#finding ancano

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

New crackship idea: Jolinar x Ancano

Nin, I love the way you think.

Truly the most hilarious of all possible Jolinar ships.

[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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[babyblueetbaemonster]

TES crushes

Tagged by @redyn-nerevarine <3 Thank you. This is so fun. You're sending me back to all my brain rots XD

Tagging @the-sunlit-earth, @hannah-heartstrings, @wispstalk, @apollinariafh, @thescrolls-haveforetold, @devilrose, @falmerbrook, @everybodyknows-everybodydies, @skyrim-forever, @truth-01001001-liar, @cheeseandstrawberrytartlover, @roumanelli, @mjrdm, @da3drat, @groundrootvegetable, @elavoria, @dirty-bosmer, @sylvienerevarine, and anyone who want to share. (sorry for letting the tag getting out of hands, i just think this is really fun)

Farkas

He's just a lil guy and he's my

✨WEREWOLF BOYFRIEND✨

Ancano

Have I told you I love banana elves? Yeah, he's one of the first banana elf I met and he does magic and wears cool black coat and is evil for no good reason. I just really like him and love to annoy him.

Sheogorath

He's a funny man. Back when I first play Skyrim, people all said Daedra are dangerous. Then I saw Sheo just chilling with a tea party. And that's only Skyrim Sheo. Then I play Morrowind, he gives us the silliest quest with the most beautiful voice ever (turns out it's Oblivion Haskill's voice, too. Also Dagoth Ur's. Also every Dunmer in Morrowind's. I love you Jeff Baker). And then! Shivering Isles DLC's Sheo. The entire DLC is perfect, and Sheo himself is so expressive and full of character. He's a crazy genius and I love him. Also his Daggerfall design is so pretty, too. Who knew he has red hair. (also cat sheo cute :3)

Delphine

Unpopular opinion. I think Delphine is cool. Of course I hate it when she bully me to kill my dragon grandpa. But before that, she's a secret Blade spy disguised as a inn keeper. The moment I saw her changed into full armor in front of me had blown my mind. And then she immediately run all the way to kill a dragon! How cool is that?! And I also find it funny she has the same taste as Maven and let me wear the same clothes as her in the party XD.

Flame Atronach

Cool firing demon ladies. Amazing design.

Martin

He's so nice and genuine. Also he's so worry about us when we left him for our missions.

And he didn't admit it XD

He helped the people in Kvatch, helped us decrypting the evil book, and basically single handedly saved the world. He did all these and still not believe he's worthy to be an emperor. And when we're doing the Daedric Artifact quest, he is being so clam and none judging about our decision. Our HOK could be the most insane nonsense guy, but he still like us, and just want to be our friend.

Baurus

He's so cool. He fights along side us, and is always happy to see us. After we kill the Mythic Dawn agent in the basement he still find it necessary to greed us properly.

And when we're back to Cloud Ruler Temple, he's so happy to see us he teaches us some cool tricks aka free skill boosts.

Volanaro

Banana elf, check. Funny guy, check. Do magic, check. This guy has everything I ever wanted.

Dagoth Ur

(It's probably weird to say it at the end, but I don't think I have romantic feeling towards them. I just think they're neat and they're my blorbos <3 Anyway, thank you for coming to my tes talk)

[whitegoldtower]

It’s been a fat while since I’ve done one of these but you guys seem to like them so in lieu of the one I keep getting notifs for:

How the Skyrim NPCs Initiate kisses!

Ondolemar: tries to do it as nonchalantly and as casually as possible. You’re sat down reading? He’s weird about it and kisses the back of your head. Stood next to him? He turns his face and kisses your shoulder. All completely deadpan and lightning fast before resuming his military stance. It’s oddly comical. But - that’s when there’s people around. If nobody else is around and you’ve been teasing him, you’re gonna end up pinned against the war table.

Ancano: Is so awkward just put him out of his misery. He will keep trying to psych himself up for it and move to stand DIRECTLY in your path, ready to grab you by the hips and kiss your soul out, but it just looks like he’s standing in your way to be a twat. Breathing heavily. He goes to speak but stutters and gives himself the ick and just walks off. CATCH HIM. Push that mfer into a darker corner of the arcaneum where you know nobody is watching. He’ll have a mini panic, but will then start looking at your lips. His pupils will dilate, his breathing will hitch. His ears and neck and nose will flush and he’ll lean in to catch your lower lip in his mouth with a helpless little mewl.

Elenwen: You can read her body language and know what’s about to happen. She starts to lowly purr her words, her spine sensuously straightens out, making her appear even taller, somewhere between a cobra rearing to strike and a prowling mountain lion. Her ‘kissing’ smile, is a subtle pout and quirk of the left corner of her lips, and she presses her thighs together with want. Elenwen will lean against the nearest surface and command you, ‘Come here.’ And then her fingers will curl around your lovely neck, and she will be upon you with surprising gentleness.

Serana: won’t kiss you, chump.

Lydia: As soon as she knows you’re interested, that’s it, she’s taking you to pound town. You’re getting more than just a kiss. If there’s furniture between you? She’s vaulting over it in a way that she manages to make weirdly hot? ??? The fucking suavest slickest most rizzful table vault and slide you’ve ever seen melt into a smooth and confident saunter as she gets to you, grabs you by the front of your armour and aggressively yanks you into a searingly hot kiss. She growls as she does it. Girlie’s been pining.

Vingalmo: You honestly cannot tell whether your hubris has lead to him being about to attack you and tear you limb from limb, or if he’s equally as interested, because he will be watching you throughout the night. More than usual. You will feel his eyes upon you and shudder, but whether in fear or delight? You’ve fucked around and you’re about to find out. He strikes in the empty library, when all the others have retired to their coffins. You didn’t see him - you were too focused on trying to perfect that new poison, leant over the alchemy table. But you hear him; a quiet hum of approval, and then you feel him: cool hands slipping like silk over your lower abdomen from behind as he flattens himself against your back and kisses the side of your neck, just behind your jaw and below the ear. If you’re an elf, the next thing he does is trace over the tip of your ear with his tongue, before pulling back and giving you chance to turn around so he can kiss you properly. 100/10 best kisser in Skyrim, has had centuries of practice and kisses like a god. Count yourself lucky.

Vilkas: hates being kissed and hates kissing. I don’t know why. Sensory thing? Probably. He’ll kiss your cheek at most and will still wipe his mouth afterwards. No offence to you, kissing just ain’t his cup of tea.

Farkas: smoochy smoochy 24/7. Has a whole range of ways to initiate a kiss, but tends to do his lighthearted-but-deeply-horny standing too close behind you, so that his hips bump your backside and you can feel his breath on your neck, which prompts you to turn around and then he sweeps you up into the cuddle-kiss wombo combo. He does it at the stupidest moments. Finished fighting a horde of draugr and are now crawling through a narrow cave passage? Farkas thinks it’s time to go to a different bone zone. He doesn’t control when the horny strikes. First thing in the morning? He’s against your ass again, kneading your hips with his hands and huffing softly against your neck. He nudges your ear with his nose and actually very politely asks for a kiss.

Cicero: His demeanour shifts jarringly. All of a sudden, he’s quiet, and each of his steps towards you are calculated. You freeze in your seat, unsure whether to get up and run or stay put- “Stay right there, silly…” He whispers, and then straddles your lap. For someone so small, he’s actually quite heavy, but you know that muscle weighs more than fat, and that under that jester’s outfit is the body of a very lean and dextrous assassin. He’s warm, borderline hot, as his body presses against yours, as he nestles his backside further into the comfort of your pelvis and then leans in purposefully, to pin you against that chair, his hands around your hands, guiding them to his hips as he kisses you deeply, slanting his lips against yours and nipping your tongue if you dare to attempt to explore his mouth before he can explore yours. Cicero likes having the upper hand.

[dirty-bosmer]

TES Crushes

Which NPCs in TES (all games included!) do you crush on, and why? They don't have to be marriage candidates (in vanilla), just people you find yourself blushing around. Hell, it could be a Deadric Prince if that's what you're into. Name them and say what about them you find appealing! Then feel free to tag a friend or two!

Tagged by @babyblueetbaemonster @theoneandonlysemla Thank you <3

Tagging: @ladytanithia @unironicallytes @gilgamish @kookaburra1701 @saltymaplesyrup @rustyram035 @darcxaosit @moriche @pocket-vvardvark @heavy-metal-dick @alma-amentet @pyre-of-pages @guardianlizard

Borrowing some of Julia's number scheme cause it's nice organization :)

#1: Characters I crushed on during my first ever playthrough as a wee lass:

Methredhel: 10 year old me spent countless hours watching her sleep in that huntsman vest/bralett outfit XD

M'raaj-Dar: Young me was so predictable. Some character is mean to me? Gotta make sure I fall in love with them and do everything in my power to get them to like me. Then he apologized to me right before the purification and I knew I was done for. After the purification, I hoisted his body onto a bed in the living quarters and surrounded him with flowers lol

Enilroth: That one stable boy in Anvil who places the last of Mathieu Bellamont's fake dead-drops out for you. I thought he was so normal looking in a game where everyone looked like they were melting.

Cutter: I just thought she was pretty.

Relmyna Verenim: Being a crazy mad scientist devoted to your passions is hawt.

#2: Characters I crush on now:

The Ordinators in Morrowind. It's the ten packs a day ash-choked voice.

Dagoth Ur. He invaded my dreams with a wedding ceremony. I'm pretty sure we've moved past the prosaic love confession. We are now bounded in our blood.

Nazir: He will always be Skyrim's Sexyman to me <3

Astrid: I'm a simple gal. I see a woman who does fucked up things being torn to shreds by the fandom, I 👀

Arquen: Same as above. She’s a baddie to me and I don’t care about the rumor where she ate Lucien’s entrails, that just makes her weirder and sexier 💕

Raminus Polus: He's smart and gives you a fancy necklace and tells you that you're doing a good job, like what else do I need really?

Mathieu Bellamont: the only man I will ever call baby girl. Love a revenge arc. Love a twisted obsession. I genuinely dgaf that he single-handedly wrecked the Dark Brotherhood, maybe the Black Hand should not have been so trigger happy and eager for self-destruction!

Lucien Lachance: Despite the hundreds of thousands of words I've written about him, my feelings for Lucien are kind of complicated 😅 I don’t dislike him, but at some point while writing my fic I realized I gaslit myself into believing he was hotter than he is lol Upon replay, I was like 'man this dude is such a scrub I have to write him to be as creepy and dripless as possible,' which like... I'm still into lol I just feel like a fake fan for it.

Ondolemar: Unique, kissable lips, him degrading me in public only to whip out that, 'there are so few pleasures in life as fine as your company' once he realized he wanted me, oooooh girl

Razum-Dar: I wanted him SO BADLY during the Aldmeri Dominion quests.

#3 Characters I actually married in game:

Nels Llendo: Had a mod to make it possible for my Morrowind playthrough. He killed all the cliff racer for me :)

Jenassa: She might be the only character I ever married on my main LDB's save, and it was actually so devastating because all she would do was stand in the foyer of Proudspire Manor with no clothes on, asking about kids we never had. Look how the glitches massacred my girl :(

Derkeethus: I married him on my Arch-mage save but only on PC because he too was glitched and every time I told him to go home he would run away!!!

#4: Characters I’m only crushing on because of Fics I read

@theoneandonlysemla's Ancano and Faralda I'm so weak for horribly, toxic elves. Yes, abuse your power! Make everyone around you miserable!

@sylvienerevarine's Roggi Knot-Beard. Had no idea who this man was until Sophrine rolled into his life, and from then on I was smitten. Wholesome, sexy, husband of the year <3

@skyrim-forever's Aicantar. Scholarly, bashful mage nerd <3 I actually always thought Aicantar was a cutie and had considered marrying him on one playthrough because even with cheat codes, a lot of the Altmer characters don't have voice lines for marriage. Aicantar's voice made him a suitable candidate.

#5 Characters that have made me 👀 but in an way that makes me embarrassed

The Spider Daedra from Oblivion. I was obsessed with her rack LMAO

Dremora: something about unintelligible, guttural screams and fiery eyes, I think...

Molag Bal. I also blame this one on @theoneandonlysemla

[throughtrialbyfire]

dropping some skyrim character headcanons - physical affection edition <3 gender neutral, tried to make them as relationship ambiguous as possible.

-brynjolf - early on, he's not very receptive to touch. a pat on the shoulder, that usual, hard-handed kind that he gives anyone he's friends with, is pretty much all you'll get at first. but once he warms up to you, you can expect a big shoulder-hug and a ruffle of the hair, no matter the relationship you two share. -cicero - clingy. clingy clingy clingy CLINGY. he LOVES affection. oh, the moment you show that you're receptive to his attempts at affection, he just melts. whether it's grabbing your shoulders to make you dance a little bit with him, grasping your hand, full on sprinting to you to give you a hug when you get back to the sanctuary, he's all for it, because it means you're there. it means that you've accepted him, and to him, any bit of acceptance from the listener can make him into a doting fool. -serana - extremely shy at first. she's uncomfortable with people in general, but after a while of traveling together, getting to know you, she begins to warm up. it may only be brushing your hands against one anothers or her head on your shoulder or standing close to one another for a long time, but she does enjoy your presence, and wants you to know she's here, through thick and thin. -gelebor - by auri-el he's touch-starved. he'll never admit it out loud, but he does miss even the smallest gestures of affection. he, like serana, is also excruciatingly shy. but he does try to make the effort to reach out first, whether it be the tiniest squeeze of your hand to reassure you when things get rough, or the gentlest press of his palm on your upper back. once he's assured you're comfortable with it, there's little to stop him from sitting with you by a warm fire, shoulder-to-shoulder, just enjoying the fact there's another living being beside him. -nazir - you know how some people will ask you to do things for/with them as an excuse to spend time together? yeah thats nazir. whether it be asking you to help him put together a particularly strong poison, sort coin for a job, help chop something up for a new recipe he's working on, or write down/work out a contract for the brotherhood, he's using this as a chance to spend time with you. and if it winds up with the two of you brushing hands, sitting close together, him guiding your hand on something, then that's how it is. if you're comfortable with it, he will wrap an arm around your shoulder casually or lean against you, just to be near you. -ancano - haha, good luck <3 it takes a lot to get near him, as he keeps everyone about ten feet away at all times. however, once you do manage to break through that icy exterior… well, he'll say he doesn't like physical affection, that he finds someone playing with his hair demeaning, that oh, he absolutely abhors someone putting their arms around him and burying their face in his chest, but… we all know otherwise. he will pretend to hate it, he will whine and grumble and sigh dramatically the entire time, but he'll also do this while melting into your touch and allowing himself the first bit of comfort he's felt in a very long time. -miraak - he's not very big on affection for a while after getting out of apocrypha. it's been thousands of years, he's kind of forgotten what it's like for another living thing to touch him, to actually want to be near him. but after spending enough time together, he'll find himself sleeping closer to you for warmth at night and then thinking about it the next day. it kind of hits all at once, how much he does miss feeling another person near him. so, once you two are comfortable around one another, he'll probably give you an awkward side hug or sit with his shoulder to yours. the small things, but they mean a lot.

[ego-osbourne]

what are the masq's favorite foods?

Omg is this an ask? Is this ozzy answering an ask?? Could it be??? Yes it is hi. <:] ty for your patience. I’ll be real this one is from October //dies//

Beautiful thanks to @liches-covered-in-lich and @bforblitz for help with some of these! I’m not a real foodie so their suggestions were very greatly appreciated!

From left to right, top to bottom:

Ego really likes sweets of any kind, but fruit especially. Not many fruits grow in Skyrim, so it’s a good thing they like jazbay grapes. Very sweet, very good in icing-covered sweet bread <3

Erandur is a northern Skyrim native, and his love for horker stew proves it. It’s a filling comfort meal that warms you to the core <3 (recc’d by @.liches)

Miraak’s favorite food from Atmoran culture was chebureki, a seemingly simple but very tasty turnover, usually made with horker meat. They’re filling and warm too! <3 (recc’d by @.liches, based off of the Slavic-Atmora headcanon)

Ancano, being from Summerset, loves some spicy seafood. This variant of yangnyeom-gejang is made with the small mudcrabs found along the Isles! He doesn’t find much of this meal in Skyrim, but he wants to try and recreate it as best he can with Skyrim’s massive mudcrabs <3 (recc’d by @.blitz, based off of the Asian-Summerset headcanon)

Sam is all about anything sweet and fruity, somewhat similarly to Ego. However, his taste leans more towards candies than pastries. So, caramel apples <3 (recc’d by @.liches)

Rakell, while following the Green Pact, doesn’t have a whole lot of options for incredibly flavorful things but his comfort food is ground beef saturated in egg yolks + more eggs on top. It’s very easy to prepare and extremely filling, could get him through a whole day. Plus, super protein-heavy <3 (when not following the Green Pact, he really loves some strawberries)

And Delphine, being from the TES equivalent of Rome (Imperial City), loves herself pasta of any kind. The one-pot sausage pasta is a conglomeration of noodles, meats, sauces, and spices that she can whip up, store separately, and mix together for days of travel to come <3

[firefly-factory]

Astra

I finally (mostly) finished this drawing of Astra!!!

The reason I say "mostly" finished is because I think I'll keep adding to the library over time! I originally had it all beige and undefined, but then thought it would be fun to actually draw in fics I've read recently.

Special thanks to @changelingsandothernonsense (author of Sleepers Awake) and @skyrim-forever (author of We Will Find a Way and The Book of Love) for letting me add your stories into my art. I really love y'all's work and can't wait to read more <3

~

A little bit of character lore for Astra:

One thing that I almost forgot in the earlier draft of this painting was Astra's war paint.

Astra's mother, Elowyn, was a Priestess of Mara, and had a symbol of Mara tattooed on her forehead. After Elowyn's death, Astra started to wear war paint in imitation and honor of her mother.

Although she doesn't tend to tell people, another reason why she began wearing her war paint was because it made her look less like her father, Ancano.

She met him for the first time when he delivered the news of Elowyn's death, and it was jarring to hear such horrible news from a stranger that looked just like her.

She hasn't gotten the marks tattooed for a few reasons. The first is that her mother's tattoo was done as part of her initiation into the Temple, and Astra doesn't want to accidentally disrespect something her mother held sacred. The second is that she's come to like the ritual of daily applying the warpaint like makeup. Even in the most hectic of days, it gives her a moment to sit and be still for a moment.

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

miralda, the cartographer

the cartographer: a crossroads, exploration

“Left or right?”

The gelid walls of the lower Midden, rimed and somehow still wet as they are, seem to swallow sound where they should instead echo back. Likely it is some fault of the carpet of cobwebs, catching whispers just as well as whatever unfortunate small prey find themselves here. The creak of ice and a distant drip-drip are harder to place in one’s surroundings, softened so. Despite all this and the quiet skittering from elsewhere, the way they’ve come has been relatively unimpeded. She could almost think the path cleared in advance.

The master wizard looks at her again, expectant, and Faralda says aloud, “You’ve seemed perfectly capable of charting the course thus far. I am, in fact, still unclear why you’ve brought me along at all.”

“Well, you make a decent torch,” says the master wizard lightly, and turns left.

Something twitches in her brow. She measures her steps shorter, so as not to outpace her. “I see. Have you been wasting in administrative work so long you’ve forgotten how to cast a magelight?”

In answer, a flick of black-gloved fingers puts a ball of frozen light overhead, silvering the webbing matted along the floor and ceiling as brightly as the argent shot through her dark hair. “Satisfactory?”

“Unsurprising.” The master wizard glances back with a start. Faralda ducks under a long strand of cobweb dangling from the ceiling, one arm overhead to keep it from catching. “You brought me along for a job you do yourself anyway.”

The master wizard halts abruptly, stands like a very short spire amid a sea of spiderwebs. It is, though, finally, Mirabelle’s wry sliver-smile that casts her way when she says, “Are you suggesting I have trouble delegating?”

“What did the Psijic really want?” She shifts her jaw, does not move to brush the thin white thread from Mirabelle’s shoulder despite the thought thrumming down her arm into her fingertips. “To have us traipse through the Midden in the dark? In search of—?”

“I didn’t leave it that dim,” objects Mirabelle. Then her mouth sets, thin and grim, and she holds up a hand, steeled eyes caught on something on the floor.

Faralda looks down. A perfect heelprint, disturbing the spiders’ work, stiff and sharp and not from the sort of boot any of theirs would wear. Understanding, she takes a step in the direction it points, and finds another half a print just under the length of her own stride.

The path, it seems, has indeed been cleared in advance.

“I will hope,” the master wizard murmurs, “that no Psijic advised our pioneer to pay a visit to the Augur as well.” She straightens herself, braced for whatever they may find ahead. “‘Your efforts should be directed toward dealing with the aftermath.’ That is what the Psijic had to say. He could not, or would not, say the aftermath of what. And the unfortunate thing about aftermath is that it comes—after.”

“That is generally the case, yes,” Faralda says, voice lowered to match hers. “Helpful of him.” Vague but urgent, just as he had seemed at the gate—the Psijic had materialized, seemingly to his own surprise as much as hers, halfway up the incline to the gatehouse, and busied himself straightening his fine yellow robes.

He had not bothered to introduce himself. He had not needed to, in truth. I believe one of my colleagues, he had said instead, to interrupt her interrogatory inhale, spoke with one of your colleagues? And she had thought of their archivist, one thumb pressed to the worried corner of her own mouth in thought, telling her, There was something—someone else, there, in Saarthal—

With her magelight caught again in her palm, the master wizard studies the distance between the prints. “It is Ancano that’s always putting himself where he’ll look taller when you come by, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t noticed such a thing.”

“Haven’t you? Hm.” She cups her other hand around the light. “Onward, then.”

Toward, optimistically, somewhat more auspicious augury, and not a prowling Thalmor or three. Regardless, Faralda takes a breath, readies a precautionary ember at the tip of her tongue. “I see now. I’m not a torch; I’m a ruler.”

“Please,” Mirabelle admonishes. The shadows of her fingers round her magelight flicker across her cheeks, make them look hollower than they are; stark contrast even as she continues with her solemn expression never faltering, “You are at least a yardstick.”

[skyrim-forever]

Moodboard for @theoneandonlysemla for her wonderfully awful and messy Ancano/Faralda which you can find here: A Tale of Hunt

I absolutely recommended, he's so terrible and I especially enjoy seeing him become more and more pathetic overtime <3

I hope I did them justice <3

[the-elder-polls]

smash or pass: ancano

oh this is a rough one. i understand his appeal, i really do, but i find him grating. i'd smash if i get to be the dom and peg him but that's it. im not letting him flop like a fish for 2.5 seconds

SALEM'S FUCK REVIEW: pass

[ladytanithia]

Today, Sujamma wants to know about your OC's moral compass. What God do they worship and why? Do they engage in any illicit activities (drugs, etc?) Any holy activities, like healing in the name of a certain divine? Have they committed any crimes, or are there any crimes they actively despise? Feel free to talk about anything and everything along these lines.

@lillxart wants to know about Balinor, my first character, the adopted Khajiit! Wow! Sadly, I haven't done anything with him in over a year, maybe even two!

Let's see... Balinor is kind of an example that shows you don't have to be religious to be fraught with guilt. *LOL* He had a strong moral compass when he first came to Skyrim. He was young and relatively sheltered by his adoptive parents, though he had still put up with some racism along the way to adulthood. He was raised by a Nord couple on a small farm in northern Cyrodiil, similar to Miranja. His parents were secret Talos-worshippers, but he himself never felt any compulsion to be religious. But his parents made sure he was educated and taught right from wrong.

When he came to Skyrim, he started learning about the moral shades of gray pretty quickly. It started when he found that the only way to find out what those interesting jewels he kept finding were, was to get in with the Thieves Guild, who seemed to be the only ones that had someone who could appraise them. He felt terrible having to threaten the locals he'd already made friends with, and he was never really sure that his later apologies were fully accepted.

He married Lydia and adopted Sofie and Lucia, but also got involved with the Dark Brotherhood, which was simple enough for the first contract or two, until he had to kill a young woman at her wedding. By that time, he'd stopped taking Lydia absolutely everywhere with him because he felt guilty about leaving the girls alone for too long, and they needed a mother figure to teach them the skills they'd need as adults. His job was mostly to give them gifts and love and hugs, and stern remonstrances when they didn't want to do chores or go to bed. Oh, and keep them from finding out what sort of things he was feeling forced into doing for a living.

But then on one of the bandit raids he actually took Lydia on, she took a serious blow to the head and was no longer able to control her primary motor skills. He adventured without her for a while, but knew she was unhappy staying home while he took other people with him, so when the time came to find the Staff of Magnus at Labyrinthian, he took her with him, for good or bad. They made it through okay, but she was somehow killed in the battle with Ancano back at the college.

Now he was really questioning his life choices. He had two little girls depending on him, who were now practically raising themselves. He felt damned and tried to convince himself that he didn't care anymore, he'd just do what he was told and distance himself from the acts and their repercussions. But he did care. He hated killing people without knowing what they'd done. He hated stealing from and framing people, some of whom were his own friends. And he hated living a double life and lying to his daughters and appeasing them with money and gifts and a few moments of his time here and there.

At the current point in his story, which hasn't all been written, he has killed the emperor with deep misgivings, and he's trying to decide whether life is even worth living anymore at this point. Maybe he could talk to someone, like Erandur, and decide to turn his life over to Mara. He once spent a while traveling with Mjoll after Lydia died, because she had lost Aerin, and they had their grief and loneliness in common. Maybe he could get together with Mjoll, find love again. Or maybe he could just off himself and leave everything to his daughters. Maybe he would ask for someone to fight him to the death, so he could die in battle and join Lydia in Sovngarde.

[wellthebardsdead]

Evalien: *walking up to the collage of winterhold* Caryalind potion, marigold, Taliesin, hood up.

Marigold: what? Why?

Evalien: Ancano.

Marigold: …What?

Taliesin: Ancano?! Here?!

Evalien: no in morrowind, yes he’s here! *points ahead to the high elf in front of the main doors*

Marigold: shit- *pulls his hood up and covers his face with his cowl*

Taliesin: *does the same* you know him flower?

Marigold: he’s my- was, my fiancé, before I disappeared.

Caryalind: *pops an invisibility potion and downs it* ugh yep still gross. I thought he was based in Markarth still-

Marigold: evidentially not…

Flynt: *places his hand to his sword and moves in front of him smelling Ancanos scent and recognising it from the embassy* hmm…

Kaidan: *nods to inigo and steps up beside Evalien to act as her bodyguard* hands on blades.

Inigo: yes brother.

Evalien: *walks up to the doors ignoring Ancano as she waits for the Breton woman to finish reprimanding him*

Mirabelle: We’re done her- oh hello. A new student? Welcome to the collage of winterhold.

Evalien: not a student. I require access to the arcanum… and is, there a little dunmer named Wyrm here? I have a package for him.

Mirabelle: Little Pearl? Oh yes you’ll find him in the arcanum. Just through the doors and to your right. I take it, it’s important given your heavily armed guards?

Evalien: thank you, and yes. It’s of high importance.

Ancano: Anything of high importance coming through these doors must be reported to the thalmor.

Evalien: *turns to face him as her mask opens showing her purple skin and other dwemer characteristics* go hug a land mine.

[virginianmetrofaerie]

ondolemar headcanons bc again WE ARE LACKING

please bear with me i am a; autistic and b; obsessed with grumpy bald men. Some NSFW and Romance headcanons but nothing too explicit.

Not exactly middle aged, but not some sweet young thing either. If we're going off the idea that a 200 year old Altmer is elderly, then Ondolemar would probably be in the 75-85 year old range; the human equivalent of about 34-38. Not afraid of growing older, as in his eyes, age and wisdom is something to be respected and desired rather than feared and lamented.

Most definitely a little inbred. His bloodline is long, respected, and as pure as it gets (mostly thanks to getting a couple cousins together every now and then).

I saw something on a tes forum discussing how the Thalmor most likely occupied the majority of the Noble upper echelon in the Summerset Isles. This would be the case for Ondolemar, his father being a high-ranking Thalmor officer, and the same as his father before him.

Being the blueprint of racial purity and male attractiveness in Altmer society, Ondolemar is likely very popular with the ladies. Most definitely has a girl somewhere in every port across the Empire. However...

There has been significant pressure from his family to marry and produce an heir to carry on his family's name (especially going off the canon idea that Altmer only produce 1-2 children per couple). However, it is also an idea that Ondolemar has been putting off. He finds himself quickly bored and annoyed by any women that cross his path and desires someone that will challenge him. Frankly, he wants a woman that he can court and chase and put effort into wooing over, rather than it being the other way around.

Cares less than he actually shows about the intermixing of races across Tamriel, though is very adamant on Elven Supremacy (however, does have fascination and respect for Argonians and Khajiit). However, he will not touch a woman who is not another Altmer, unlike some of his other Thalmor colleagues such as Ancano who has most definitely had a cheeky roll in the hay with an Imperial or Dunmer woman.

A great enjoyer of sex, and is quite good at it too. Most likely going a little nuts in Markarth as the only other Altmer there are his two blokes™ as well as Calcemo and Aicantar.

Very wealthy, both generationally and through his own efforts. Doesn't flaunt his wealth, but definitely enjoys the finer things in life; expensive imported wine, high quality leather, fine art, exotic food... the list goes on. One thing he noted about Skyrim was the lack of industries supporting such exuberant wealth; in Summerset, most individuals, even the middle class, were wealthy to a degree, thus most of the industry advertised luxury and premium items. If anything, the humbleness of life in Skyrim impressed him (after he got over his initial repulsion).

I headcanon that he does own property in Skyrim; though he has an office in Understone Keep for the purpose of investigating Talos Worship in Markarth, he has been provided an abode nearby by the Embassy. He also would own private property in a more Imperial city, such as Solitude, as a means to get away when he is given some time off.

Very religious, and takes his job rather seriously, though is absolutely sick of it, and sick of Elenwen.

Skyrim had not been his first post, yet his most recent and his least desired. He had been stationed in Summerset, Elsewyr, Valenwood, and very briefly in Cyrodil Previously. Elsewyr had been his favorite; he enjoyed the culture of Khajiit as well as the tropical weather.

[whitegoldtower]

NPCs if you tickle them:

Ancano: is extremely ticklish and will smack you across the head with a book before you can even touch him. If you sneak attack him, though, he will let out a very undignified shriek, drop whatever is in his hands and give you an absolute earful.

Ondolemar: Is mildly ticklish, but hides it well. He forces himself to stand still and asks you if you’re done yet. If you catch him off guard, he will turn around with a face like thunder until he realises it’s you.

Vingalmo: isn’t ticklish at all. Takes your hands, places them back in your lap and tells you not to touch what you can’t afford. Or, he takes it as flirtation and tickles you back with a purr and a wink.

Serana: jumps and slaps your arm with quite a bit of force. She does see the funny side of it, though, and asks if your arm is ok.

Babette: do you want to lose your fingers? It might be tempting to see the eternal child and go “tickle wickle!!” but I’d strongly advise against it. Nobody knows whether she is actually ticklish or not because nobody gets away with it.

Lydia: Isn’t ticklish, is just confused. Unless you tickle the front of her neck, then you’re going to find her fist in your face. Don’t put your hands near her face, she really doesn’t like it.

J’Zargo: touch his belly, you die. Touch him in general, you die. However, provided that you’re good friends, if you get his sides or back, he will ask you to scritch a little. Tickle him under the chin and he will start purring. He might even dribble a bit and then be horribly embarrassed about it.

Cicero: will piss himself. And I mean that literally. Don’t tickle the poor man, he can’t handle it.

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

hi! it's been far too long since ive done this, but classes have been kicking my ass. next semester is my last at this college, so i'm trying to get as much done as possible <3

thank you to the lovely @captain-of-silvenar for tagging me, and to everyone who has been tagging me in my absence!!

tagging @orfeoarte @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @viss-and-pinegar and whoever wants to do this and hasnt been tagged!!

this week, i bring the rough draft of the rewritten first chapter of An Inner Sanctity. ancano wakes up to find himself in an unfamiliar setting with intense pain he can't find a source for… and someone else in the cabin with him.

The room was dark. Lit only by a hearth, or some other fire. He could almost hear it crackle, if not for the shooting, electric pain digging into him like a hot knife. It ran in wild arcs from his lower spine, up through his shoulders and down through the legs, into his head until it pounded. He strangled a cry mid-way from his mouth and choked on air, face balled tight in an effort to shut it off, but that only served to intensify the tension in his head. He laid back on the pillow, coated in a new layer of cold sweat, lungs ragged in their attempts to keep any air in them. He tried to move, kicking his legs like stubborn carts laden with ore, but they were too heavy to move under the quilts and his own exhaustion. The pain dulled, first a slow glimmer of softening, then it dissipated into thudding behind his eyes. His ears pounded with blood rushing through them, his muscles heavy and uncomfortable. It was as though he had been speared through with a burning iron blade, but as he lifted his shaking hands to his face and touched the skin beneath, he could not feel anything out of the ordinary. His features were a bit sharper, perhaps. And the thin, oily coat of sweat didn't help any matters, either. He couldn't tell where he was, nor why the room was dim, nor why the quilts were there. Was he asleep? How long had he been asleep? The last thing he'd seen is that wave of… What was it, was that magicka? Not like anything he'd ever seen before. But it had slammed into him, knocking him back towards a wall, and a force had shocked through him to his core, and then…

A door opened near where he lay. Ancano shut his eyes. He slowed his breathing as the trudge of footsteps drew closer, a bowl sloshing with water. The guise of sleep would afford him enough time to take them by surprise, to shove them aside and paralyze them before he made his escape. Then, he'd run to the Thalmor Embassy and let them know what had happened at that dreadful College, barring a few details, of course. After all, it was only natural that the one to wield such an artifact such as the Eye should want to keep it for himself, is it not? A warm, wet washcloth swept over the ridge of his brow, the hand who held it moving in slow, gentle motions. He could feel their fingers as they gripped the cloth, and brought it down to his cheeks, over his eyes, and around his mouth. It took all of his strength not to protest the sensation, but he remained still and quiet as a corpse, and allowed the motions to fall over him. The cloth set aside somewhere, the same hand dipped something into the water, before he felt bristles moving through his hair. The motions were careful, pushing back the front of the lengths with the wet brush, ensuring that the one who held it did not harm him. Strange, was he perhaps in the care of a Dominion medic? Is that, by some miracle, where he'd wound up? The brush set aside on a wooden surface - to Ancano's chagrin, as he had enjoyed the little bit of comfort the brushing sensation provided - the mysterious hand returned, moving the cloth down his neck, and around his chest. They moved it along the ridges of his collar bone, and when he opportunity struck, he lurched out his hand like a snake's mouth to prey, eyes shot open as he got a bleary, unclear look at the figure. "Explain to me who you are, and what you are doing, or you will be missing a hand very shortly," he sneered in a hoarse voice, the threat taking the figure by surprise. As he began to register the figure before him, recognition came through the sound of their own voice, the person shoving against his hand on their wrist.

"Let me go, damn it! I'm just trying to help you!" Their protests came out more surprised than scared, and at that moment Ancano got a clear look at the individual before him. He loosened his grip, watching the Mer rub their wrist and pout a little, their dark hair falling over their shoulders in curls. His eyes widened involuntarily as he looked up at them, brow knit in confusion. The last memory that he had of this figure was that of them trying to kill him. "Athenath?" He uttered, throat unusually dry. The Altmer turned their attention to him, giving a nervy grin as he continued to massage his wrist. They then let the hand fall to their lap, looking over Ancano curiously. "Yes, and I'm gonna assume you've always had good grip strength." He frowned. Attempting to push himself up onto his elbows, another crack of pain whipped through his lower spine and into his extremities. Whatever noise he must have made, it was enough to make Athenath flinch, before they began to lower him back into the bed. "Hey, don't do that, not yet," they chided as Ancano's lips ran with haggard breaths, "you're not… well. I mean, I don't think you're sick, but you're definitely injured, though Lydia said she can't find any signs of physical injury. I can't, either, besides some cuts and bruises from… Well, you shouldn't worry too much."

He sneered. "Don't worry, I won't," he replied, words dripping thickly with sarcasm. The other Altmer rolled their dark eyes, and while Ancano had known they'd spoken, and he'd returned his own words, it was as though all sound came from across a corner, down a hall, somewhere out of touch. All he saw was his own pulse-spot-spattered vision, and the gleaming of the hearth reflected in the surface of the water that they'd been using moments prior. He had never known that he could get this thirsty. His tongue laid as dry and sharp in his mouth as a chunk of sandstone, all thoughts focused there. It would be pathetic to ask for water, to beg like a dog, but he found he did not have to, as Athenath pulled over a silver pitcher and poured him a glass. They set it aside, and with as much care as he could muster, began to shift Ancano to sit against the pillows. He winced and gagged on the pain, but the other took his time, and Ancano swore in that moment he almost heard reassurances, words meant to soothe so bitter and mocking in this light. When it was all over, however, he was seated, with the pillows against his back, resting on the headboard of what must have been a makeshift bed, as it was too hard to be a bed used regularly, and too lumpy to be one he was expected to sleep on for much longer. Well, he certainly hoped so, for if he had to sleep on this mattress any more nights, he might burn the entire place down with everyone but himself inside.