#I think Skinner is a werewolf

[yourheartinyourmouth]

Scully: Please explain to me the scientific nature of “the whammy”.

[puddlestheduck1]

werewolf ambrosius character study/design >:]

I’ve never drawn a werewolf before so if it looks weird soz 😭 Who wants a finished artwork 😍 imma make him skinner and more creepy looking maybe

@ambrosius-goldheart

Taking inspo from Harry potter’s depiction of a werewolf cause that thing gave me nightmares as a kid 😭

edit:

he’s gonna be in the skinnier size but not super skinny. I don’t think I’ll make him really cute or hot cause otherwise the kingdom wouldn’t have a reason to call him a monster. Also here’s his height compared to ballister:

[ryan-nugenthopkins]

trick or treat AGAIN. gimme another or more smacking

AGH NO NOT THE SMACKS PLEASE

As evidenced by the vampire homoeroticism I always have a soft spot for urban fantasy / urban magic alternative universes, and I like building out abilities or gifts and how that might shape player personalities or careers to a certain degree. I name a couple powers/what people are in this fic but don't actually dive into them so:

Hyman - prophet/divination. Had debilitating visions and headaches as a kid but worked through them using both hockey and literature. Makes sense of his visions using literary tropes, but struggles to give real, concrete answers for things because of it. You can tell when he's using his gift/being sent a vision because he'll start weeping gold dust.

Nurse - part of a famous hunter family / enclave back in Ontario. He doesn't do much of the politics or anything, but he's raised knowing most of the magical history and creatures. And how to kill them, but - y'know.

Kulak - grew up with and around hunters but not to the same degree as his Ontario counterparts. I think Alberta is generally less magical than other parts of the country, so he has familiarity with magic and magical creatures, but more theory than practice.

Skinner - half empathy, half divination; basically has an additional sense that allows him to detect the nature of relationships between people. It's really niche for a gift, even for in-universe, which is the only reason he's able to play hockey with it active.

Bouchard - werewolf :) that's it. I think werewolfism is both hereditary and transmissible, but his was hereditary but maybe recessive. Typical werewolf stuff - strength, endurance, turns into a creature every full moon.

McLeod (RIP) - You know Jubliee from the X-Men? With the funny little fireworks? I think he'd have something akin to that. Very mild light manipulation that he mostly uses to be annoying at his teammates. He probably isn't allowed to use it on the ice though.

Gagner - some sort of telepathy, I think. I feel like telepathy would be cheating in the eyes of the NHL but he probably a fairly low grade that means he can't actually use it to read the play or predict opponents, so it's like... okay. Imagining the negotiations about this stuff between NHLPA and the NHL amuses me, can you tell.

Nugent-Hopkins - faerie of the Winter Court, mostly associated with the element of water and being kinda shitty. He wasn't exactly that important back in the land of Faerie, hence fucking off to Earth and playing hockey. Immortality, general magical powers but particularly over snow/ice/water, and I like to think that fae like playing trickster and have some psychological related abilities such as manipulating emotions. While not important, he's still powerful compared to most people and magical beings, and does take advantage of that by making deals and making sure people are owing him favours. He's nice. I swear.

Non-Oiler players:

Puljujarvi - another weird prophet guy! I think he has a gift for making the right connections at the right time - finding people who need something or someone. Like a super networker, but he can't explain why these two people should meet

T.D. (head athletic therapist) - lie detector, basically. I think it'd be useful, especially working with hockey players.

MTkachuk - werewolf. Yes, solely because that dynamic between him and Draisaitl would be extremely funny. Extremely hereditary for their family.

Reinhart - grew up with McDavid as a hunter.

If YOU have opinions on what someone should be / want me to build out your favourite little guy in any of my deeply convoluted aus you can always send me an ask :)

[nientedenada]

Kodlak, for the character opinion thing!

first impression: Another wise old mentor.

impression now: Not so wise. He's retreated into a shell and lets Aela and Skjor throw their weight around too much while he ponders his immortal destiny. This may be the result of some game development weirdness. The Prima Skyrim game guide says he contracted the Rot and his condition is going downhill quickly. If we accept he's ill and weakening in his room, that would explain a lot. (Though, can werewolves contract the rot?)

favourite moment: The chilling account of his dream in his dialogue, of being dragged away from Sovngarde.

idea for a story: Not explored at all in game, it's intriguing to me whatever is going on between Vignar and Kodlak, who are both old school members of the Companions, steeped in the old lore and history. Vignar has stayed out of the werewolf stuff and the Circle, and Kodlak hasn't. Vignar has chosen a side in political landscape of Skyrim and Kodlak stays neutral. Kodlak welcomes you into the Companions. Vignar suggests you don't get involved with them.

Does Vignar know about the werewolves? He's been around a long time, albeit with a career away from Whiterun in the Legion for years. This would be a fascinating relationship to flesh out. All we have in game is that Kodlak's ghost says, "You see only me because your heart knows only me as the Companions leader. I'd wager old Vignar could see half a dozen of my predecessors."

I don't know exactly what tack I'd take with them, but there's meat for a story there.

unpopular opinion: Well, I already said in my Athis ask that the Circle are incredibly selfish and Kodlak took part in that farce of a honourable tradition for a long while. I wonder if he feels guilty about how deceived his fellow warriors, as well as guilty about the taint on his soul.

Killing the Glenmoril witches to save your soul from a deal you yourself made with Hircine is morally questionable, to say the least. Maybe they were also an incredibly evil threat that needed killing, but the game doesn't go into it. I don't btw think this is bad characterization, I do like the desperation as time runs out.

favourite relationship: Vilkas and Kodlak's trust is touching.

favourite headcanon: He knew Krev the Skinner once.

[iamprchung]

Dancing in the Moonlight 4/? - The Lush Life

Synopsis:

As Mulder alienates county officials and looks forward to reveling in FBI-funded luxury (much to Scully's internal groaning), their investigation into the mysterious mountain lion attacks takes a surprising turn. Will they uncover a hidden truth beneath the gloss of Aspen's elite, or will Mulder's werewolf theory land them in hot water with Assistant Director Skinner?

Notes:

I appreciate the recent comment that Mulder is alienating everyone and not reading the room… Because that’s exactly what he’s doing!

Also, taking some “artistic liberties” when it comes to Aspen, Colorado and the fall music festival that occurs there, and the resort where our fearless agents will be staying on the government’s dime in this tale…

And I apologize, this didn't get the treatment I hoped for. But let's look to the future... like when Skinner shows up.

Dancing in the Moonlight 4/? - The Lush Life

By PR Chung

Scully continued to try calling Edward Kessler, her cell phone pressed to her ear as she left another voice mail, “Officer Kessler, it’s… it’s Agent Scully,” she glanced at Mulder walking beside her, “again. I need to get our bags from your vehicle… if you could call me back, I’d… greatly appreciate that. Thank you.”

They walked out of the municipal complex, finding Kessler’s SUV parked in the same space as when they arrived.

“Well, he’s still here,” Mulder said, looking in through the back windows, “and so’s our stuff.”

Mulder tried the doors on the passenger’s side, while Scully tried the driver’s side. They exchanged looks through the windows. Both sides were locked.

“You know, Mulder, I can’t help but think you’re becoming obsessed with this werewolf theory,” Scully admonished as they both walked to the back of the SUV.

“Obsessed,” he distractedly repeated as he tried the rear hatch, finding it also locked. “that’s harsh, Scully.”

"Mulder, I'm serious," Scully said, her voice firm. "You… you’ve possibly alienated key people in this investigation. Sheriff Lopez could easily throw us out of here, and he'd be well within his jurisdictional rights."  She watched him return to the passenger side; his brow furrowed as he peered through the window once more. "And I don’t have a change of clothes or my computer."

He straightened, looking at her. “All right,” he defended himself, “We’ve stumbled onto something here is more than what local authorities realize. Maybe they weren’t open to the theory—”

“Maybe?” She exclaimed. “Mulder, there’s definitely something odd about these deaths, but it is not due to a mythical beast. We need to focus on who is responsible.”

Mulder opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t.” She warned him, fully expecting the defense of his theory. Before either of them could say another word, her phone trilled in her hand.

She pointed a cautioning finger at her partner and answered the call. Listening to her speak to the person on the other end of the line, Mulder studied the complex, noting that city hall housed their offices there as well.

“That was Kessler,” Scully announced as she ended the call. “He’s coming out to meet us so we can get our things.”

“Great, you wait for him,” Mulder told her and turned back toward the entrance. “And see if you can get the rental car delivered…”

“Where are you going?” she called after him.

“City hall. Our first victim, Shannon Mitchell,” he explained, hesitating at the doors, “he worked here, maybe I can find someone who worked with him to talk with.”

“Mulder don’t…” Scully started, and he smiled back at her.

“Don’t what?”

She came up to him, mindful of the people wandering the parking lot, coming and going in the complex. Closer to him, she quietly cautioned, “keep the Lon Chaney to a minimum, will you?”

“That’s Lon Chaney Junior to you.” And with that he was gone, through the door and into the depths of the municipal complex.

-------------------------------xXx-----------------------------------

“Shannon Mitchell was a breath of fresh air in Aspen.”

The 28-year-old accountant had just arrived from Chicago, his youthful enthusiasm a stark contrast to the mountain town's seasoned residents. His new position in Aspen offered him not only a grand career opportunity, but also the very thing missing from Chicago's flat cityscape - the sprawling trails that he could conquer on his beloved trail bike.

Every chance given, Shannon would rave about the area's biking paths, a constant reminder of his escape from the urban jungle. New to town and eager to explore, Shannon remained somewhat of an enigma to his colleagues at city hall. They knew his passion for the outdoors, but little else besides. Sadly, his chance to fully embrace the mountain life was cut short by a tragic mountain lion attack, leaving his new life and adventures untold.

Jen Fitzgerald sat behind an orderly desk, her heavyset frame dwarfing the office chair, her warm brown eyes, currently brimming with tears as she spoke of Shannon, her late employee.

The office manager was maybe in her late forties or early fifties, time etched in the laugh lines around her eyes, softened by the kind smile that played on her lips. A full head of blonde hair, the color of sun-bleached wheat, was pulled back in a no-nonsense fashion with a floral hairband, adding a touch of whimsy to her professional attire. A beige suit, impeccably tailored but straining at the buttons, spoke of practicality, while a large silver man-in-the-moon brooch on her lapel hinted at a hidden sense of wonder.

With a sniffle, Jen removed her large round glasses to dab at her eyes before continuing. “He was very dedicated, and I could just tell… he was going to really excel.”

“I understand this is difficult,” Mulder afforded the woman, “but do you know if he had made friends outside of the office, or maybe met up with anyone afterwork, at a local watering hole perhaps?”

“Watering hole?” she laughed humorlessly, “This isn’t Dodge City, Mr. Mulder. We have some very fine restaurants and clubs here.”

Mulder nodded, resigned to her schooling in the local sophistication. “Right, well, maybe one of the clubs then.”

“Oh no, he was far too health conscious to drink, and if he wasn’t working late here or helping the mayor, he was at home.”

“Helping the mayor? Like working late here with the mayor?”

“Oh no, Shannon was doing some tax work or something for the mayor’s businesses. He’d go to this house straight from here a few nights a week.”

“What type of businesses does the mayor have?”

Fitzgerald studied him for a moment. “Real Estate, I believe.”

“Real estate.” Mulder repeated.

“Or something like that.” She amended, adding pointedly, “I think.”

“Would it be possible for me to speak with the mayor…” Mulder hesitated, “I apologize, I don’t recall his name—”

“Mayor James W. Gunderson.” She declared as if offended by Mulder’s ignorance of the man’s name.

-------------------------------xXx-----------------------------------

“Agent Scully,” Kessler called as he emerged from the municipal building, a frown creasing his brow. He eyed her sitting on a concrete tire stop next to his SUV in the parking lot. As he approached, she began to rise. He offered her a hand up, saying, “I’m sorry about the wait.”

“It’s fine. I’m waiting for our rental to be delivered,” she dismissed his concerns.

“I was on a call with the AG and waiting for this to come over the fax.” He held up a sheet of paper.

“The salivary DNA results?” she asked, brushing at the backside of her clothes.

“Not quite. DNA testing wasn’t viable, but they found something unexpected.”

Scully took the paper from him, reading it over for a second before her eyes widened in surprise. “Whoa,” she exclaimed.

Kessler grinned. “Yeah, I thought you’d get a kick out of that.”

“Has the Sheriff seen this yet?”

“It’s been sent to his office.”

Scully shook her head, perplexed as she looked at the report again. “Cocaine,” she read aloud, then looked at Kessler. “Why was the AG testing for this?”

“They weren’t,” he answered, sounding almost delighted. “This was a complete fluke. The agent I talked to said one of their interns found the results when they used the sample by mistake for a baseline.”

“These results are… off the charts,” Scully said, squinting at the report. “If I recall correctly, a positive test for surface traces of cocaine is around fifty nanograms. But, wow, this found over sixty-three thousand on Jeffery Raven’s clothing.”

“If I recall right,” Kessler added, “his toxicology results were clean.”

“Right,” she replied thoughtfully, “so were Mitchell’s. Alice Steinman was the only victim with drugs in her system. Does the AG still have samples of Mitchell and Steinman’s clothing?”

“I’ve already requested they check and retest,” Kessler assured her.

“And they re-verified these results?”

“Twice,” Kessler confirmed, gesturing to the top of the report. “The agent’s name and number are there if you want to check. Hope you can read my writing.”

Scully nodded. “Unless this is some kind of equipment contamination…” she drifted into thought, then continued, “these deaths could be drug related.”

“A deal gone bad,” Kessler suggested. “Maybe they saw or knew something they weren’t supposed to.”

“And this certainly wouldn’t be the first time an animal was used in a crime,” Scully furthered the theory.

“No, it wouldn’t.” Kessler agreed, glancing toward the SUV as if remembering something. “Hey, we need to discuss this more, but I’ve got to head out, there’s another report of illegal dirt bikes on the trails just a ways from here that I need to check on.”

“Of course.” She understood his other duties. “One thing though, what info do you know about  Raven’s last location before his death?” Scully asked as he opened the back door and began to get her and Mulder’s bags out.

“Well, he was leaving work. Took a short cut through a wooded area that led to employee parking for the Silver Stone resort.”

“Silver Stone,” she recognized the name, “that’s where we’ll be staying.”

“Impressive. The FBI really treats their agents a lot better than I thought, it being the government and all.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Silver Stone Ridge is one of the premiere resort hotels in the area. You’re going to be hobnobbing with the who’s-who of who’s-who up there.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’ll have a lot of time to… hobnob.”

“Well in that case,” Kessler set the last bag on the ground and straightened, looking at her, the corner of his mouth curling up a bit. “Would you be able to take time for dinner with me?”

Scully offered a tight-lipped smile. “Uh…” she uttered, thinking on her feet. She certainly wasn't new to this sort of invitation from men, and while a part of her found his awkwardness endearing, it wasn't a part she had time for on this trip. “Actually, I was interested in whether or not you or Mr. Goodman could take me and my partner out to the attack sites at some point?”

“Uh… sure, certainly, of course,” he agreed, sounding awkward. “Just, um, just as soon as I take care of the bikers, I’ll, uh, be in touch with you or agent Mulder.”

 “Thank you, officer Kessler.”

He began to say something, and hesitated, as if trying to figure out what it was he was about to say. Then, “Can I ask you something?”

Scully’s eyes widened infinitesimally. What now… she thought. Was he going to ask if he offended her or if she was unattracted to him, or if he was too old, or… “Of course.”

“Is… is he serious, agent Mulder that is,” he said, looking even more uncomfortable now. “About that business with werewolves?”

Scully was almost relieved by his line of questioning about her partner’s sanity. At least she didn’t have to shore up the man’s pride with platitudes and a diatribe about professional respectabilities.

“Agent Mulder’s methods may seem a little odd, but I assure you he is a thorough and experienced investigator. We're here to explore all possibilities.”

A sedan slowly rolled up in front of them in the parking lot. The window rolled down and a young woman looked between the two of them. “Lariat rental, for agent Scully?”

“I’m Scully, thank you…” She called out to the driver with a low-key level of desperation in her voice.

“Uh, all right, so I’ll call you…” Kessler called to Scully, “or agent Mulder.. when, uh, I’m done.”

“Sounds great, thank you,” Scully replied, purposeful in taking possession of the rental.

No sooner had the Lariat rental agent departed with her ride, than Kessler started to pull out of the parking lot, leaving Scully gratefully alone to deal with loading both her and Mulder’s bags into the trunk.

“Hey, Scully,” Mulder called as he existed the building and jogged toward the rental.

Seeing Mulder, Kessler waved from the window of his SUV as he pulled away. “I’ll be in touch this afternoon…” he called back to them.

“Where’s he off to?” Mulder asked and took over from Scully to load their bags into the trunk of the rental.

“He said something about illegal dirt biking on some trails.” she answered and held up the report. “And he got us the results from the USDA salivary surface testing of Jeffrey Raven’s clothes.”

Mulder turned his head, giving her an expectant look. “And?”

“No werewolf saliva, Mulder, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she explained, maybe having a little more fun at his expense than she should have. “But due to a laboratory mishap by an intern, a ridiculously high trace amount of cocaine was found on the clothing.”

“What?” he laughed in disbelief, taking the report from her to read.

“USDA retested twice to verify. Kessler’s requested the other two victim’s samples be retested. He’s also agreed to take us out to the attack sites as soon as he’s done with the bikers. However, we have easy access to the Raven attack site. He worked at the Silver Stone.”

He looked up at her, “the toxicology didn’t show any drugs in Raven’s system though.”

“Or Shannon Mitchell’s. Only Alice Steinman had drugs in her system. Those results must be from transfer.”

“Yeah, like he was rolling around in it.” Mulder declared as he read the results again.

“Kessler and Goodman’s suspicions about this being a dog attack could be valid if these killings are drug related.”

“We need to see what comes back from Mitchell’s samples.” Mulder said, moving around the rental to get in, “he apparently wasn’t just an avid trail cyclist and dedicated municipal employee, but also doing side work for one Mayor James W. Gunderson.”

“What kind of side work?” Scully asked and climbed behind the wheel of the rental.

“Real estate… or something like that,” he quoted the office manager. “So says his manager, or I should say ex-manager, one Jen Fitzgerald, who is definitely a champion of the mayor.”

“She’s protecting the mayor?”

“In general, very loyal.”

“We need to speak with him?”

Mulder looked at her, “He’s a very busy man.” And added for emphasis, pointing toward town ahead, “Very. Busy.”

The highway narrowed into the main street of Aspen ahead of them. Scully tapped the brakes as they entered the town limits. Traffic came to a crawl in observation of crews in neon orange vests swarmed the streets, erecting metal barricades that snaked down the main thoroughfare. Banners emblazoned with "Aspen Labor Day Music Festival" flapped over the street, streaming from storefront to storefront.

Mulder sat forward in this seat, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Looks like Aspen trades its hiking boots for guitars come September," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

“I see why the Sheriff and Mayor are so busy.” Scully commented.

Driving through town, they came up against closed streets and detours where tents and stages were going up. Meandering their way to the resort they could see why the Sheriff and Mayor were preoccupied.

The resort loomed in the distance like some bucolic monolith from a Stephen King novel. Scully took one look and knew there was no way in hell they were going to get this expense approved at the bureau.

“Mulder,” she began in cautionary voice as she found herself pulling their Ford Taurus up among luxury cars that cost more than she’d make in a lifetime.

“We are here to investigate, and that’s the valet to the left…”

Scully stared; her mouth gone slack, “we’re going to get called on the carpet for this.”

“Called on the carpet? Oooh I’d love to be a fly on the wall when you use your beguiling ways on Skinner to explain this stay.” Mulder teased her, raising his brows suggestively.

“Beguiling—?”

The valet interrupted her, smiling and waving he through, motioning for her to park the car in the circular drive. “Welcome to the Silver Stone Ridge,” he greeted her as she opened the door, “your claim card.” He handed her an opaque business card with a series of numbers on it, which she realized was the license plate number on the rental.

“How--?”

“If you should misplace this, the concierge can assist you to replace it or simply have your vehicle brought immediately to the front.”

“Now that’s what I call service,” Mulder declared with a wry smirk. “Pop the trunk, Scully.”

“We’ll take your bags,” the valet said, politely ushering her from the car and on her way.

“Come on, Scully, this is the life I’ve been hearing about…”

-------------------------------xXx-----------------------------------

To be Continued…

[best-magnus-archives-character]

How many do you have for each bracket/which roles need filling

hi!! sorry it took so long to reply to this, i didn't get the notification on mobile for some reason??

i haven't divided them into the 3 categories i wanted yet, since I don't know if it will be possible to even do 2, but here's a list of all the currently nominated characters, if that helps? im tempted to just skip the whole poll and declare gerry the winner, you'll see why

Gerard “Gerry” Keay: 13 noms

Joshua Gillespie: 9 noms

Jonathan Sims: 8 noms

The Admiral: 8 noms

Agnes Montague: 7 noms

Nikola Orsinov: 7 noms

Mike Crew: 7 noms

Timothy Stoker: 6 noms

Martin Blackwood: 6 noms

Michael Shelley: 5 noms

Melanie King: 5 noms

The Distortion: 5 noms

Helen Richardson: 4 noms 

Daisy Toner: 4 noms

Adelard Dekker: 3 noms

Gertrude Robinson: 3 noms

Karolina Górka: 3 noms

Jonah Magnus: 2 noms

Basira Hussain: 3 noms

Jane Prentiss: 3 noms

Annabelle Cane: 2 noms 

Graham Folger: 2 noms

Alexander Scaplehorn: 2 noms

Elias Bouchard: 3 noms

Oliver Banks: 2 noms

Sasha James: 2 noms

Jordan Kennedy: 2 noms

Hezekiah Wakeley: 2 noms

Jude Perry: 2 noms

Georgie Baker: 2 noms

The Piper: 2 noms

Gabriel (worker of clay): 2 noms

Naomi Herne: 1 nom

Amy Patel: 1 nom

the Werewolf (?) from MAG 31: 1 nom

Alfred Breton: 1 nom

Daniel Rawlings: 1 nom

Simon Fairchild: 1 nom

Homophobic Vase: 1 nom

Jurgen Leitner: 1 nom

Alexia Crawley: 1 nom

Emma Harvey: 1 nom

Elias Bouchard (original) (stoner): 1 nom

Julia Montauk: 1 nom

Evan Lukas: 1 nom

Mikaele Salesa: 1 nom

Laverne: 1 nom

Jan Kilbride: 1 nom

Callum McKenzie: 1 nom

John Haan: 1 nom

Jonathan Fanshawe: 1 nom

Fiona Law: 1 nom

Spider on the wall in MAG 38: 1 nom

Leto: 1 nom

Sebastian Skinner: 1 nom

Callum Brodie: 1 nom

Carlita Sloane: 1 nom

Anatomy Students: 1 nom

Not Them: 1 nom

Peter Lukas: 1 nom

Lee Kipple: 1 nom

Robin Lennox: 1 nom

Jared Hopworth: 1 nom

entries that said Michael Distortion went for The Distortion, while entries that said Michael Shelley/Distortion went for both, and Helen Richardson or Michael Shelley without mention of the Distortion went to the specific characters. there's 2 Elias cause one person specifically submitted the original one which i assume to be pre-jonah. and even then my total is 63. i could run a 32 bracket but it's not balanced between main and minor characters either so i'm not sure what to do right now. considering of adding some on my own, ig? like since some artifacts were submitted as characters i could include the coffin or the calliope as well?

i expected more entries, is all, so i think my plans were a bit too ambitious, but i can adapt

[3xm-draconic]

DOVAHJOJO: a bizarre adventure. Running with the Wolves.

Jotti joins the companions, he refuses the blood gift but must still face the silver hand to save Skjor and cure Kodlak.

Episode 1: Blood Gift.

Joining the companions turned into a whole new quest for Jotti, one where sadly the moron forgot all about the dragonstone.

He and Farkas recovered a fragment of Wuuthrad out of dustman's cairn, Jotti learned they are werewolves and he’s now part of the inner circle, this all happened within a week. 

Eventually Jotti knew Skjor or Aela would take him to the underforge to give him the curse of lycanthropy, Kodlak had told him of the underforge and of the old rituals performed there, he told him that even if Skjor or Aela begged him he must know he has a choice.

He can refuse.

Tonight was the night.

“Well Jotunn your time has come, meet me and Aela at the under forge” Skjor beamed with pride, “Skjor can we talk? It’s about the “gift” you're going to give me” Jotti politely turned to his shield-brother.

“Oh?” Skjor looked surprised “y-you know?”, “yes I do and…thank you but I half to kindly turn down your offer”, “WHAT?!” Skjor gawked, shocked by what he had said.

“Skjor you are my good friend and I don’t want to disappoint you but I don’t want to be a werewolf”, “but brother think of the glory, the power, the hunt!” Skjor tempted, “I do wish for glory but I wish to bring it my own way. I already hold power in my physical might alone as well as my stand and I do enjoy hunting but I wish to remain mortal”.

“Perhaps you just need to see the power in action” Skjor said, “no brother, please respect my wish” Jotti got up from his reading desk and put his book on magic away “I refuse.”

Skjor opened his mouth as if to say something but instead said nothing, he left with Aela to go hunt together and not waste the twin full moons.

“Y-you really refused?” Farkas said shocked, “and he didn’t yell at you?” Vilkas added, “no, I simply asked that he respect my decision” Jotti chuckled as he enjoyed a bowl of potage le magnifique he had made for himself.

Suddenly Aela came into Jorrvaskr covered in blood and arrow wounds “t-the..hand, sil-silver hand” she groaned.

Episode 2: Howl in the night.

Jotti, Vilas and Farkas rushed to her side, Jotti who had been learning more about magic and more spells in the restoration school used the healing hands spell on her, “thank you brother, I feel much better now” she sighed “but you must act with haste, Skjor was captured and I fear we may be too late!”.

Jotti and his shield-brothers traveled swiftly to gallow’s rock where he faced off with the silver hand.

Vikas’s stand, Manowar, a huge warrior clad in red armor, used his glaive to manipulate wind currents. He sent silver hand flying with every swing.

As they entered the fort Jotti saw how cruel the silver hand were. They captured people, some who weren’t even lycanthropes and tortured them, even experimenting on them.

They soon entered the main chamber where they saw a horrible sight, Skjor was set to be dissected and one of the silver hand’s chief leaders, Lyenard the Skinner was waiting for them.

Lyenard’s men managed to separate Jotti from his shield-brothers, Farkas and Vilkas were locked in another room and pinned against the best of the hand.

“Do you know who we really are?” Lyenard said to Jotti “why we fight them? The werewolves, the companions?” Lyenard approached Jotti, his stand’s aura burning a sinister green.

“Werewolves are nothing but beasts, they kill without mercy and without cause, my daughter was taken by one no less than a fortnight ago” Lyenard hissed “most of us are companions too or were at least in the past, I can tell you are not a werewolf mongrel so why defend them, why not join us?”

“You kill people who aren't even lycanthropes, you are the monsters here” Jotti shot back “Time Warp!” he called fourth, “Let the Dogs out!” Lyenard snarled.

7 Ghostly Green Hyena-like dogs with flaming backs and scorpion tails emerged from the aura around Lyenard and attacked, each sting of their tails sapped at his stamina.

Jotti saw that Lyenard was leaving the fight to his stand, he wanted them to overwhelm Jotti, Lynard walked menacingly towards the unconscious and tied up Skjor with a silver dagger in hand.

“NO STOP!” Jotti cried and the air around him stilled, “OORAH” (I h-have stopped th-the flow of time master!) Time Warp said shocked “OO-RAH!” (go! I can not h-hol-d it much l-longer!), Jotti nodded to his stand and rushed Lyenard with his blade. 

Lyenard’s heart was severed and he fell to the floor lifeless in one blow, Jotti heard Farkas and Vilkas break the door down to the main chamber and com running up to him “Jojo you ok?” Farkas shouted, “I am but Skjor is in bad shape we need to get going”.

Episode 3: Season of the witch.

Skjor was in a coma, Aela could not hunt with her broken arm and Jorrvaskr was overall in a somber mood, Kodlak comforted Jotti during this time and became like a grandfather to him.

“You know boy a story says that one of the Jostjarna’s helped Ysgramor back in the battle of saarthal,” Kodlack said to Jotti as they ate in the feasting hall “Stjarna means “star” in the old tongue, it was said he bore the mark of a star on his back and that he came all the way from Atmora to help”, Jotti nearly dropped his spoon “is that how my clan got its name?” Kodlak smiled “in the old stories yes, your clan was named after the star warrior, Jotunn “Thor Talos” Stjarna”.

“Jotunn? Like my name?”, “indeed, I bet your father named you after him as a way to honor your great ancestor…and perhaps because you are nearly as big as a giant yourself, Jotunn translates to “Giant” that's what the name means in the old tongue” Kodlak sipped at his mead.

“And what does “Thor Talos” mean?” Jotti handed a plate of venison to Kodlak, “ Thor or Tor translates to “Might or Mighty” in the old tongue of our ancestors, it means “Might of the Gods” or in his case “Might of Talos” in most translations”.

“Do you know anything else about them, where they might be?” Jotti looked hopefully to Kodlak, “they live near Solitude, up in the mountains, no one has seen them in some time though.” Kodlak grimaced, Jotti did not like the sound of that.

Later that day Kodlak came to Jotti with a question.

Jotti had been considering joining the college of Whinterhold, even though Farkas and Vilkas had laughed at him his shield-brothers still supported his decision. He was at his desk reading up on alteration when Kodlak came to visit him.

He had a favor to ask of him.

Kodlak sat down with him and told him of how the companions were cursed, “so if I bring back the heads of these witches and throw them into the fire at Ysgramor’s tomb then that will cure you of lycanthropy?”, “yes my boy, go now to the glenmoril coven and slay them all, make sure to bring back their heads”.

Farkas came with Jotti on this quest.

“Jojo, why do you wanna learn magic?”, “I was taught a few spells like flames and healing by my old master and I want to further that knowledge” he said to his shield-brother as they traversed the wilds.

“Your old master?” Farkas cocked his head confused, “I was taken in by an Orc and a Khajit mercenary duo and trained to be a spellword…I miss them” Jotti sighed, tears slipping from his eyes.

“They raised you, I can tell, Vilkas and I were orphaned 20 years ago, our parents fought in the great war. Kodlak took us in…you lost your family to the Thalmor too?”, Jotti nodded “I lost them the night of the attack, on saturnalia eve”, Farkas stopped and then hugged Jotti, “thank you Farkas but we have work to be done”.

The two warriors slayed the witches with no remorse, the battle was fearsome, swift and bloody.

“Jojo…can I ask you more about your masters, they sound really cool” Farkas asked as they headed back to Jorrvaskr, Jotti nodded “Ralukar was the Orc spellsword, he was half redguard like how I am half nord, he was a master of sword-singing, strong and brave like a sabercat. My other master was Percival Fine-Fur, a Khajiit monk trained in the sword-dancing art of gout-fang, he was elegant and graceful like flower petals in the wind. He taught me about the world and about life”. 

Jotti looked solemnly up at the stars “Ralukar loved Percy…I was even the ring bearer at their wedding” Jotti sobbed “but the day I came home from the war I found that our neighbor had sold them out to the Thalmor Justicars, he found out about Ralukar’s worship of Talos and had ratted them out in exchange for 20 septims…” Jotti felt Farkas’s hand on his shoulder “…I had to bury both my masters that day” Jotti sighed. 

“…you lost your family to them again…that hurts” Farkas gave Jotti a reassuring look “but if you always remember them they will never really leave you”, “thank you” Jotti hugged Farkas back, happy to have him as his brother in arms.

As the reached Jorrvaskr they saw a terrible sight, dead silver hand everywhere

“Oh no” Jotti uttered in fear.

Episode 4: Puriy.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?”, “we were out doing Kodlak’s bidding, what happened?” Jotti shivered, “he…the hand…he’s dead” Vilkas mourned.

They all did, they mourned for the loss of their leader and both Jotti and Vilkas sought revenge on the hand.

They stormed their way into the main camp of the hand and slaughtered them all, Aela had healed enough that she too took vengeance with them, with Farkas at their side all 4 of them were like an unstoppable tide and the hand soon ceased to exist…at least that's what Jotti hoped.

After retrieving all the fragments of wuuthrad Jotti attended Kodlak's funeral and was met by Eorlund Gray-Mane in the underforge with the others, Eorlund had repaired the axe. “Go, go to Ysgramor’s tomb and purify Kodlak’s soul, he’s counting on you kid” Eorlund handed Jotti the great axe.

They Journeyed to the tomb and fought their way past the souls of previous companions, Vilkas and Farkas had to stay behind, they felt unease by their actions to the hand…and all the spiders, so Aela and Jotti went in together.

Upon entering the main chamber Jotti saw Kodlak’s soul standing next to a strange blue flame, “ah you made it boy!” Kodlak smiled.

“I have brought the witches head, I am here to purify your soul, I promise to not let you down Kodlak” Jotti said, his voice cracked with tears, “don’t cry boy, I’ll soon be free and one day we will meet again in sovngarde”.

Jotti threw the head into the fire and watched as the werewolf soul separated itself from Kodlak and soon they did battle with it.

The beast was vicious and it did not go down easily, it threw Aela and Moon-fang into the tome wall and it nearly bit Jotti’s head off, Jotti staired it down and held his ground. 

The wolf soul lunged and Jotti caught it with his sword, slicing it down the belly, right in half.

“And so you have slain the beast in me, thank you son and good luck Harbinger” Kodlak wished them well before leaving to join the host of sovngarde.

Jotti took his duties of Harbinger seriously and gave good counsel to the rest of the companions, he purified Vilkas and Farkas, he also helped Aela and Skjor find the totems of Hircine. Jotti became a well-known hero in Whiterun and soon throughout the 9 holds.

But Jotti’s Journey is not over.

He still wants to go to the College of Winterhold and increase his magical might, oh what a bizarre adventure awaits for him.

[baronessblixen]

Prompt if you have space for a new one ? - - -

« Mulder, don’t try to be the hero. We will get out of this but please, don’t try to be the hero. »

Mulder and Scully end up in a hostage situation. So it's angst-y.

Fictober Day 24 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,327

I Don't Want Any Regrets

“Mulder,” she whispers, his name like a prayer from her lips. He glances over at her, communicating with his eyes. The soft smile that plays around his lips should calm and distract her, but it does the opposite. He winks at her as if this were a silly game and not a matter of life and death.

“Don’t do anything crazy,” she reminds him, keeping her voice low.

“Do I ever?”

“This is not a game,” she says, louder this time. They both look around and take in the other hostages. Huddled together, a few of them sobbing, others are frozen in fear. There are seven of them, including Mulder and Scully.

She can’t shake the feeling that it’s her fault. It was her idea to stop at the gas station to get coffee. They walked in, musing about what Skinner would say about their alleged werewolf case they’d just finished. Neither of them paid attention as they only had eyes for each other. They stepped inside and immediately knew something was wrong. Worse than that, neither of them had a gun.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the man had said, pointing his own gun at them. Both had held up their hands and done exactly what they were told. Which was to sit down and shut up. Every time Mulder tried to start a conversation and negotiate, the gunmen got a little angrier. Up to the point where Scully put a hand on Mulder’s shoulder, pleading with him to stop.

Now they’re sitting here, quietly waiting, and Scully can see that the gears in Mulder’s mind are working.

“Mulder,” she says again, watching the gunman talk to himself in quiet, mumbling tones. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

“We can’t just sit here,” he says. Scully scoots closer to him, her eyes fixated on the gunman who luckily pays them no mind. She puts her lips directly to Mulder’s ear and he leans into her.

“I saw someone through the window. I’m sure they called the police,” she whispers, keeping an eye on the other hostages. They haven’t heard what she just said.

“What if he decides he can no longer wait?” They change their positions and now it’s Mulder’s lips grazing her ear, his nose buried in her hair. For once Scully hopes the people around them will merely mistake them for a couple and not scheming FBI agents.

“It won’t be long now. I can see you thinking.”

“Hmm.”

“Mulder, don’t try to be the hero. We will get out of this but please, don’t try to be the hero,” she begs, touching his jaw. There’s a five o’clock shadow there, reminding her that it’s been a long day. They were supposed to catch a flight back home. Right now, all she wants is to get out of this situation. Without bloodshed.

“It’s like we’re a magnet for trouble,” Mulder says, turning to her. He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness present on his face and in his voice that she can’t ignore. “What if this is it?”

“It won’t be,” she says, taking his hand into hers, needing something to hold on to.

“It could be. Look at him.” Mulder’s nose runs along her neck, probably to make it seem like they’re lovers comforting each other.

“We will get out of here,” Scully repeats.

“Who’s the believer now?” He gives her a low chuckle. “Let’s look at all the possibilities, hm? Let’s say we won’t make it.”

“Mulder,” she pleads with a whisper, squeezing his hand.

“You know what I regret?” He goes on. “I regret not kissing you. Yes, I said it. I know we don’t talk about these things but that’s what I regret.” Her heart is pounding in her chest and for a moment she forgets where they are, what dire situation they’re in. She can’t speak, can merely gape at him.

“Can we pretend for a moment, Scully? If something happens… I don’t want this to be a regret.”

“What are you saying?”

“Have you thought about kissing me?” Only a million times, she thinks.

“Yes,” she answers instead. He nods, smiling like a teenager who just found out that his crush has feelings for him, too.

“Let’s… just one kiss. Just in case. Kiss me as if this were our last moment together.”

“You are crazy,” she says, but feels herself moving closer to him, turning in his arms. Their eyes flutter shut in unison and then everything melts away. Scully forgets that they’re sitting on the floor of a gas station, being held hostage by a madman. There are no other people here and no fear of no tomorrow. There’s only Mulder’s soft warm lips against her own and his tongue that greets hers in a first shy hello.

It doesn’t last long; it can’t. When their eyes meet, their lips glistening, she knows she needs more. More time, more kisses. More Mulder.

“That was just in case,” Mulder says and she suspects the worst. It all happens too fast to comprehend. One moment Mulder is grinning at her, the next he’s up and sprinting towards the gunman who has turned his back to them. Someone shrieks and he turns around just as Mulder tackles him to the ground. The glass doors to the gas station fly open as a team of officers storm inside, guns drawn.

“Hands in the air!” One of them yells, but it’s too late. A single shot rings out and Mulder stops fighting the gunman. He slumps down and Scully is by his side in an instant.

“Mulder. Get an ambulance!” She screams at someone, putting Mulder’s head in her lap.

“I knew it was a good idea to kiss you,” he says with a grin before he passes out.

*

It’s almost three hours later when he comes to, his eyes finding Scully next to his hospital bed immediately.

“Hey,” she says softly, smiling even though she’s exhausted. They offered to bring in a bed for her, but she refused to lie down before Mulder woke up.

“Hi,” he says. “I made it, huh?”

“Mulder, next time I tell you not to be the hero, can you please listen?”

“Was I the hero?” He asks instead.

“Thanks to you all the hostages are safe. They arrested the guy.”

“What’s my diagnosis, doc? Will I live?”

“You’ve used up another one of your lives, Mulder. You were very, very lucky. However, you will have to stay here for a couple of days. I already told Skinner and explained what happened.”

“You’re staying with me?” Mulder asks.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t throw yourself at another gunman. Yes, I’m staying. They, um, they think we’re a couple and they said I can stay here.” He’s grinning at her. They must have given him strong painkillers if he’s not in pain.

“Now that I didn’t die,” Mulder says. “You think we can repeat what we did in the gas station?” He bats his eyes at her.

“Later,” she says, needing more time. “You just woke up and you’re probably high on painkillers.

“You always say that,” he pouts. “Just a little one, please?” Scully leans over and kisses his forehead. Mulder sighs deeply.

“I’ll take it,” he says, his eyes closing again. “You’ll be here when I wake up again?” He asks one more time, peeking at her.

“I promise I will be here.”

“Can’t wait to kiss you again, Scully,” he mumbles, already sounding half asleep. A moment later, his breathing evens out. Scully gets up and stretches, her muscles protesting.

She touches his cheek, relief flooding through her. Once again, he will be fine. Outside, she finds a nurse who brings Scully a bed she can sleep in. She wheels it close to Mulder’s, careful of the machines around him. Facing him, she reaches for his hand, closing her eyes.

“Can’t wait to kiss you again either, Mulder,” she whispers before she, too, sleeps.

[philicheesecake]

(UL) Broken Promise

Warnings: Gore, graphic violence, language

Word count: 3870 words

Masterpost The back of Eli's head thudded against the hard wall behind him from the impact. Blood poured down from his nose. Rebeka's eyes were flaring with fury and disbelief. She went to lunge for the giant, but Skinner grabbed her from behind, holding her back. This only enraged her further.

"You're lying! Warren trusted you! Dammit— HE TRUSTED YOU!"

She could hear Olivia trying to calm her down, but she tuned it out. Her focus was on Eli, that monster. Eli didn't look too surprised by her reaction. He wiped his bleeding nose with a slight frown, though other than that, it was hard to read what his thoughts were.

"He never should have," Eli murmured.

"Rachel, let's just step back for a minute, I know this is a lot." Olivia put her hand on her arm. Her voice was more firm and commanding now.

Rebeka seemed to falter for a moment, just appearing to overwhelmed to act, before she swung her head back to head butt Skinner and squirmed free. She lunged for Eli again, but Skinner grabbed her by the back of the shirt, and with surprising force, flung her across the room. Her back thudded against the wall and she let out a cry of pain as she slid to the floor. She must have hit her head badly from the impact. She appeared dazed and unfocused, wobbling once she tried to pick herself up, then fell back down on the ground, bleary-eyed.

Skinner didn't seem to have expected this level of impact from the blow, and the surprise only showed through his eyes for a mere moment before he cleared it. He walked over to where Rebeka laid, letting out a sigh. "It's over, Pace. There's nothing you can do about it."

Rebeka rested her cheek on the floor, staring ahead aimlessly. Tears poured from her eyes, clouding her vision. A small sob broke out within her.

Skinner crouched next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. He almost appeared... sympathetic beneath his guarded veil. "Monsters take everything from us. Friends... families... the world we live in... our own lives... It hurts like hell, but... it gives us something to fight for. And you have lots of fight in you. Hold it tight until your knuckles bleed. The monsters think we're weak. But each day by breathing, we prove them wrong. And when you force the breath out of their lungs... it's the only thing that makes this pain worth it. "

He rose to his feet, locking eyes with Eli. The looked away. Rebeka was still shaking on the floor, curled up tightly around herself. The fight in her was short-lived, and now had melted into utter defeat.

"Olivia, can you take her back to her sister? I need to take care of some things uninterrupted," Skinner spoke.

Olivia sighed and nodded. She gently picked up Rebeka's arm, and the girl shakily was brought to her feet. She hugged herself, not raising her gaze from the ground. She was unsteady on her footing. Whatever effect the impact with the wall had on her was lingering. It might have been the only reason she snapped out of aggression so quickly.

Skinner lingered in the room a little longer after Rebeka had left. He gave the giant an odd look. Eli met his gaze, before scowling down at his feet again.

"You see what you do, giant?" the Collector spoke. "Every single person you've eaten leaves a scar. I hope your petty meal was worth it,"

Eli sighed, "Nothing I say or do will make it any different, so it's useless trying. I'm still a monster Always have been. You're wasting your time talking to me,"

"You're right," Skinner said. His hand went to his bandages where the werewolf had scratched him with a slight wince. He seemed to reflect on something, then turned to leave.

"Skinner?"

The man stopped, glancing over his shoulder.

"Go easy on Rebeka, okay? Losing a sibling... isn't easy."

Skinner's expression hardened. "I know."

With that, he slipped out of the door, leaving Eli alone in the room.

***

The following weeks did not pass by smoothly.

Rebeka wouldn't speak to anyone. She wouldn't eat or drink either. Olivia would often find her curled up within the kitchen of the cafeteria beneath the counter, just trying to steal some spare moments of solitude. Warren's leg had been returned to her, and she only threw it in Skinner's face as a response.

While Liss was a child, she wasn't a fool. She understood what was going on. She seemed to reflect off of Rebeka, since she was older. Since Rebeka hid her grief alone, Liss didn't seem to know how to express it. Some other survivors within the cafeteria helped take care of Liss in the times that Rebeka went missing. Olivia even tried to cheer her up between her projects, showing the little girl the ropes on basic alchemic concoctions, even letting her play with a small dose of nymph ice to create flowers. It did help a little.

***

Skinner hurried down the hallway, putting a hand to his head with a painful wince. He had felt like something was wrong from the moment they got back. He reasoned it must have been the giant saliva that was making his wounds feel strange. That damned giant must have infected his wounds. He was willing to bet it was on purpose. It was no secret how much the giant hated him. As all monsters did.

He returned to one of the offices where the Legion members stored a lot of books and files of information. A three-ring binder laid out over his desk with various sticky notes and tabs that kept track of various categories of knowledge within. Stacks of paper were set next to the binder. Reports that he had requested from some Hunters' recon. To the corner of the room, a cop's surviving canine laid, resting it's nose on the floor lazily.

Skinner tried to focus. He had a lot of work to get don, he just felt... antsy... Something just wasn't right, and he couldn't put his finger on what.

He sorted through the papers on his desk, reading through the reports. He would find himself rereading the pages multiple times to retain any information. Maybe he just needed some rest. Yes, that had to be it.

He lowered the papers as he could hear the dog move. He glanced over at it. The dog was licking its paws and grooming itself. Skinner smiled slightly. Dogs were cute when they did that. It nibbled on its paws, singling out each toe, and cleaned its claws. Skinner found his gaze fixed on it for a moment. Something began to occur to him. His grin gradually faded.

The claws.

All color left his face. He scrambled out of his chair, stumbling to his feet. In his clumsiness, the chair knocked over, clattering loudly to the floor. The noise alerted the dog, who stared up at him, cocking its head.

Beads of sweat trickled down the man's forehead. His breaths quickened. He fumbled forward and tore open the drawer of his desk. A single silver-edged knife laid within. He bit his lip, staring at it with wide eyes. He shakily began to reach for it.

***

"Katherine, I need you in my office ASAP."

The woman glanced down at her radio, pausing in her actions. She wiped off grime from her hands. The voice had caught her in the middle of cleaning out some guns the Legion's Hunters would be needing. Across from her, Olivia was at work dousing bullets with a purification ice coating. Liss was helping her measure out the ingredients. It was nice to see the little girl had someone to take care of her when her sister was unable to. And it seemed good for Olivia as well.

"You know you can just walk here, right? We're in the same building, Tyler," Katherine chuckled into her device.  She leaned back in her chair with a slight smirk. "Getting lazy?"

"Please... just come on over here..."

She sighed. His tone sounded serious. "On my way,"

Katherine rose to her feet, quickly packing away the gun she had been working on, then headed out the room.

***

Skinner's office door opened before Katherine could even lay her hand on it. The man quickly moved aside for her to enter. He was holding his clenched right hand close to his chest, partly out of view. She could notice instantly that something was very wrong. He appeared worried.

"What's going on? Is your hand alright?" She stepped further into the room, and Tyler shut the door, locking it behind her. He turned to face her again with a grave expression.

"Katherine... Ten years ago, you made me a promise. Do you remember what that was?"

Her brow furrowed. "You mean when your family..." she paused, nodding. "Of course I remember. I said I wouldn't let the monsters come anywhere near you..." she sighed. "And then you joined the Unseen Legion."

Skinner huffed, "Yeah, that's right... You offered protection, and I sorta screwed that up, didn't I?"

"Why are you remembering this now?" She asked.

Skinner hesitated for a moment, then slowly unraveled his hand from his chest. It was bright red, and appeared to have just been burned.

Katherine glanced down at it, "Jesus, Tyler, what happened?"

"Silver," he stated simply.

Her gaze snapped back up to him. "What?"

"The werewolf attack," he said, bringing his hand back to his chest protectively. "One of the wolves scratched me. Some werewolves lick their claws to clean them."

Katherine's eyes widened. "You... don't mean that...?"

"Katherine, I need you to kill me."

She was stunned into silence. She finally spoke, firmly. "I can't do that."

"Katherine, you promised—"

"I never said I would fucking kill you!" She hissed. She forced a deep breath. "We just need time to think, okay? Partial lycanthropy can be—"

"—Unpredictable? I know. I collected from and studied a number of lycanthropes myself. I know how it all works. Some partials are just as bad-- even worse than pure bloods. If a single drop of werewolf saliva entered my blood— which it did— I'm infected. I'm cursed. It's been a month since I had been scratched.  I— I don't have a lot of time left." Skinner rubbed his arm, glancing to the side.

Katherine put a hand on his shoulder firmly. "Tyler snap out of it and listen. We will figure this out. Not all partials even transform. We can wait this out and quarantine when necessary, but I am not going to raise a finger against you if there's the possibility you're okay."

Skinner shuddered. He slowly pushed her hand off of him. "I don't want to be a monster. I'd rather die than go through any of that. I'm too risky. I could get this entire building infected..."

"Tyler, just wait. Please. You realize how cruel it is to ask this of me, don't you? When is the next full moon?"

"Just a few hours."

Katherine looked down. "Damn." She let out an uneasy sigh, then met his eyes again. "We have time. We'll arrange a room. And IF you transform, we'll act. But there's no saying if you will. I will not lay a finger on you unless you do. Am I clear?"

Skinner sighed. He tapped his fingers along the desk, looking down at his feet. He didn't seem happy about her idea. "Fine. But if— If I change... don't hesitate. Just kill that monster,"

Katherine pursed her lips, then nodded. "Fine. Deal,"

***

The sun had just set, and Eli wished he could have seen the stars. He had been locked in this room for a month now, only occasionally visited by Olivia or one of the Legion members. The Legion took advantage of a giant in captivity and took some samples of blood, saliva, and sweat to use as alchemic materials and research for later on. The samples were useless if collected while he was in camo, so they took measures to restrain him securely during the times he returned to his giant form.

The room was painfully small for him to squeeze into like this. He was crouched beneath the ceiling, sitting in the far corner of the room. A Collector had only had time to work on setting everything up for another blood draw, before she was drawn away by a Hunter needing a word in private about some other matters. The Collector said she would be right back, but Eli had now waited for over an hour.

He just sat there in a tired silence as he waited. When it was nearing two hours, he could hear footsteps just outside the door, then the door opened. Eli glanced up, and the surprise was visible on his face. It was Rebeka. He hadn't seen her in a month.

That strange, rotting feeling clenched in his chest once again. He should feel familiar with it at this point, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Remorse had eaten at him ever since her brother's death.

"What are you doing here?" He managed to say.

Rebeka shut the door silently, then went stopped at the side of the room opposite to the giant. Her arms were crossed tightly, and the rigidness could be seen in her posture and movements.

"I want to hear it from you."

Eli blinked. "What?"

"Warren." She said stiffly.

Eli sighed, beginning to fidget uncomfortably. "I thought Olivia already told you what happened. The Bands..."

"I said I wanted to hear it from you." Rebeka interrupted. She glared at him in the eyes, cold as ice. "Did you want to kill my brother?"

Eli's eyes widened. He hesitated, then opened his mouth to speak.

A sudden crash from the room next door seized his attention. He snapped his direction towards the sound.

"What the--?" he murmured.

Rebeka barely seemed to notice it. Her attention was fixed on him. An anger seemed to rise up within her. "Are you seriously avoiding the question now?"

"I'm not-- how the hell--?" he began to tug on the chain around his wrist. A distant howl broke out through the school. His eyes widened. "Werewolf?!"

Rebeka stiffened. "Wh-what? How did it get in the school?"

Eli looked back at her with urgency in his voice. "Get Liss. Get somewhere safe. The cafeteria isn't secure."

"She's-- she's with Olivia right now."

Eli sighed, "Good. Olivia can hold her own." His ear twitched towards the door. There was a clattering sound, then something large moving about down the hallway. He stiffened. His eyes flit over to Rebeka who was moving toward the door. "Wait! It's right outside,"

She froze in her action, taking in deep breaths. She drew out a knife from her side. "I can't let it get to Liss."

"Rebeka-- just wait, please. Olivia will take care of her. But unless that knife is silver, you can't risk it. Liss has already lost enough without you throwing your life away."

Rebeka gritted her teeth. The wolf could be heard sniffing outside the door. She forced out a stiff sigh, then moved to lock the door. A loud bang rattled against the door and she flinched backwards. Another bang shook the hinges, worse this time.

"It won't hold." She realized.

Clear alarm read through Eli's eyes. He spat on his wrist, then worked to try to slip it out of the chain's cuff. The banging persisted. Splinters and chunks of wood flew off of the door. Rebeka could now see the werewolf's claws tearing into the door. She backed away, gripping her knife more tightly.

Eli gritted his teeth, pulling harder. There was a sickening cracking of bones as his hand was crushed within the cuff, but he pulled it through. He was free.

At that instant, the door was smashed open and the wolf stood within the doorway. It stood at five feet high on all fours, relatively small for a werewolf. Its fur was a coppery orange, and its lips were pulled back into a snarl. It spotted Rebeka across the room and lunged for her.

Eli grabbed Rebeka's arm and yanked her back. She shouted and slashed her knife at his arm, but he held tight, curling around her as a living barrier as the wolf lunged for him and bit and tore its claws into his his arms, trying to tear his grip away from her. Eli wouldn't budge.

He could feel the terrified human squirming in his grip, and her pattering heart and frantic breaths. He felt a clench of guilt in his chest. After killing her brother, she was pinned uncomfortably close to his final resting place, practically held right against it.

This wasn't the time for guilt, however. He couldn't release her while that wolf was around. And he was already significantly weaker than normal, half-starved, sleep-deprived, and dehydrated. His right hand was completely crushed and broken, and his arms were currently being shredded to pulp by the werewolf's rabid jaws.

The door flew open and Katherine burst inside, bearing a handgun. She pointed it straight at the wolf, gritting her teeth, but hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?! Shoot the damn thing!" Eli barks.

The wolf whirled around to face her. It's fur bristled and its jaws were drooling hungrily. She backed against the wall. Her grip on her gun shook. "Skinner... Don't make me do this."

"Wait— Skinner?" Eli balked. The wolf was ready to pounce, but Eli knew to act quick. "Rebeka, get Katherine out of here."

He released his grip around her, then lunged at the wolf. He flung his fist at its skull, driving its head into the ground. The impact dazed the creature. Rebeka made a run for it and grabbed for Katherine's hand. Katherine resisted in the doorway, pulling back.

"Don't kill him!" She shouted at the giant.

Eli didn't respond. His main focus was on the half-conscious wolf, pulling it into a death grip in case it gained strength to fight back again. He was bleeding all over the place, and he seemed to have trouble keeping consciousness at this point. It was hard to say how long he would manage to hold onto the wolf.

Katherine couldn't afford to wait much longer, and Rebeka's insistent tug on her arm managed to finally persuade her to move. Eli was left alone with the wolf, bleeding out on the floor.

***

Eli blearily opened his eyes. Everything hurt. His limbs felt like they were made of lead. He was faintly aware of being slumped over the floor on his face, while his arm was wrapped around something unmoving. He glanced down at it.

Skinner looked like he had been through hell. Beneath the bright red bloodstains that coated him, his face seemed to have lost most color. A nasty bruise swelled up over his forehead, tinted in an ugly purple. He was breathing. Just barely.  They just laid there for a while. Breathing. Eli closed his eyes again, resting.

It was a while before Eli could hear Skinner begin to stir. He he took in deeper, raspy breaths, then coughed hoarsely in his throat. The giant opened his eyes again, looking down at the smaller man. Skinner finally managed to catch his breath again and put a hand to the sizeable purple lump on his head with a pained groan.

"Wh... what happened?" He whispered. "W-wait, where are my clothes?" "Ah, priorities, right?" Eli grumbled with a roll of his eyes. He managed to shrug off his green flannel overshirt and dropped it over Skinner. It was more like a blanket at his size, but at least it covered him. "Welcome to the world of monsters, Skinner,"

Skinner pulled the shirt over himself, almost too tired to operate properly. When he heard the giant's words, he went still. Any remaining color in his face was gone. He opened his mouth to speak, then coughed again. Blood splattered his lips. He rasped a few shaky breaths before managing to find his voice again. "W-What the hell h-happened last night?" Eli leaned back again, looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, letting out a tired sigh. "You happened. Little orange wolf went attacking Rebeka and Katherine. Don't know if ya hurt anyone outside of this room, but I managed to hang onto ya for the rest of the night." He let out a bitter chuckle. "Well ya Collectors like taking monster blood, don'tcha? I think ya took enough outta me for me to have a long break from all that shit." Skinner's eyes widened slightly. "W-wait-- you-- you mean that I-- I transformed?" Eli rolled his head to face him, raising a brow. "Ya deaf?"

Skinner shuddered. "B-but-- no... no... Katherine was supposed to stop it-- I told her to kill it--" His breath hitched, and his eyes filled with terror. "You-- you said it attacked her? Is she okay? God-- I-- the wolf didn't bite anyone, did it?"

"Not to my knowledge. I dunno if ya visited any other rooms aside from this one. I didn't smell any blood on her, though,"

Skinner let out a deep sigh, seeming to relax, just slightly. There was a pause as Eli's eyes drifted closed again. Sleep fluttered just out of reach. Distantly, he could hear shaky breaths. A weak sob. Eli blearily glanced at Skinner again. His hands covered most of his face, though tears were seen pouring down his chin, mixing with the dried bloodstains.

"Hey," Eli nudged his shoulder.

Skinner barely reacted. His breaths quickened, muttering frantic words in a whisper. "God-- I'm-- I'm a monster now. I'm a f-fucking monster!"

"Hey." Eli grunted more firmly.

"Shut the fuck up."

Eli let out a deep breath. "Skinner, chill. Monsters ain't anything new. Ya just happen to be one now. Ain't a big deal."

"I beg your fucking pardon?" Skinner seethed. "I lost my fucking my mind and I-I almost killed my friend!" "And what do ya think happened between me and Warren?" Eli said evenly. "Same song there, tiny."

"We're nothing alike," Skinner growled, then coughed in his throat.

"You're right. We're not alike at all. I was born a monster, and ya got turned into one. But that ain't any reason to ask your friend to kill ya. It's not you or her. It's just... working out where to go from here." He sighed, closing his eyes again. "You're selfish for being afraid of losing her, so ya say ya'd rather die but ya only see it as something noble as putting her through the same kinda loss ya fear. Ya just can't stand the idea of actually havin' to work through this and dealing with this curse."

Skinner went silent for a moment. "Why are you telling me this? You don't give a damn about me."

"You're right. I don't. But I know what it's like to lose someone. Especially at your own hands."

Skinner went silent again. He let out a slow, shaky sigh, then curled up on his side, his back facing Eli.

"Ya can worry about this later. I ain't got the energy for being your therapist after ya drained half of my blood." The giant yawned. His mind began to drift again, close to passing out. The blackness was blissful, and distant from the all-encompassing pain he was a captive of. He could hear footsteps begin to approach the room just as he began to drift off once more.

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x non!binary reader - part 8

---------------

Mulder pulled (Y/N) behind him as Winterfield approached. 

“I was going to bring you that buffoon of a sheriff as your first kill, but...” He grinned, sharp teeth appearing in his smile, “I suppose this works.” Mulder pulled his gun, aiming to towards the mad doctor. 

Suddenly, their stomach lurched. They turned away, puking up what felt like everything they’ve ever eaten. They moaned in pain, holding their stomach. When they inspected the puke, they backed away, seeing that their bile was tinged pink with blood. 

“What did you do to them!” He shouted. 

“Unfortunately, in all of my trials of turning my army, I have come to a conclusion. The DEA will leave their system very quickly and they can get away. However, when I give them the added poison, that...that brings them back to me. The bite cures all.” 

(Y/N) coughed, wet and painful sounding. They fell to their knees, their body jerking with each cough. Mulder went down besides them, seeing the blood splattered from each cough. 

“It’s already too late, Agent Mulder. If you want your partner to survive they must receive the bite. It is their only chance.” Winterfield turned away from them, staring up at the moon, hunching over and beginning to turn.

“Mulder.” They gasped, “You gotta get out of here.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” He said, keeping an eye on. 

“I’m gonna die.” They gripped onto his shirt sleeve, blood staining where their fingers touched, “I can’t be the reason you die too. Please.” Mulder squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Alright, Winterfield. You got your wish.” He opened his eyes, holstering his gun and pulling (Y/N) to their feet, “Save them.” Mulder and (Y/N) stared at the beast. He was down on all fours and looked exactly like the descriptions. The size of a bear, but the body of a wolf. His eyes blazing red. 

“I knew you would see things my way.” The beast growled. 

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) started to panic. They tried to move away from Mulder but he had grabbed them by their arm and held it out. He wrapped his arm around their middle. 

“Mulder no!” They cried, “MULDER!” They watched as Winterfield’s awaiting jaws came closer. (Y/N) pulled at his fingers, scratching even. 

“FOX!” (Y/N) screamed, “No! No no-” They were cut off by a watery huk of blood. Standing before the beast, Mulder grabbed their free hand that was attempting to loosen his grip and pulled it to his side, hitting the cool plastic of his gun holster. The beast’s mouth opened wide, ready to claim their arm in his mouth. 

(Y/N) voice trembled, “This...is for them.” They brought Mulder’s gun up and pulled the trigger. The bullet passed through Winterfield’s open mouth and opened the back of his head. Blood splattered over the walls of the cave and on the agents, the beast fell. Before their eyes, they watched the beast slowly shift back into a man.

It was finally over. The man who had haunted their life, looming over their shoulders was gone. 

“It’s finally over.” They let out a long needed sigh of relief. Their knees gave out, bringing them down to the ground, their vision growing dark. 

“Mulder...I’m going home.” They hummed. He kneeled in front of them, holding them up by their cheeks.

“No, no you’re not. We still have to get your statement, we have to prove that he was the beast. We have the evidence to expose the truth.” He tapped their face, “Come on, open those eyes. Please, this can’t be the last time I see them.” Mulder begged. The last things they heard was the echo of Mulder’s voice calling their name as they slipped away. 

- 

Assistant director Skinner looked up at the agents from the report that he had been handed in.

"So your official statement is that Dr. Lyle Winterfield was comiting these killings under psychosis that he was a werewolf. Clinical lycanthropy."

Mulder nodded, "Yes, sir."

“And you shot him in self-defense.” Mulder nodded. AD Skinner turned to the other agent. 

“How are you feeling, Agent (Y/L/N).” 

(Y/N) took a deep breath, grateful they were able to breathe at all, “I’m well, sir. Thank you.”

“But you know that lying is a punishable offense. You were involved in this XFile, putting yourself and Agent Mulder in danger. This isn’t something I can ignore.” And there it was, the beginning of the end. 

“I know, sir. And I apologize to you and Agent Mulder for that. I just... I had to find the truth.” They said sincerely. Mulder looked at them out of the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“There will be a board meeting about your status going forward. For now, you’re excused for the rest of this week. Your personal travel papers were approved for the funeral. My condolences.” 

They nodded, “Thank you, sir.” 

“You’re both dismissed.”

- 

The funeral was different than it had been the first time. The whole sheriff’s department showed up, hospital staff, nearly everyone in town. Linda Godfrey also showed up, only telling people she told them so a little. The town had decided to keep it a secret, but to keep the tourism alive they decided to make up stories that would continue to bring in paranormal investigators and those searching for the truth... just like they had been, just like Mulder.

They stayed at the cemetery, long after the crowd had gone. (Y/N) stared at the turned up soil where they had to rebury their parents. They stood, fiddling with their hands. 

“I want to thank you.” (Y/N) said to the air, “You knew something was wrong and took me away from that psycho before he could make me like him.” They teared up a little, “I just wish there was a different way home.” The crushing of the grass made them quickly wipe away their tears and turn. It was Mulder with two bouquets of flowers. 

“Mulder, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m your partner, I came to pay my respects, see you through this.” He kneeled down and placed the flowers against each grave stone. 

“I’m not your partner anymore. Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m an agent anymore.” They shook their head, “This was all I had left. I was helping people the best way I could and now I can’t even do that.” 

“About that.” Mulder stood, “I had a little meeting with Skinner and it’s all taken care of.” 

They stared at him, wide eyed, “What?” 

“I explained that because of your involvement we could bring Winterfield out of hiding and we could close the Xfile. He agreed, but you are being reassigned.” 

They grinned, “I could reassigned for janitor duty for all I care, this is great!”

“I don’t know.” He said, “I think you’re gonna hate it.” 

“Where is it? Violent crimes? Missing persons?” 

“Nope.” 

“Come on, Mulder, don’t mess with me.” They shoved his shoulder playfully. 

“You’ve been assigned to the xfiles. You’re stuck in the basement with me.” 

They chewed the inside of their cheek before saying: “Until Scully gets back?” 

He shook his head, “Nope.” 

Their chest burst with happiness. Not only does (Y/N) get to keep their job, they also get to stay with Mulder. They grinned, hugging Mulder tightly. He hugged them back, giving them a small squeeze. They pulled away slightly, looking up at him. His green eyes sparkled and his smile was everything. 

He leaned down slowly, giving them plenty of time to pull away, and pressed a light kiss to the corner of their mouth. He pulled away quickly, seeing their shocked expression. 

“I’m sorry, that was too forward of me-” (Y/N) cut him off with their lips on his. And that’s how it all began, their journey to becoming a special agent and Mx. Mulder.

-------------

My first XFiles fic! Yay! I have another one planned with Krycek but I’m not sure when that was going to happen. It’s a bit of self indulgence fic so I am not sure when I’ll have the details. 

Thank you all for reading!

Taglist:

- @theres-a-dog-outside-omg

- @nyotamalfoy

- @bi-andready-tocry

[frostbeees]

Part 8.5

This is so me to post two of these in one week. You either get everything or nothing with me *shrugs* but when I was finally making up the Jeff/Eric list I realized I had actually read through quite a bit of other stuff that I really enjoyed sooo here we go.

As always, mind the tags however I will try to make sure any specific warnings are listed as needed.

Love’d Best by iaintafraidofnoghostbear - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Explicit, 2k) - We’re really starting with a bang (literally... bad joke) but this one is tagged for dubcon so please keep that in mind. Werewolf!Patty and human!Travis where Patty has pretty much lost control of his human self.

Burn Our Fingers and Change Our Names by @linskywords - Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn (Explicit, 44k) - It very well could be that I’ve included this one before BUT I decided one day last week that I wanted to re-read the whole Wolfverse series from start to finish. The Tyler fail wolf part was the last full part I got through before making this post and I just never get tired of rec’ing this entire series. I’m so excited to eventually read the Sid/Geno part even though I really do not go there.

Nothing Left To Say by @princesstillyenna - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Teen, 1657) - I’m keeping this one around to read whenever I finish something super angsty and just need some pure fluff as a palate cleanser.

The Wolf by @boringdrouin - JT Compher/Tyson Jost (Mature, 8k) - I LOVE JT/JOSTY SO FUCKING MUCH. Also love a good werewolves in the NHL fic. JT as a pining werewolf, Josty as a pining human. Two dumbasses as usual.

Soft to be Strong by @greymichaela - Juuse Saros/Pekka Rinne (Explicit, 12k) - How I’ve managed to make 9 of these lists and NOT include this goalie nesting fic is beyond me. Such a fascinating trope and this one is perfectly angsty and 🥵.

With a Kiss and a Shout by @pattyteeks and @pastelle-pvnk - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Explicit, 4k) - I am very much here for vampire!TK. This is some much needed vampire PWP. (also pattyteeks, your u/n throws me off EVERYTIME bc I don’t always fully read it and I think it’s me 😂)

Bring it on Home by @notthequiettype - Eric Staal/Jeff Skinner (Explicit, 499) - WEREWOLF WEREWOLF WEREWOLF. Enough said.

the trust we have and the trust we share by @crooked-silence - Nathan MacKinnon/Cale Makar (Teen 4k) - CS out here filling up the Nate/Cale tag and I am so happy for that. Some supernatural fluff and I loooved it.

While the Sun Shines by @makeit-takeit - Nolan Patrick/Pierre-Luc Dubois (Explicit, 13k) - HOBOY. I just - honestly, have no words for this fic except that if you want some BIG on BIG action, PLEASE do yourself a favor and go read this. I’ll just leave you with this (because this line SENT ME, no fucking joke): “Ferda,” Luc says against his ear, “that’s what I’m about.”

What I’m Looking For by iaintafraidofnoghostbear, trashcoon(steven_damnkos) - Nolan Patrick/Blake Wheeler (Explicit, 5k) - Today’s trend is nolpat paired with someone you’d never expect, I guess. Sort of an AU where Patty drops hockey in high school. Patty is 17 in this fic and lies about his age so if that’s a no for you, please avoid. The other tags are important too on this one. BUT I kind of love a good daddy kink sooo I loved this one.

fever dream high in the quiet of the night by Anonymous - Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (Mature, 5k) - fuckbuddies to lovers. boys are dumb and then talk about their feelings. spicy then sweet. All of the above. ALSO I am 100% a sl*t for fics where Claude has to step in and make his boys figure out their shit. (did i start writing a fic about that and never finish it, MAYBEEE)

As always, if one of these is yours and you don’t want it on this post, please let me know! If you read any of these and wanna come scream in my inbox about them, PLEASE DO!

[clstldrmr83]

Babble Bubbles

I am surprised at the recent influx of followers and realize I need to cross post some of my older creations that have been exclusively hosted at The Plumb Bob Keep. I only have a few large mods, but I am particularly proud of them even if it took forever and a day to finish and share them.

I’ll start with my Default Replacement Speech Icons... I play a Historical Fantasy styled game, so hopefully some of you will find these to your taste.

Many moons ago, I stumbled onto the Icons page of the UESP- Elder Scrolls Online, and I knew our Sims were longing for new topics of interest and conversation. I give you... Babble Bubbles - These are a mix of mostly ESO and other Elder Scrolls Game Icons, with some Sims Medieval, Sims 3, & a Handful of Random Clip Art thrown in to complete the topic chains.

Base Game Interests:

Animals - Horse, Bird, Fish, Rat, Bug

Crime - Stocks, Shackled Wrist, Lockpicks, Lock, Red Hand. Thieves may be "Caught Red Handed" or perhaps it's Blood.

Culture - These are straight out of TES and might not jive with everyone, but we have: Falkreath, Bruma, Morthal, Stormcloaks, Riften [edited]. But they could be: Pagans, Romans, Celts, Vikings, Britons.

Entertainment - Masquerade Mask, Maypole, Lute, Fanfare Trumpet, Stein. 

Environment - Firefly/Lightning Bug, Leaf, Log, Pig, Flower. 

Fashion - Cloak, Vest, Sash, Parasol, Fashion Comb.

Food - Wine, Cabbage/Lettuce, Pot Pie, Fish, Bread. Because there are so many different food related topics (FT & AL), I wanted this topic to reflect everyday/common foods. 

Health - Tooth, Toe/Thumb, Herbs, Guts, Skull.

Money - Jewel, Coins, Hands Giving/Receiving Coin, Coin Sack, Gold Bars.

Politics - The Royal Scepter, Silver Crown, Chalice/Grail, Broken Crown, Golden Crown. My idea behind the Broken Crown was to signify a Corrupt or Dead Monarch, great for Stories, yes? 

Paranormal -  Crystal Ball, Ghostly Face, Mystical Star, Magic Stone, Lighting Orb.

School - This topic comes in two flavors: Education or Religion, files are labeled for easy deletion of one or the other.

Scroll, Paper, Brain Silhouette, Abacus, Open Book. 

Incense Scensor, Mausoleum, Shaman's Tool, Sacred Tablet, Praying Statue.

Sci-Fi - Werewolf, Fae Woman, Elf Woman, Banshee, Orc/Ogre.

Sports - Blue Flag, Gold Star, Broken Shield, Winner's Tokens, Green Flag. Because there are so many different sports related topics (FT & AL), I wanted this topic to reflect tournaments or competitions. The 2 flags, one for either "team", the Gold Star signifying a winner, the Broken Shield depicting the looser, and the Tokens representing bets placed.

Toys - Noisemaker Drum, Wooden Horse, Blocks, Teddy Bear, Doll.

Travel - Sextant, Compass, Map, Spyglass, Lantern.

Weather - Sunny, Partly Cloudy, Wind, Rain, Snow.

Work - Inn/Tavern Keeper, Fisherman, Craftsman, Hunter/Skinner/Tanner, Farmer.

Misc. -

Pet Interests:

Basic - Leaf, Dog, Cat, Pig, Collar.

Food - Raw Meat, Cooked Fish, Sausages, Cooked Rabbit Leg, Raw Fish.

Hunger - Fish Tail [Cat], Bones [Dog].

Outside - Flower, Partly Cloudy, Tree, Log, Rock.

Playtime - Feather, Lizard, Rat, Balls, Stick.

Scary Things - Claw, Cage, Thunder, Fire, Parasite.

Sleep - Blanket, Rug, Bed, Bed 2, Pillow.

Free Time Interests:

Arts & Crafts - Paint Palate, Woven Fabric, Clay Vase, Thread Spool, Embroidery Thread & Needle.

Cuisine - Empty Pot, Soup Bowl, Spoon Of Spice, Crock, Pan For the second food related topic, I used icons leaning more toward the cooking aspect.

Film & Literature - Wax Seal, Envelope, Letter, Inkwell, Book. Since my game is pre-electricity aspects of film haven’t been included.

Fitness - Fresh Air, Citrus [Vitamin C], Soap, Radish [Veggies], Moon & Star Icon [Spirituality] I went with the idea of Health and Well Being for this topic.

Games - Fox & Geese, Dice, Chess, Horseshoe, Tafl.

Music & Dance - Lute, Dancing Lady, Instruments, Dancing Lady 2, Skyrim Lute. I’ve never been completely satisfied with this one, I might revisit in the near future.

Nature - Beat, Carrot, Grapes, Leak, Berries. This Hobby led me to think more in the direction of Farming or Gathering.

Science - Jar Of Powder, Alchemist's Stone, Potion, Ambelic, Vial.

Sports - Sword & Shield, Mace, Yellow Flag, Bow, Dagger. This is the second Sports Topic for our Sims; I went with a combat training idea here.

Tinkering - Blacksmith Tools, Carpentry Tools, Architect Tools, Farming Tools, Sculpting Tools. I went with a combo of different craft skills with this hobby.

Apartment Life Stories:

Art Story - Bohemians; Black Salt, Vine, Rune Stone, Teeth Talisman, Magic Potion

Computer Story - Techie/Wizards/Witches; Varla Stone, Golden Magic Rune, Mystical Spell Paper, Dwemer Puzzle Piece, Storm Stone. 

Fame Story - Socialites/Nobles; Fine Furnishing, Luxury Items, Medal Of Honor, Rise In Status, Money Chest.

Mechanic Story - Gearheads/Smithys. I couldn’t get away from Dwemer tech on this on; Dwemer Gears.

Sports Story - Jock/Knights. What else is Sporting in Ye Olde Times and likely to spark a story? Hunting! Tack, Bow & Quiver, Mounted Deer Head, Horse, Hunting Horn.

Freetime Book Plots:

Children’s Book: Fae Ear, Magic Lamp, Knight Statue, Bantam Guar [Dragon-ish Creature - ESO].

Cook Book: Pan, Chopped Meat, Salt Bowl, Cut Onion.

Drama Book: Pretty Mask, Hero's Helm, Bloody Dagger, Scary Mask.

Mystery Book: Candlestick, Dagger, Bloody Hand, Potion Bottle.

Romance Book: Fancy Mask, Lock Of Hair, Hourglass, Wedding Rings.

Sci-Fi Book: Magic Orb, Monster Hand, Wizard, Storm Atronach [Rock Golem].

Custom Novel Icons:

AND NOW, the moment you've all been waiting for!! As with ALL Default Replacements, there can ONLY BE ONE; if you have Rugz' Gift of Gab, please remove it before installing my Babble Bubbles Inside the Folder you will find Sub-Folders for SCHOOL & RELIGION, choose ONE, delete the other. You will also find Sub-Folders for FT BOOKS & FT BOOKS/NOVELS, choose ONE, delete the other; Drop Final Choice into your DL's Folder.

DOWNLOAD

[darkangel0410]

Let me make sure I get all your WIPs: 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹😘😘😘

🙄🙄🙄🤣🤣🤣😘😘😘 you absolute bitch, you didn't have to come for me like this

Background (in this snippet) Tkachuks and McEichel, werewolf au, sibling incest, violence and this is more than one sentence so my bad ¯\_(ツ)_/¯:

“You fucking idiot,” Davo growls, low and deep, his eyes yellow; it’s still a week from the full moon and usually Davo’s control is better than this, but Matt catches the faintest whiff of musk when he inhales and realizes the other wolf’s close to his rut. “I should rip your throat out myself,” Davo drops Kassian and snarls when Kassian tries to scramble away from him. “If you put your hands on a wolf after I tell you not to, you deserve to get killed.”

McEichel age-difference, a/b/o au:

He comes almost embarrassingly fast after that, bites his lip bloody trying to keep the noises he wants to make in; the base of his dick throbs and it's more intense than any other orgasm Connor remembers, messier, too, and when he can think again, he runs his hand down the shaft of his cock until he feels the bulge of his knot for the first time.

Background Leon Draistaitl/Noah Hanifin and McEichel, werewolf au:

Someone clears their throat and Noah freezes for a few long seconds, then slowly turns his head to see Davo standing in the living room doorway, somehow managing to look sheepish and awkward; for a brief second Noah thinks about just running away, but he knows Eichs would just chase him down so he tries to act like he's not embarrassed that his best friend's mate caught him spilling his guts.

McEichel college au:

"Oh, what the fuck," Jack says when Connor walks into the dorm room while he's making his bed; his dad smacks the back of his head and the person who's with Connor glares at him, but Connor himself seems amused more than anything else.

Tkachuks, weird au I'm not sure what to tag it as:

The new season starts the same as every other one except for all the crows in the parking lot.

Hughes, sibling incest, a/b/o au, smut:

“God, Jacky, you smell so good,” Quinn growls before he kisses Jack again. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he adds as he shifts his weight so he can skim his hand down Jack’s side until it rests on Jack’s hip, a warm weight that’s comforting and electrifying at the same time.

Tkachuks, sibling incest, (no bondage here but very much in the actual fic itself):

“What are you doing?” Matt asks later that day when he sees Brady squinting at his phone; he’s biting his lip, a sure sign that whatever he’s looking at is important to him, and he’s mumbling something under his breath.

Jeff Skinner/Sam Reinhardt, a/b/o au, mentioned sibling incest:

Jeff knows courting behavior, he saw it every day when he was in Carolina while Staalsy and Jordy were circling each other for years, so it’s not lost on him what it means when shortly after the night at the bar Sam starts buying him coffee every morning, sometimes along with a bagel or a brownie when Jeff was in a bad mood.

*

That's not all my WIPs 🤣🤣🤣 but I'm pretty sure that's enough for one ask lmao

[slippinmickeys]

Release Valve (6/10): The In-Between

She knew he was miserable. Depression seemed to radiate off of him in waves, like strong cologne. One breath of it and you started feeling it, too. They were forever getting doors slammed into their faces when it came to their work – evidence gone or stolen, the ship ascending into the clouds before anyone could take a picture, witnesses no longer willing to talk, memory wipes and bad intent. The werewolf turned back into the man. But young girls, missing girls who seemed to slip from his grasp were the Achilles heel of Mulder’s psyche. He stood in their office with the Vermilion Parish file in front of him, holding a picture of Marcie Vincent. Scully knew he saw Samantha when he looked at it. He considered it a minute and then pinned the picture to a bulletin board near his desk, then closed the file and deposited it in their shiny new file cabinets. The drawer seemed to shut with terminality. She heard the elevator doors before Stone came in. His face was grim, the rhathymia of his bearing from a week ago gone. Isaacs came in a few minutes later, her countenance a mirror of his. This is not how Scully would have chosen to end their first case. Stone did perk up a bit when he got to his desk to find the box with his new computer waiting for him, and the room was soon filled with the cheery crinkling of bubble wrap and packing tape, everyone’s quiet misery from moments before lightening with the happy affirmation of consumerism. “What’s with the Monster Machine?” Isaacs asked when he finally had it on his desk, the sound of her voice jarring the room a bit – none of the four adults in it had said a word all morning. “This,” said Stone, inching out from under the desk where he’d been sorting and plumbing the rhumba of computer cords, “is the cyber security hub of the X-Files. The tech department if you will, and I, your humble technician.” “Great,” said Isaacs, “maybe you can fix my printer when you’re done.” “You get Solitaire on that thing?” Asked Mulder. “Laugh it up,” said Stone, not seeming to be bothered by the ribbing. “Boys and their toys,” Scully said, shaking her head. She stood to go. “I’ve got to get to Quantico.” She realized when she was halfway to Mulder’s chair that she’d been about to caress his head in a show of sympathetic solidarity as she normally would in their office of two, and instead gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Dinner tonight?” She asked him, trying to cover for it. Mulder looked a little surprised, but pleased. “Yeah, that would be great,” he said. “I’ll call you,” she said, as she made her way out the door, throwing a little wave toward Stone and Isaacs who both returned the gesture. This was going to take some getting used to.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“How are your classes going?” Mulder asked her. It had been three weeks since they’d been back from Louisiana, and Scully had been overly careful with him. They’d had dinner a couple of times, as they were now, but that was it. She’d been at Quantico every day and when they had seen each other, she’d shown no inclination for affection, and he didn’t want to push her.

“Good,” she said, without elaborating. She pushed the spring vegetables around on her plate. “Let me know if you want me to come in and do a guest lecture,” he said, “I’m putting together a spiel about the Loveland Frogmen.” “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find enough chairs,” she said, joking without much enthusiasm. “Would you prefer one on the Shunka Warakin?” He asked. “Do I want to know?” “Large predatory wolf-hybrid in Montana.” “Now you’re talking.” “You’re right. Who wants to go to Ohio, anyway?” Mulder reached across the table and gave her hand a brief squeeze. That seemed to snap her out of her reverie. “Anything new from Vermilion Parish?” She asked him. “More of the same,” he answered. “The scorched ATV they recovered from the fire site matches the general description of the one missing from the Vincent residence, but the final report came back – no serial numbers to be found. All physical evidence remains inconclusive.” They’d chased leads with nothing panning out, and the latest ones had trickled in. The case was drying up. “We’ll find her, Mulder.” She said, trying to get a look at his eyes. He let her. “I hope so.” “Do you ever wonder what would have happened,” she said then, as if she’d been waiting to say it all night, “if I’d gone to Salt Lake City?” Whatever lighthearted mood he’d tried to retain earlier in the evening left him then. “I try not to,” he said. Scully considered him for a moment. “I wonder sometimes if you’d have found someone else,” she said, “if I would have.” Mulder felt his heart slow, like it was thinking of going dead. “But I think,” she went on, “that I would have sat around pining for you. Miserable and trying to pretend that I was okay.” And just like that, a lightness filled him. For as honest as a woman as Dana Scully was, she was not exactly forthright when it came to matters of the heart. “There is no one else for me, Scully,” he said, then. “Don’t you understand? There is no me without you.” XxXxXxXxX They walked down the sidewalk toward his apartment, holding hands. She hadn’t meant for it happen, but he’d given her a hand getting up from their table after dinner and just hadn’t let go. A car rumbled by, the bass rattling the car’s windows, dispersing a draft of sound, sending a low vibration though both of them. It was busy in Old Town, fall coming on and people were out, happy to escape the oppressive confines of their air-conditioned world. A group of co-eds were coming at them, taking up most of the sidewalk, their heads together like a coven. Scully felt a momentary self-consciousness in their presence, a throwback to her adolescent id, and as if sensing it, Mulder pulled her into an alleyway. “Shortcut,” he whispered into her ear, though there was no one there to hear. They entered his apartment building through the front, without discussion. Mulder would ask her to come up and she would say yes – they both knew it and so bypassed the moment. The elevator ride should have been awkward, but wasn’t. Mulder and Scully knew how to be quiet together – stakeout quiet, desktop sharing quiet, companionable silence that came from days and years together. They were through Mulder’s door before she knew it and suddenly she was pressed up against it, the peephole above her head, his lips on her neck, his hands in her hair. She felt lush, then. Concupiscent and feminine; as powerful as a goddess. She scraped her nails along his scalp and gave as good as she got. He pulled her along, not moving his lips from hers and she sensed a slight change in the pressure of the air around them. She leaned back, their lips smacking as they parted and she glanced around the room they’d just entered. “Mulder,” she said, surprised. “You have a bed?” XxXxXxXxX He’d cleaned out his bedroom special, just for her. The inevitability of their coupling like a Viking ship on the horizon, he’d taken about thirteen trips to the dump and had considered buying an SUV. The bed had fresh sheets and the room still smelled like Pledge. He would probably associate the artificial lemony scent with sex for the rest of his life. “Uh-huh,” he said, nipping at her lips. He wasn’t going to let her distract him.

He grabbed her by the hand and led her to the bed. There should have been that first-time maladroitness – bumping heads, not sure what to do with hands – but there wasn’t. Scully didn’t need to know what Mulder liked – he just liked her. There was a moment right before flashpoint, before he lost himself completely in the cradle of her hips, her breath soft and hot against his cheek, when he flashed on the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom, and he thought ‘what if?’ But then the moment was gone, and so was he, and Scully pulled him down with her, both lost. Some things you don’t need to think about. Some things you just need to feel. XxXxXxXxX He lay back on his pillow, his breath slowing. Scully had pulled the sheet up over her chest and had her eyes closed, a Mona Lisa smile on her face. “I think I should let you call me Fox now,” he said, trying to gauge her mood. Scully could be repressed, could turn inward if he let her. He didn’t want to let her. She crinkled her nose at that. “Mulder,” she said, pulling out the ‘r’ at the end of his name, affectionately. He stopped worrying. “You don’t think it’s a little weird?” He said, rolling over on his side to look at her. “Me calling you Scully in the sack?” She chuffed out a laugh and opened her eyes, rolling toward him as well. “Call me Dana,” she said. “Right now.” “Dana.” “How did it feel?” “A little weird, actually.” “Then there you go,” she said, her voice turning quieter. He felt her leg move toward him on the bed, her toes coming to rest on his shin. She breathed out a contented sigh and then was asleep. Mulder didn’t sleep for a long time. The moon moved through the sky, scattering shadows panning around the room, and he lay there watching her, wondering at what love was. XxXxXxXxX

Monday roared in like a Nor’easter, the X-Files picking up two cases concurrently – a first. Skinner needed Scully to consult on a case in North Carolina and had long ago accepted that Mulder came along as a package deal. Mulder sent Isaacs and Stone to California to investigate what he thought might be a series of psychic killings. While in North Carolina, Mulder and Scully came to an agreement that they would remain professional while out in the field – keep separate hotel rooms and use them – but that anything in DC was up for grabs, so to speak. They agreed to be discreet, but not secretive. After all, as Mulder had pointed out, since Scully was technically stationed at Quantico, it wasn’t fraternization, and as Scully rather colorfully pointed out one night post-coital, everyone already assumed they were fucking. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. Isaacs and Stone seemed to fall into an easy partnership, investigating cases on their own and concurrently with Mulder and Scully. Mulder, for the first time in his life, felt content. It was hard not to wait for the other shoe to drop. The shoe came, in early June, in the form of a grainy photograph of a girl that bore a striking resemblance to Marcie Vincent, leaving a convenience store in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. With reports of a UFO sighting nearby the week before, the entire X-Files unit headed to the North Woods. They were on their second connection of the day, Detroit to Marquette, the plane a small one. Isaacs wasn’t totally convinced they wouldn’t land on a dirt airstrip instead of a tarmac. Talk about East Bumfuck, she thought. Stone reached across the aisle and handed her a printout of the picture from the convenience store camera. “I cleaned it up,” he said, “and ran it through the Bureau's face recognition software. The markers are a match. I think this might be her.” Isaacs handed the photo to Mulder and Scully sitting in the row behind them. “Who’s she with?” Isaacs asked. There was a hand holding the door open for the girl, their foot walking out as well, but the face remained hidden. “Can’t tell. This is all we got.” “Who sent it?” “Came in anonymously.” Isaacs made a face. “I don’t like that.” “Me neither,” said Stone. Their time with the X-Files had made them appropriately paranoid. “The kids are growing up,” said Mulder to Scully, faking a misty eye. When they deplaned, Mulder had Isaacs and Stone get a rental car, while he and Scully took another – those two cars representing half the fleet at the local rental company – and split up. Isaacs and Stone were to interview the UFO witness, Mulder and Scully headed to the convenience store. The convenience store was located off of US-41 south of Marquette, on a desolate stretch of road lined with only trees and the occasional moose crossing sign. There were no other businesses nearby. It had two old fashioned gas pumps, restrooms around the back, and not much else. The bell above the door rang when they entered. The clerk behind the counter, an older man in a faded flannel shirt and a Cabela’s hat, looked as if the bell had just woken him up. “You guys lost?” He said, taking in their business apparel. “I got a couple of maps.” Mulder flashed him his badge and the man’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “We wanted to ask you about a person that was picked up on your security camera a few days ago,” Mulder said, pocketing his badge. “I got a security camera?” The man asked, confused. “Don’t you?” Asked Scully. “Not as far as I know,” he said, “I been running this place for the last fifteen years. It’s not exactly a hotbed of crime, you know. Mostly I just sell gas and beer to hunters and fishermen. They’re in and out.” Mulder pulled the picture of Marcie Vincent out and slid it across the countertop. “Is this a picture of your store?” The man considered it. “Yeah, looks like mine.” All three of them went out the front and looked to where the camera should be. Sure enough, there was a small camera mounted on a utility pole. “Huh,” the clerk said, “the utility company was working out here last week. Must be theirs.” “Do you recognize the girl in the photo, sir?” Scully asked. The man considered the picture again. “Yeah, I do,” he said, “she in some kind of trouble?” “At this point we’re just trying to verify her identity,” Mulder said. “Don’t know her name,” he went on, “she was with a guy. She was quiet, didn’t say much. Kinda weird, actually.” “Weird how?” Mulder asked. “She never blinked,” the man said. “Damndest thing.”

Mulder and Scully exchanged a look. “And the man she was with?” Scully asked. “Older guy,” he said, “paid in cash.” “What did they buy?” “Gas,” he said. “Oh, and a pack of Morleys.”

[rjalker]

Bitch, super powers let her communicate with and mutate canines, lost the ability to read human body language and tone of voice as a result aka AUTISM!!!! SHE'S AUTISTIC!!! FIGHT ME!!!!

Skinner, super powers let her control insects and other things that are like insects?. You know what I don't know the scientific term for whatever group includes crabs and lobsters and bugs but she can control all of them. As a result, she lost the ability to feel emotion possibly because there is literally no room left in her brain after all the multitasking modifications that were added in by her powers. She's not even aware that she doesn't feel emotions anymore. Possible that the author isn't either... Might be one of those things that you write but don't even fucking realize until somebody points it out to you... Author are you aware that Skitter doesn't experience emotions???

I think her name's Labyrinth, she's definitely autistic

Look what I'm trying to say here is if a character is made autistic by superpowers or werewolf bite or anything, I don't care that they weren't born that way. They're autistic now, and you can fight me.

[leigh-mccoy]

Kost

Thinking about what my Inquisitor and the Inner Circle have to go through in the events of Dragon Age Inquisition stresses me out sometimes, so I created a No Inquisition AU, wherein the events of DAI never come to pass and they're all free to live their lives and go on adventures without the fate of the entire world on their backs.

Here's a snippet of some domesticity between my would-have-been Inquisitor and The Iron Bull.

AO3 Link found here!

Night in the Emerald Graves, far darker and silent than the forest during the day. The thick canopy that provided shade and dappled sunlight now blocked out the moon and surrounding stars. Even the local wildlife seemed to know better than to venture out now, though most were deep in hibernation now that winter was well underway. The only light to be had was from a single candle set on a very large and ornate desk, accompanied by the faint glow of a great fire burning in the sitting room outside of the small office.

The Iron Bull let out a quiet sigh, setting down his quill, leaning back in the desk chair and rubbing at his tired eye. The paperwork in front of him seemed to drag on, a necessary but draining evil. He paused for a moment and strained his ears for any sound, anything at all to give his mind a brief rest from his work.

There was the crackle of logs in the fireplaces around the cabin. Snores from the floor above him, with a volume battle taking place between Rocky and Blackwall if he wasn't mistaken, and he rarely was. He caught the tail end of a worried murmur, Dalish maybe, quickly quieted by a bed mate, Skinner definitely. A dull thud sounded as someone stretched out and ran a limb into a wall. No swearing followed, so it was more likely to be Leigh than Sera.

Bull leaned forward with a groan, suddenly realizing that he'd been half asleep for a second or two. The rather large, two story cabin that he now called home was complete structurally, but there were still tasks that needed to be finished before any of them would consider themselves settled. Dorian and his husband Murk had gifted them with enough qunari-sized Orlesian furniture to furnish the entire house. The master bed, the dining set, and Bull's desk and chair had already been moved in, but there was more still packed away in crates outside, and areas needed to be cleared for neighboring cabins to be built for the Chargers. There were plenty of hands to help, but no one ended the day without being physically exhausted, himself included. He picked up the now dry quill, forcing himself to go over the papers for the third time that evening.

The sound of a door carefully opening t before clicking shut made him pause again. Soft, shuffling footsteps followed, bringing with them a gentle golden light as they rounded the stairs in the sitting room to enter his office.

“Kadan,” His deep voice rumbled with more sleep than he intended. “What are you doing up?”

The squat woman only shuffled forward, pressing against his side as he opened his arms to her. She leaned over the desk, carefully setting the spirit light to float above it next to the low candle. Only once the light had settled did she turn to him.

“They didn't wake you, did they?” Bull asked as he smoothed a hand over his wife's pregnant belly. It wouldn't have been the first time the little one had kept her up with their bursts of activity. Most nights they could talk to them, lulling the unborn baby back to sleep, but there were others still where he would stay up with her, waiting until the child wore themselves out.

“Mm, no.” Krystal shook her head, smiling as she shrugged off the quilt draped over her shoulders, then pressing further into him to pull it over his back. Bull hadn't even realized he'd been cold until he helped her pull the blanket, already warmed by her, over his broad shoulders and tight around his neck.

I love her, he thought with a smile, the swell of the feeling filling his chest.

“You've been up for a long time. I was worried.”

Bull let out a heavy sigh through his nose. “I'm sorry, Kadan.”

He leaned into her embrace then. Still seated, he was able to press a chaste kiss to her collar bone, then again to her shoulder through the fabric of her lilac nightgown. The hand not pressed to her middle looped around her back, his fingers threading through her long black hair, thicker and silkier than it had been a few months prior. His thumb brushed gently back and forth over her belly, Bull easily finding comfort in her presence.

“Is it bad?” She asked, speaking into the quiet that had befallen them.

Bull carefully pulled back, following her gaze to the paperwork on his desk. The writing was in a coded shorthand known only to Krem and himself, but despite her own trouble with numbers, Krystal knew just enough to know finances when she saw it.

The pregnancy had been a surprise to everyone, though a thoroughly welcomed one. No one had caught it until she was already four months along and heavily ill, leaving the two of them with precious little time to make critical decisions, and almost no time at all for Bull to prepare for what those would entail. The Chargers, being the large misfit family that they are, rallied around the couple, pooling their resources and scraping together what supplies and funds they could. They all agreed it was all hands on deck until after the new “recruit” arrived, but that meant that no jobs had been taken in the past two months, and no coin either.

They'd cut costs where they could, but travel had been slow due to the toll the pregnancy was taking on Krystal. As worrying as it was, Bull would have stopped and settled down anywhere with decent ground had Stitches and Leigh not been there to assure him that despite her symptoms, the pregnancy was going well, and Krystal would be fine so long as they tended to her and rested as much as possible. Along the way they ran into people they'd met in the years past, people they had allied with, and eventually became good friends with. Excited for Bull and Krystal's new venture, they'd joined in, pooling their own resources and lending a hand in whatever way was needed. The help and company was much appreciated, but only slowed the depletion on their savings but a small margin.

His wife was nearly always confined to the nearest bed or chair, weary and sick from the pregnancy, and Bull hadn't wanted to add to her stress. But, she was his wife and Kadan, and he wasn't going to lie to her either.

“We'll last another month and a half, if we're careful.” He picked up the parchment, reading over it as he spoke. Krystal rubbed gentle circles on his shoulder, letting him know that it was okay to continue.

“It's not a deep dent in the savings, but sizable enough. We've been saving coin where we can, but now there's more mouths to feed and people to take care of. Varric throws coin in when he thinks he can get away with it, and I appreciate it, but. . .”

“But we shouldn't rely on his coin forever, and you want to be stable before the baby comes.”

Bull nodded, setting the parchment back onto the desk. He pulled her closer to him, letting her rest against him as he placed his other hand back onto her belly. He met her violet eyes, raising a brow.

“Any ideas?”

Krystal hummed, the hand on his shoulder stopping it's gentle massage as her index finger tapped against his skin.

“Stitches and I could go into Val Boteau and sell some of our potions.” She suggested.

Val Boteau was a small village located about a mile to the south of their settlement. It was mainly a small fishing town, its commerce coming from the shipping of fish and sugarcane, but it was just large enough to have a Chantry and a minor lord governing it. Bull's initial impression of the townspeople were that they were close knit and outwardly friendly, but he didn't know or trust them enough to allow his wife and their half-qunari, half-human baby into their midst. Not without half of the Chargers accompanying her, at least. The potential outlash of close-minded idiots wasn't a risk he was willing to take with his new family, not just yet.

Bull smiled, telling her as much. “That's pretty good, Kadan, but,” he gently prodded a finger into her belly. “I don't trust our new neighbors. Not yet. This is Orlais. Small town people are either really friendly, or really small minded. And I. . .” His speech drifted to a halt. He took a deep breath, pushing himself to be open and vulnerable with her. “I don't want to find out which one they are the hard way. Not with the two of you caught in the middle.”

Krystal smiled softly, moving her hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek.

“I understand, beloved. But I'm still going to help at least make the potions.”

“Keep the best ones for us,” For you, just in case. “And you've got a deal.”

“A deal, then.” She smiled, the motion lighting up her eyes even in the dim room. “On top of that, I think Blackwall mentioned that he likes to fish, and we could send Leigh out to forage and hunt.” Krystal covered her mouth, stifling a giggle.

“If we could separate her and Cassandra for long enough.”

“On the contrary, Kadan. Send the two of them together. We'll lose three of our heavy lifters, but if Leigh gets caught by strangers, no one's going to question the Lady Seeker if she tells them to leave the tame werewolf be. And, if Leigh had someone out there to impress, she's going to bring back the biggest and best stuff she can find.”

The mage stifled more laughter, “You sound like you're speaking from experience.”

“Hey, Ben-Hassrath, remember?”

Tal-Vashoth now, thankfully., he adds to himself as he feels the weight of their unborn child nestled safely between them.

“Right, because you were already impressive enough just as you are to woo me.” She lifted her chin, doing her best to look pleased with herself while barely able to reach his eye level. “No fancy deeds. Just your sharp mind and rugged good looks.”

“You're trying to butter me up, but damn, you're right.”

They both laughed then, quieted by a kiss he initiated and she met halfway. It was calm and lighthearted, exactly what he needed at this hour.

“Mm, and on a completely unrelated note,” he spoke softly against her lips. “None of my “deeds” caught your attention? Not that one time I took down a great bear unarmed, or made you that crown out of sunflowers, or all those times I kicked in those walls, or -”

Bull pressed another kiss to her lips as she broke into another fit of laughter. Besides kissing her being one of his all-time favorite pastimes, there was no need to wake up the rest of the house with their lovers’ antics. Though, Varric wouldn't have minded much, as nosey as he'd been for new writing material.

They broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, the tired calm from earlier in their conversation returning. Bull studied her face, looking as tired and content as he felt, recommitting it to memory. The hand still cupping the left side of his face pulled gently, bringing him to bow his head as his wife pressed gentle, bow shaped lips to his forehead.

“Feel better?”

Bull nodded. “Thanks, Kadan.”

“Anytime, beloved.” She reached back over the desk, but picked up the candle by its holder, leaving the golden spirit light in its place. Turning back to him, her eyes held his pleadingly.

“Come to bed soon, please?”

Now it was Bull's turn to cup her plump cheek, bringing her in for one last kiss.

“I will Kadan, I promise.” She moved to part from him, but he held her gently in place.

“Hey, I love you.”

He knew he'd gotten to her by the way she blushed and leaned into the hand on her cheek.

“I love you too.”

With that, Krystal reluctantly left his side, her soft waddling steps and the glow of the candle steadily fading. Only once he heard the door to their bedroom click shut did Bull turn his attention to the parchment on his desk. He picked up his quill, looking out his window and still finding nothing but pitch black. It was easy to find where he'd left off, and easier still to finish running through his calculations now that he had a plan ahead of him. Finally satisfied with his work, and no longer able to ignore the pull of sleeping in the first bed he'd owned in decades and a wife who was honestly his everything, Bull filed away his papers, put away the quill and inkwell, then picked up the spirit light, leaving his office dark behind him.