 145.I) juror: P. Volumnius sen.? witnesses: L. Plaetorius (Cestianus?) q. 71 Cn. Tudicius sen. laudatores [character witnesses]: Cn. Tudicius sen., people of Bovianum, Ferentum, Luceria, Marrucia, Samnium, Teanum

Cic. Clu.; Brut. 271; Quint. Inst. 2.17.21, 4.5.11, 11.1.61-63 and 74; Tryph. Dig. 48.19.39; see also Plin. Ep. 1.20.8

#tagamemnon

17 notes · View notes

cokseyyapmasstuff · 1 month

Text

ARKADASLAARRRR

iyi geceleerr tatlı rüyalar seni seviyorum diye ses attiu

#cokseyyapmasstuff

3 notes · View notes

someverygaymoth · 4 months

Text

AU Details!

Okay, firstly, this blog has a silly goofy amount of AUs. So I wrote down all the basic details for them here! Honestly, I'm probably going to end up splitting some of the AUs to other blogs because they're just so big— we'll see how it goes. But uh, this is useful stuff for understanding my madness! Like name lists!

↓↓↓

•°!CFK!°•

Pretty much just a Cottagecore fae AU, with a focus on BSP.

Error- Lucia Erastus

Horror- Cerberus

Dust- Varius Marcellinus

Ink- Acacia Fulvanius

Killer- Ether Scipio

Nightmare- Alcippe Drusus

Cross- Lycaon Augur

Dream- Lucetta(Juno) Drusus

Blue- Zephyr Catullus

Reaper- Scylla Rullus

Goth- Ianthina Rullus

Geno- Stacius Rullus

Sci- Attius Gale

Red- Cyprian Libo

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

°•!RI!AU!•°

The Retriever Institute AU is based on a very old shitty 14k Oneshot I did like, years ago, but then magically made plot and delicious trauma and so much yummy stuff for, basically I ate with this one, and I'm writing the book now. The basic explanation of it is, what if secret government agents took in those abused in the name of science and medicine, and trained them to be the same secret agents that saved them, but also slowly inducted them properly into living society. (So, lots of long journeys of healing there)

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

•*!FGP!AU!*•

FGP!AU is named for Falcons, Gods, and Problems. It's based around Geno having an avian rescue in remote Alaska, and Reaper, a god of death, appearing to him one day as an injured Crow. Only to reveal his true form once he's feeling better. From that point on, Geno's life is full of nothing but stupid winged gods, and problems.(and maybe a little romance).

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

°•!KD!AU!•°

KD!AU is a massive fantasy AU, dubbed Knights and Dragons AU, with the vast majority of its main cast being draconic people.

Dream- Arcaine/Cain

Nightmare- Euclades/Clay

Horror- Lazalli

Dust- Neri

Cross- Kodan/Koda

Killer- Vicki

Red- Inea

Edge- 'rika/paprika

Classic- Curro

Classic Paps- Papaya

Sci- Andy

Outer- Valley/Val

Error- Steller

Ink- Atra

Blue- Jay

Stretch-

Lust- Lure

Reaper- Ripid

Geno- Allis

Goth-

Raven-

(made this one up)- Arrow

Palette-

PJ-

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gradient- May

Bloop

Noop

#undertale au #ut au #fantasy au #kd!au #fantasy #undertale sans #utmv #ut aus #undertale fandom #undertale alternate universe

3 notes · View notes

kookaburra1701 · 10 months

Text

WIP Wednesday - Aristeia (working title)

Tagged by @dirty-bosmer thank you thank you

tagging: @thana-topsy, @expended-sleeper, @tallmatcha @gilgamish @nientedenada

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (blood and violence) Category: gen Genre(s): Adventure, Homer retelling Main characters: Borgakh the Steel Heart, the orcs of Mor Khazgur

Summary: When the chief of Mor Khazgur goes missing, male orcs from across the Reach show up to vie for the stronghold, causing chaos and disruption in their corner of Skyrim. The wives of Mor Khazgur must figure out how to deal with them while they wait for their chief's return.

I blame @thana-topsy for the Pavo Attius/Gat gro-Shargakh brainworms. Everyone go read Finding Mara and join me in the worm bin.

This is a pretty extended snippet, because the chapter's almost dooooooone~!

3rd First Seed, 4E 195 Borgakh did not need familiar landmarks to tell her they were getting close to the stronghold. She could smell it.

The daylight was waning as the mountains of the western Reach swallowed up the sun, casting long blue shadows over the land. Olur had spotted a clean spring for Borgakh to wash up, and there had been an untouched patch of wild winter radishes growing in the clay. They had picked all that they could fit in their packs and on Karagh’s saddlebags - all in all, a much more productive expedition than either of them had had for many months.

They crested the final hillock; Mor Khazgur dominated the shallow valley below. When she had been younger, Borgakh had often imagined the longhouse was a lazy cat asleep on a bright green rug, curled up against the rocks of the Druadach Mountains. When the stronghold’s goats were pastured in the glade, they played the role of mice scurrying about under the cat’s nose.

Now, there was no bright green rug, or herd of goats browsing the first buds of spring; the ground in front Mor Khazgur was a frozen mud pit.

Tents with various clan symbols painted on their roofs and sides crowded around the stronghold stockade with not even a semblance of order. The orc men who had arrived first had set up their lodgings without care for the foot paths, winter forage, or even well-tended herb beds outside of the walls. Later arrivals followed suit, until every bit of grass and brush had been ground into the dirt.

Then the thawing rains came and the winter snow had melted, and turned the broken mess into a mire.

Borgakh could hear shouting from the central bonfire of the camp, the one thing the orc men seemed to be able to work together to maintain. The stumps of the trees used to feed it stuck up from the ground where thick copses used to be.

“We should go around the side to the gate,” she said.

Olur continued to lead Kharagh down the slope to the main entrance of Mor Khazgur. “We meet our fates head-on, like Malacath commands, Borgakh. I for one won’t slink in like a thief to my own stronghold.”

Borgakh sighed, her stomach starting to knot. Coming home to Mor Khazgur used to be a source of comfort, a safe refuge from the harsh environment of the Reach.

Father used to be here.

Now every time she approached she had to run a gauntlet. Kharagh snorted at the mud, picking his feet up high with each step.

I don’t like it either, old friend, she thought and reached out to pat his neck. We’ll be through it soon.

Olur pulled up sharply, peering down into the crowd below. Borgakh followed his gaze, and saw what had caught his attention.

An orc leading a spotted mule and a human man were at the gate to Mor Khazgur.. They were surrounded by angry orc men. Borgakh could see some reaching for weapons.

“Pit, that’s Pavo and Gat-” Olur said before breaking into a ground covering jog, throwing Karagh’s lead at Borgakh. Borgakh swore and followed him, pulling a protesting Karagh behind her and loosening her knife in its sheath as she did so.

The mud was slippery and it was difficult going; Olur quickly outpaced her, breaking a trail through both the muck and the crowd. As he reached the knot at the gate, the shouting crescendoed and one of the orcs struck the human across the face, knocking him into the logs of the palisade.

The orc leading the mule was on the one who had struck the blow in an instant, his larger mass bearing the other to the ground with a thud that Borgakh felt through her boots. Olur had reached the man, and hauled him to his feet just in time as the orc men formed a circle around the grappling pair, stomping their feet and yelling encouragement and insults.

The orc that had assaulted the man was one of the newer arrivals; Borgakh did not know his name. It would probably not matter in a few minutes, not with the way Gat was driving his fist into his face.

Despite the blows he was taking from Gat, the other orc managed to get his axe free from his belt and swung it at Gat’s head. Gat intercepted the blow, and with a practiced twist jerked it out of the other orc’s hand and flung it away. Several of the onlookers were forced to jump out of the way as the axe flew by at eye-level.

Borgakh pushed her way to Olur and Pavo. Pavo’s brow was split and bleeding. The mule let out an anxious bray as the crowd grew wilder, adding to the din.

“We just came to trade-” Pavo was saying, swaying on his feet despite bracing himself on Olur’s arm.

“Can you get him inside?” Olur asked, transferring Pavo’s grip from his arm to Borgakh’s shoulder.

Borgakh, who had just grabbed the mule’s lead to prevent it from bolting, looked at him in annoyance. “How many hands do you think I-”

“Stop this at once!”

The authoritative voice cut through the noise and chaos, and in a few moments silence had descended on the crowd.

Gat landed another blow before standing, and turned to the stronghold.

Sharamph, Wise Woman of the stronghold, stood on one of the scaffolds that lined the inside of the stronghold defenses. She surveyed the assembled mass of orc men with a sneer.

“The wives of Mor Khazgur are still in seclusion. Fighting over the Chieftainship before it has ended is an affront to them and the Code!”

“I apologize for the disturbance, Wise-Woman,” said Gat, ignoring the other orc who was just now staggering to his feet. “I have no desire to fight for the leadership of Mor Khazgur, merely to extract the Blood-Price from the one who insulted my blood-kin.”

“And are you satisfied?” Sharamph asked.

Gat now looked over at the orc he had bested. Blood was oozing from his nose, and smeared around his mouth. Borgakh guessed he would wear the bruises of his defeat for a fortnight at least.

Gat looked over to where Pavo was leaning against Borgakh, holding a hand to his head. “Yes, I am satisfied.”

“If they aren’t competing for the right to be chief, then send them away! They have no business here.” Ansug gro-Yufethz, one of the first to arrive and declare his intention to fight for the right to be Chieftain of Mor Khazgur, stepped forward, and addressed Sharamph. “If you allow unrelated orc men in your stronghold during seclusion, then what meaning does that word have?”

“He is not an orc, and he has come to trade,” said Sharamph, indicating Pavo. “We need supplies after the winter, and the miners of Kolskeggr have always trusted our smithy for their tools. If you deny him entry you are only weakening the stronghold you wish to lead.”

Ansug narrowed his eyes and glared at Pavo, but after a moment relented. Borgakh was relieved - he was the largest and most influential among the candidates for Chief, and if he agreed, the others were likely to do so as well.

“Very well. The Imperial can enter for trade. But the orc must stay outside!”

Sharamph nodded once and disappeared behind the pointed timbers of the stronghold wall.

“Gat, I don’t like this-” Pavo said as Gat returned to his side.

“I’ll be fine,” Gat said, quickly removing a pack and a bedroll from the mule’s back. “I’ve slept in rougher places than this, you know that. I’ve got rations and our tent, and there’s no elves slinging firebolts at us. What more could I want?”

“But-”

“Olur, I think Juniper lost a few nails from her near-hind shoe in the mud.” Gat interrupted Pavo. “Will you be able to take a look while Pavo trades with Shuftharz?”

“Of course. Take him inside, Borgakh.”

The heavy gate swung open as Borgakh clicked to Karagh and Juniper. Pavo was standing on his own now, and Gat put a hand on his arm and bent down to whisper something in his ear. Pavo nodded and Gat gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder before hefting his pack and bedroll and disappearing into the crowd.

As she passed through the threshold of the gate, Borgakh felt tension she had not realized she was carrying leaving her neck and shoulders.

“Ghamorz, get the packs from the mule and bring them inside,” Sharamph said to the orc that closed the gate behind them.

“Do you really think Gat will be alright out there?” Pavo was already turning around and was staring at the closed gate. He opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by Sharamph gripping his chin and turning his head in order to cast an experienced eye on the cut over his brow.

“This will need cleaning,” she said. “Come with me.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I should really see to Juniper first-”

“Borgakh will see to your animal. Your goods will be safe in the longhouse, but your blood is still flowing; much more and Gat will be compelled to extract more from that idiot to make up the difference.”

#mor khazgur #fic: aristeia #borgakh the steel heart #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim #tesblr #wip wednesday #kb writes #orc posting hours #it's not easy being green #orc #hot orc summer

25 notes · View notes

paperraptor-blog · 2 years

Text

Skyrim Marriage Options

Slowly growing list of Marriage Options and information about them.

Argonian

Derkeethus (M)

Darkwater Pass

Trapped in a cell

Essential

Can fight

Level cap 30

Mining camp of Darkwater Crossing

Scouts-Many-Marshes (M)

Windhelm in the Argonian Assemblage

Cannot fight

Blacksmith

Shahvee (F)

Windhelm docks, Eastmarch

Lives in the Argonian Assemblage

Quest

Breton

Ainethach (M)

Karthwasten

Runs Sanuarach Mine and farmhouse

Cosnach (M)

Markarth

Loves drinking

Lives in the Warrens

Muiri (F)

The Hag’s Cure in Markarth

Shop

Quest

Octieve San (M)

Solitude

Older

Retired veteran

Gambles, and drinks

Lives with daughter Evette

Omluag (M)

Markarth

Lives in the Warrens

Perth (M)

Soljund’s Sinkhole

Sell things to him

Quest

Softhearted

Shares a house with Tuthul

Dark Elf

Athis (M)

Whiterun

Can fight

Level cap 25

Part of the companions

Avrupa Sarethi (F)

Sarethi Farm

Alchemist with her own farm

Brelyna Maryon (F)

College of Winterhold

Can fight

Level 30 cap

Likes Winstead Manor

Quest

Can become a vampire

Dravynea the stoneweaver (F)

Kynesgrove

Jenassa (F)

Drunken huntman in whiterun

Can fight

Quest

Level cap 40

Sadistic and obsessed with killing

Mercenary

Excels at stealth

Revyn Sadri (M)

Sadri’s used Wares in Windhelm

Dislikes Thieves

Quest

Sondas Drenim (M)

Goldenrock Mine

High Elf

Taarie (F)

Solitude

Loving as a spouse

Radiant Raiment

Quest

Can live with her

Does night fight

Imperial

Camilla Valerius (F)

Riverwood

The two exes will continue to be in your home.

She will return to Riverwood if her brother dies

Can live with her and her brother

Starts her own store

Quest

Gilfre (F)

Mixwater Millowner

Owns her own house

Eastmarch

Keeps the household together

Quest

Cannot fight

Marcurio (M)

Riften

Mercenary

Level cap 40

Can fight

Arrogant

Pavo Attius (M)

Left Hand Mine

Owns Kolskeggr Gold Mind

Owns a house outside Markarth

Will remain in miner’s clothing

Quintus Navale (M)

Windhelm

Alchemist

Takes over the White Phial Shop when employer dies

Quest

Ria (F)

Jorrvaskr in whiterun

Can fight

Quest

Level 25 cap

Can join the blades

Can be a steward

Senna (F)

Temple of Dibella in Markarth

Quest

Does not fight

Dislikes breeze home with kids

Enjoys proud spire

Sorex Vinius (M)

Solitude

Love triangle with Vivienne Ones and Roggvir (beheade)

Flirts with customers after marriage

Hates all homes except Proudspire Manor

Runs the Winking Skeever Inn

Viola Giordano (F)

Windhelm

Older

Owns a home (that rivals Hjerim)

Nord

Aela the huntress (F)

Whiterun (Jorrvaskr)

Can fight

Companion

Opens a shop

Quest

Dislikes most houses except proud spire

Essential till Glory of the Dead

Werewolf

Level cap 50

Can become vampire (mixed reviews)

Can be located by doing a companion quest if missing

Aeri (F)

Aeri’s House in Anga’s Mill

Older

Owner of Anga’s Mill

Owns her own house

Angrenor Once-Honored (M)

Windhelm

Homeless

Argis the Bulwark (M)

Markarth

Housecarl

Opens a shop

Can fight

Balimund (M)

Riften

Owns a house

Adopted son Asbjorn Fire-Tamer

Runs the blacksmith shop

Belrand (M)

Solitude

Sellsword for hire

Older

Level cap 40

Benor (M)

Morthal

Thug

Lives in the guardhouse (not a guard)

Calder (M)

Windhelm

Housecarl

Level cap 50

Quest

Can fight

Erik the Slayer (M)

Rorikstead

Can fight

Mercenary

Cheerful

Farkas (M)

Whiterun

Member of the Companions

Can fight

Werewolf

Little dopey

Great with kids, sweet to a spouse

Monster in battle

Level Cap 50

If you Marry him you can invite Vilkas to be your steward

Can be located by doing a companion quest if missing

Filnjar (M)

Shor’s Stone

Older

Blacksmith

Owns a house

Grelka (F)

Riften

Iona (F)

Riften

Can fight

Housecarl

Constant compliments

Jordis the sword-maiden (F)

Proud spire manor in solitude

Housecarl

Can fight

Level cap 50

Possible bug not allowing marriage

Lydia (F)

Dragonsreach

Housecarl

Can fight

Level cap 25

Mjoll the lioness (F)

Riften

Can fight

Level cap 40

Dislikes Thieves’ Guild

Quest

Worry about Markarth house

Like most houses

Essential

Where she goes, so does Aerin

Njada Stonearm (F)

Whiterun (Jorrvaskr)

Can fight

Quest

Level 25 cap

Onmund (M)

Nord Apprentice at College of Winterhold

Can fight

Level cap 30

Orla (F)

Temple of Dibella in Markarth

Daily income

Will not leave temple of Dibella

Roggi Knot-Beard (M)

Kynesgrove

Can be a follower and a steward

Miner

Quest

Level cap 20

Stenvar (M)

Windhelm

Mercenary

Sense of humor

Can fight

Level cap 40

Sylgja (F)

Shor’s Stone, The Rift

Quest

Does not fight

Temba Wide-Arm (F)

Ivarstead

Kind and amiable wife

Dislikes breeze home

Does not fight

Mill owner

Torvar (M)

Whiterun

Member of the companions

Can fight

Drinker

Level cap 25

Uthgerd (F)

Whiterun

Can fight

Level 30 cap

Quest

Mercenary

Owns a house

Vilkas (M)

Whiterun

Member of the companions

Werewolf

Can fight

Level Cap 50

Intelligent

Steward Material

Fierce in a fight

Can be located by doing a companion quest if missing

Vorstag (M)

Markarth

Mercenary

Lives in the silver-blood inn

Level cap 40

Likes Heljarchen Hall

Candiate for the blades

Sweet and a badass

Wilhelm (M)

Ivarstead

Cannot be a follower

Essential

Runs the Vilemyr Inn

Ysolda (F)

Whiterun near merchant stalls

Marriage perk: 100 septa’s per day

Does not fight

Crush on Mikael the bard

Drug dealer

Small house in Whiterun

Takes over Banered Mare if Ulda is killed

Essential

Quest

Likes Herjerchan hall

Orc

Gat gro-Shargakh (M)

Left hand mine (Before cleared of forsworn)

Marriage perk: 100 gold daily

Lives in Kolskeggr Mine

Borgakh the steel heart (F)

Mor Khazgur, Haafingar

Quest

Daughter of the Chief Larak

Level cap 30

Can fight

Ghorbash the Iron Hand (M)

Dushnikh Yal

Sneaky

Brother of Chief Burguk

Level cap 30

Potential Steward

Can fight

Ghorza gra-Bagoi (F)

Markarth

Blacksmith

Quest

Lives with her brother in Understone keep

Great Spouse

Moth gro-Bagol (M)

Understone Keep

Ghorza’s brother

Blacksmith

RedGuard

Anwen (F)

Temple of Dibella in Markarth

Rayya (F)

Falkreath

Housecarl

Can Fight

Quest

ESSENTIAL CHARACTER

#skyrim followers #skyrim #oblivion #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #skyrim marriage #marriage #relationship #follower #followers #skyrim wife #Skyrim marriage #skyrim husband #partner #skyrim p

51 notes · View notes

adamwatchesmovies · 1 year

Text

Pompeii (2014)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Pompeii wants to do for its titular city what Titanic did to the ship. Along the way, it borrows more than a few elements from Ridley Scott’s Gladiator. Sometimes, mixing two seemingly incompatible things works out but you don’t always get Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, if you know what I mean.

In 79 A.D., Milo (Kit Harrington) is a talented gladiator called “the Celt” by the romans who wiped out his tribe and enslaved him. Brought to Pompeii, he catches the eye of Cassia (Emily Browning) when he helps get her carriage out of the mud. She is returning home, tired of the corruption of Rome and of Senator Quintas Attius Corvus (Kiefer Sutherland), who has been relentlessly pursuing her hand in marriage. While Milo and Cassia both look for a way to escape their worlds, mount Vesuvius looms in the distance, belching more smoke than usual…

This movie assumes you’re stupid, which is much worse than it being stupid itself. Pompeii ominously shows Vesuvius every 10 minutes. In no time, you become exasperated. Take a poll. How many people could even name an Italian volcano besides the who destroyed Pompeii? Who even knows anything about the city besides the way it was destroyed? You want to establish crucial plot points ahead of time but this film overdoes it to the point of comedy. When James Cameron brought us back to the doomed ship, he made the effort to sweep us off our feet. The Heart of the Ocean, lavish sets, stories of ordinary people looking for a better life and above all, the romance. By the time that iceberg showed up, we were so invested in Jack and Rose we'd almost forgotten a disaster was incoming. Paul W.S. Anderson wants to do the same thing. Unfortunately, the clumsy dialogue and feeble story means you never fall for the would-be lovers. Seemingly aware of this, the film instead tries to dump a bucket of action on the screen as a distraction. Are we not entertained? Nope.

The resemblances between Pompeii and Ridley Scott’s epic sword-and-sandal adventure can’t be coincidental. It steals entire scenes and then proceeds to do them so badly you’ll be in stitches. It’s trying so hard to be epic, particularly when lava begins pelting the Roman city and Milo races through the streets, dodging flames, falling debris and, most dangerous of all - Kiefer Sutherland chewing the scenery. Did we even need a villain? All he does is make the whole thing seem contrived. What are the odds the one man Milo swore vengeance upon is in the same town as him on the day the volcano erupts. Not only that, the villain happens to be pursuing the same woman as Milo and with the same passion that burns away common sense. The idea is for the calamity to heighten the tension, for us to desperately cling onto the hope that things will work out. I doubt anyone watching will be kept in suspense.

Considering the films it’s impersonating, Pompeii has the good grace of being mercifully short. Also noteworthy are the special effects - the disaster sequences look great. Otherwise, this whole thing is a write-off whose only purpose would be to be shown as a double-bill with either Titanic or Gladiator to prove once and for all that those films are good. Seeing a cheap knockoff gives you a new appreciation for the original. (On DVD, November 23, 2019)

4 notes · View notes