#be nice to Ancano

[whitegoldtower]

Bethesda: *creates a very two dimensional villain who is apparently just evil for the sake of being evil, but also gives him weird tension with the LDB*

My delusional arse, as a writer: this man is an affection-starved, closeted gay man who has convinced himself that the only way he can be respected is by wearing the Thalmor uniform and the only way he can protect himself is by seeking power.

He probably only joined the Thalmor because he wanted to be seen as intimidating and not to be messed with (i.e, he wanted people to leave him the fuck alone), and because it would give him an excuse, a ‘beard’ if you like - because the Thalmor are very particular about reproduction, it makes sense he’d use it as a cover.

Even the Thalmor don’t like him (probably because they suspect him, or at the very least feel like something’s ‘off’) because they sent his colleague to Markarth with backup, and yet sent him to Winterhold alone. He’s also not at Elenwen’s party.

He gets nastier and nastier the more inhospitable people are towards him (take his bedroom at the college, for example), and his behaviour with the eye is textbook behaviour of someone at the end of their tether.

The sad part is that the poor bastard likely hates his job and wants to leave the Thalmor, but knows that the only way one leaves the Thalmor is in a box. So he resigns himself to his fate and decides that if he’s going to go out, he’s going to go out with a bang, and he’s going to be comically camp whilst doing it because this is his last act.

… Give me a week and I could fix him. I feel like the entire time he was just inwardly screaming to be loved and wanted, he needed someone who would fight to know him, and resist his attempts to evade vulnerability.

[makalyta]

I offer you Ancano + soft daffodils and rosemary + alternative College of Winterhold plot idea: instead of just avoiding Ancano because the people in the College tell you not to trust him, you try to get closer to him to understand what he's actually in Winterhold for. After your discovery in Saarthal, you start talking to him. You become friends after a tiny quest where you have to evesdrop some conversations, he teaches you a new spell and he softens his tones towards you. He then tells you he's been roaming around the College because he knows the Archmage is up to something. You decide to help him by retrieving the Staff of Magnus, and get to know Savos' dark backstory in the process, which really gives Ancano's theories credit. And then you return to the altmer and give him the staff, just to discover he had gaslighted you the whole time: he wanted to use the Eye of Magnus for his own desires from the beginning. You can't do anything but kill him in order to save Skyrim, and his death leaves you wondering if you really were just a pawn to him, or if he felt remotely guilty for exploiting your friendship. You are never going to trust a Thalmor officer again.

[bforblitz]

Look I know Ancano is a fascist but like. I can fix him. I’ll rewrite him and give him two boyfriends. Let me just *grabs him and runs away*

[goopysoup]

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..someone will ache for your soul..

In which you find your soulmate

featuring: farkas, vilkas, mercer frey, brynjolf, cicero, ancano, serana

[all are gender neutral, but there is a mention of being called ‘pretty’] [this took me almost three hours 💀 I don’t like most of them:(]

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farkas

He could smell them from a mile away.

That’s weird, let’s start again, shall we? Farkas swung his sword at the giant, fighting the urge to turn and run towards the sweet smell approaching. The beast inside him begged— pleaded— for him to go and engulf himself inside that smell, to cover himself in it, whatever it was.

That’s when he saw them. They aimed a bow, a steel arrow shooting through the air and into the giants eye, making it roar out before Aela ultimately got the last hit and killed the giant on the farm. Farkas couldn’t keep his eyes off them, the smell was coming from them. He watched as Aela spoke to them, not even registering what she was saying as he watched this person— the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

Later, he’d seen them at Jorrvaskr, watching them enter and sneak downstairs. Were they joining?

“Farkas!” He’d heard Skjor’s voice shout from Aela’s room, “did you call me?” He asks as he smells that sweet smell again, his eyes locking on theirs. He barely heard what Aela was saying to him, “uh— new blood? Oh, hello. I’m Farkas. Come, follow me.”

He’d spoken to Kodlak later that night, asking him what in oblivion that sweet smell coming from them was and why was it just coming from them?

Kodlak laughs, forgetting that Farkas could be a bit dense at times, “she’s your mate,” he says as he pats him on the back a little harshly, “your soulmate, in other words.”

His soulmate..

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vilkas

He’d had their stupid name imprinted on his wrist since he was just a pup, a name he’d never heard of in all his years. Vilkas had begun to doubt that his soulmate even lived in Tamriel, in Skyrim, how unlucky was he? First, his lycanthropy, now his soulmate was nowhere to be seen? Nobody knew of someone with such a name?

It was a normal day as any, Vilkas sat at the small table with Kodlak, the two of them wondering if there truly would ever be a way for them to be rid of the beast. The beat haunted Kodlak, he knew that, the old man wanted to get into Sovngarde as any true nord would. But the beast prevented that, he would end up in Hircine’s land hunting for the rest of eternity.

It wasn’t long before an unfamiliar person walked into the halls of Jorrvaskr, heading down towards the two men. Their conversation was cut short, “I’d like to join the companions,” their voice was nice, I stark contrast to the armour and weapons they had on their body.

“Would you, now? Here, let me have a look at you? Hmm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit.” Kodlak spoke, making Vilkas furrow his eyebrows.

“Master, you’re not truly considering accepting them?” He asks, making Kodlak give him a subtly pointed look, explaining they had empty beds for people with a fire in their hearts, “Apologies. But, perhaps this isn’t the time. I’ve never even heard of this outsider.”

The person sheepishly looks to Vilkas before they state their name. He freezes for a moment before he looks at them, Kodlak letting out a hearty laugh, making the person look at him with confusion.

“Vilkas, take them out to the yard and see what they can do.” Kodlak says before the person looks between Vilkas and Kodlak for a moment.

Oh gods..

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mercer frey

He’d known they were his soulmate from the moment he’d met them. Mercer saw the tattoo imprinted onto their forearm before they pulled their sleeve back down, he wasn’t stupid. But he’d never said anything, never gave them the hint he wanted them as much as they wanted him, not with the plans he had against the guild.

He’d let his guard down, it was so unlike him to bring any of his walls down but they made him. It was their fault, wasn’t it? He reaches over, his hand brushing against their cheek as they both stood outside in the backyard of his home, concealed under the stars, slone with no one watching them.

“I know,” they say suddenly, he furrows his eyebrows, “know what?” He asks in return, slipping his hand down to their neck, cradling it. He could choke them and end the misery of having him as their soulmate.

The grasp his wrist, carefully sliding down his sleeve to show the matching tattoo. His face hardens, pulling away as he covers the tattoo with his sleeve again, “it means nothing.”

He didn’t entirely mean those words, he yearned for them in secret, but he wouldn’t let his walls come down again. They didn’t need to get involved in his dirty work, he didn’t even want them in the guild anymore. It was to protect them.

“Leave, don’t come back, you understand?”

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brynjolf

The Dragonborn walks into Riften for the first time, almost laughing at how scared the guard outside had been when he realised they knew there was no tax. They make their was through the town, they liked the atmosphere even if they couldn’t see the colour of anything, it was better than dealing with the whole Alduin thing, anyways.

“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carrying, eh?” Brynjolf’s voice sounds out quietly as he approaches the famous Dragonborn. Who didn’t know of them, being clad in such armour and that weapon? They didn’t hide it.

“I’m sorry, what?” They ask, looking up at the man before a myriad of colours struck their vision within seconds, overwhelming them. Their head ached at the sight before they finally got used to it and looked around, not noticing the look that Brynjolf was giving them, admiring.

“I’m saying you’ve got the coin, love, but you didn’t earn a septim of it honestly, I can tell,” Brynjolf says once their eyes move back to him, crossing his arms with an expression that matches flirtation.

“How could you possibly know that?” The Dragonborn asks, almost bewildered as they finally get a good look of him, he was handsome, effortlessly charming. It was almost.. irritating? No, that’s not the word, “wait— my wealth is none of your business.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, love. Wealth is my business. Maybe you’d like a taste?” They’d gone through with the plan, stealing what’s-his-face’s ring and planting it on the other who’s-his-name successfully.

“Looks like I chose the right person for the job. And here you go.. your payment, as promised,” Brynjolf hands them the payment he’d promised his soulmate. He couldn’t wait to get them into the guild, to live a life with them— even if the life was illegal.

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cicero

Poor Cicero hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to the pretty assassin that had walked into the sanctuary the day he’d brought his dear mother. Sweet, sweet Night Mother. He was such a good Keeper, wasn’t he? Why wouldn’t she just speak to him! No, he must be calm, that’s what sweet mother would want, isn’t it?

He spoke to the Night Mother now, they were alone, sweet solitude with the sweet Night Mother, “Have you.. have you spoken to anyone? No.. no, of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing and the saying!” He continued for a while, rambling to the mother.

Suddenly, he opens her coffin, gasping with confusing and repulse. Here, the pretty assassin was in the coffin with the Night Mother!

“What? What treachery! Defiler! Debased and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother’s coffin! Explain yourself! Speak, worm!”

The pretty assassin’s eyes seemed to widen at his words, he couldn’t tell if it was because of his words or tone, but he didn’t care, “The Night Mother spoke to me! She said, ‘I am the one.’” Now, it was Cicero’s turn to widen his eyes. Those words! The words! His words! The ones on his arm, the ones his soulmate would say! His Listener!

Good luck with this one, dear Listener..

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ancano

Ancano had noticed them as soon as they’d walked through those gates. Another new apprentice, how bothersome. Still, he continued his conversation with Mirabelle, quickly growing more irritated by the treatment she was giving him.

The new apprentice was guided away by Mirabelle, leaving Ancano to his thoughts. It was odd, he felt drawn to them, though he didn’t know nor care why. He had business to attend to.

The apprentice was in the Hall of Elements with Tolfdir, the two of them watching the mysterious orb they’d found in Saarthal. Clearly, this mage was more troublesome than Ancano had thought. The Psijic Order was asking for them. So, Ancano had inturruped the two of them, gaining a temper tantrum from Tolfdir. It was only when they were alone that the elf had noticed a familiar scratch on the side of the apprentice’s neck- one that matched the one that had appeared on his not but a few hours before.

Gods be damned, this apprentice was his soulmate, “I need you to come with me immediately. Let’s go.”

For now, he wouldn’t say anything about it, this apprentice seemed to be too oblivious. Or, at least, that’s what they pretended to be with that stupid little smile on their lips.

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serana

Being trapped in a tomb for gods know how long wasn’t something Serana entirely enjoyed. I mean, who would? It was dark and cold, dreary and cramped, far too undeserving of even a vampire such as her. She just had to remember, she was doing this for her father and he would come back for her, right?

She hadn’t woken up until she was almost fallen on the floor, but her quick instincts helped her to keep balance. She was free, her father had come back..—

Glancing up, she noticed a person standing there watching with a small amused smile, obviously the one that had rescued her from the dreary space she was just in, obviously not a vampire. Obviously not her father. She was sure her father would’ve come to get his daughter, so who was this? Though, as their eyes met, a shockwave shot through her, the feeling of being alive again was strong, flooding her veins and undead heart. This was her soulmate, she’d waiting thousands of years for this, but why was she so reluctant now? Reluctant to go with them- to trust them, but a part deep inside her knew this was right, she could get used to it. She could get used to them.

“Who are you?” Serana asks, finally having gained her composure. She looks this person up and down, analysing anything and everything she can see. It was clear they were a vampire hunter. Great.

“Who were you expecting?” They ask, almost amused as they watch the pretty vampire, crossing their arms in a similar way Serana was.

“Not my soulmate, that’s for sure.”

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[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Savos Aren: You know, it wouldn't kill you to be nice to Ancano once in a while.

Mirabelle Ervine: We don't know that.

[skyrim-forever]

You know, in your literary universe, Ondolemar and Ancano must know each other somehow. What does Ondo think of him? How did they met? Give me the Ancano slander!

Ah ha! Yes, they do in fact know each other. Ancano has come up in two fics of mine: We shouldn't be doing this and Forget myself. He gets to speak in the first one:

“Ancano, enjoying the nice weather? I don’t suppose it gets this nice in Winterhold?” It wasn’t a secret that Ancano had been given the worst assignment. He had heard rumours that Ancano had done something to piss off the Ambassador, thus earning his banishment to that frozen Nord village; though he hadn’t yet learned what.

“No it most certainly does not.” The other mer grumbled, he couldn’t blame Elenwen, aside from doing anything specific he was rather unpleasant to be around. “At least you’re in a real city.” Ondolemar chuckled. 

But in Forget myself he is just referenced as insufferable. This pretty much sums up their vibe. While Ondolemar is lameting his assignment to Skyrim, Ancano is a good reminder that things could be worse. The weather in Markarth is relatively pleasant and he does have a position of authority; versus freezing his Altmer ass off in Winterhold with a fake, made up role just to banish you far from the Embassy. Elenwen really said "Enough, you go in the snow."

In my fics, I've settled on that Ancano made a comment about Elenwen's failed marriage and how, if he was married to her he'd also get her sent to Skyrim and away from the homeland. I have Elenwen ideas in my brain so hopefully will get these ideas out.

[theoneandonlysemla]

🍩 | their favourite snack to eat together 🥂 | what would happen if they got drunk together

Faralda and Ancano?

🍩: Ancano eats nothing but cum and pussy.

Sorry, I had to.

Anyway, for real? He’d get them some nice snack from Alinor. Candied fruits or candied nectar bread. “Something sweet for his sweet lady 💕”(🤮) Maybe Faralda would force some Skyrim food on him, a horker stew for example and he’d scream and writhe 😂 He does like the cheese tho and they’d share something like a Skyrim version of a charcuterie board.

🥂: I imagine that Faralda is careful not to drink too much around him because she knows she’d grow soft and fall back into the deep buried feelings she has for him. Relapse things worse than “One Last Time” would happen and she’d say stupid truths to him and worst of all, be nice?! That’s a no-go!

For Ancano, there are two different things that might happen. Either he becomes the miserable wet rag that he was in “Beg for it” and begs her to give him some form of attention or, especially if Faralda had too much wine and has grown soft, he’d get back his awful god complex and be terrible about it. He’d say such mean things to her, degrade her into submission like he did before and enjoy to have the upper hand for once.

Anyway, they’d definitely fuck. If it’s an angry hate fuck or both of them being sobbing messes depends on the quality of wine, I guess :P

[undersaarthal]

Hmmmmmmm... ancano headcanons pls?

I assure you I have plenty! of course ancano would ask about ancano 🙄(jk, jk! glad you asked! 😁) He's driven by the pursuit of knowledge. He is deathly curious, and this is both a strength of his and a potential deadly downfall (as we see with the eye of Magnus, of course). He is motivated only by things that serve his interests, so in the (frankly very rare) cases that he grows close with people, it's because he's driven by a curiosity to learn more about them. He was sent out to work at the College of Winterhold by Elenwen because um, he's kind of lame and his coworkers are annoyed by him, but also because she knew his devoted interest in magical artifacts and relentless, passionate pursuit of knowledge and ancient, mysterious secrets would make him well suited to be stationed there. I write him as trans, honestly, just because it makes me happy (: When drunk he has a stutter that comes out. I put the Altmer lifespan at about 200-300 years, and I think he's middle aged. In my writing I say he's 152. He's on the shorter side, the shortest out of his fellow thalmor, but compared to other men and mer he's usually taller than them. If you manage to get on his good side, he is very talkative, and he can keep a deep conversation going for hours. He is the type to obsessively document everything. He would never admit this, but he is superstitious, and prone to paranoia. He keeps a thorough record of day-to-day events in a collection of journals, and he has very nice handwriting. It's easy for him to justify this as simply keeping a record for reporting back to Elenwen, but it may also be that he is afraid to forget any detail. He cannot let his thoughts go unsaid or unwritten, and he also cannot shut up. No stone remains unturned, no mystery remains unsolved. If he cannot get a read on someone, if he feels too stupid to figure something out, it will keep him up at night. He's good at getting a read on people quickly. A very judgemental and narrow-minded read, but a thorough one nonetheless. When people are complex and keep changing his perception of them, it really throws him off, and becomes another mystery he feels compelled to solve.

[twistytwine]

I’m ngl as much as I love the characters of the college of Winterhold I kind of wish Savos Aren was the villain and Ancano wasn’t. Like Savos Aren’s backstory feels perfect for a tragic antagonist and Ancano to me doesn’t,,,have much depth to him? I like headcanons of the Thalmor finding him annoying af and marking him as an outcast, but unfortunately none of that is confirmed canon. Ancano just feels evil because he’s Thalmor, not because of anything else deeper than that. Would be nice if he were still a racist dick but was genuinely trying to make the college better while Savos (whatever his motives would be) was the villain of the questline

[thana-topsy]

35

Ancano X Savos Aren? 👀

EXCELLENT suggestion. Thank you for this one.

---

Ancano x Savos Aren "A kiss to gain something." (1077 words)

“I’m sorry, but the answer is still no.” 

Ancano lifted a brow as he took a sip of wine, gazing half-lidded over the brim of his cup. He dabbed his lips on the back of his glove and offered a delicate shrug in response. “I understand, Arch-Mage. My apologies for… haranguing you.”

They sat opposite each other in Savos Aren’s quarters, a bottle of Firebrand wine between them (Ancano’s gift), barely touched. Aren wore a look of pinched suspicion, which Ancano supposed was fair. He hadn’t really made an attempt at being pleasant thus far, but supposed after two months living at this wretched college that he might as well make an attempt to forge a connection. At least superficially. 

More than connection, however, he wanted access to Saarthal.

“You have to understand it from my perspective,” Aren continued, gazing curiously into his own wine cup. It’s not poisoned, Ancano wanted to say. “We already walk a delicate tightrope with the locals. Allowing a Thalmor agent to enter a revered Nordic crypt—especially considering the history of said crypt—it would shine unwanted attention on the College. We are neutral in this conflict, and many might see it as–”

“I might remind you that the Thalmor are also neutral in this conflict, Arch-Mage. Our presence in Skyrim, as with any other country under the Empire’s rule, is simply to enforce order and aid in upholding the agreements of the Concordat. I might also add that I am not a Justiciar. I am not here to root out Talos worship, though it is my duty to report it.” He paused, taking another sip of wine, letting his words linger. “But it is not my main concern. My role here is to act as an advisor and ambassador to you, Arch-Mage. And staying abreast of the College’s curriculum, including all relevant expeditions, is my concern.”

At long last, Aren took a sip of his own wine. He made a pleased noise, then picked up the bottle to inspect the label. “Quite nice.”

Ancano nodded, tilting his cup in Aren’s direction in silent cheers.

Aren sat back in his chair with a sigh, pushing the hood from his head. His long, black hair was streaked gray and pulled back into a low tail. His features were severe, even for a dark elf: high cheekbones and hollow cheeks, his deep red eyes slitted like a fox. The point of his beard only served to make his face appear far too long and narrow. Ancano always found the dark elves to have an unnatural, uncanny appearance to them—Daedra-cursed through and through—and rarely did he find himself in such close quarters with one. He couldn’t help but stare. 

“You were a student at this college once, correct?” Ancano asked. 

“Yes,” Aren answered, his nervousness returning. 

“What was your area of study?” 

He seemed to relax marginally. “Oh, well, I had a variety of projects in my time. This was close to a century ago, mind you, but–”

And he was off, jabbering away about various lines of research and artifact recovery. No wonder he’d initiated the Saarthal expedition. Savos Aren seemed particularly fascinated with what basically amounted to grave robbing. Ancano smiled into his wine. 

“What’s so funny?” Aren asked. 

“Funny? No no, you mistake me. I simply find your… enthusiasm to be charming.” 

An indigo flush crept up Aren’s neck and darkened his cheeks. He took a sip of his own wine and averted his fox-like eyes. 

Ancano made a mental note of the reaction. “Please continue,” he urged. “And let me–” He reached forward to lift the wine bottle, motioning for Aren to hold out his cup to be refilled. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Arch-Mage.” 

He listened patiently as the Dunmer continued to ramble, Aren's shoulders becoming looser, his gesticulations more enthusiastic. Ancano continued to fill Aren’s wine cup when it ran low.

“And I just feel it; a mage’s intuition, if you will. There’s a missing piece to the puzzle in Saarthal. Why would our ancient brethren risk it all otherwise? The Nords dug too deep, I say. They found something that they shouldn’t have. Something worth fighting for. I just know it.”

Ancano’s entire body blazed with victory, satisfaction curling in the pit of his stomach. He hid his excitement behind a placid smile. “You’ve dared to do what many have not. And for that, I commend you. I have no doubt your efforts will prove to be most fruitful.”

“I appreciate you saying so,” said Aren. “And thank you for the wine. It’s been most delicious.”

“Of course.” Ancano rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. “I believe I must retire for the evening. It’s grown late.” 

Aren got to his feet as well. “Ah, I’ve rambled on for so long. My apologies.”

“No need to apologize. I inquired, after all.”

Aren’s gaze was slightly unfocused—dulled from the wine and lulled by the companionable conversation—yet his gaze lingered on Ancano’s face for a moment too long. “If–” he began, then seemed to second guess himself. 

Ancano relaxed his posture, crossing his hands patiently in front of his waist, waiting. 

“I might accompany you to Saarthal, if you’d still like. Though the excavation has only just begun, I can show you our progress. If–” He gestured to Ancano’s robes. “–only if you promise to wear something a little less… flashy.” 

Ancano laughed, and to his own surprise it was a more genuine laugh than he intended. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “I believe that’s a fair request.” 

Final play. Are you so sure of yourself? 

Yes, he answered his own query. 

Ancano was young by Altmeri standards, but he had grown up among politicians and kinsmen, breast-fed on the social dalliances of subterfuge and subtle manipulation. He knew the signs. He knew the game. 

Aren smiled a little too genuinely, and Ancano offered a slight bow in return, crossing his hands behind his back. 

“I would be honored, Arch-Mage.” Then, stepping forward, he leaned into Aren’s space, tilting his head to place a soft kiss against the dark elf’s cheek. 

Aren sucked in a breath, but otherwise remained stock still as Ancano’s lips lingered. 

Then, Acano stepped away with another bow, passing the gesture off as Altmeri formalities. “I eagerly await your invitation.”

“Very good,” Aren said distantly. 

Ancano’s smile felt razor-sharp on his lips. “And I’ll make sure to dress for the occasion.”

[glitchbitchwritingblog]

Precious: Yandere Ancano x NonDB!Fem!Apprentice Mage! Reader

Yandere Ancano x Non-DB! Fem!Apprentice Mage! Reader Part One

 From the moment he laid eyes on you,you were trapped. There was no way to escape or run away,your fate had been sealed. He watched you in your classes and during your break times,he rarely didn't know where you were. During his time observing you,Ancano noticed that you weren't very good at taking care of yourself. You often forgot to eat and sleep,there were even occasions where you fainted during class due to exhaustion.

Obviously you don't know how to take care of yourself so he has to take care of you himself. You'll thank him one day and until then he can easily handle you.

It was easy setting up a secret place not even his superiors knew about. He made sure everything was perfect for the both of you. You had your own room of course,he knew you'd need your own space and would be quite fussy in the beginning. He had made sure your bed was made of the best materials money could buy,your sheets were of good linen and your pillows and comforters stuffed with feathers. Your second blanket,as you often slept with two on the rare occasion you did sleep in your dorm room,was made of a soft blue velvet and would keep you nice and snug. On the floor of the room were two soft black rugs made from the pelt of two cave bears,the floor itself made of gray stone. The walls were made of cobblestone and beautiful tapestries depicting love stories decorated the walls. A fireplace kept the room warm,two chairs and a table facing it,and a bookshelf full of many different books sat against the wall to the left of it. All that needed to be done to it was to put some candles in it.

The night Ancano finally captured you,you had agreed to aid him in testing a tea he had made. He had told you he was trying to make the perfect tea for his father back in the Summerset Isles. He'd taste it himself but he had been trying for so long all the flavors tasted the same. You were so sweet as you drank the tea,complimenting him on its subtle notes of Jasmine,and you became even cuter when you fell asleep in his chair,completely left to his mercy.

[ego-osbourne]

The Dez Illusion / Salt in the Wound Voice Claims

THE VOICE CLAIMS ARE FINISHED FINALLY

This has been in the works for a loooong time. The hardest part was finding these DAMNED VOICES. By FAR the hardest voice to find was Rakell’s, but his game out very nicely!

Here’s some general notes I have for everyone, if you wanna read.

Erandur (Keith Szarabajka) - (TDI / SITW) No issues with his original VA. Gruff but very sweet and comforting.

Serana (Laura Bailey) - (TDI / SITW) Again, no issues with her original VA. Blunt and sassy, very capable of dry humor.

Miraak (Peter Jessop) - (TDI / SITW) I couldn’t not use his original voice, it’s just so dramatic and grumpy.

Sanguine (William Salyers) - (TDI / SITW) Originally went looking for a more smooth-talking, charming voice, but nothing I found could quite keep the same level of mischief that his og voice had. So, while I think the perfect voice is out there somewhere, og voice is still wonderful.

Ancano (Alexander Brandon) - (TDI / SITW) Love his og voice, it’s so pompous and entitled. In a perfect world I would be able to find something like this with a sailor/pirate accent, but this is pretty close.

Ego (Dan Avidan) - (TDI / SITW) When first starting this project, a bunch of buddies told me that Dan Avidan fit their voice, and it just kinda stuck lol. I think Dan’s voice works especially well in SITW, the only thing I could ask more from it is if it matched Erandur’s accent a little. But, it still adds a lovely charm and goofiness that Ego definitely needs!

Rakell (Grahame Fox) - (TDI / SITW) Like I said, my buddies and I went through a LOT of grief trying to find the right voice for him. He probably went through the most changes, from Stoic (HTTYD) to Sir Gideon Ofnir (Elden Ring). Eygon ended up being the perfect fit, with as low and growls as he was.

Iren (Richard Schiff) - (pre-TDI) What a wonderfully soothing voice, made specially to lull you into a false sense of security, but bleeding with wisdom.

Velehk Sain (Josh Keaton) - (TDI / SITW) A good commanding voice, though aired with a type of softness that he can’t seem to loose, like he’s trained his voice to be authoritative but it doesn’t always hit the mark. When it’s soft, it sounds the most natural. My only wishes are that his voice was a tad bit higher and had a pirate inflection.

Caspian (Johnny Depp) - (SITW) Wild, loud, and slurred, Captain Jack just worked so very well for Caspian.

Kyrahk (Scott Porter) - (SITW) The perfect level of arrogance, perfect vocabulary, perfect speed. His voice only throws me off because I wish it sounded a bit older or lower.

Molag Bal (Graham McTavish) - (TDI / SITW) Ironic that a vampire would voice the father of all vampires. Perfect all around, being dark, broody, and ever-intimidating, and sounds damn good when annoyed!

Mehrunes Dagon (Christopher Judge) - (TDI / SITW) Low, wise, blunt, and intimidating, very perfect for Dagon. I only wish he had a better yelling voice. While Kratos’ yells are short and change his tone, I always imagined Dagon’s yells as long and rumbly.

Hermaeus Mora (Dee Bradley Baker) - (TDI / SITW) This voice is the stuff of nightmares. Glorious.

Sheogorath (Wes Johnson) - (TDI / SITW) HE’S SHEOGORATH BABY!!

Vaermina (Ellen McLain) - (TDI) Proper and highly sassy, cruel and cold, but always sounding lovely. My only wish was to get rid of the robotic effect a little—not fully.

[supervillain-smut]

Malborn, Ancano, Etienne Rarnis, Erik the Slayer, Marcurio, Erandur, and Gelebor being called "good boy"? Interesting mix of submissive and dominant personalities, heheheh.

Apologies, I don't write for Erik the Slayer, but I do write for the rest of this list! Thanks for the ask! 18+ only ahead!

Ancano: Stops everything he was doing. "I beg your finest pardon? I am not your subordinate, and even if I was--" Yeah... I wouldn't do that.

Erandur: Blushes all the way to the tips of his ears, but doesn't say anything or stop. Not quite sure how to feel about it, but it's not exactly negative. It's nice to know he's pleasing you, he supposes.

Etienne: Only spurs him on further. "Only the best for you, my love." You've unknowingly created a monster; now he doesn't think you're satisfied or he's done a good job unless you say it, and will beg you to tell him what a good boy he is.

Gelebor: Feels too awkward about it to mention anything, but his internal monologue is something like this: 'Good boy? Well, whether I'm good or not is up for debate, but I'm certainly no boy. Probably meant it to be endearing. I think.'

Malborn: Good lord like he wasn't loud enough, you've managed to unlock both a new kind of sound and a new level of volume from him. Could probably make him cum in his pants if you do it right; stand over him while he's sitting, cup his face and force him to look at you, hit him with the 'good boy' and bam. Hard as a rock.

Marcurio: "Well yes, I already know that, but say it again just for good measure." Tries to keep up that cocky bravado while completely weak in the knees and harder than he was before. Pair it with a small tug of his hair and whether he likes it or not, he's going to moan.

[wellthebardsdead]

Marigold: *standing quietly by his guards and father amongst a gathering of the thalmor across all classes from the lowest new recruits hailing from the farmlands and slums, to the royal family themselves. His hair bound back in a tight strict braid, his robes dark and equally restrictive, and his expression solemn but beautiful behind his fan as he tries to keep cool in Alinors summer heat* …hm? *glances over at a group of new recruits excitedly taking the dance floor with a striking, fast and powerful dance, something the older generation would scoff at and his father would gladly break his legs all over again for even daring to think about attempting*

Lord Varla: Hmph. Look at them. Leaping about like territorial mudskippers. I’ve seen peacocks behave with more restraint, aren’t you glad I chose Ancano to be your betrothed rather than handing you over to these, rabid hounds.

Marigold: yes father. *blinks catching the eye of a very unusual Mer. Dark hair making him stand out from all others in the room, with eyes like emeralds and a charming smile to contrast his sharp and calculating movements. The dance like a battle between all of them, and he was winning effortlessly* hm. *looks up at his father* may I go get some refreshments father? It’s so warm tonight.

Lord Varla: as you wish. And- do avoid engaging with the rabble if you can. The only mer your age you should be engaging with is Caryalind.

Marigold: yes father. *quietly walks off to the refreshments as the song ends and with it the dance, his eyes locked firmly onto the emerald eyed mer with the short dark hair as he goes by, before losing sight of him as the crowd disburses once more, some pairing up for a slower dance, others running off to grab a bite to eat or snuggle up to their betters* Ah- *tries to see past the crowd, younger and more arrogant Mer not knowing who he is or his status simply pushing him this way and that to get past him* ow- hey! That h-hurts! Ugh you insolent ba- *blinks as he feels someone’s hand take his in an unfamiliarly, gentle, grasp* wha- *gasps as the crowd parts and he’s pulled safely from the chaos into the arms of the Mer who’d captured his attention*

Taliesin: *swiftly lets him go remembering his place* A-Ah, a-are you alright my lord?

Marigold: *face flushing a rose gold, some of his curls broken free from his braid and framing his face as his eyes widen and almost sparkle in awe up at him* I-I, y-yes- Yes. *clears his throat and fixes himself before offering his hand to him* and to whom do I owe thanks for saving me?

Taliesin: *mind so focused on his gaze he didn’t even realise he’d spoken* hm? *looks at his hand before panicking* oh! Ah- *takes his hand to kiss it* I’m-

???: LAN-

Taliesin: *jumps hearing part of his name screamed by the familiar voice of his superior* s-sir I was-

Marigold: *steps forward as the justiciar approaches* it’s alright captain, he saved me from some of your more unruly subordinates. *smiles at taliesin* it was nice meeting you, Lan. *walks off quietly*

*several years later*

Taliesin: YOURE MARIGOLD VARLA?! THE MARIGOLD VARLA?! THE BETROTHED TO ANCANO MARIGOLD VARLA?! AND YOU DIDNT THINK ABOUT TELLING ME!?!

Marigold: it didn’t seem important I expected to be dead by now.

[kathrynalicemc]

iolanthe for the name ask? 💞

Iolanthe came about because for some reason I wanted a greek sounding name. Maybe it was because I knew she was going to be extremely into magic and I wanted something long and complex that matched the vibes of like wizardry and power. I found it on a list of Greek names and went “that’s hard to pronounce. Nice”

Arcano already existed at this point as I was adding her to the family so that was already set in stone. However since this is the first ask for an Arcano I’ll tell the story of it. Obviously the family was going to have a whole theme of magic (arcane). I also was inspired by a character in Skyrim called Ancano who was a dick but was part of the Winterhold college of magic questline (iykyk). I was going to straight up use Ancano but I must have misremembered the name and said Arcano instead. But it ended up fitting way more with the whole schools of arcane magic plot of the gifts anyway.

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Ye Big Olde Savos Aren Headcanon Masterpost

(Super long post under the cut)

Short biography

General information:

- Savos is an only child.

- He was born in 4E 5, making him 194 years old by Skyrim time (Elven ages are ugh, but according to the UESP, 200 is old for a dunmer…)

- Savos was born under the apprentice, thus making the month of his birth Sun’s Height.

- He is bisexual.

- He was born in Winterhold and grew up among the city’s large dunmer population.

- Knows Winterhold-dialect Dunmeris, Tamrielic, Nordic, and a tiny bit of Dovahzul.

- His parents owned a tailor shop.  

- He's a second generation immigrant to Skyrim. His parents came to Winterhold shortly after the fall of Baar Dau (I imagine there was a short period of growing volcanic activity before Red Mountain blew up for good), fearing further consequences of the impact. His grandparents lived in Morrowind until their death.

- He has been to Morrowind on several occasions (and he has met Neloth). He has also been to Cyrodiil.

- Savos is not very religious; he was raised to believe in the reclamations, but over the years it has become a matter of “Whichever deity is willing to listen”. However, he does practice ancestor worship in a sense; he regularly leaves a little offering for the dead of the Great Collapse (which included his parents) on the shore below Winterhold. 

- Also, due to the nord/dunmer cultural mixture of his hometown, exclamations like “Shor’s bones!” are just as much a part of his vocabulary as “Azura curse you!”.

Appearance:

- He is fairly short for a dunmer (1,68 metres); he’s just a tiny bit taller than Mirabelle.

- Savos has a Lichtenberg scar (a souvenir from Morokei) running from just below his clavicle all the way to his hips. He’s extremely self-conscious about that and will lash out at anyone questioning his explanation of “magical accident”.

- He has a barely noticeable bald patch (a scar) from when he got hit by an icicle when he was a student.

- He doesn't care much about anyone's looks, including his own. He's clean and knows when to look presentable, but he cares more about being comfy than looking good. Has exactly one outfit for special occasions.

- He's in average shape for his age and lack of physical activity. 

 Social:

- Savos does not like dealing with people in positions of authority. Serious talks with Jarl Korir, for example, are his personal nightmare.

- Although Savos is an introvert through and through, he is not necessarily shy.

- He is not a good public speaker. Even when he was still a teacher he could not capture the crowd. However, those students who still listened would get clear and easily understandable explanations and instructions.

- Savos’ “Love language” is spending time together.

- Savos enjoys giving physical affection but is terrible at receiving it. It’s not that he doesn’t like it (he’s probably quite touch starved), but he has trouble accepting that someone could care for him.

- For that reason, he’s usually the big spoon - even if his partner is taller than him.

- Savos does not like smalltalk a lot. 

- However, if someone captures his interest he has no problem chatting until the early hours of the morning.

- Despite some different opinions about his leadership, Savos still gets along with everyone in the faculty.

- He does not trust Ancano and finds him annoying at times, but the previous headcanon includes him as well.

- Savos is a fairly sensitive guy and it’s easy to tell whether he’s happy, sad or angry. However, he’s often dishonest as to why.

- Savos is one of those people who’ll always promise to do something “later” and then forget about it. Mirabelle often has to remind him of his duties - much to her annoyance.

- Savos is not the type to make enemies (at least on purpose). If he has nothing nice to say to someone, he won’t say anything.

- Although it rarely happens, Savos can hold a grudge (and for a long time, too).

- He and Viarmo are close friends (and spent a night together once)

- Mirabelle Ervine was his student and he is still very close with her.

- Savos is good friends with Tolfdir and the two sometimes go fishing together.

- He's oblivious to Kraldar's "interest" in him and views him as a good friend.

- In fact, Savos is incredibly dense when it comes to flirting.

- Although Savos doesn’t engage with the students all that much, he still feels a sense of pride whenever he hears about their accomplishments.

- He also loves J'zargo’s shenanigans.

- There are some days where he’ll lock himself in his chambers and not open the door to anybody. The rest of the faculty knows to leave him alone on “one of those days”.

- Savos tolerates some crookery as long as it serves the college. For example, although he isn’t happy about Enthir’s business ventures, he realizes that having someone who can procure anything away from the normal supply lines is indeed quite beneficial.

- I like the idea of him being the nephew of Fathis Aren, the court mage in Bravil during the oblivion crisis. Given Fathis’ area of expertise and the possibility of their lifetimes overlapping, it’s not unlikely.

- Savos is not good at comforting others. He’ll let them pour their heart out to him, he’ll listen, but he doesn’t really know how to react afterwards. However, no matter how poorly he may express it, his sympathy is usually earnest.

- He is, however, very good at keeping secrets.

Skills & Knowledge:

- After the battle with Morokei Savos obsessively researched the dragon cult and its priests. Over time he’s come to understand (but not speak!) a tiny bit of Dovahzul.

- Since his conjuration magic was anything but useful against Morokei, Savos picked up restoration magic as soon as he returned to the college.

- Savos toyed with necromancy when he was an apprentice, intrigued by the promise of immortality. After what he did in Labyrinthian, he’s never used a spell of that sort again.

- Savos is extremely skilled with wards and even (re-)discovered different types of wards by combining restoration and conjuration (think of something like ESO’s barrier and bound ward spells).

- He is a good healer and possesses a decent knowledge of anatomy.

- While Savos is not a physical fighter, he still knows how to keep someone from knocking his teeth out (thanks to Hafnar).

- Savos is an average alchemist.

- He can talk backwards, much to the annoyance of Ancano or anyone else he decides to mess with. He also has a talent for deciphering drunken gibberish.

- Savos’ interest in magic, particularly conjuration, was caused and fostered by his uncle and Savos always looked forward to his visits. 

- He is a quick learner but not very studious, which made him an average student. It was his skill with wards that caught the previous archmage’s attention.

- Although he grew up in a tailor shop, he can't sew at all.

- He's a terrible cook.

- Laments that he doesn’t know telekinesis but never actually sits down to learn it.

Attitude, Hopes And Fears:

- Savos is scared of lightning

- Savos tends to be pretty laid back when it comes to pranks and mischief as long as it doesn’t hurt students or staff.

- Savos is quite conflicted about his position as archmage. On the one hand, he’s proud of his station and wants to use it to improve the college, but on the other hand, he’s fully aware that he wouldn’t have gotten the title if Atmah and his other friends were still alive. Not to mention that they died under his leadership.

- Savos is both an optimist and a hopeless idealist. While this combination lets him believe that he can eventually lead the college into a better future, it also often blinds him to reality.

- In his youth, Savos dreamt of travelling the world in search for ancient knowledge - a dream shared by his friend Atmah. After Labyrinthian he buried any aspirations of adventure.

- Ever since Labyrinthian, Savos has trouble with nightmares. He often stays up late.

- He’s tried several methods to help him sleep, such as stuffing his pillow with lavender - a scent which clings to his hair.

- The easiest way to piss him off is to bring up politics.

- Savos rarely gets seriously angry but if he does, he tends to act irrationally.

- Overall Savos is not a brave man. Standing up to Ancano when he took control of the eye was perhaps the bravest things he’s ever done. It was also the most reckless he’s been since Labyrinthian

- He is crippled by a fear of repeating his mistakes.

- He’s well aware of some of his flaws (his lack of social skills, too lax attitude) but denies others, particularly those related to his past failings. 

- In Savos' opinion, a three-headed man-eating horker could apply for a place at the college—so long as it has the aptitude and keeps the man-eating in check, he'll be okay with that.

- He's got an ego the size of a peanut and it's easy to make him doubt himself.

Taste and Favourite things:

- Despite having tried many different beverages from many different parts of Tamriel, his favourite alcoholic drink is still a good mead.

- Savos has a sweet tooth which he doesn’t get to indulge all that often save for the honey he puts in his tea.

- Ever since his first trip to Morrowind, Savos has had a fascination with bugs and as a child, he always wanted a Nix-hound. He got a Nix-hound plushie instead.

- In fact, Savos likes many creepy crawlies others tend to find disgusting. Spiders, worms, bugs, scorpions — he thinks they're fascinating.

- His biggest hobby is gardening, which later led to an interest in alchemy.

- He used to be interested in archaeology (more Atmah’s hobby than his own, still…), but the expedition to Labyrinthian put a damper on that.

- His favourite food are honey nut treats, though his dad’s fish soup is the one he misses the most.

- His favourite colour is pine green, followed by the deep dark blue of the ocean.

- Savos enjoys going for a walk along the shore every once in a while.

- He is an avid reader with a preference for nonfiction, travel logs in particular. They're good for dreaming oneself away from bleak old Winterhold…

Random Headcanons:

- He’s a blanket thief.

- Savos has two standard sleeping positions: rolled halfway off the bed and blanket burrito.

- Savos is a cheerful drunk overall. However, he also becomes quite reckless if inebriated.

- Despite having lived in Winterhold all his life, he is not at all good at dealing with the cold.

- Savos is a clean but not very orderly person and the chances of finding anything in his quarters without asking is slim.

- He is an absolute night owl and has the bad habit of sleeping in his favourite chair rather than his bed. 

- Savos is not good with children. He likes them all right; he just doesn’t know what to do with them.

- However, he does stand by his opinions. In fact, he can be quite stubborn.

- Savos still has that plush nix hound mentioned above. It’s in… well-loved condition.

- Savos was the type of kid who'd always try to get out of doing chores. He spent most of his childhood playing in the streets with the other kids of the crafter's quarter. He remembers that time fondly.

- He had a very good relationship with his parents that continued into adulthood, despite their disappointment about him joining the college rather than taking over the tailor shop. 

Savos Dadcanons

- Okay so first off I can’t see Savos planning to have kids. The college is no place to raise a child (neither is Winterhold, for that matter) so if he became a father, it would be by accident. As such, I think he’d be happy but also very, very worried.

- However, when he gets to hold his kid for the first time he just turns into a joyous puddle on the floor (like, not literally, but his knees would be very weak and he’d shed few tears).

- He doesn’t really know what to do with children and that really becomes apparent when he has to handle the baby. But damn he’d try. He has probably read every book on childcare the arcanaeum has to offer, though granted there may not be too many of those.

- He’s overall not one for random silliness (I can’t see him making faces at the child or making babytalk, for example) but he’d smile and laugh a lot more around his kid.

- Also cuddles. At first Savos is a little scared of handling the child bc it’s so small and vulnerable, but eventually he’d enjoy holding the them.

- He’d try to teach his kid as much as he possibly could, though not through books and dry teaching. He’d definitely show his kid the garden or venture out into Winterhold at night to watch the stars. In a modern AU he’d absolutely be the dad building a baking soda volcano who’d then be almost as excited as the kid when the volcano explodes.

- There aren’t many children in Winterhold so Savos would be concerned that his child can’t make many -if any- friends. At some point he considered summoning a friend for them before realising that that’s a horrible idea.

- He’d continue his own dad’s bedtime story tradition.

- Savos would be a bit of a worrywart though; he’s lost so many students already so he’d definitely try and shelter his kid a bit. He’d teach them wards as soon as possible.

- He’d absolutely encourage some mischief.

- In fact, I don’t think he’d be a strict parent at all. It’d fall to his SO or Mirabelle to teach the child some boundaries. 

- As a healer, he is entirely unfazed by anatomy and awkward puberty topics. For example, he can give his child The Talk just fine, they just shouldn’t ask him how things feel\taste\etc. He’s a very private man and would get flustered at having to reveal things about his love life.

- He’d always stay a bit insecure about his parenting skills though, even when the child is all grown up. Is he a good dad? Did he raise a responsible adult? Did he prepare his child for all that’s out there? Late at night, he’d wonder.

- At any rate, Savos is by no means #1 dad, but he’d grow into it and he’d always be there for his child, even in case of potentially massive fuck ups.

Savos Adult Headcanons:

The NSFW alphabet