#ft. clearwinged

[avernusfuries]

@clearwinged asked: 29! ↳ smooch roulette. 29. A kiss to the back of the hand. (not accepting).

Once upon a time, the intimacies of a high-born courtship hadn't been something that she'd been interested in. Karlach Cliffgate had always been a girl who ran hot, lived fast and lived for the simplicities life had to offer her. Good drinks, never splendid. Great company, always in her bed at the end of a night out. Creeping out as best as she could with her stature before the sun rose and the awkward small talk came as she tried to recover her clothes from where they'd been flung the night before.

Wyll was the opposite. He was a good man, and kindness spilled from him like river water. Steady, sturdy, dependable. She'd like it if it came from him. The properness. The slow, patient pursuit. Shared smiles over campfires, sweet words murmured in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep. With Wyll, she quite liked it. He was well-known for being a flirt, chancing his arm with the other girls, but nothing quite compared to how he treated Karlach. Big, clumsy, loud as fuck Karlach. That same respect he would offer to someone a little more delicate and easily broken, and it made her feel light-headed and giddy in a way that she'd forgotten over the past decade.

To her newly cooled skin, his lips felt soft and warm against her hand, as he tenderly pressed his lips to her knuckles. Her own were likely rough for years of hard use, the skin not quite as silky and soft as it used to be. Karlach felt her engine whirr to life, and for a moment imagined the whizz of it to be the thunder of her heartbeat. Fuck, if she had that, she wouldn't be able to hear herself think for the roar of it! Flustered, the tiefling made a noise that danced between flustered and amused.

For a moment, nothing else really mattered but this moment. Not the slow, dangerous march to glory or death. Not the cold and the rot of the shadowcursed lands around them. Just this little handful of minutes that were completely theirs.

It was Karlach who broke the quiet first. "You know, if I had one of those little handheld fan thingies, it would be fluttering." It was delivered with a small smile, one that felt almost uncharacteristically shy.

[hlfmoonshine]

eight questions for nine people

tagged by @missmvrder

1. last song i listened to: the call withing - dario marianelli ft. jack liebeck

2. favorite colour: yellow & pink & forest green & deep navy

3. last tv show or movie i watched: dimension20

4. currently watching: criminal minds (like right now. this second. s12 ep22 red light.

5. sweet, savory, or spicy?: savory

6. relationship status: single and not even a little bit looking.

7. current obsession: oh man. my own health? and maybe coral island a little?

8. last thing i googled: 'coral island critter list' which. just. pretend it was the one before that. oh. shit. 'detect thoughts 5e'. guys. i'm just a nerd. just a lil baby nerd.

tagging: @saudadexmses @moonvvrites @queenxfthedxmned @wyntersecret @rennisaturate @ofcrxwns @pristinaluna @deathwritings @clearwinged

[dialsdrnk]

@clearwinged sent 🗣 for a line of dialogue from this generator.

" you look like you need a hug. "

[dialsdrnk]

@clearwinged liked for a starter from scotty !

" hey. " there's something about an empty parking lot to really make your voice boom, huh? it makes a man like scotty — who has a softer, edgeless cadence unless he puts that edge in there with intention— flinch when his voice bounces back to him, even if just for a second. there's a quick recovery as far as his expression goes, the shock so momentary that his facial features return to what they'd been previously: resting easy on the fence between pensive and concerned. one might call him anxious, even — a little riled up. his fingers twitch at his sides and he looks around the endless lot like he's worried someone's coming after him, but he's actually the one scanning. "... uh — you seen a kitty cat? 'bout... this big." cue scotty making a vague estimate with his hands in front of his chest; nevermind the blood on his hand, either; or the wobble to his step, for that matter. scotty asks his company this, half-expecting the other man to walk away and starting to peer under what few cars are in the lot for said cat. "'s cold, man. i don't wanna leave 'er out 'ere..."

... it's not his cat. he's pretty sure he followed it from the junkyard, actually.