#he is the smoothest man alive

[carterssant]

Wyll Ravengard you will always be the bladest of frontiers

[writteninlunarlight-years]

I know that sinners canonically cant have kids but I don't care atm cause I got baby fever REAL BAD. So lets just... pretend that fact doesn't exist for this ask haha. Can you do headcannons for how Adam, Lucifer, Alastor, and Husk would react to finding out their s/o is pregnant?

Adam

You were terrified to tell him at first about the pregnancy. Being the first man and all is hard, but being the first man's angelic kid now may be more challenging.

Not to mention, Adam didn't give off fatherly vibes; he was more like a daddy in the sheets vibe. However, what sealed the deal for you that maybe he could be a father was how he treated Emily.

When you finally confessed, Adam was the happiest man alive. He doted on you hand and foot. He wanted you to have the smoothest pregnancy, and after seeing Eve do it a bajillion times, he had a good idea.

He loved holding your belly for you. Do you want 5 extra minutes of breathing room? Sure, he got you. Do you want to sleep on your side? He is right there.

When you finally pop, he is there the whole time, coaching you through the experience. He holds your hand and lets you call him every name in the book with no sarcastic remarks.

After you hold your baby first, he is eager to be the second. As he holds your bundle of joy, he is a broken, happy man. He will do everything to protect your child and you. He would still be the same old Adam, but with his lover and child, he is a big old softie.

Lucifer

He openly talked about another child, often even getting Charlie to join in. He wanted to have a family with you so badly, and even when you told him no, Charlie was enough, he still tried.

You were the one that was the most afraid just because your body was changing and that can be scary. However, Lucifer loved every second of your changing body. He would even show you what size the baby was each month.

He was about following the best routines and processes to have a child. So he kept you on a regimen; however, our man here was not afraid to let you cheat a few times to curb those cravings the baby was making.

He warned you how big Charlie was and offered that maybe a C-Section would be better, but both agreed whatever the doctors and midwives say you'll do. So long as you lived, he was happy and content.

When you finally had the baby, Lucifer fainted approximately 4 times. No one fully knew why, but he did get found all 4 times by various staff at the hospital.

Once he got to hold the baby, he was a tearful mess. Honestly, until your child was about 6 or 7, he would cry holding them. He is a fantastic dad who cherishes all the time he gets with you and your now two kids.

Alastor

The man was in denial for a very long time. He was convinced he never needed children, that he wouldn't be like his father and would become a corrupt powerhouse.

Yet when you ashamedly asked one day what he would say if you were pregnant, he was a blushing mess. You, his little lover, full and round with his offspring.

When he realized you asked cause you actually were, he was terrified and elated. He went to Rosie first to learn all he could to help you.

He was far more affectionate and possessive over you, the animal instincts kicking in. He wanted to ensure you were safe and well taken care of so you could make him a fine, healthy baby.

When you finally went Into labor, his nerves were overwhelming you, so he had to sit outside. As soon as the doctors came out, he was rushing into your room to see you.

Once it was his turn to hold the baby, he genuinely cried and smiled with the child. Soft coos and smooth jazz played as he rocked the baby. He was so excited to make a little psycho prodigy.

Husk

He never wanted kids. Saw them as an annoying excuse to give up on life. He wanted money, power, and fame. That was till his soul was taken. Then he didn't want kids cause fuck Alastor.

However, you came into his life, and things just changed perfectly. These urges to domesticate and have a soft life with you. Even with Alastor looming around, he wanted to have a little family.

He feared what Alastor would do or say when you showed him the test. Yet he was happy to know you wanted to go on this journey with him.

He was supported by most of the hotel and was able to get you a whole nursery set up so that you two could easily care for the baby while still maintaining your duties at the hotel.

When you finally popped, he wasn't expecting multiple babies. I mean, yeah, your stomach was big, but three kids at once. He was a little shell-shocked, to say the least. Cats always have a big litter.

He was a soft and caring father. He would never drink while the kids were awake and made sure you didn't do all the work alone. He loved being the one to calm their worries with sweet words and gentle touch.

[libertyybellls]

silver soul !

pairing; finnick odair x fem reader

summary; you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.

contains ; ANGST, sadness, unconfessed loves.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you’re sitting atop the smoothest rock nearing the shoreline, too close to be dry but too far to be soaked. the air is cool despite the season. something somber lays in the air- as if nature can read the silence between you and finnick.

oh, finnick.

you wait for him to speak, for him to say goodbye and let you go. let you move onto your impending doom. but he doesn’t speak- he doesn’t even move. no noise is emitting from him, you’re not even sure you can hear his breathing- the typically obnoxious huffs and puffs he exudes are gone and he remains next to you in these final moments on district 4- refusing to speak.

he’d prayed to any god that would listen for the 68th hunger games to have mercy on you. he wouldn’t give just an arm and a leg for your safety. he would give anything that belonged to him to ensure that you’d return home, back to him, back to whatever you two were in.

he could’ve crumpled to the floor when he’d heard your name called, when nobody had volunteered. why you? why not anyone else? anyone but her.

“i’ll be okay.”

you couldn’t promise that, you knew it was a lie, you’re only 16, you have nothing to depend on getting you through the games.

“i’ll be your mentor. i’ll find you sponsors. let me help you.” finnick pleads, his eyes lowly looking into yours.

it is only then you want to break into pieces in his arms. you want to sob. you want to retreat back to your family, back to his safe presence. he looks so pure with the sparkle of grace in his eye, deeply at variance to the picture that’s been painted to the capitol. his altruistic belief in you when even now, you are certain you won’t make it far in these games, gives you a rush.

you don’t respond to his desperate offers. you only look down to your lap- at your dress playing with the simple garment. you laugh breathily, “what are the odds.”

‘not in my favor’ he selfishly thinks. he may still have a life whether you win or lose this game- but will he be alive? will he have his anchor?

he shames the world, shames the capitol, shames all of the people who sat back and let you walk onto that stage, shames the game makers who would ever let you step foot in that arena. he needs you to be okay. this world is cruel, cruel to do this to his girl.

“please trust me, i will get you out of these games. you will be a victor and we can live in peace, y/n.”

he sins. he lies. he deceives. straight through his teeth. no matter the outcome you will never live in peace once your out of this. you will never be the same girl.

you think back to his own games. though he has yet to directly say his nightly terrors, his daily horrors, the acts he’s committed that he will never say as he looks into your loving eyes. the capitol has not had lenience on this boy, only a boy, but with troubles of a man.

there is no outcome of this predicament that either of you favor. no scenario in which the world grants you the rest you deserve. you want to scream, cry, pour your heart into him. let him fully consume every fiber that holds you together, all the words you’ve never yet said to him lay heavy on your heart. now it is your turn to stay silent, to lose all oxygen in your lungs, let the blood leave your face. but your voice fails you, “i trust you finnick.”

i trust that i am safe with you. i trust that you won’t let me die. i trust that i will make it back to you. i trust you.

he pulls you into him, his cheeks are wet, there’s a lump in his throat but he does not speak. he simply holds your head onto his chest- his fingers lock into yours as if that’s where they were made to lay.

your words continue to lie dormant in the back of your shared minds- but you let the angry waves speak for you. the greying sky share your sadness, the cold drops of water that reach your legs will bring you back to life- rejuvenate your soul ties. this is the peace you’ve been granted- this is all that is fair in your life.

only in this moment will he have you as you are now, in his arms, still so fragile but he holds you intact.

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ day two of @tommykinardweek : acceptance, it also includes themes from day six : tommy begins!

a tiny early tommy ficlet <3 enjoy

-

Tommy Kinard has always struggled with belonging.

It's not that deep. He's a man with his father's name who isn't welcome in his father's house. He's a gay man in a military family, where those sorts of things only happen to other people. He's engaged to a woman he doesn't love, working for a man he hates, in an industry that likes to pretend people like him don't exist, but at least if he keeps his head down and his standards high he might get out of this alive. There's no room for belonging in a world like that.

What might be a surprise, though, is that Tommy feels the least alone while flying. Up in that pilot's seat, it's him and his thoughts, and even if there's someone in the seat next to him or the jump or the cabin, there's something that's just less – pressured, about it all. Plenty of things for his mind to keep up with, maybe, to keep him from ruminating. Lighter air. Longer views. Could even be it's as simple as the thrum beneath his feet feeling like something he can control instead of knocking around on the ground like a pinball just trying to survive.

Either way, the rush of swooping into land is something he's missed since he's come back stateside. His stomach jolts as the wheels touch down – he's rusty, okay, maybe it's not his smoothest – and he can feel a smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't dare free it. He's on land now, and Captain McGuire is a no-nonsense man.

What, you want me to tell you you did a good job? He can already imagine him saying. Get out of here. Next!

To be fair, he doesn't even know the man; it's just what the leaders in his life have been like. He hasn't even really noticed how hard he's braced for disappointment until McGuire lets out a sort of a cheer, and claps him on the shoulder.

“Nice moves, Firefighter,” he praises. “Flying colours. When can you start?”

Tommy blinks. He still hasn't taken his hands off the stick.

“Just like that?”

“Well, not just,” McGuire amends. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a letter. “I asked Captain Nash what he had to say about you.”

Tommy's heart hammers. In spite of himself – he knows he's good at this – he almost expects: DO NOT HIRE. KINARD IS A NO-GOOD LOUSE WITHOUT A SINGLE BRAIN CELL BETWEEN THOSE GIANT EARS. Even so, he can't help but scan it. Words like exemplary stick in his throat and he wonders if that's what Bobby was smiling all wistfully about last shift. He hadn't told the man, and if it were anyone else he'd probably be pissed that one of his subordinates went around his back for a transfer interview like this. But apparently, that isn't how Bobby rolls, and Tommy's heart could just about combust.

“Captain Nash is a good man,” he manages.

“Reckons you are, too,” McGuire assures him. “Shall we say two weeks? Get your affairs in order?”

“I'll be ready in one, sir.”

“Well, alright.” McGuire nods and holds out his hand and finally, Tommy lets that smile crack through. He shakes it fiercely, knows he's clutching too tight, but McGuire takes his enthusiasm In stride.

“Welcome to the 217.”

[luimagines]

That Dragon AU Part 16

@cafecourage This is going to be a fun chapter :D

Masterlist

First Chapter/ Previous Chapter/ Next Chapter

Chapter 16: Not The Smoothest Exit

Warrior smiled. "I typically am. But they can't entrust the work to someone who's bound to leave at any moment, now can they?"

"I think if I save up enough we would be able to buy a place outside of Castle Town. What do you think? The castle isn't exactly... a decent place to house a family. I've seen the best and worst of it to be honest." Enno tilted their head.

"I can try to help out with money, but I would like to have a small garden." Enno sighed, thinking about the future now. "Having a place outside of Castle Town is also quieter. I just worry about the commute if you work super late into the night."

Warrior snort. "Not if I save up to retire early."

He sighs and leans back in his chair. "It wasn't something I thought I would able to have but I wouldn't want to actually want to do this work forever, you know? It wasn't even in my plans when I joined to army. I never would have thought I would have gotten up to this point."

Enno bonked his shoulder with their head. "It's your life. Again, I'll try to do my own thing to help out. I joked about it a few times but I've always wanted my own small cafe or bakery. We have awhile to figure this out." 

Enno finished their food.

Warrior perks up a bit. "That sounds lovely, Sweetheart. No harm in at least laying out desires on the table though, right? How else are we supposed to plan ahead anyway?"

Legend walked into the room then. He took one look at Enno and Warrior and turned on his heel, attempting to head out. Hyrule stops him. "Legend, be nice."

"This is too much in one week." He states. "First the Old Man now the Captain? It's got to be something in the air."

Enno stuck their tongue out at Legend. "I don't see the problem with this. You’re the one always joking that this was our honeymoon." They go back to having their head on Warrior's shoulder. "How has your week been?"

Hyrule snorts and joins the table easily enough. "It was great! I got to finally get the nurses teach me some stuff. Not really magic stuff though, which is a bit dull but I suppose we're all better equipped to deal with injuries in the future."

Legend smirks. "You should have seen this guy. He pulled out the puppy eyes and everything. The nurses never stood a chance."

Enno snorted. "Be nice to them. They don't get payed enough to deal with all of our shenanigan's. But it's good that you had fun." Pulling back, Enno grabbed their coffee because they were getting tired again. "Speaking of which, we have to go back to get the prescription. Almost at the homestretch."

"I'm just about done." Warrior looks at them. "Are you sure you don't want to eat more? You've hardly touched your food, hun."

Legend rolls his eyes, but he points at Enno with his fork. "If you have the same eating habits as the Captain and we weren't aware of it at the time, I need to you to be fully aware that I'll drag you to eat as well. Don't test me."

Enno groaned. "I'm don’t! I just don't really eat that much for breakfast. I had the toast and fruit. It’s fine. Let me drink my coffee in peace before threatening me." There was no malice there. They knew Legend was just like that.

Legend sticks his tongue out and eats his food without fussing. "My threat still stands."

Hyrule snorts. "It's like being threatened by a cupcake."

Legend's head snaps to him. "I can take you down."

"Try me."

Warrior clears his throat, getting Enno’s attention as the other two bicker. "Ready, Sweetheart?"

They snagged a mini bagel from the plate to get Legend off of their back. “Now that I apparently eaten more, yes, I am” They begin to break off pieces of the bagel to eat as they stand. “I hope it’s ready. Do you guys know where we are all meeting up?”

“Wild said the first lounge on the right of the entrance.” Hyrule spoke up, ignoring Legend and his threats of being buried alive.

"Coming in? Or going out?" Warrior stands as well, stacking the plates and pushing in the chairs.

"Going out." Legend salutes lazily.

"Got it." Warrior nods and takes Enno’s hand. "We'll be there soon enough then."

Enno began nibbling on the small bagel, waiting for Warrior and finished it by the time he reached for their hand. “See you!” They let him lead them away and out the door. “You got me thinking about a future with you now. Thanks. I don’t hate it but it didn’t need to take my brain cell and distract it.”

Warrior pauses with mild panic in his eyes before he relaxes, laughing. "Welcome to my world. It's lovely here."

He swings their hands and easily retraces their steps back to the infirmary. "You can write about it and we can see how many things we can make a reality."

“I could but I could also use this as ammo against you.” Enno looked around them, trying to remember the way to the infirmary. “Make you think about it more than me. Revenge.”

"I'm always thinking about you." Warrior says softly. He opens the door to the infirmary and takes a different turn. "Not a moment goes by that I’m not thinking about you."

Enno, however, had automatically went the other way and stumbled a bit following him. “First off, sorry. Second, you cant just say that. I swear-.” Enno’s voice dropped to a whisper. “If we weren’t in public I would make you melt and head empty.”

Warrior goes to open his mouth before he shuts it with a click, his own thoughts turning his face a bit pink.

"....I had a quip. But you're right... we're in public." Warrior ruffles his own hair. "Anyway... It doesn't take much for you to do that anyway. I've been completely smitten for a while now."

They snorted, looking away. “Oh really? I would love to know how long you’ve been like that. Since we haven’t been on this adventure for a long time now.” 

They reach the desk of the new area with a clearly exhausted young woman behind the counter.

Warrior doesn't answer their question and instead turns to address the receptionist. However, he only has to breathe in her direction before she looks up, startles before she stands and moves out. "I'll go see if they have it ready now, Your Lordship."

Warrior tries to not deflate. "Thank you."

He then turns to Enno with a nervous smile. "To answer your question....Try week 3."

“I can’t get used to the title.” They mumbled, beforeregistering what Warrior said. “Wait- 3 weeks since we’ve- huh. Honestly, I thought around week 5? But now I know that was just my brain being anxious.” They shrug. “Either way, I fell around 4.”

"O-oh." Warrior blushes unexpectedly and kicks his toe agaisnt the floor. "I uhhhh… probably could have done something a lot sooner then, huh?"

He smiles boyishly. "But no... I fell pretty quickly when I felt like a moron after trying to do something cool and failed at it. It was less when Legend pointed it out. But you laughed... so hard. You joined in the teasing even. I didn't think I'd find someone making fun of me refreshing."

Enno was shocked, then looked down, blushing. “Oh….”

They didn’t know how that was the thing that got him. Honestly, they couldn’t remember which time that was because it really was a common occurrence. “I mean, while this whole trip was fast, I don’t think I would change it for the world.” They teased him.

"You and me both." Warrior looks towards them with hearts in his eyes.

The receptionist comes back with a small paper bag with a bottle inside. Warrior stood to go get it.

"Ok, so, eat with a meal, eat before bedtime, take daily. You have enough for two months. Do you have any questions regarding the medication?" The receptionist handed the bag to Warrior.

"I don’t." Warrior looks at Enno. "Do you?"

“Nope. Thank you.” They go up to him and took the bag from his hand. “Have a good day!” They pulled him along as they left the medical bay. 

“Anyway, Link?” Enno looked up at him. “I love you.” They turned to look forward and kept walking swinging their hands together as they walked.

Warrior blinks and goes soft, his hand squeezing theirs tightly. "I love you too."

They walked together in relative silence as he led them both through the castle to the lounge where everyone was.

"LINK!" Lana yells from behind the two of them.

Warrior curses under his breath "What now?"

"I'm coming with you. God forbid we get separated in the timeline." Enno turned around to see Lana running up to them.

"What's up, Lana?" Enno asked as soon as Lana could catch her breath.

Lana bends over, panting as if she run a marathon to get to the two of them. She opens her mouth to speak before she goes shock silent. Her eyes dart to their faint but visible new scars. She coughs, a blush on her face before she addresses the two of them. "I hate to be the barer of bad news but Cia is awake. She's looking for you."

Enno let go of Warriors to go to support Lana. "It's fine. Thank you for telling us. But please breathe." After she gets her breath again Enno asked. "Where is she currently? And is she on a rampage?"

"She's... calm." Lana says hesitantly. "That's what's worrying."

Warrior groans. "Well I was hoping to avoid her entirely. Do you think you can stall until we shift?"

Lana bites her lip. "I... can try."

Enno had HIGH doubts that Cia wouldn’t just come to them anyway. "Honestly, I'm more worried that we don't have a choice in that matter. I would rather not see her since she might see the things." They lifted up their marked hand. "It might make that calm instantly disappear."

Lana tilts her head. "That’s... impossible. But I wouldn't put it past her to try."

"Which is why I don't want to see her face." Warrior takes Enno’s hand once more before he pause. ".....No offense Lana."

She smiles softly. "I get it. She's done enough damage. How's your wing?"

Warrior shrugs. "Getting better."

"I was surprise you could still fly around yesterday." Enno mumbled, knowing that Warrior shouldn't have done so. They twisted their hand so they were holding his as well. "The shift or portal might be coming soon."

Lana narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Link did what?"

"Ok! Thank you, Lana. Love and appreciate everything you do!" Warrior started to pull Enno away. "I'll be back before you know it! I'm counting on you! Buh-bye!"

Enno burst out laughing. “Don’t worry Lana, I got you! I’ll scold him!” Warrior was practially draggin Enno away before Lana could put more pieces together. They finally got to the lounge and rushed inside. 

Cia was already inside.

“Oh, well that was faster then I thought.”  Enno instantly hid their marked hand.

She seems calm. “I need to speak to Link.”

“You realize we’re leaving soon, right?” Pinky raised an eyebrow, not seeing Warrior or Enno in the doorway. A few of the others were already there but they were still missing Legend and Hyrule.

"It‘s because you are leaving at any moment that I wish to speak to him now." Cia crossed her arms. "I had not the chance for two days now. So, my apologies for the inconvenience."

"You didn't seem to care about that before." Wild mutters and Cia turns to him, spotting Pinky.

She stared at her for a moment and the poor girl tried to both meet her head on and also avoid conflict by looking away.

She clears her throat. "...Can I help you?"

Cia raises an eyebrow. "You can."

"Don't even think about it!" Wild growls.

Warrior adjusts his scarf around his neck and he clears his throat. He goes to speak with a blush on his face but his attention is snapped to the side by Cia speaking.

He pushed Enno to the wall and put himself in front of them. "I can't say I'm surprised. But I'm not happy about this."

Sky and Twilight both noticed them turn back in the corner and stood silent. Twilight was trying to focus if he can hear a plan from Warrior’s side of things.

Time let’s out a low, ferocious growl as a warning. He doesn’t want to have another fight breaking out. “Cia, be careful about what you do or say.”

"Cool." Pinky gulps, keeping a hand on Wilds shoulder.

Cia continues to stare at her and she stares right back.

"Well?" Cia bites.

"Well what? You didn't say anything else." Pinky frowns.

"I need you to come with me. Obviously." Cia looks over at Time. "Please."

“What do we do now?” Enno hissed, moving away from the doorway. “Don’t say you are going to do something alone that’s not gonna happen.”

Warrior cursed and left common viewing area. "I don't know if we can do something. Best case scenario, we wait for Lana to try something. Or we wait and hope we shift so she can be left behind. If there's a portal that opens we have an issue for real."

“No, you tried to kill her last time you were near her.” Time glared back at her, gaining the attention of the two by the door. “What ever you can say can be in-front of us.”

He also holds the sleeping Mask near him.

“That’s- Link- something is probably going to happen.“ Enno paused, turning away from the unfolding chaos. “Ok, look, Lana isn’t going to know to come straight here. Go get her since you’re faster then me. She probably didn’t get far from where we left her.” They looked back to the room. “I’ll try to keep things stalled for a bit. Keep things interesting. The boys are there. I’ll be fine if she does something.”

Cia huffs and looks at Time again. This time she notices Mask. "Nevermind then. This isn't worth my time. But the boy stays here."

"Over my dead body!" Pinky growled. "You have no right!"

"You are not even from here, miss street rat." Cia rolls her eyes and sticks up her nose. "I'm amazed you've survived this long as it is. I brought the boy here and I must put him back."

Pinky hesitated. The group doesn't know what to do next. She stepped out from behind Wild. "No."

"I don't like it." Warrior huffs, knowing that it was heading south and fast. "But you're right."

He leaned over to kiss them. "Don't do anything too stupid?"

He tilted his head with a small smile and dashed off to go get reinforcements.

"I'm not leaving my child self with you, ether." Time backs Pinky up. "You brought him into this The timeline has already changed. Having him here isn't going to break anything."

Enno strolled in casually. "Mask is freaking adorable despite what he is capable of." They “noticed” Cia and smiled. "Hey girl, what's up?"

They went to sit on the arm of the couch where Wind and Sky were. "You look better." Lifting their knee up onto the arm, they hug it. "I would have thought that you had to rest a bit more. So I'm a bit shocked" 

Finger guns.

Cia's nose flared and her gaze turns rageful.

Pinky stepped in her way, much to Wild's clear disproval. "Bri-"

"We have to leave. Whatever you need to say, make it quick." The pink girl said with gritted teeth.

Cia reaches out and grabs her shirt, tugging her closer. "Listen here, you would have had a decent life with Lord Neiflem. If you could have stopped from freezing-"

Mask woke up.

Pinky spat in her face.

"DON'T TOUCH HER!” Time had to catch Mask mid air. The mini dragon began squirming around. "I SWEAR I KICKED YOUR ASS BEFORE. I'LL DO IT AGAIN."

Enno put their hands on Pink’s shoulders, leaning forward. "This is how I've been dealing with her. Don't worry." They whispered giving her a pat and jumped up, getting between the two of them. Enno took Cia's hand off of Pinky by force. "Let's all calm down now."

"Neiflem didn't even care if she was dead or alive. You know nothing." Time growled still having to handle a raging small dragon. 

"Time-" Enno gestured to him like 'BOI', giving him the stick eye.

"She would have been fine if she didn't give up on finding a heat source or better yet, using her mark to summon him back." Cia spits.

Pinky clenched her jaw but stood silent. She moved back from Enno, just in case.

Cia looked back and ripped her hand away. "You both have done enough damage. You are no longer welcome within Hyrule."

"Us?" Pinky screeched.

Cia slams her staff onto the ground and a circle lights up beneath us.

Enno was quick to grab Cia by her upper arm and drag her into the circle as well, "We both know how this ends! It's always the same song and dance! Why do you keep doing this knowing he will hate you more?" They didn't care about the circle or any of the magic at this moment. "You don't always get the person you think you deserve, Cia! Why can't you accept that!"

Mask escaped Time’s grip and dashed to Pinky, trying to knock her out of the lit up circle.

Mask all but crashed into Pinky and sent them both stumbling outside the circle’s circumference. 

"So be it." Cia hisses.

"Wait, Enno, you don't know if it's the right place!" Pinky tried to reach out to them to pull them back, needing to fight Mask to let her go.

Cia lifts up her staff to finish the spell right as Warrior came back in to kick her to the side. He's in his half form, his wing partly torn once more.

Warrior turned to Enno, panting. "What did I say?"

He takes their arms and gently tugs them out of the circle. Its still activated.

Warrior looks over them tenderly before he turned to Cia, glaring at her.

Lana came in running a moment later. "Oh my goodness! By the three- what happened?!"

Twilight was at Pinky’s side with Time and Wild. "Are you ok?" Twilight asked, looking them both over. He tried to seprate the young/old dragon off of her.

"No!" Mask only burrows further into Pinky, holding on like his life depended on it.

"I'm alive." Enno leaned on Warrior. " Also to be fair, she started it. All I did this time was say 'hey girl'." They noticed his wing. "Wait, sht- your wing!"

Hyrule and Legend walked into the mess "What the fck happened." Legend muttered under his breath as Hyrule was quick call up his life spell.

Warrior coughed. "I had to be fast."

Hyrule hisseed and got to work. It didn’t even look fully healed from the previous attack. "What on earth did we miss?"

Legend hovers around nervously. He kept looking at where Sky, Four and Lana were trying to form a wall between Cia and the group.

Cia still looked calm despite being kicked by her Precious.

Warrior has been growling lowly, staring Cia down. He let Hyrule work and he knew that Enno was close but he's too angry to hold back his more volatile tendencies. 

Cia for her part, was not acknowledging the others in front of her, nor did she even look at Lana.

No one noticed the staff, which has been discarded to the side once she went flying.

Enno looked back at her. They knew they could make it worse. The temptation was strong. Not having her pull a full on tantrum was weird. 

"So what now?" They asked her calmly, not getting up from their spot. Legend gave them the side eye but didn't stop them from talking. "You know what I said before was something you said during the war. Why are you struggling so hard to accept it?"

They weren't going to call Lana out on her crush. That would be mean.

Cia continued to stare before they noticed that her eyes sharpened. Now she's looking at them.

She snaps and the staff fires from its position on the ground.

It's directed at Pinky and Mask. It hits the couch and a portal opens. Pinky couldn't hold onto anything fast enough. She fell backwards, reaching for Time-

They both fell through and half of the couch falls with them.

The portal closes.

[crackrodent]

Husk is scared of being on boats

Husk is afraid of boats

Angel Dust was not an idiot. He knew cats were afraid of water. I mean every cat he’d ever seen was. But Angel was a spider demon and didn’t go around making webs and catching bugs. Hell, he was even tied up in a moth’s nest almost eighteen hours a day recently. He really did just want to take Husk out on a date. They hadn’t had a moment alone since they almost kissed after rebuilding the hotel. Angel of course fucked it up by making a joke about Sir Pentious dying. He was always running away from everything good that came to him.

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

Anthony did like boats though. He had his own when he was alive, and she was beautiful. He used to joke that it was the only woman he would ever love. His parents thought it was hilarious and stupid teenage boy shit but his “friend” from school knew exactly what he meant. Oh, his boat was a sight for sore eyes. She was a dark almost black wooden color and her oars were the smoothest as they glided through the water. He had but cushioning on the bench in the boat. There was only one bench as he needed space for cargo his father told him. He was only fourteen when his father told him that and he took it genuinely. He found out a few years later that he needed space for the rats and troublemakers.

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

“How much fucking longer are we gonna be out here Angel!” Husk hissed. Pissed off at the sinner who wanted to provide a nice fucking date.

“Until you tell me what's your fucking deal with boats, Whiskers.” Angel challenged, hoping that in a few more minutes he would settle down.

“I AIN’T TELLING YOU SHIT!” Husk yelled. Apparently really pissed off at this whole thing.

Husk went back to huffing and puffing quietly and Angel returned to his boat. This one in hell sucked. It was fake wood. Like the stuff they used at his work. Easier to clean he assumed but he didn't know jack shit about cleaning floors.

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

He knew about cleaning boats though.

He didn't have to do it a lot. Sometimes his father would just tell him he had cargo for Poseidon and Angel knew what to do. Sometimes it would be a duffle bag of evidence or worse. If they were already dead then Anthony ready hadn’t done anything wrong. Self-preservation and all that. He was just glad their faces were always covered so he didn't have to see them. He had blocked most of it out.

He remembered the evidence though.

One time he tried to lift the bag and it was so fucking heavy that he just had to take a peak. It was his sister’s doll collection. Had to be twenty of the fuckers. Ever since she passed their mother spent most the day brushing their hair, cooing to them, calling each and everyone of them by their name. He knew all their names too. Anthony started pulling all of them out. And looking at them one last time knowing that he can’t take them back. His dad could handle them for his mother’s sake but since Ma passed- the dolls had to go. There was one doll though. Angel loved her too. I mean he had saved up for two years to get Molly the doll.

He saw it in a magazine. Her name was Beatrice. She had a blue dress so long it almost covered her little black shoes. Molly owed the same shoes. Anthony found her halfway down the bag. He stuffed the rest back in and tossed it overboard.

He stood there. Having broke his father’s trust for the first time in his short life. He was just a man of twenty-three. He couldn’t live forever without this piece of his sister. The memory of his mother. The reminder of his hard work earning the money for the first Christmas gift he ever bought instead of made. He was only ten that Christmas but that was the year his father gave him his first pocket knife. Said he had proved he was growing into a fine young man and would be a great father and husband one day.

Was a long talk about providing for a wife and joining the family business eventually. He liked the time. His dad was often too busy guiding his elder brother about his current involvement in business to give young Anthony much time.

Beatrice reminded him of that talk. Anthony laughed thinking back. A husband he could consider but a wife was out of the question. He was just going to be a bachelor as long as the family let him. He figured he could hide the doll in the bench. There was a small storage box. It was great for hiding up to six blocks of coke but he had one thing to protect more than that. The last good thing about this family was safe.

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

“If I fucking tell you will you let me go?” Husk snapped Angel back to reality. They were already coming up on the end of the route so he figured he would let Husk have this.

“Sure Whiskers. Spill your secrets.” Angel teased.

“It was a couple of years before I died.” He let out a shudder. “I should have stopped with the gambling and shit a lot younger but I was still able so I was still going.”

“Oh yeah? The engine worked well huh?” Angel interjected.

Husk ignored him.

“I was working with some people from Jersey. I was in Jersey well sort of. It’s where I was staying but you know how small the states are up there. I had business in New York too. They had this shitty yellow boat. The paint was chipping but it had so many layers of paint you couldn’t see the original wood at all.”

“Yeah Jersey ain’t far from my old stomping grounds at all,” Angel said and was ignored again.

“We went out on the water because well we had another boat meeting us out there. But theirs was very dark brown or gray so it was hard to see it.”

Angel felt his breath catch. He was certain he was wrong but what if-

“The bench I was on was wobbly. The one the brothers I was out with sat on was fine. The other boat approached. We could see the bags on their laps. We were trading off cash for jewelry. It was legal. Well, our jewelry was. Their money wasn’t. It was an unnecessary risk but the choice was out of my hands.” Husk looked down, “Well our boats were side by side and they tossed the money over but the jewelry was too heavy and I stood to make sure I could toss it over. I was older than every one of those guys. hell twice the age of half of them.”

“You stood on the boat!” Angel gasped.

“Yes,” He responded.

“Did you die?”

“Angel I already fucking told you this was a couple of years before I died.”

“Oh right.”

“Well the bag made it to their boat but I went overboard.” Husk looked down, “They got me back on the boat and I was freezing. They made me sit on the floor of the boat so I could be curled up a bit. Stay warmer.”

Angel felt bad for teasing him. This sounded like it bothered him a lot.

“That’s not the part that made me swear off boats though,” Husk said.

The suspense was gonna leave Angel double dead.

“From the spot where I sat, I saw two little latches. So well hidden if you didn’t know they were already there I doubt anyone would find them.”

“Standard back in my time Whiskers, New York knows their stuff.”

“Well I was cold and I thought maybe there could be a blanket in there so I opened it and inside was a crazy-haired witch of a doll. covered in years of cobwebs. I freaked out. I mean fuck I fell overboard again. Tipped the whole boat.” Husk put his face in his hands. “I didn’t notice right away. not until the brothers started laughing. We were only three feet deep at that point so there was. A man as old as dirt sitting in water and crying like a little kid.”

Angel was glad they had hit land or he would have tipped the boat laughing. He almost fucking called it.

“Was the doll wearing a blue dress? With little black shoes?”

“How did you-”

Angel’s laughter could wake up all of hell and it would be worth it.

“Husk you are not gonna believe this!”

[sasha199]

Gale/ Wyll drama pt. 5

Y’all…this game hits different when your Tav is a stand in for yourself.

My sister and I are playing a multiplayer as ourselves, as sisters. I was romancing/flirting with both Gale and Wyll. I made a move on Lae’zel too but THAT ended in tears. Sister is pulling both Astarion and Shadowheart.

(I’m Sasha, sister is Marlie.)

"Are your lips swollen?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me, what have you been doing?"

I look around, there's no one nearby but I lower my voice anyway, "Making out with Gale."

"WHAT? With Gale!?"

"Shhhhhhh!" 

Marlie looks genuinely shocked, but she does lower her voice, "I thought you and daddy’s boy were a thing now?"

"Well, we were...for a moment. But then Gale KISSED me. Like really kissed me, put his whole groin into it kissed me, and I've changed my mind."

"Ew. That's all it takes for you to switch sides?"

I roll my eyes at my sister, "Don't you judge me Miss Been-Getting-Laid-This-Whole-Time. Some of us have been on the struggle bus for a minute. Plus, it's not just about sex."

"Really, what's it about then?"

"Nothing, forget it." I'm already over this whole conversation and it's not making anything I know I need to do easier. Wyll had called me his sun just a couple hours ago and I was going to have to break his heart. 

"Calm down then, I know what it's about. Just cuz you can't say it. I know you're in LOVE with the magic man."

"Stop it."

"Well, you are. Aren't you?"

I say nothing. 

I've been thinking it for so long, but I have been so determined to never let those words cross my lips when it comes to Gale. I feel kind of frozen. I'm still a bit blindsided by the kiss, the intensity of it. When I remember the way Gale's hands felt on my body, they way our mouths moved in sync...I feel heat gathering in...places. 

"Incoming." Marlie whispers suddenly.

"Well met."

I snap my head around, "Oh, hey Wyll. Marlie and I were just-" but she's gone. I sigh, rouge shit. 

"If she was here I believe you, that's just her way. Have you given further thought to our plan of attack for Moonrise? If my father is there, he'll be held in the lower dungeons, perhaps away from the Tiefling prisoners. Did Minthara giver her consent to stay in camp?"

"Wha- Minthara? Oh, I haven't asked her yet. Regardless we'll probably go back to Last Light first. Re-stock and all that, um and Marlie wants to bring Astarion for some mysterious reason." I knew why she wanted to bring him, but it wasn't my place to tell anyone about his scars or the person who could potentially decode them for us. 

Wyll let out a chuckle, "Rouges. Those two are enigmas to me, but they do seem to make each other happy."

"Yeah." They're relationship was complicated, it had taken me a while to warm up to Astarion, but a recent conversation about his siblings, and the realities of what they must be facing with him missing had done a lot in regards to my empathy for him. "Anyway, I think I'm going to take Minthara to Last Light, she needs to get properly geared up but I can come back for you before we head to Moonrise."

"Very well." He takes my hand in his, he squeezes it tenderly, "Whatever you think is best."

"We'll get your father back."

"We will." He smiles at me and leans in to kiss my cheek. I let him and squeeze his hand back before he walks away from me. 

"I am literally the worst person, ever." I mutter to myself. 

Minthara is meditating at her tent as I approach. It was my decision to leave her alive at the goblin camp, and likewise I helmed the rescue mission for her. I wasn't the smoothest talker but Marlie definitely did not trust the drow woman, which I understood, so she left the responsibility of Minthara to me. It had never felt right leaving her in the Absolute's clutches, even though I knew that if roles were reversed Minthara wouldn't waste time or resources to rescue us. But she'd thanked me for saving her and seemed determined to do her part to win against Ketheric Thorm, which was enough for me.  She opens her eyes as I approach, they're bright red, almost the same color as Astarion's. "You wish to consult me?" she says matter of factly. 

"Yeah, Minthara hey. We're going to Last Light to get some gear. You need a sword and armor and stuff."

She quirks a white eyebrow at me, " 'And stuff,' by that I hope you mean a useful weapon to bring down the Cult of the Absolute."

"I do."

"Very well then."

I hesitate before turning away, "Hey, you have pretty good insight right? Can I ask you about your thoughts on our companions?" 

She considers for a moment, "A disparate collection of vagabonds and strays." Her tone is direct and no-nonsense. "Anyone particular in mind?" 

"Um...have you spent much time with, uh, Gale?" Wow her gaze is intense, maybe it's the red eyes or that unyeilding stare but I'm having a hard time maintaining prolonged direct eye contact with her. 

"The wizard? No."

There's a silence that stretches after. 

"Don't you like wizards?" Why does my voice sound so small and high pitched?

"They're mastery of the Weave is commendable, but they are awful conversationalists."

"Really? Spoken with a lot of wizards, have you."

"No."

More silence, then I think she picks up the hint that I'm expecting her to elaborate so she continues, "In my experience, they do not usually live long enough to make the effort of befriending them worth-while."

I close my mouth, how long has it been open?

"Either the enemy recognizes they are a threat, and kills them swiftly, or their curiosity leads them to combust while experimenting with the limits of magic." 

I begin to say something, think better of it and shrug. Where's the lie?

"Our wizard is already in a state of suspended combustion thanks to that orb between his ribs."

I raise my eyes to the sky, to the shadows that hover there blocking out the sun. 

Fuck that fucking orb. Fuck Mystra, and Elminster, and Gale. Sweet, depressing, romantic Gale. Who's kisses make my toes curl, who's smile melts my heart, who begged me so sweetly to choose him.  

I look back to Minthara, there's a small look of concern around her eyes. "You're more right than you know." I say.

"I suspect it's only a matter of time before he goes up in smoke."

I sigh. "Not while I'm around." I'm impressed at how confident I sound. 

"In any case," she adds "I will reserve my social graces for those who might live long enough to appreciate them."

"Like me." I give her a sarcastic smile. 

"That remains to be seen," she slings what gear she has over her shoulder, "but I owe you my life and my freedom. Without you I would still be a slave to the Absolute. I know your sister had no such qualms about leaving me to my fate."

"Yeah, she thinks I'm too nice." I walk with her towards the camp exit.

"I would have called it weakness, or written you off as pathetic."

"Minthara..."

"But as I said I am here because of you, so much remains to be seen."

I look at her out of the corner of my eye as we make our way to Last Light, I like this woman. People could say what they wanted about how soft I was, but sometimes I was right. 

Marlie and Astarion rise up from the shadows and fall to either side of us. 

Rouge shit. 

[the-fluff-piece]

Tropetember day 10

Zosan drunk confession

After discovering their mutual attraction, their blossoming romance was cut short by the events of the timeskip

But they didn't forget each other, they just need a nudge in the right direction

This is part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Zoro

He knew that they would meet again. After two years, the strawhats where reunited and celebrated together.

Neither Zoro nor Sanji have openly acknowledged what happened on Thriller Bark. It was almost as if it didn't happen.

The cook was swooning over the girls like always. While Zoro drank by himself. Like always.

For two years, Zoro had trained to become stronger, to lift a bit of the burden off Sanji's shoulders. To keep all of them alive.

When he woke up in Mihawk's Castle, Zoro desperately craved for the cooks food. For another secret embrace. No day would go by where Zoro wouldn't think about him, build scenarios in his head where he might have landed. And imagined how they would meet again.

Yet, sanji didn't let on anything. For all Zoro cared, he could pamper the girls all night long. But being so blatantly ignored hurt. For every time Sanjis eyes wandered past him, he drank.

Sanji

After two years in hell, he was finally back where he belonged, with his crew, the ladies. And Zoro. Not that he missed him. He missed the fighting. Missed a real man....

During lonely nights and stressful days on that wretched island, he often wished that Zoro would come and help him defeat ivankov and his subjects and save him.

But he couldn't admit that there was more to it. The whole picture of his manhood rested on his devotion to ladies, and his feeling put all of it into question.

He couldn't look at the swordsman right now. He had gotten broader, taller. More handsome. It was too much.

He went outside for a quick smoke, it was already late. As he stared up at the night sky, he heard someone approach. Uneven, loud footsteps.

"Marimo, drunk already?" He turned around - and was slammed against the wall with force. Enough to make him really feel it, but not so much that it hurt.

Zoro's hand was flat on his chest and held him in place.

"What's up with you?" He spit the cigarette bud on the floor, ready for one of his fights with Zoro.

"Finally looking at me?" Zoro said, his speech slurred, "I could almost think...that you're not happy to see me." He focused on Sanji with his good eye.

"As happy as I can be, seeing you" Sanji said. It meant all and nothing at the same time.

"Well I am....I am really glad that you made it back. Didn't forget what you did for me on Thriller Bark. And after." The pressure subsided and he let his hand fall to his side.

"Marimo, you're drunk. Go to bed." Sanji could smell the Sake on Zoro's breath and turned to leave.

Zoro's hand shot up in front of him and slammed into the wall, barring his escape. Now he was angry. He turned to Zoro, ready to kick, when he was taken off guard. He expected to be slammed into the wall, to be thrown around, hit by a sword hilt in the face.

Anything but Zoro's face coming nearer, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was a drunk kiss, rough-lipped, surprising and messy. Desperate.

He couldn't help but return it in kind, holding on to Zoro's arm that had stopped him before.

"I knew it" Zoro broke the kiss to whisper, "you missed me, too. Had a long time to think about you. Us."

Sanji was at a total loss for words, his head empty.

"If you're not talking..." Zoro grabbed his chin and devoured his mouth once more. The only answer Sanji had to give was to draw the swordsman's body closer. Zoro understood perfectly.

"I want you, too" He answered unspoken words between kisses. "I need you, too."

Sanji turned his head away, panting. He couldn't let Zoro take all the credit, do everything.

He may not be the smoothest gentleman right now, but he also wasn't with a lady. No rules he had ever obsessed about applied here. He didn't need sweet words, didn't even need to be gentle. He grabbed Zoro's coat and yanked him around, taking charge.

"I l..like you, too" the words came stuttered and insecurely, but the important thing was that he said them. He looked into Zoro's smiling face and knew - nothing would be as before.

_________

So full transparency: I am not really sure about it and of course I started far to late and have no expence in writing the couple.

Let's just see it as my personal practice for more ZoSan in the future.

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 28th

MY GOOD FRIEND JONATHAN IS ALIVE I REPEAT MY GOOD FRIEND JONATHAN IS ALIVE

There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being able to send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle, and are encamped in the courtyard. These Szgany are gipsies; I have notes of them in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world, though allied to the ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are thousands of them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are almost outside all law. They attach themselves as a rule to some great noble or boyar, and call themselves by his name. They are fearless and without religion, save superstition, and they talk only their own varieties of the Romany tongue.

Buddy, you are being very judgemental for someone who desperately needs their help to survive.

I have written the letters. Mina's is in shorthand, and I simply ask Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained my situation, but without the horrors which I may only surmise. It would shock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to her.

Somehow I have a feeling Mina will hear and see much worse soon.

The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his smoothest voice as he opened two letters:—

"The Szgany has given me these, of which, though I know not whence they come, I shall, of course, take care. See!"—he must have looked at it—"one is from you, and to my friend Peter Hawkins; the other"—here he caught sight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly—"the other is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! It is not signed. Well! so it cannot matter to us." And he calmly held letter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed. Then he went on:—

"The letter to Hawkins—that I shall, of course, send on, since it is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your pardon, my friend, that unknowingly I did break the seal. Will you not cover it again?" He held out the letter to me, and with a courteous bow handed me a clean envelope. I could only redirect it and hand it to him in silence. When he went out of the room I could hear the key turn softly. A minute later I went over and tried it, and the door was locked.

We are surely in the toils.

"So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There is the surest rest. I may not have the pleasure to talk to-night, since there are many labours to me; but you will sleep, I pray." I passed to my room and went to bed, and, strange to say, slept without dreaming. Despair has its own calms.

He is punishing Jonathan by disrupting his sleep and refusing him his company — the only one he can get! This man should teach Abusive Behaviour 101!!!

I guess we could interpret the Szgany’s betrayal as a racist stereotype or as a similar situation to what happened in the coach: people genuinely trying to help, but forced to surrender to some greater power. Hell, Dracula may even have drunk that poor guy’s blood offscreen for all we know!

< Prev 🦇 Next >

[noaltbruh]

um, 🍭 and 🍰 for anasui and weather report? congrats on 200 follows btw ^^

One of them is among my favorites in part 6, I would gladly burn alive the other.

Guess who's who.

On a more serious note- Of course! And thanks for the request :)

~~~~~

🍭 How easy is it to fluster them?

When it comes to Anasui, it really won't take much to fluster him. This dude doesn't just love you, he's obsessed with you, which means that literally anything you might say to him will get him to turn all red and bashful.

To be honest, maybe you weren't even trying to flirt with him, he just interpreted your words in his own way and now he's all flustered even if it wasn't your intention in the first place.

It is pretty funny though, and also cute in a way. He'll probably go "awww stawwp" despite the fact that he'd dying to receive any sort of attention from you, especially this kind.

So if you're not very confident in your flirting skills, don't worry, you'll never have to worry about them not being good enough for him.

~~~~~~

Is...Is it even possible to fluster Weather?

To be completely honest with you, trying to affectionately tease him won't get much of a result most of the time. He doesn't really understand how flirting works, and is either confused or unfazed by most of your attempts.

Let's say, for examples, you were to compliment him more than usual. I can see him mostly just smiling and thanking you rather than blushing and such. He doesn't mean to be so detached, he can't help it. He thinks you're just being affectionate and nice, you are his partner, after all.

I could potentially see him getting flustered, but only on very specific and rare circumstances. When that does happen, Weather doesn't really...Understand what's going on? He just feels his cheeks getting warm and all of a sudden he's struggling to even look at you.

He'll probably try to go back to his usual composure as soon as he can, but he'll spend the rest of the day thinking about how... Interesting that felt.

🍰 How teasing are they? Do they often flirt with their S/O?

Anasui is a flirting bomb fr. Dude's teasing and complimenting you literally all the time you two are together, he's incapable of spending more than 3 minutes without praising or remarking something about you.

Now, quantity doesn't equal quality, and he's the living proof of that. With this man it's kind of a fifty fifty situation, he'll either come up with the smoothest compliment and flirting style humanity has ever witnessed, or the cringest pick up line ever that will probably make you burst out laughing.

When the latter happens, it's quite entertaining to watch, because your reaction will actually make him blush instead.

He's not afraid to get close either, and physical contact is actually one of his favorite ways of flirting with you, whether that'd be neck kisses or grabbing your waist.

~~~~

Weather IS good at flirting, but like, accidentally lol.

The thought of getting you bashful doesn't even cross his mind because, like I said, he doesn't understand nor know what it is or how it works.

I can see Anasui trying to give him some advice on how to flirt with you, but he wouldn't follow them because he doesn't trust his judgment in this sort of thing or at all

With that being said, this man will turn you red without even trying. He'll get very touchy and compliment you with no filters whatsoever. If he has something nice to say about you, he'll say it without thinking twice. Adding in to this, the calmness and and composure in his voice will make everything sound way smoother than he intended to be.

[midori-laboratories]

hiya! Now I’m not a big fan of wesker but @whateverthefuckyouwantiguess showed me this vampire wesker art that hasn’t exactly left my mind.

could I possibly request a smutty lil blurb with vampire wesker and an SO that found him during feeding?

pls and thank you 💕

...I think that can be arranged, although this turned into a full one-shot on me. I haven't done an xReader fic before, so this was fun! @lottathoughts, @whateverthefuckyouwantiguess

Pic for reference, by @klutzygutsi 

CW: Vampire Wesker (Dominant), Female reader, (Submissive), Sexual content, blood drinking, biting, alcohol. Discussions of disclosure, kink, and consent. PWP, minors DNI please.

The Tasting

When you pushed the propped-open door to the alley at the back of the bar, you’d begun to wonder whether coming out tonight was a mistake.

He’d taken you to a high-end bar, run by an associate of his. Wesker had ordered you a glass of the smoothest scotch you’d ever tasted, even though it wasn’t typically to your taste. He leaned against the bar, watching your throat work, watching you flush under the heat of the drink, and the weight of his eyes.

The two of you stayed like that at the bar for a few moments, before someone called Jack - he claimed to have worked with him, once - came up behind Wesker clapping him on the shoulder with a quick leer down at you. After a moment, you excused yourself, downing your drink and heading to the bathroom. Wesker had had a look in his eye when he mentioned coming here earlier, more so when he had asked you to wear a specific dress. You intended to be ready for anything.

Given how he’d taken off his sunglasses two weekends before, and explained his…condition…’anything’ had the potential to go to a place you weren’t sure you could handle.

You were curious enough to try.

When you came out of the bathroom, Wesker was nowhere to be seen, but the bartender jerked her chin toward the back. “He ducked out for a smoke.” She glanced over at Jack. “Your beau should be in the back alley, through the back room. There’s a door propped open by the stairs - if you want to avoid this one.”

You grimaced. There had been nothing subtle in that man’s expression. You quietly thanked the bartender and turned on your heel towards the dark hallway leading to the back room.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the low light. A sliver of light from the back alley shone through a crack in the door, just below a glowing EXIT sign.

You moved as quietly towards the door as you could when you hear a soft moan, just outside.

You hesitated. Would he…here?

Only one way to find out.

You pushed your hand flat against the door, easing it open to peer down the alley.

Wesker was ten feet away from the door.

As was the person who he’d put against the wall, fangs buried in their throat. Wesker had pinned them to the brick wall with his body, one knee planted between theirs.

You knew from personal experience that they wouldn’t be going anywhere.

A gloved hand had tipped their head back, lazily stroking their jaw with the thumb while holding them immobile. Not that they seemed inclined to flee. If anything, they seemed to melt deeper into the embrace with every lazy stroke.

You must have made a noise, or he must have heard your footsteps. Either way, he opened one crimson eye, and found you standing at the door. That gaze lingered on you. It held you there, as pinned as the person losing cohesion under his hand.

If the scotch had made you flush earlier, the hungry little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth threatened to burn you alive.

Silently, you stepped back into the building and fled back into the crowded bar.

----------

The bartender - a gorgeous woman whose name tag identified her as Ada - set another glass in front of you when you reached the bar. You’d returned there, fidgeting with the chain of the necklace he’d gifted you last month. You hadn’t been sure of what else to do, so you’d come back here to regroup. “Let’s get you another. Your date has a tab, and I have no problem charging a $200 bottle to it when he pulls this sort of shit. Fortify your nerves.” She paused. “They’re fine, by the way. Anyone stupid enough to leave bodies that can be traced to here usually isn’t long for this world.”

You eyed the glass, then sighed and took a long draught. Setting the glass down, you worried your lip between your teeth. “That’s good,” you said slowly. “I wasn’t expecting to see that.”

“No one really does. I wouldn’t blame you if you’d just written him off as a very dramatic goth.” Her lips curled in a playful smirk, with just a hint of cruelty.

You gave a sharp laugh at the comment, taken off-guard. “No, but I can see people thinking that. Oh, wow.” You took another sip, more relaxed now. “Ah, thank you. I think I needed that.”

A text came through on your phone. Are you alright?

You replied quickly. Yes. The bartender is talking shit about you. They’re very charming.

You sent the message, then hesitated and typed out another text. Are they? Alright?

Ada leaned over the bar. “That him?”

“Yes,” you said, distracted. Another message from him: They’ll be fine. I just put them into a taxi.

Come upstairs.

----------

Ada pointed you to the back room again, where the alley door and the stairs to the second floor were laid out side by side. The red glow of the EXIT sign held your eye for a long moment.

You’d known what he was - the two of you had had a long discussion about it not two weeks ago, and another about consent, and what your limits were. It had all been very civil after the initial shock, sober and mature. It wouldn’t do to let your endorphins make decisions for you that you’d regret later in (or worse, irrevocably without) the cold light of day.

And now, before you…you had a choice to make.

“To hell with it,” you muttered under your breath, and began to make your way up the stairs.

----------

An office space was located above the bar. The first door to your right at the top of the stairs was ajar, a soft light coming from inside. “In here,” Wesker’s voice came from inside.

Last chance to turn back, you thought to yourself. But no, that wasn’t quite true. There had been a very clear crossroads at the bottom of the stairs, and you’d chosen to keep moving forward.

You pushed through the door. A large leather couch took up one wall of the office, and a huge, old oak desk took up half the room on the other side, with an elegant-looking wingback chair behind it. Wesker was leaning against the front of the desk, illuminated by dim sconce lighting on the walls. “The owner lets me use the space up here,” he said. “Ada’s quite good at that sort of damage control.”

Wesker had taken off his sunglasses. The low light made the bioluminescent glow of his eyes stand out stark in the shadows. He held a hand out to you, pushing off from the desk to step forward. “Come here.”

You took a slow step forward. Goosebumps were rising on your bare arms. “I’m not sure what I expected, back when you told me,” you confessed.

He tipped your chin up with one of those long, leather-clad hands once you’d drifted far enough into his orbit. “People lie about what they can handle,” he said quietly. “Even to themselves. Especially to themselves. It’s better to see sooner, before the mind starts to rationalize away their concerns.”

“I know what sunk cost is,” you replied, just a little tartly. He had a point. It didn’t mean you liked the feeling of being corraled. “So that’s why I didn’t get a warning, I suppose.”

“I’m sure Ada managed to find a way to apply a surcharge for doing it here.” You couldn’t help but smile a little at that, as his other hand moved to the curve of your waist. “You would have seen it sooner or later. We’ve been seeing eachother long enough that it was only a matter of time.”

He was watching you closely, gauging your reactions. You let your eyes wander down from that intense gaze. There was a few small drops of blood still on the corner of his mouth. You reached up without thinking - then hesitated, looking back to meet Wesker’s eyes. He tilted his head, almost smiling at you (he’d been so hard to read when you’d met, but you were getting better at interpreting the fine shifts in his body language) while he took your wrist in one hand. You felt your breath catch as he pressed cool lips to your palm, slowly trailing down to the pulse point at your wrist.

That subtle pressure at your waist grew firm as he used the loose embrace to switch your positions like a dancer, guiding you to take a step back. You felt the hard edge of the desk hit the back of your thighs. That little thrill of anticipation you felt with you stepped into this room began to unfurl into something languid, and hungry.

A soft little sound escaped you as Wesker crowded in on you, guiding you to push yourself onto the desktop. He pressed a leg forward between your knees.

He had done the same to that person out in the alley.

Those hands were trailing up your sides. Cool fingertips glided down your thighs to squeeze your knee, a knuckle dragged up your arm towards your neck. You could feel yourself relaxing into that cool, silky touch, leaning into it, already beginning to fall into that trance-like state he’d discovered when the two of you first began to fall in together only a few months ago.

One of those hands gently hooked your necklace, pulling you forward as he brought his mouth down to yours. The angle forced you to arc your body to meet him, so that he was practically on top of you despite the light, teasing contact.

The kiss was soft at first, brushing your lips lightly. You let your lips part, and he hummed approval. His mouth grew firmer, more insistent against yours. Wesker’s hands moved to pull your hips flush against his. You ground your own hips against his in response with a needy whine. He chuckled at the sound, hands tightening to keep you still while he devoured you.

You barely noticed when Wesker took the tie of your wrap dress in hand, pulling it loose in one deft motion. You opened your eyes at the sensation of cool air hitting your skin. He had asked you to wear this dress out tonight. “You planned this,” you said, in a voice trying to be sharp, but could only manage to sound mildly indignant.

Wesker hummed assent against your jaw. He began to move down your exposed body, sucking gently and nipping at your skin. His fangs scraped, but never broke the skin in a way that would have ignited you, had you not already been halfway there. His fingers brushed over the garters you’d chosen to wear. You’d chosen to skip the underwear. “I’d almost say you were expecting this tonight. A tasting, if you will.”

Your hands went back to brace yourself on the desk. “Some of it- ah!” That silver tongue of his had found another use, finding your core. He licked the length of your sex before that mouth fastened on your clit. One of those long fingers pushed inside you, joined by another. He paused, looked up at you, gauging, before straightening his back with a knowing smirk. You bit your lip- you’d put in your diaphragm during your trip to the bathroom earlier, and Wesker had just clearly just found that for himself. He moved back to press himself against you, All you could do in this state was cling to him, panting lightly.

Wesker touched your neck, that feather-light touch again with the back of his knuckles. “Might I? Or are you still…frightened?”

He knew you too well, to drop a gauntlet like that. Your heart sped up. “Go easy, but…alright.” Wesker smiled at your resolve, placing a gentle kiss on your brow. He moved back to your mouth, alternating between gentle and demanding until you felt dizzy. All the while, those fingers moved slowly inside you, pumping, occasionally curling and taking you apart, inch by delicious inch.

You’d become a mewling mess under that hand, making a soft sound of protest when he pulled his fingers out of you. Slowly, under your fuck-struck gaze, he ran his tongue over them, lapping up your slick fluids like the smuggest cat on the planet.

He was also taking his sweet fucking time with it.

You dearly wanted to call him an asshole in that moment. What you actually said was, “you’re overdressed,” in a slightly accusatory tone while shrugging your way out of the dress. Wesker smirked down at you. He reached down to unbuckle his belt. Pulling it loose, he considered it for a moment. “Maybe next time,” he promised, setting it on the desk beside you. The shirt came next, and your hands greedily moved over his exposed chest and shoulders as soon as it was gone. Wesker grasped you gently by the back of your head and kissed you again while his other hand traveled downward to open his slacks.

Distracted as you were, your eyes flew open as his cock breached you. The hand behind your head tightened in your hair, and you keened from the combined sensations while he sank into you.

Wesker broke the kiss to look down on you. Those burning eyes of his seemed to take on a near-demonic glow. “My, my,” he teased. “It seems you are ready.” He looped one arm under your knee and anchored his hand on your hip, shifting the angle to drag across that one nerve-packed little spot inside you. You gasped and shuddered at the slow onslaught, and he chuckled in your ear. “Good girl.” He murmured. You shivered at the rumble of his voice, at his breath in your ear. You wouldn’t last long at this rate. Already, you could feel that pressure inside yourself building, and fast.

His hand pulled at your hair again to remind you of its presence, and you moaned. “So responsive. If this is how you react now, I can just imagine how you’d come apart with a collar. Would you like to try one later, darling?” All the while, he’d started rolling his hips with slow acceleration, building friction and driving you slowly out of your mind.

In response, you contracted around him, almost wailing now. Your nails dug into his shoulders the picture he was painting in your mind's eye. You felt him smirk against your ear, even as he hissed at your reaction. It wasn’t fair that Wesker could sound this calm, while you were coming apart at the seams. He only barely seemed to be winded. “Next time, then,” he said. “II see we’re past the point of speaking.”

His thrusts came faster now, deep, with purpose. “I am glad we were able to have our little discussion about pain, earlier. Come.” That last word was spoken in command. Already approaching the edge, you felt the first cresting wave of your orgasm hit you, just as sharp fangs bit into your throat.

You came to little by little, lying on your side in that dark room. Gentle pressure from a hand moved up and down your side, and a glass of water had been set on a small side table not far away.

“There you are,” Wesker’s voice came from somewhere above you. You shifted to your back, looking up from where your head was pillowed on his lap. He’d carried you over to the leather couch after you had passed out, you realized.

“How long was I out?” You asked, voice rasping. He eased you up into a sitting position, still curled into his side, and handed you the glass of water. He had draped your dress over your naked body to keep you from getting cold. To your question, he said, “a few minutes. No more than that. This first time is sometimes a bit of a shock to the system- endorphins and blood pressure dropping can trigger fainting- but the recovery is always quick.”

You took a sip. “So…that’s normal?” It had felt amazing, but it was probably something to spark concern.

Wesker put a hand on your cheek, guiding you to look at him. His shirt was still off, and a fine patter of blood droplets was arrayed upon his chest, and just under his mouth. His eyes had gone back to the dull glow that he had when feeling relaxed and sated���which he had been, from you. “Normal isn’t the word I’d use, but not unusual. Take a few moments to rest, darling. You were wonderful…and later, we can discuss trying a few things, if I haven’t scared you off.”

You met his gaze and considered. You’d never felt in danger with him, in…this. Right now, you felt safe, and cared for.

You could stand to explore a little further.

“You haven’t scared me off,” you said slowly, “But next time I absolutely want to know what’s going to happen.”

Wesker’s mouth stretched into a slow smoldering smile. “I think that could be arranged.”

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Guaxinim the smoothest man alive literally sliding into bed next to Pac I'm crying, he's so funny

[sloelimbs]

Babe I'm gonna give you total creative freedom bc I trust you completely, BUT if you want a prompt, let's go with 'pineapple.'

since i'm down to my last two requests (i know it's taking me forever, i'm sorry, i have medical shit going down) i'm just going to pop in here that my askbox is open and i take requests! now, the story:

The line comes to him with the same kind of flash of inspiration as a riff, or a brilliant lyric, several years into his employment at the Hideout. He still plays on Tuesdays, because he and the guys could never give up on the double Cs, but more or less every other night of the week he’s in there serving drinks and cleaning glasses. It’s not without resentment that Eddie acknowledges he’s met more girls with a cocktail shaker in his hand (because Fridays are ladies nights, so cocktails are on the menu) than with his guitar.

Of course, that was before Chrissy Cunningham started working with him. Okay, so she doesn’t exactly work with him but she’s in the goddamn bar, ain’t she? It doesn’t matter that she’s also, you know, on the bar. He wouldn’t let anyone actually touch her (and nor would the other girls, for that matter) but God what do they do to the cheerleaders in this town to make them so consistently hot? It’s clearly not the uniform (he’d been worried about that), so what? The natural rhythm she has, moving so that her skin lights up like she’s covered in scales, hipbones glowing beneath low riding shorts, and how (even covered in sweat with her hair dark and curling from it) beautifully alive she is with the music replacing the blood in her veins? He knows she feels that too. Music is a living thing that takes a person over; this he knows because he makes it. Eddie suspects Chrissy was born with it.

Anyway, the line he comes up with smacks him clear between the eyes - a chord progression, a bridge appearing from nowhere - just as the last stragglers are being shooed out of the door and Chrissy is drying her hair perched on a table. It’s beyond fucking genius, he just knows it. He’s about to pick her up with the smoothest shit that’ll ever leave his mouth and he’s extra fucking cocky about swaggering up to her with a towel over his shoulder and his arms crossed over his chest. He’s always grateful that his work clothes are flattering but tonight he’s seriously considering thanking a God he doesn’t really believe in for his luck. She looks up at him quizzically, then smiles a smile so big that actually he thinks his smoothness might have a little pulp in it after all. Shit. Fuck. It’s too late, he’s already opening his mouth, and what falls out of it is;

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.” What that fuck was that, Munson, you enormous fucking clowncar of a man? Smooth his fucking foot oh God he’s going to run his own head over with his van. The fuck is he talking about? What is this nonsense?

Why can’t Chrissy be as easy to talk to as the bimbos that come in here with their bachelorette parties?

“Wow.” But she’s laughing! That’s a good sign! It’s not even polite laughter - it’s a hideous little giggle that he immediately wants to find again, grin immediate on his mouth, watching the gaps between her teeth. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Normally I’m much better than this.”

“You realise that makes you sound like a womanising jerk, right?” Chrissy crosses one long bare leg over the other and brushes the rhinestones hanging against her collarbone over her shoulder, raises her eyebrows and puckers her mouth at him. Sweet baby Jesus. That’s not true, not really, not from his perspective but if this is a game and this is how she wants the rules to be then he can do that. He sits at the table and folds his arms on the top.

“Maybe you should make an honest man of me, Cunningham. What time do you get off?”

“Same time as you, obviously.”

“I have some kush back at my trailer, if you felt like joining me.” The smile on her face grows, and her eyes flick from his own to his mouth, and it doesn’t matter that the pick up line ended up being the most embarrassing thing he could ever say because she leans down over him and slots her fingers along the bone of his jaw. Now he knows how all the heroines feel when the hero finally catches up with them. It’s a very strange place to be. Worth it, though. Oh God, so worth it, because she parts her lips against his and her tongue is coated in sugar and cinnamon from shots of cherry sours and Big Red bubblegum. When she pulls back, that tongue lingers for a second between his teeth and with a shiver he starts to laugh. He can’t help it. “It’s pineapple. The kush.”

“Wow. I can’t believe I’m going home with you and you’re this much of an idiot.”

“Chrissy, what can I say? I’m a talented guy.”

[thedeal-if]

What are the ROs love languages?

Ooh interesting!

Dante's preference is definitely words of affirmation. He loves praise! They're something he isn't used to, but words of affirmation mean the world to him. When it comes to liking someone Dante also goes out of his way to impress them and receive a little "You're doing great", which is enough to make him the happiest demon alive. In terms of giving, Dante isn't the smoothest talker (he's also kind of dense), so he prefers to give gifts instead. Dante adores spoiling anyone who might dare date him, showering them with gifts and trinkets he knows their beloved would like. Dante also happens to be quite creative! An artist maybe 🤔?? His greatest display of affection would be to consider his beloved a muse.

Lilith is physical touch (of course). Be it hugs, kisses, holding hands, or sex, they adore feeling their beloved near them. It wouldn't be a deal breaker to Lilith if their partner was touch averse, though they would be quite at a loss as to what to do. At least at first, Lilith is great at accommodating themselves to groups and individuals. Physical touch is what Lilith desires of a partner and what they give back. She would try her best to reel it in if it made her partner uncomfortable or if her partner wasn't into sex. Lilith does need to show those she cares about that she really, really cares, though, so she would shower their partner in words of affirmation instead.

Josh values quality time above anything. Everything is bonding time for him. Even riding the same elevator or taking out the trash together. Josh is somehow always busy, but if he truly cares about someone he would make as much time as he can to be with that person, even if it's just checking up on them to say hi. He also loves planning activities with his loved ones (regardless of whether they are carried out or not). Josh is kind of withdrawn from people, he's very shy and introverted, but he never hesitates to give his friends and partner words of affirmation.

Villanelle also has a preference for quality time. She enjoys hanging out with her loved ones and doing activities on a whim. Maybe you agreed to go out for coffee and now she's somehow convinced you that skydiving might be something fun to try. Villie loves it when people make time for her, it genuinely makes her happy, and it warms her heart. In terms of giving affection, it has to be quality time too, and giving gifts. Villie often acts on impulses, so her gifts are smaller and cheaper trinkets rather than big surprises meant to blow her partner's mind. If she's at the market and sees some food her partner might enjoy, she buys it and gives it to them.

Victor is attached to acts of service despite his best efforts to remain withdrawn from people. He's had to look out for himself for a long, long time, the life of a Hunter isn't easy, so when someone he likes just happens to do small things to lighten up his load... Victor is delightfully surprised, though he would have a hard time admitting it out loud. Even more surprisingly, Victor finds himself returning that affection through acts of service too. He'd also want to teach their loved one self-defense, and maybe how to wield a weapon. Despite his gruff and stern disposition, Victor would be beyond careful and soft toward his partner.

Aliyah, surprisingly, loves words of affirmation (something that she adamantly denies). She would be annoyed if the person she likes acts like a yes-man and constantly compliments her over the smallest things, though. The praise Aliyah wants has to be true, it has to be genuine and honest. She might have a huge god complex, but Aliyah isn't... the greatest fan of herself. To hear someone she actually likes, even if that someone is a human, say that she's doing great, that she's beautiful, that she's good, it feels amazing. Aliyah can hardly believe that human, but she's beyond pleased. Aliyah would rather die than show affection (affection in itself is a foreign concept to her) though she would be there for someone she likes. Quality time is how Aliyah shows she cares.

Nathan is a sucker for physical touch. He barely realizes how much he touches someone he likes (if they're comfortable with it, of course). Nathan likes to put his arm over his crush’s shoulder, lean against them, and hug them from behind. He silently appreciates touch too, whenever his crush holds hands with him, hugs or kisses him. Again, it wouldn't be such a big deal if their partner didn't like being touched, or if they weren't into sex. Nathan has no filter whatsoever, so he wouldn't hesitate to give words of affirmation whenever he liked someone. He does enjoy beating around the bush and teasing, which greatly frustrates Azriel.

Eden has been alone for the greater part of her life, so she greatly appreciates company. Even just sitting quietly with someone she likes brings her so much joy (though she's so serious you can barely tell). Eden barely understands the concept of affection, but she finds it more natural to take care of her crush through acts of service. She barely comprehends why she's even doing anything in the first place, as she's been taught that caring for people is dangerous and a waste of time, but concealing her care in small acts of service seems to make everything much easier.

I think I tend to ramble— a lot.

[angrenwen]

"

“How do you know, if they don’t come out?” The woman with the bow was frowning.

“Sometimes the people I guide find the bodies of those who came before,” I said calmly. “Sometimes not all of them reach the Stone Door. Those who survive know that there were others who did not. I will guide you, if you want my help.” The armed pair still looked dubious, but both peasants said ‘Yes’ quick and loud. When I looked closer, I saw that they were trembling with weariness. “Then come. You can rest, and eat, in my cave, before we begin.”

They sat by my fire, and ate the flesh of monsters and fruits that grow nowhere but here. Not everyone dared to eat what I offered, in this place, but those who did were the stronger and the swifter for it all their days. These had no choice, having no supplies with them, and when they had eaten they fell asleep, even the man who tried to sit watch.

The boy woke up first. The young recover quickly, and he had eaten well of my strengthening food. He found me awake, and came to sit beside me while I finished securing leather straps to a basket, so it could be carried on the back. “Is that for us? For supplies?”

“Yes. You’ll need it.” The baskets, and the skin bottles for water, are the only things I ever really need to replace. They tend to go through the Stone Gate with those I rescue, and I need to make new.

“Thank you.” The boy crouched beside me, and started running his fingers through the pebbles that floor this part of the cave. He picked out some of the smoothest stones, and held them up. “Can I take these? For the sling?”

“Yes.” It was good thinking, and I was impressed again. “It’s wise to go armed, here.”

He picked through the stones, filling a small pouch, while I finished the basket. Then he looked up at the wall, and pointed. “What’s that?”

“A sword.”

“It’s green. I never saw a green sword before.”

“It’s bronze.” I rose and took down the sword, handling it carefully. I haven’t touched it in… a long time. It was the first sword I ever held. “Bronze swords were what was used before iron, and iron before steel. Bronze turns blue or green when it gets old, not rusty.”

“It’s old, then.” He took it, when I handed it to him, examining it curiously. “I never saw one this shape. It’s like a willow leaf.”

“They all used to be like that.”

The boy looked at the sword, then up at me. “How long,” he asked slowly, “have you been here? You talk as if you know, as if you remember, but that must have been hundreds of years ago.”

How long have you been here? I’ve been asked that before, but not like this. As a challenge to my knowledge, yes, but… not with concern. Not by one who wanted to know, really know, the answer. Because he thought of me, and not himself, I gave him an honest answer. “I do not know how long it has been… but I can show you, if you like.”

“Yes, please.”

I led him to the back of the cave, where a narrow opening led into another, deeper cave. It was lit by glowing stones – I find them in the gizzards of some of the monsters – and he looked around with wondering eyes. I keep… mementoes here. Weapons, mostly – it’s wise to keep an armoury, in this place, and the dead don’t need them any more. Some armour, too, though there’s little made by men that equals the protection of vaalith hide, which is why I wear that now. The weapons of the dead deteriorate, over time, but it takes a long time for a well-cared for blade to wear out.

I watched him examining swords and maces the like of which he knew, then the older ones, working his way to the back of the cave. There he stopped and stared.

Time passes differently, here. What a person is carrying when they come in doesn’t age, any more than they do, not while the person is alive. Food does not rot, dyes do not fade, weapons do not tarnish – though they can be broken. So the clothing I wore when I first entered the forest has not altered since I stopped wearing it and laid it in the cave. The boy gazed at the leather tunic, the fur cape, the shoes that were just wrapped hides, and the small flint axe. Then he turned and looked at me. “How many hundreds of years,” he asked in a whisper, “has it been since men made axes of stones?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “A long time.”

“Can’t you leave?”

“I could if I wished to.” I heard voices in the outer cave, and pointed towards the gap. “Go tell your people I haven’t eaten you.”

He went, but I knew there would be more questions.

Two days later, we camped by a cliff, roasting the flesh of a crues-beast. “If the Stone Door moves every day, how will we ever find it?” The woman with the bow, whose name I had not troubled to learn, was frowning. “We can’t make any kind of systematic search.”

“I am… good at finding the Door,” I told her, turning the improvised spit. “I have been here a long time. I know the signs.”

“How long?” The man winced, and laid a hand on his bandaged leg. His scepticism hadn’t lasted past the first attack by the monsters. It usually didn’t.

“Since axes were made of stone.” The boy’s voice was quiet. “I saw her old things, in the cave.”

“Axes of stone? I never heard of such a thing.” The man frowned.

The woman with the bow looked stunned. “I have. There was an old mound, a burial mound… but it was thousands of years old. Thousands.”

“Then I have been here for thousands of years.” I kept turning the spit.

They all stared at me in silence for some time. “Were all people as short as you, when you were in the world?” It was the peasant woman who asked.

I nodded. “Mostly. I was middling tall, then.” I had noticed that people were getting taller – most people who come through now have a full hand’s length of height on me, or more. They are paler, too, their skins pallid instead of the good brown of my people, and they no longer tattoo their skin with woad or braid their hair with bones. The first time I saw yellow hair came as a shock, and red even more so. But that was a long time ago. “Time is… different, here. I do not feel the weight of years, nor does it seem so long to me.”

After that, they obeyed me without question. I wondered if I should start telling the travellers how old I am, to make them mind me… but no. I answer questions, but I do not volunteer information.

The boy crouched beside me while we drank from a stream and filled our water bottles. “Why do you stay here?”

I looked at him, thinking. I have been asked that question before, and usually I answer only ‘because I choose to’ or ‘because it is laid on me’, but again this child was different. He thought, hard, about what I told and showed him, about me. So I sat back on my heels. “This place was not made by wizards,” I said quietly. “It has always existed. It was old when my people wandered the mountains, and we told legends of it. It is a… testing place. Those who come out of it are… special. Great warriors, or leaders, or wise people. It changes people. Especially if they eat here.”

The boy nodded. “I am already stronger. I’ve noticed.”

I nodded too. “There is a rule. If one enters, one can leave again. If more than one enter, but only one survives to reach the Stone Door, that one can leave. But if there are two or more, then one must stay behind, living, and wait for the next time someone enters the forest.” I drew a mark on the mud at the end of the stream. “This mark was for my clan, once. It is long forgotten now. We were almost wiped out, in battle with another clan, and the last of us, fleeing, came here. I was… wise woman, for the tribe. Sorceress, you would call me. When we reached the Stone Door, I chose to stay behind, so the rest of the clan could go through. And I made a vow, then, that I would stay. That for as long as I lived, I would let others pass through, and remain behind.”

“For thousands of years?”

“I did not think it would be that long,” I admitted. “I fight and hunt the monsters every day. I thought one of them would win, sooner or later. But I made a vow. And I stay.”

The boy nodded slowly. “To save one’s people is… important,” he said slowly. “And a vow should be kept, no matter what.” He copied the sign I had made, drawing it in the mud with a dirty finger. “I will remember this. What is your name?”

It took me a while to remember it. “Oba.”

“I am Artur.” He smiled, and he wasn’t handsome, but he was charming when he smiled. “I will remember you, Oba.”

I got them out – all save the woman with the bow, who fell to a vaalith – and I remained behind.

Some time later – I never knew how long – a young man came through into the clearing, wearing steel plates over most of his body, etched and painted in marvellous patterns. On his breast, in a circle, he wore a familiar mark. “What is that sign?” I asked him, surprised.

He looked down at it. “It is the sign of our kingdom,” he said, seriously. “Our first king, King Artur, was given it by an ancient sorceress of great power, and he placed it on his standard and on his shield.”

I snorted. “Ancient I may be,” I told him, “and wise woman, but great my power is not. But I will take you to the Stone Door, if I can.” He goggled at me, and I turned away to hide my smile. That boy had been clever. I’d expected greatness from him. But a king, and one who remembered the ancient sign of my clan after seeing it drawn once in the mud… that impressed me. That peasant boy with his sling had gone far, and remembered well. “He is dead now, I suppose,” I added a little sadly, remembering the thin face and charming smile of a boy.

“Yes.” The young man sounded awed. “But they say that he made a vow, before he died. That if ever the people needed him again, he would return.”

“Then he probably will.” I glanced over my shoulder. “That boy knew the weight of a vow.”

I got the young man out, though lighter by a leg than he’d been when he came in. I have not heard more of the king, Artur, since then. But I remember him, better than most who pass through. A boy who thought, and asked questions, and knew that a vow must be kept.

If he does rise again, perhaps he’ll come back. I’d like to see him again… whatever form he wears."

You entered a forest filled with monsters. The exit constantly moves, you don’t age in the forest. When exiting, one person must stay unless they are the only one in the forest. Many a time you found the exit but let others leave. For the first time, someone asks how long you’ve been here.

[dankusner]

OPINION George H.W. Bush couldn’t back Trump

41st president built international coalitions; the 45th is a wrecking ball

On Nov. 30, 2018, President George Herbert Walker Bush passed away at the age of 94.

It was a sad day for America.

For many of us, that sadness extends to this day.

One of the main reasons for this is that I and many others believe that if Bush were alive today, he would take a strong and principled stand against Donald Trump ever returning to the White House.

I had the privilege of serving as a presidential appointee all four years in the George H.W. Bush administration, both in the White House and the Pentagon.

None of us serving President Bush could help but sense the deep reverence he held for the institution of the presidency, and this filtered down throughout the entire staff.

Like all administrations, we had our difficult days.

However, no matter where one served in his administration, there was this pervasive mindset that, in homage to his naval service, we could never “let the Old Man down.”

Trump has taken a wrecking ball to many of the most revered and important institutions that have been safeguarded by generations of presidents.

If given the chance, he will continue to do so.

He has characterized America as a “failing nation” and has laid the blame for this false narrative at the feet of the unpowerful — those least capable of defending themselves:

America’s poor, racial and ethnic minorities, and (most frequently) immigrants, regardless of their status or when their forebears arrived on our shores.

Our allies are worried, and they have good reason to be.

Above all, Bush was a foreign policy and national security president.

He built one of the greatest military coalitions in history to successfully drive Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein’s forces from Kuwait.

Trump has neither the interest nor the capacity to build coalitions.

He unabashedly embraces and admires the world’s worst autocrats.

He routinely maligns NATO and those nations that have stood by our side through some of the darkest periods of our history.

There is little doubt that, if elected, he will withdraw support for Ukraine’s fight for its survival and will most likely abandon our NATO allies.

I am blessed with many great memories of my years as a Bush staffer.

Of those memories, perhaps the most searing was on the morning after the 1992 election, which he lost to Bill Clinton.

Political appointees from his administration were invited to the South Lawn to welcome the president back from Houston.

It was a tough morning.

A hastily erected stage was in place.

Bush and his wife, first lady Barbara Bush, climbed the stairs to thunderous applause, cheers and many tear-stained faces.

He had two messages for us.

First, he thanked us for all that we had done during the four years of his administration.

Second, he charged each of us with working with the incoming administration to ensure the smoothest and most efficient transition in history.

There is not one of us who did not take that seriously.

None of us really needed to be reminded of what statesmanship and reverence for the presidency looked like, but this was a profound example.

Trump not only ignored his responsibility to provide for a transition to the incoming administration, to this day he contends that, evidence notwithstanding, the 2020 election was stolen from him.

It was bad enough that he was the first president in history to fail to attend the inauguration of his successor, to say nothing of his launching an angry mob to attack the very heart of our democracy.

America is not a “failing nation.”

Regardless of its many problems, it remains the world’s longest surviving democracy and a nation of endless possibilities.

America has a vital role as a world leader that is derived from our history as the land of immigrants where we pay homage to the rule of law and not to a single person.

Sometimes we need to be reminded of that. There are few times in our history when that message was more in need of being delivered, and there are few people who could have delivered that message more effectively than our 41st president.

Robert Kelly served as general counsel for the Office of Administration in the executive office of the president and as deputy assistant secretary of Defense (Drug Enforcement) during the George H.W. Bush administration.