9. something written about one of your OC’s proudest accomplishments for your Hawke?
Codex Entry — A short note by Knight-Commander Meredith on Alexander Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall
I've no doubts of the Champion's prowess, but sometimes I wonder if I have been too hasty in my declaration of his new title. He, above all else, is still an apostate protected by recently gained wealth and now, the status of the elite. With the growing use of blood magic in the past few years, I have growing concerns that the new Champion of Kirkwall is just as susceptible to demonic possession, if not already one of the maleficarum. Henceforth I've instructed Knight-Captain Cullen to keep close watch on Kirkwall's new protector.
For the Skyrim OT3: ''i've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me''
TY for the prompts!!! Katja/Ulfric/Ralof with a brief appearance of Anneka being a little shit. Pls know I do want to expand on the universe this pairing lives in aka Daughters of Skyrim that I've been daydreaming about for over a year, ooops.
-----------------------------
“Your house-husband is in a foul mood.”
“Anneka!” Katja didn’t bother suppressing a sigh as her middle sister snuck up behind her, appearing from the shadows with unnerving ease in broad daylight. “How many times have I asked you not to do that?”
“Which part?” Leaning against the stable door, Anneka was being purposefully glib, her brown eyes flashing with mischief beneath her hood.
“The sneaking, for starters,” Katja brushed her hands off on her skirts, slipping from the stall where she’d been carefully brushing down her mare. “But you know he has a name and a title, both of which you’d be smart to remember when I’m not around.”
“And you’re his wife,” Anneka batted her eyelashes at her big sister. “And the mighty Dragonborn! It’s not like he’s going to exile his favorite sister-in-law.”
“Of course, he wouldn’t send Grete out of the city,” Katja reached to pinch Anneka on the cheek, but she ducked out of the way before her hand could reach.
“Haha, hilarious.” Her words and tone didn’t match, though, as she gave Katja an irritated frown. “Look, I’m just letting you know, don’t shoot the messenger and all that.” Anneka held her hands up in mock surrender. “You should check on him before he makes more trouble for all of you.”
Politicking had turned into one of her least favorite activities, but it was a necessary tool once they’d made Solitude their seat of power in Skyrim. It also wasn’t easy wrangling a city that used to be loyal to the Empire, and the Empire alone, to take Ulfric as their leader after the war had ended between their various factions.
While the war may have ended, the fighting continued in countryside skirmishes that kept everything off-kilter, something they had been trying to rectify for longer than they wanted.
“Don’t leave without saying goodbye this time,” Katja sighed, leaning to press a swift kiss to her sister’s cheek (she didn’t move this time) as she departed for the Blue Palace.
“No promises!” Anneka called to Katja’s back; her tone was teasing, though, and Katja knew she didn’t have to worry about her, thank the Divines.
Rebuilding Solitude had been challenging, considering the damages done during their attack on the city at the end of the civil war. Between ensuring building repairs, people put back to work, and also both appeasing and bringing the nobility in line again, there’d been little time for much else.
Part of Katja had wanted nothing more than to slip into the background of everything, simply to be for a bit rather than finding herself with too many tasks to juggle. Her part had passed, she had saved the world, and now she deserved to rest.
And yet there was no stopping her as she walked through the streets of Solitude, free from the finery that befitted her station these days, lending a hand where she could and ensuring that they heard the people. Ulfric could talk about all he wanted from the throne, but none of this meant anything without the people and their favor behind them.
Despite her desire to reach Ulfric as soon as she could, her steps slowed, pausing as she checked in with those whose names she had long since learned. Merchants with questions about the shipments coming to harbor, families that sought land in and around the city, and former Legion soldiers with comments as they adjusted to the colors of Skyrim and the Stormcloaks.
The knowledge that she, the Dovahkiin, was a voice of the people, made her heart swell. It was important to stay abreast of all that was happening, promising what she could and remembering to find answers for anything that baffled her.
The late afternoon sun cast shadows as Katja extracted herself from the market stalls, promising answers the next time she came through, her head a jumble of thoughts. It was enough to keep her preoccupied enough that she didn’t realize the familiar form approaching her from behind.
“I’ve heard he’s in a mood.” The voice at her ear tickled the sensitive skin along her neck, the warmth of Ralof shielding her from the biting winds that often blew in from the north. Her surprise was genuine, letting the shock melt into pleasure instead at his appearance.
“And I’m the last to know,” Katja replied with a soft laugh, falling easily into step with Ralof on the path up to the palace. “Why aren’t you with him?” Ralof was often at the right hand of Ulfric, regardless of the rumors that swirled around court about their ‘unique’ situation.
Katja always felt better when she knew the pair of them were together; she could easily protect herself, as she’d shown time and time again, but the fear remained lodged in her throat at the thought of someone coming for one when the other wasn’t around.
“I had errands,” Ralof gave Katja a little smile, walking close enough where she could reach out to take his hand in hers -- but she didn’t, not in the streets. Later, she knew there would be ample time to touch him at her leisure, once all eyes were off them and all three of them were within the safety of their adjoining rooms. “And I knew I might run into you.”
“A likely excuse.” Katja picked up speed, aware of the guards a few paces behind them, doing the same. “I’d rather stop him before he threatens the nobility.” They hadn’t exactly been welcoming, but there was little else they could do about that. Time and patience while they settled Skyrim into a country without the Empire would not happen overnight, nor would the effects of it reach all who needed it right away.
The noise hit her the moment they stepped inside. The pair exchanged a quick look as Katja gave a small nod, watching Ralof slip away to gather a few more guards, while Katja quickly ascended the stairs.
A mix of old and new blood filled the throne room of Solitude these days. Old family names remained, while they had added new ones to the mix as they tried to modernize some practices within Skyrim. Ulfric had been hesitant, but Katja pressed hard to ensure that everyone had a voice, not just those who had cried for their freedom, but others who called this place home.
Skyrim could no longer be just for the Nords, not when their world was expanding and changing with each passing year.
“My lords and ladies!” Katja raised her voice, hands clapping together loudly as the cacophony of sounds slowed until it was a murmur. “The throne room will now be closed to petitions until tomorrow.” The murmuring turned into a low grumble as a few of the nobles who couldn’t get behind someone common holding the stations she held threatened to speak over her.
“My lady-”
“You will address your High Queen with respect before me.” Oh, yes, there was a definite pitch to Ulfric’s voice, a warning in the words he so neatly snarled. There was a dark cloud about him, tension coiled in his body as he stood.
“The guards will escort any stragglers out.” Katja adopted the tone she’d heard from nobility growing up: haughty and not to be trifled with, her chin jutting out slightly as she stared down at the few who nearly dared to defy both monarchs in the room. Then slowly, oh so slowly, the room emptied, people trickling out until only their closest advisors remained.
She waited until even their advisors quietly slipped out before speaking. “You have to learn to control your temper, Ulfric.” Despite his pragmatism and head for battle, sometimes they walked a knife’s edge, watching and waiting to ensure that he didn’t slip into the picture their enemies had painted of him: a brooding, brutish man who would squeeze the life out of anyone who stood in the way of him and the throne he sat on now.
He looked briefly mollified, pressing the bridge of his nose before he stood from the throne. “I knew there would be work to do,” he grumbled, his hand extending for Katja to take. “But I hadn’t expected this much resistance.”
Threading her arm through his, hand clasped tightly in his own, Katja steered them away from the throne, down the hall. “We survived the civil war,” she replied, giving the smallest of nods to the guard who opened the door to their chambers. “And now we have to do the work of rebuilding it all - better than before.”
The door closed behind them and Katja wasted no time as she stood on tiptoe, her arms wrapped around him tightly. Some of the tension bled from him, not enough, but Katja could feel him relaxing into the embrace. His lips ghosted the crown of her head, giving a huffing laugh.
“Dying for a cause would have been easier.”
“I doubt your head on a pike would have done anyone in Skyrim much good.” Ralof entered from the hall, a grimace instead of a smile, having caught the words Ulfric had murmured into the room.
Katja pulled away from Ulfric, just enough to extend a hand out for Ralof to take. He crossed the room, the bristles of his beard ghosting across her knuckles before he dipped in closer to press a soft kiss to her mouth.
“You’re not alone with this burden,” Katja tilted her head and Ulfric acquiesced, his mouth slanting across hers, pulling away only when Ralof made silent demands of his own for the same. “One bad day doesn’t mean this is for naught.”
“No,” Ulfric sighed, making a small noise of surprise when Ralof nipped at his lower lip. It pulled some of the seriousness from his face, the lines lessening for a moment at the playful attempt to shift the mood. “I suppose not.” There was gentle affection when he pressed his nose against Ralof’s temple, adding a soft kiss.
“These worries can wait until tomorrow.” Katja was reluctant to pull herself out of the embrace the three of them loosely shared. “Tonight, I think it’s supper in our room, no courtiers or nobility allowed.” She had no designs on how they might spend their time, but a heated look from Ralof had her laughing, feeling rather than seeing the flush of pink that rose in her cheeks.
“Mead, some hot stew, and the people I care for most sounds-” Ralof began.
“Heavenly.” Ulfric finished, one hand remaining in Ralof’s, the other threading and anchored in Katja’s loose hair. “I think we can arrange all of that.” Katja had already turned her face towards his again, sinking into the kiss.
thank you for this lovely prompt, issa! 💖i turned this into a dialogue exercise for fun because these two don’t stop bantering in my head. (it’s much shorter as a result, though!)
in which pandora kingston attempts to exact ‘revenge’ upon adam du mortain on a sleepy saturday afternoon
pairing: duh (adam du mortain x f!detective)
rating: general
words: ~300
“Adam! Hurry up, oh my god. You’re missing the beginning of the show!”
“You could simply pause it for me.” A sigh. “If your kettle was in working order, I would have joined you on the couch ten minutes ago.”
“Why would I fix that myself when I know that you’ll just do it for me?”
“Pandora…”
“Adam…”
“You are the most incorrigible opportunist I have encountered in all of my 900 years.”
“And you love me desperately for it.”
“Perhaps ‘in spite of’ is a more appropriate phrasing.”
“Since I’m such an opportunist, l’amour de ma vie, I may as well ask you to bring in the throw blanket--the fluffy green one--from the bedroom when you finally bring in my hot chocolate.”
“It would be much quicker if you fetched it yourself.”
“But I’m watching the show, I can’t stop now!”
“You haven’t paused it?”
“You have super hearing--you know I haven’t paused it. We’ll restart it when you come in.”
“Then why can’t you go get the blanket?”
“Because it is so much more fun to bother you about it.” A brief pause. “And because my weak human legs are on strike after you made Morgan take over my combat training yesterday.”
“Ah, so this is an exercise in vengeance, mon petit monstre?”
“Exactly, mon coeur.”
Adam arrives in the living room five minutes later with the correct throw blanket and a mug of hot chocolate piled with whipped cream. He ‘accidentally’ jostles Pandora as she takes her first sip, which results in whipped cream smeared across her nose. She looks at him incredulously.
For Lizzie/Felix: teasingly on the nose out of affection, please?
Thank you for the ask, lovely! Here’s hoping I can deliver!
“I’m pretty sure Adam’s going to come out here and pull you back by your ear if you don’t let me get in the car, babe.”
Lizzie grinned down at Felix, tipping her head until they rested together, forehead to forehead. His eyes danced with laughing affection as he meet her gaze, hands settled more than comfortably at her hips. He’d never found anything to complain about in having a human girlfriend a full three inches taller than he was; hell, he enjoyed seeing her stomp around in four inch heels, too.
“He’s the one who insists you need escorting everywhere,” he countered with a cheerful twist to his smile, fingers squeezing gently as she rested her forearms on his shoulders. “All the danger you face out there in the wide world of -”
“Paperwork,” she interrupted, both of them laughing at the roll of her eyes. “I know, I know. One of these days I’m going to lose a fight with a paper clip, and all you’ll find of me will be bones.”
Felix couldn’t help smirking at that.
“One bone in particular won’t be yours,” he said, beaming as she laughed out loud again, tipping her head back in the warm sunshine.
“You are so bad for my determination to get to work on time,” Lizzie informed him. “But, alas, it just has to be.”
She started to draw back, only to find herself pinned where she was by those equally determined hands on her hips. Raising a brow at Felix, she relaxed from her pull, letting him draw her ever closer into his body as his lips sought hers. But she was already late, and she could practically feel Adam glaring at them through several walls and doors.
“Uh, uh.”
She pressed one finger to Felix’s lips, her smile softening the rejection with teasing tenderness.
“Not even a little kiss to get me through the day?” he asked, his full lips forming an adorable pout.
Lizzie held his gaze for a moment, rolling her eyes again as she chuckled.
“Oh, fine,” she said eventually. “Close your eyes.”
His eyes were already screwed tight shut before she finished speaking, his mouth puckered in an expectant smile. Skimming her hands down from his shoulders to his wrists, she gently removed his hungry grasp from her body, bending to brush an affectionate kiss to the very tip of his nose before making the fastest getaway she could manage.
I really enjoy how interesting your characters are. I may not know the fandom or their full backstory, but I see them cross my dash and they’re all so incredible that I don’t have to know the fandom to know that I like them.
If anything, your characters make me want to get to know the canon material better so I can enjoy them in context.
literally knowing that someone can enjoy my characters even when they’re not involved in the fandom makes me SO happy. like I feel like that’s a struggle for me trying to move to writing original stuff, so this is just ❤️❤️❤️
