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Like a Handprint on My Heart by nightmarcs
Fandoms: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Elder Scrolls
15 Oct 2026
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Summary
“You’ve stained my sheets,” she whimpered.
“And you’ve stained me—“ he whispered in her ear as he thrust into her. “Completely,” another thrust followed, rough and deep, as if he searched for a stretch within her that he hadn’t yet reached. “And utterly.”
(Brynjolf sets his priorities straight.)
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To Fall Apart by nightmarcs
Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, House of the Dragon (TV)
17 Aug 2026
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“Helaena—“ her name escaped his lips in a trembling breath and a rough swallow.
Stop it, he wanted to cry out at her. Stop it, he wanted to spit the words through his gritted teeth and squeeze her flesh until her blood vessels had burst under his touch, but his arms were heavy and numb, and his chest was crackling under pressure, so he took her and pressed her tightly against him, whether to muffle her cries, or use her as an anchor to keep himself from falling to the floor, he didn't know.
(Aegon and Helaena face the aftermath of Jaehaerys’ death.)
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He pulls her by the throat so that he can see her face better, but a stray lock of hair falls across, and she laughs, loudly and genuinely, with pearly teeth and a shiver in her chest, and it makes him feel less like a dot in the endless universe.
(Brynjolf loves and is loved passionately.)
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“Which one is that—over there?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think that’s a constellation.”
“Hm. Just a star then.”
“No star is ever just a star.”
“My bad, lass. That one caught my eye.“
(Honeyside’s porch is great for star-gazing and late-night conversations.)
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“Brynjolf, it’s cold.” She’d burrowed her hands into his pockets, using them as anchors to keep him close.
“If only either of us had a bed,” he chuckled.
“Pick the lock,” she said, eyeing the back entrance of the temple.
His face lit up in realisation, and he laughed. “In there? You’re obscene.”
(Brynjolf makes an unexpected visit to the Temple of Mara.)
Recent bookmarks
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Usually when he finally dragged himself to bed this late he would be out as soon as his head hit his pillow, his mind exhausted after a day of pedantic contracts and bribes. Yet, now he laid awake, mead sitting uneasy in his stomach, thinking only of Nim.
Nim who, until a week ago, was a complete stranger to him. She was on all accounts an off putting, solitary, and violent woman who never spoke a word about herself. The kind of woman you probably shouldn’t be thinking of in the baths, naked, running lavender soap through her long, wavy hair.
The idea that the Bosmer known as Nim could be capable of love was laughable. Any tenderness was met with teeth, a dog with a loud bark and even deeper bite. It made sense that a woman as violent as she could only be reformed into something softer by the Thieves Guild. More importantly, by Brynjolf's guiding hand. A friendship blossomed between them, but would it become more? With the fate of the world rested on her shoulders and a sinister conspiracy underfoot, would Nim let her frozen heart thaw?
A story told through the perspectives of Brynjolf and the Dragonborn as the events of the Thieves Guild questline unfold.
Bookmarked by nightmarcs
04 Mar 2026
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Summary
'He died, so you could be born as She intended. Do not let the gift of the Webspinner go to waste, my dear.'
The island of Solstheim had been quiet for most of the last decade. While the life beside her mentor was good, Shiala grows restless to leave; Her mother is soon to return, who would want nothing but Shiala to walk a path behind her footsteps as a Messenger of Mephala. While the art of murder could be an easy path due to the circumstances of her own birth, she is unsure it's the path she truly desires.
When she stumbles on a private letter written by her mentor, she sees an opportunity in her future, somewhere far from her mother's grasp. She finds herself drawn to Riften and its shadows to keep low profile from her identity as a Dragonborn, who has been missing from the public eye since the Thalmor Embassy-incident.
Bookmarked by nightmarcs
27 Feb 2026

