Omg okay hopefully this is within any possible request rules for your blog, bc I'm so happy I found you😭
Perhaps you could make some headcanons about Kharjo? With a Khajiit s/o, would he want to marry them eventually, would he like to adopt an orphaned Khajiit cub etc if that's okay? And if you do nsfw headcanons then maybe something about how he might be in bed with his Khajiit s/o or maybe what you think he looks like under his armor? I'm really sorry this is all over the place I just got super excited😭 feel free to ignore this if you don't want to do it or anything like that! I hope you're having a great day or night (:
Hoho, Kharjo! I wish you could marry him in-game. Bethesda! Why can you only marry one Argonian? Give us more options!
SFW, cut for space. I'll plan out an NSFW headcanon post at a later time, I'm blanking for now. Written for any race, not just Khajiit.
Kharjo isn't really a romantic type. When he courts you, he'll offer you the best weapon in the dungeon you're exploring. He'll dump more food into your bowl than the others. He'll carve figurines for you and leave them on your pillow for you to find later. He's subtle, but you can feel his love for you just as much as if he made grand gestures.
I can't find much lore on Khajiit marriage, but Kharjo doesn't care for it. His bond to you in unspoken, he has no need for jewelry or oaths to make it clear. If you want something like that, though, he wants to make you happy. He'll have a small party with the caravans and any of your friends, under the moonslight as he makes his vows to you. Kharjo nuzzles into you and drapes an amulet around your neck, similar to his Moon amulet. Now you match, and are mates for life!
Kharjo has dreamed before of cubs, but never really thought about actually doing it. Whether you decide to bear his children or adopt your own, he considers them family no matter what. Khajiit orphans are rare, due to their clan mentality- cubs are raised by everyone, not just their parents. But, if you manage to find one in your travels, he is more than happy to spread his knowledge of Claw Dances on to another generation. Any children you have will be loved and happy, and trained to defend themselves. He won't let anything happen to his new clan!
Under his armor, Kharjo's fur is a bit messy, but that's to be expected. He grooms it down with a comb and pouts if you laugh at the little white spot on his belly. His armor chafes off the fur in some spots, which he treats with balms, and would be over the moons if you manage to fix his armor so it doesn't do that. He's mostly the same gray and dark brown colors everywhere, and the softest fur is on his stomach. He trusts you enough to let you use that spot as a pillow.
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“Who is this scholar again?” The dragonborn said behind Serana, the walk to Winterhold becoming tiring as more snow continued to fall.
“Don’t call her that to her face, friend. She doesn’t take kindly to titles.” The vampire rubbed her arms before continuing. “She was a friend of my mother’s, she is our best hope if we want to find her.”
“And she lives in Winterhold of all places? Couldn’t she choose a warmer environment? Preferably with less snow?” She grunted as she stumbled, the snow piling at her feet making it difficult to walk; especially with the fur boots she was wearing. She had discarded her normal light attire for something warmer and therefore heavier; she didn’t appreciate the extra weight. Despite being the dragonborn, she wasn’t very muscular and apart from stolen goods and purses full of coin, she couldn’t carry much. Serana came to know this information some time after they began travelling together in search of the elder scrolls and needless to say, she wasn’t amused.
“She is rather peculiar. I remember when she would come visit us, she would be completely in tune with the icy weather of the castle despite not being a vampire.” Serana sighed in relief as Winterhold finally came into view, the lanterns outside the tavern becoming a beacon to the pair. “I’m guessing it’s because she’s an elf. Elves are very resistant to harsh weather.”
“I’m an elf”
“You’re a disgrace.”
“I’m the dragonborn, I can shout you across the gorge.” They stepped onto the tavern's porch, shaking snow from their hair and taking off their masks. Serana's scoff was soon replaced by a sigh as warmth of the tavern enveloped her; even as a vampire Winterhold's cold was punishing.
"I'm choosing to ignore your threat in favor of our mission." Making their way to the bar, they paid for two rooms and warm meals and took a seat at one of the nearby tables. The moment the streaming bowl of vegetable soup was placed in front of them, they dug in ignoring the burn of the liquid on their tongues.
"What's her name? You never mentioned."
"Vivienne. No last name, just Vivienne."
"A walking mystery, I see. This is going to be a long trip."
A/N: Gelebor I love him so much and I think he deserves both a love story and a companion so here we are.... this will be as canon friendly as possible there will be some changes however (bc Bethesda’s story is kinda idk how to put it...illogical and I also simp for Vyrthur) I hope yall like it. You can also find me one AO3 as CosmicRacoon. Thank you for reading
Summery: You were Ulfric’s lover before the war started, but the war seemed to have turned him into someone different from the man you fell in love with.
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 1,000+
Part: 1/2
Date Posted: March 17, 2020
Note: This fic starts before the events of Skyrim, when Ulfric killed the High King. And for the sake of this fic, the reader has a neutral stance in the war.
Another note: Me? Writing for Ulfric Stormcloak first and not Farkas? Who knew this was a reality.
Ulfric watched you pace as he leaned onto the backrest of his throne.
“To kill the High King with the Voice... Ulfric you’ve taken this too far!” Ulfric sighed, annoyed by your rambling.
“(Y.N), please.” He held his head in his hand. “This was a victory!”
“This was a stupid move!” Ulfric stood as you quickly approached him. “All of Skyrim will be speaking of this and you may have started a war with Cyrodiil!”
“Good!” Ulfric knew he was yelling now, but his pride kept him from calming down. “Let the people of Skyrim know that I, Ulfric Stormcloak, was the one who killed the High King with my mere voice! Let those damn Imperials know the power I hold.” Those in the throne room besides the fighting couple did not know what to do.
“This damn war is getting out of hand!” You yelled back. “Do you not see what you’ve done in the grand scheme of this land?”
“For someone who is supposed to be on my side, you seem to sympathize with those filthy Imperials.” Your eyes widened, the rage inside you visibly growing, and you said,
“Be careful, Ulfric.” You voice was heavy. “Be careful with what you’re implying.”
“Or what?” He knew he had gone too far, but nothing was stopping him. “You’ll go running to the High King. Oh wait, he’s dead!” Not wanting to be there in the heavy air any longer, you scoffed and turned away sharply towards your shared bedroom. After hearing the heavy metal door slam, Ulfric slumped back down on his throne and let out the breath he did not know he was holding. Galmar took the chance to approach him.
“I’’m sorry, Ulfric, but we need to plan our next move. With the empire in shambles with the death of their king, we need to take this to our advantage.” Ulfric looked up at him. Though he tried to hide it, Galmar could tell he also felt the impact of that fight. Ulfric stood, needing a distraction.
“Alright.” He grumbled.
----
It was late at night. The sun had set hours ago. Ulfric made his was to his bedroom, wanting only to sleep.
He did feel bad. While you were there, hiding from everyone, probably questioning his love for you, he chose to plan the Stormcloaks’ next move. He was thinking of the bigger picture. In his mind, once the Stormcloaks win the war, you two would be able to relax and enjoy life in Skyrim a little more. No more would you need to chase after him and he would no longer have to be so urgent about what to do next.
He entered the bedroom. There were no candles lit. He assumed you had fallen asleep.
“Love?” He mumbled, only loud enough for you to hear. He approached the bed and, in the pale moonlight, he could see you were not in bed. Slightly panicking, he took the candle on the small desk, next to the dress, and lit it. He then used the flame to light the candles which stood next to the large bed. With more light filling the room, he could see no sign of you. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” He walked out and went up to the guard on duty in the corridor. “Where is my wife?” The guard thought for a moment.
“I am not sure, sire.” He replied. “I have not seen her leave her bedroom after...” The guard was too afraid to apeak of that afternoon’s occurence, but Ulfric understood.
Ulfric wandered the halls with a fast pace, trying to find any sign of you. From those who he asked, no one had seen you.
You could not have sneaked out.
Could you?
You would have not left undetected. Did you leave him? Was the fight you had in the throne room the final straw for you? Surely, you knew it was a momentary thing. You had your fights before, but it would always end with you in his arms.
Quickly, he sped back to your bedroom, and realized the details he missed were the details of which were not there anymore. Your belongings were gone. Ulfric opened the wardrobe and found some, but not all, of your clothing gone. He notice how it was just enough for you to leave and be able to travel light.
Ulfric was unable to fathom the thought of you leaving. He sat on his bed, on your side, thinking of what was happening. He leaned back on his hands, but felt something under the green covers. He lifted the blanket and found your journal. A page was marked by a dry quill. Ulfric brought his leg onto the bed and opened the leather book. The page which was saved was today’s entry.
I can’t stand it anymore. He read, hearing your voice as his eyes skimmed over the words. I love Ulfric. I love him with all of my heart, but this war is too much for us. I want to be with him and stand by his side, but my heart can’t take the violence any longer. In a war where I don’t pledge my allegiance to a side, even when I am married to the leader of the Stormclocks, there is too much for me. I plan to leave. Ulfric’s heart sank deeper. Not forever, but long enough for there things to calm down and for Skyrim to move past the death of the High King. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I want to leave Skyrim. But who knows? If I find a better life elsewhere, nothing is forcing me to come home to the chaos of Skyrim. I will miss Ulfric, no matter what I chose.
Whether you forgot your notebook or left it for him to read, he will never know.
One part of him wanted to be relieved that you did not plan to leave forever and you did plan on coming back, but the other part of him was louder and told him that you may never come back. Tamriel was not a safe world. The loneliness was setting in for him. Recalling the fight you had earlier in the day and all the other fights you have had, the stress you have had to endure due to his role in the war, he had a feeling you were not coming back.
---
There is a part two I am working on! This is not the end! However, I don’t know if I want a happy ending or a sad ending.
Also, I actually went into Ulfric’s bedroom to see what it looks like for this fic lmao.
Lucien didn’t hate Cheydinhal however if you wanted blades you wanted to peruse the outskirts of Cyrodil. He studied (Y/N.) thier expression set on something. “Lucien there’s somebody you might wanna meet he knows how to sell illegal goods cheap.”(Y/N.) moved forward leading Lucien to some man leaning against a wall.
“Well,well,well if it ain’t Y/N. Long time no see.” The man smirked.
“Sami. Still shady as ever. Sami this is Lucien he’s... a coworker.” (Y/N)winked hinting there was more to the word coworker than was being said.
“Ahh. I see than I gots an exclusive deal for yous follow ol’Sammi.” Shady Sam led (Y/N) and Lucien to an old underground market. Filled with stalls of illegal contraband. They had everything from Moonsugar to daedric artifacts.
“Now I don’t do this for everyone but I owe(Y/N.)quite a tad. During thier arena days they found me scavenging for food. So instead of tossin me a Septim they gave me signed memorabilia from the arena.... including way to many human eyes than I was comfortable with. But hey they still sold so... I saved up I live on the docks now. Well that’s enough about me you came for blades.”Sam explains.
And.... if he doesn’t stop talking about his past with (Y/N) I’ll shove a blade in his jugular Lucien thought.
Turning to (Y/N) who had already managed to find the blades.
“My blade has gone dull it’s just been over used.Lucien any suggestion for a new one?” (Y/N) asked.
“I’ve always preferred daggers much more intimate.” Lucien smirked.
“I can imagine.”(Y/N) responded
“See a blade should reflect its owner. Thus you my dear shouldn’t settle for anything less than the best.” Lucien Looks at an ornate double bladed dagger that’s hanging on a merchants wall.
“This one would be perfect for you it’s elegant deadly. A weaker soul would be scared off by its edges ,but anyone brave enough to pick it up... would see it truly is the most magnificent out of all of them.” Lucien held the blade.
“Even yours?” (Y/N) wondered.
“Mine is a nice blade and would go well in battle with this one.Yet a blade like this it’s humbling to even be in the presence of.” Lucien explained.
“Will it be effective on contracts though?” (Y/N.) questioned.
“As I said before a blade needs to match its owner. This blade is well crafted.Sharp,Beautiful,intelligent in its design,and the sort of thing the Septims themselves would wield. As you are attractive enough to make angels weep ,and intelligent enough to outwit even hermaus mora. I think you and this blade are more than effective enough to slay any man.” Lucien answered.
“What if this assassins Target were you?” (Y/N) questioned wrapping Lucien’s neck in a hug.
“Then you wouldn’t require a blade. You alone is a weapon enough.” He leaned in to kiss (Y/N)
Before a coughing sound interrupts them.
“So uhh... are you two gonna buy that or what?” The merchant snapped.
“I..umm... yes ... yeah,” (Y/N) have The merchant the money and took the blade home.
(Ima so more of these for other characters cause this was fun)
- Let’s get one thing straight, Neloth absolutely hates children. Babies, toddlers, children, teens. Gross.
- But his own children? Now that’s a little bit of a different story. I mean c’mon they are miniature versions of HIM. His ego is so large he couldn’t hate them.
- He’d probably prefer a boy but girls are cool too. He knows more about boys than girls.
- Would be overprotective as shit with his little bab. Like seriously even look at them the wrong way and your gonna get slaughtered.
- When they were really young he bought a baby sling because they kept trying to eat his stuff while he had his eyes off of them. One time someone laughed at him. They mysteriously disappeared soon after.
- Neloth would probably be really strict. No going out after dark, no buying random stuff at the market without permission, no eating random things you find in the fridge cause it could be dangerous, etc.
- He makes up for that by spoiling the crap out of his kid. Like, sure he’s kinda an ass but he really does love his kid, he just has a hard time using his words to express it. So he does it with gifts. He’s a Telvanni wizard, he can afford it.
- I don’t really think Neloth would care too terribly much if his kid didn’t wanna learn magic. Like he’d probably be upset but also kinda happy that he doesn’t have to mentor someone else. But that child is gonna be hella smart. Neloth is gonna shove a butt ton of knowledge into that child’s brain whether they like it or not.
- Oh and if he had a daughter, he would never let her marry. Never. Everyone is too scared of Neloth to even ask for her hand in marriage.
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A/N: I got a few notes telling me I should write Skyrim stuff and I’m in an Agris mood. This is kinda short but I just wanted to see if I still had my skills. Anyway enjoy <3
---
You were awoken by the smell of apple cabbage stew filling Vlindrel Hall, the home you shared with your housecarl, Agris. You tried to take a deep breath of it in, but all you could do was cough. Agris heard and practically ran into the room.
“Hey hey, lay back down. You haven’t recovered yet.” Agris said reaching out to put his hand on your back. Recovered? Oh, that's right.
The snow had gotten so high that you couldn’t even feel the ground. Trudging through it, attempting to make it to Winterhold, where you told Agris to wait for you. The last thing you remembered was seeing the door of the Inn and then you passed out.
“You’ve got a really bad cold,” Agris said, snapping you out of your thoughts, “and some serious frostbite on your legs.”
“Yeah that sounds about right,” you whispered. Silence filled the room as Agris just sat there looking at you.
“I have no idea what I look like, but I can guarantee you look worse,” you said, “what's wrong Ag?”
Agris laughed at the nickname you had given him. You’d always been funny like that. He sat down at the edge of your bed, before sighing and looking up at you.
“I just wish I had been there to help you ya know? I’m supposed to be your housecarl, your protector, a “Bulwark” but I’ve done a pretty shit job at it. You're always protecting me. I wanted to protect you for once.” he said. He looked down at his knees, not wanting to make eye contact with you.
Suddenly, he heard you burst out laughing, then violently cough. You took a drink of water and grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face close to yours, touching your foreheads together.
“Ag, listen,” you started, “you are the best ‘protector’ a person could ever ask for, but you're too caught up in your duties. You aren’t just my housecarl, you're my friend. I care about you more than you’ll ever know.”
You two sat there in silence for a few seconds, staring into each others eyes. Suddenly, Agris put his hand on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss. Your eyes widened and you slowly melted into it.
As you pulled away for air, you stared deep into his eyes. “I love you,” he said. You blushed and smiled, “I love you t-” you stopped. Agris looked at you confused. “What’s that smell?” Agris inhaled through his nose, smelling something burning.
