whitegoldtower

[whitegoldtower]

What the fuck even is my brain

I just woke up from a dream after meditating and falling asleep during it—

In this dream I was a dark fae type creature in this luscious but dark, colourful, hazy and luminescent environment, gripping onto these rings like the olympic style ones in some sort of arena and demanding a champion. I hear the approach of my champion in all of its musical glory, getting closer and closer as I grip and swing at these rings, practically foaming at the mouth for a battle.

Sounds like the basis of a poetic and fantastical boss fight right?

Right?

Wrong.

It’s David Tennant, in a metallic leotard, and this is suddenly an episode of fucking Gladiators.

The best bit? Apparently this dream was my brain going “time to address a homoerotic sitch, you big ol’ fairy! You don’t know whether you want to be or fuck David Tennant, so here he is! Hash it out!”

And I woke up like

[whitegoldtower]

Fitness update:

As a follow on from my post a while back.

[whitegoldtower]

dont worry baby we'll make this slaughterhouse into a slaughterhome🫶

[whitegoldtower]

Ancano doing work in the College of Winterhold not just as an advisor to the arch mage but as a school counsellor would be fucking hilarious. CAMHS but worse.

Student: i’m really worried about my final exams, I don’t think I’ll even pass this year!

Ancano: why don’t you have a nice hot bath.

Student: we don’t have baths in the college, just basins

Ancano: well then lie on the floor and pretend you’re in the fucking bath 🙄

[whitegoldtower]

How the altmer NPCs react to a slap in the face:

Elenwen: Her head jerks to the side as the slap lands on her cheek. There is a moment of complete silence as she sniffs. You see her jaw clench, and she reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears again, straightening herself out with dignity and grace… and then she takes her earrings out, calmly setting them down before reeling around at you and you know you’re fucked.

Ancano: audibly gasps, but recovers quickly. Takes his gloves off. Rolls up his sleeves. Pushes back his hair and starts to go visibly red in the face. “You absolute FUCKING heinous BITCH” - the RP english accent drops into the most council estate Essex/London mum voice you’ve ever been witness to and you realise that Ancano isn’t from the ‘nice’ area of Alinor. And he’s not as ‘proper’ as he puts across. And you might have fucked up here. You’re about to star in your own Skyrim-Edition episode of Eastenders versus Altmer Kat Slater.

Ondolemar: He knows how to take a hit, so much so that he barely moves, and just stares at you. It’s such a horrid look that if you don’t back down immediately you’re either nuts or incredibly brave. And if you don’t back down, he gets up, and stands toe to toe with you. “Do you want to try that again?”

Vingalmo: bro he catches your hand. Dude is fast. He catches that slap, snatches you by the hand, pulling it down to his side, forcing you to bend, and grips hard enough that you think he might break all four of your fingers. He looks down at you, straight in the eyes, and leans down to hiss: “If you do not already know your place, I’ll make sure you find it.” Alternatively if the slap lands, he gives back as good as you’ve given, only with added viciousness. He’s a total viper.

[whitegoldtower]

*SNATCHES him away from your ungrateful ass*

How dare u spray raid on my Princess

Ancano in his true form

[whitegoldtower]

playing with eye placement, shape, and overworking non watercolour paper.

my elder scrolls online arcanist has cursed me.

[whitegoldtower]

Top Five Things That Would Either Send Ancano into a Coma or Make Him BG3 Dark Urge Blackout with Zero Explanation:

1. Susan Boyle

2. A Stagecoach Bus

3. The Cost of a National Trust Membership

4. Icecubes in wine

5. The Benidorm Theme Song

[whitegoldtower]

does any body want to ttalk about the character

[whitegoldtower]

Llydanddail saves his Flesh to Gold scroll specifically for Gortash.

What a poetic slap in the face.

[whitegoldtower]

JK Rowling weighs 54kg. I am a happy transman knowing I could body her if she came anywhere near me with her bullshit. Cast wingardium leviosa bc I’m booting that bish into the sky.

(Thighs can now press just over 90kg, biceps 55kg, chest/shoulders 70kg and triceps 60kg).

If any terf calls me a lost lesbian sister ever again and weighs under or equal to 90kg/198lbs please know that I could easily put my foot through your ribcage with a force equal to your bodyweight ☺️☺️☺️ I could also smash your skull between my thighs like a watermelon.

Also I like training with a longsword.

[whitegoldtower]

my biggest fear is making a whole rant post about my favorite character or show and then completely fucking it up

like what if what i say about my blorbo isn't right. what if i missed the point. what if i took the symbolism a little too literally or didn't even catch it at all. i'd lose my shit

[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.

[whitegoldtower]

quick crazy doodle of Vyrthur to help me cope with reality

[whitegoldtower]

Levels of Getting to Know Ancano

Because this mer is like an onion. Bitch has layers.

Surface Level:

My god what a prick. Grumpy as shit, always complaining, seems to be picking on you for no apparent reason whatsoever other than that he just wants to blow off steam and bully someone to feel powerful. Comes across like your typical villain, typical Thalmor.

Familiarity:

In this stage, you start to notice that he has routines, but can be fucking messy as fuck. Nothing he does ever goes as he plans it to, and he’s just there for the ride. You start to notice that there’s more to him than just being a dick for the hell of it. Your gaydar starts pinging and you sense that it’s a sore spot.

Acquaintance:

You begin to learn that he’s actually rather sensitive, particularly to criticism, and is both a perfectionist, a nihilist and an idealist all at once, which make for some pretty chaotic encounters. You slowly start to glean in on his micro-expressions and subtle body language, and it clicks into place that he does not even want to be here, and that he is deeply uncomfortable. You feel like part of it is down to the way your gaydar is flying off the rails, but also with an inkling towards him being uncomfortable in his uniform. Whether it’s the cut of it, or what it symbolises is still unclear, all you know is that he’s not happy and looks like he’d rather be doing literally anything else.

Approval:

If you can actually get him to like you, you’ll begin to see him stress out more noticeably, and he won’t hesitate to offload about how shit his quarters are, and how he’d be tempted to walk to the nearest inn if it wasn’t for the shame of encountering Nelacar and getting dirty looks from the nords. It becomes clear that he’s not prideful; he’s self-conscious.

Confidant:

Here’s where it gets down to the nitty gritty. You’ll learn that he is, in fact, gay, from his own lips, and that he only joined the Thalmor to get other mer to leave him alone about it. To him, that uniform was essentially a suit of armour. He never wanted to be a Thalmor spy; he really wanted to be a psijic mage, or an alchemist with his own little shop. But now he’s come this far, he fears that it’s too late to do anything about it, and that the only way one leaves the Thalmor is in a box.

Soulmate:

You’re privy to all of his secrets, fears and desires, and you know a side of him that nobody else does; he is capable of being rather funny. He has running bits and enjoys reading other people to filth in your company for the express purpose of making you chuckle. You also discover that his RP English accent is a mask; his real accent is a fucking flamboyant Essex accent (if you’ve watched Gavin & Stacey he’s literally Pam. “Oh my Christ!!!”). The guard drops down. In a safe environment where he’s free to do what he wants, he’s perfectly happy to sit there and tinker around with the alchemy station and his favourite trick is getting you to watch as he ‘makes the taffy treat scream’ with whatever unholy radioactive shit he’s brewed. He’s quick witted with a potty mouth and his favourite target is Elenwen’s makeup. He once wrote a series of foul letters and made up a fake identity of someone in Solitude and sent them all to various members of the Thalmor, telling Ondolemar to “act like your fucking hairline and disappear, you regimented pisspot of a slut”, writing to Rulindil calling him a “foxy arse beetle-headed twat”, to Ancarion calling him a “salt-chafed dirty sod” and to Elenwen telling her she “looked like someone shoved a fucking thistle up a skeever’s rancid pussy”. Nobody ever figured out it was him.

[whitegoldtower]

It's so surreal being in the tes fandom and watching people make amazing, elaborate stories out of cookie clutter villains and shallow side characters that in game have 5 lines and I fireballed to death without a second thought.

[whitegoldtower]

I made a tragic durge. His name is Oleandar (based on the very beautiful yet extremely poisonous Oleander flower), a bhaalspawn in the fair guise of an elf.

He’s a bard/enchanter, and excels in poison attacks, psychic manipulation and blood magic.

So far, he has kept his secret very well guarded; he only gives in when he knows he can get away with it (subtly making Arabella run for the door, hiding Alfira’s body), but he thrives on being a ‘saviour’, so he’s doing all the ‘good’ things in Act 1, like orchestrating the war between the goblins and tieflings (he sneakily instigates it all, giving Minthara the location, torturing the prisoner, freeing Halsin and then turning on Minthara at the grove) and ultimately saving the refugees so that they love him.

Shadowheart likes him and is drawn in enough to make a move, but she does so with the intent to ultimately keep him at arm’s length. Astarion also makes a move, but does so because he feels that he and Oleandar are the same (conversation they had involved Astarion saying “we’re more similar than I thought”).

He’s a very VERY creative durge.

But he goes for the most naive person in his camp: Gale. Who unfortunately falls for his persona / not persona and ends up head over heels.

Just like Astarion, Oleandar’s instinct is to manipulate, and he sees himself in Gale’s creativity. Gale strokes his ego. Compliments him. He’s perfect. But then it goes tits up, and he finds himself genuinely caring for Gale.

But can he keep hold of Gale? Gale will figure out what he is sooner or later. It’s a doomed romance that will likely end with all of the companions dead, and Oleandar alone at the end of the world. Either that, or with Gale elevated to godhood, and Oleandar yearning from a distance.

As much as Oleandar craves to be loved and liked and appreciated… he destroys everything he touches.

Deep down, he knows he is evil and wrong. He is just powerless to stop it.

This song is the best fit for him and Gale:

“You believe me like a God; I’ll destroy you like I am. I’m sorry I’m the one you love, no one will ever love me like you again.”

“One day you’ll figure me out: I’ll meet judgement by the hounds.”