#im just getting back into the grove of things!

[sunsetcorvid]

imagine spending 33 years without bones and suddenly you're put into the body of a 50-something year-old man

look. hector fucked up big time but i don't think i'd wish that kind of shit on my worst enemy 😭

[loveisliquor]

Andromeda's never really done valentines day with a partner who was willing before. Normally it was her doing all the work, pulling out the stops, orchestrating moments, but Tristan's gone above and beyond for what she considers a wildly overrated holiday and she's absolutely melting. She beams at him at the sight of the breakfast, burnt and flat included. "This is the cutest thing anyone's ever done for me--" She let's out a delighted giggle. "I don't know how I'm going to thank you--"

valentine's themed starter for @loveisliquor yara, lilou or andromeda?

"So, let me explain..." Tristan presented breakfast sheepishly to her, the table was laid out meticulously with fresh fruits, Italian biscuits, a cafetiere, and in the middle a plate of pastries, half of which were most definitely burnt and a little flat. "I tried my hand at making croissants for the first time, I don't know why because I'm truly terrible at baking. So I bought some lovely edible ones but I wanted to let you see them too." He chuckled, it was the thought that counted, right? Thankfully he had more planned throughout the day.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

theres just so many interesting things you could do if you staged chimes of midnight tbh....

[fraternum-momentum]

hiiii!!! been following ur acc for a while, love the artstyle, love ideas for drawings(polite way to say i want to eat ur artwork)!

okay so i recently started to dip into dol fandom and wanted to ask if could redraw this one post with my own spin on it:

https://www.tumblr.com/fraternum-momentum/727635979648827392/me-and-the-boys-on-our-way-to-harass-pc-portraits?source=share

with credit and link ofc c: thank you in advance! sorry for anonymous ask i just can't figure out how to send messages from alt accounts!

wwwwww thank you so much 🥺🙏🙏🫶 and ofc !! a wonderful mootie of mine (@/dollya-robinprotector , @/yet-another-haven-of-dollya) also did her own version of it here ! have fun tho :DD

[acaciapines]

absolutely self-indulgent owl language breakdown from my owl house daemon au bc i was having fun with it today:

so we have 'wings-across-night' which is what the owl beast/firefly calls herself in her own language. the sounds of this name are spelled out as 'grr-click-growl', which, bc i have a sounds-to-general-meaning dictionary, is this idea of like...

the 'grr' and 'growl' are these lasting sounds, longer, and somewhat low and dangerous, which get across the 'wings' and 'night' idea that posit firefly as a hunter, who hunts best in the night. then we have the 'click' for across which is sort of a joining-together, and all-together it comes across as this long rumbling sound, ie of an owl in flight across the sky.

and then we get to FIREFLY, which, man it took me a WHILE to get to firefly as the translated witch-language/english version of wings-across-night. its this idea that...wings-across-night is a hunter of the night, she is someone who is found and associated with darkness, but it ALSO has an implication of being seen: she flies across the night, and is thus illuminated by it.

and so FIREFLY. as these creatures who glow in the dark, who live there and make it their own with something bright inside of them and its just so FUN.

and we get!! other names too! like 'king' being 'puffs out chest' because it comes from that sorta arrogance of his youth, being an itty-bitty baby who saw himself as the king of demons, but then later on its also this idea of like, how one might puff up as a sort of way of saying im HERE, not in an arrogant way but in a claiming this place as their own sort of way, which king does: he might be a titan but hes also a CLAWTHORNE.

'one that hoards' is what 'the collector' translates to in owl, but firefly doesnt call him this for long...bc the thing she notices about them is how SCARED they can get, how hesitant they are, bc theyve had so much taken from them and theyre protective of what they do have, yes in a way that can be harmful (look at their relationship w king lol) but also like...reaches out scared...and so we get this translating to 'sraf' in witch-language because that's what it is all about, in the end: the collector who has reached, terrified, for this thing he was told to avoid, and made it his own, and made himself sraf.

sea-and-light for luzmari is one of the first owl-names i came up with and one im still so fond of...they're called sea-and (mari) or and-light (luz) separately but no matter what we get the AND in there, tying them together as a pair despite all else. 'light' is straightforward for luz but 'sea' is a bit less for mari, but it connects for both of them similar things--light being the glyph luz finds first, ice being the one mari did, but mari not being so cold despite it all, but a thing ice melts into. (also when i was picking names i saw that 'maritza' means something relating to the sea, tho this was Years ago n i dont know how true that is lol since i dont have the source anymore). mari being first because she has chosen to be first, flipping the human-first script on its tail, bc firefly is an owl, and why would she follow convention?

im still poking around at my names for hunter and amity...last night i came up with something like berrysharp or berry-click or berry-(click) for amity and alma--i know they get a name together because they are almost always holding on to one another, and 'berry' for this sort of idea of both the purple but also like, berries can be bitter, sweet, something inbetween, and amityalma have been A Lot Of Things. and then the sharpness being the idea of like, throughout the fic amity is sort of the first character to just be HERSELF, especially when compared to luzmari who spend nearly the entire series really struggling with this...dunno this one im still turning over lol. the 'click' part of things is just bc 'click' tends to mean like, combining two things, which seems fitting for a name that is amity and alma together.

i have Nothing yet for hunter. some ideas. ive been toying with hunter and flapjack's name being something, and then somethings shadow--ie whatever name one of them gets, the other gets the same name with shadow tacked on, which fits their Vibes, plus when firefly meets them, which is post-hollow mind when things are Bad. prooooobably it would go flapjack and then hunter is flapjack's shadow, which i think is fun...but we'll see i still need a NAME. something to do with palistrom trees?

dunno. just...owl language <3

[seralica]

ugh so I remembered that Cozy Grove had a sequel in development and went to check up on it like "hey is that ready to play yet"

and it is...

but it's NETFLIX SUBSCRIBERS ONLY????????

What the fuuuuuuuuuuck

I know it's a bad time for game developers, and that plenty of subscription services are trying to draw more people in, and I'm glad the game was able to get made and exist and that it can bring more people joy instead of fizzling out if the studio went under

But I do NOT want to subscribe for my fucking games! I want to own the games! I want to buy them and have them! I don't want to have to subscribe forever! whyyyyyyy

[problemcore]

i miss this game already

[papermachedragons]

Oh man oh man oh man I have draft chapters of my current fic I need to work on to upload to ao3 but I picked up a 400+k word fic and I CANNOT put it down this fic is insane and intense and I am Hooked

[pomefioredove]

"stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you!" with Idia please!

idia the kind of guy to talk tough over dms and then stare at you like 0_0 when you meet up

summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, kissing!??!?!

"stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you!!!"

That's how it started.

Just one message on a night where you were both feeling a little too bold for your own good.

"yeah?? I'd like to see you try"

You'd been playing some stupid online game that Idia had been recommended, for much longer than you should've. It was well past two in the morning by now, on a school night no less.

Someone would nag you about it in the morning, but that's a problem for future you.

Current you is hidden under a sea of blankets, trying to hide the light of your phone screen from the room.

"maybe i will, huh???"

You smile at his reply. As if.

The game had been long abandoned, leaving you to your usual banter before you found something else to do together.

But it's almost three, and you're actually starting to get tired.

"im holding u to that. you better not get cold feet tomorrow"

No response. He's probably trying to come up with some witty comeback that'll leave you speechless, as always. But, nothing.

Weird.

You don't see much of him the next day, either. He hasn't been responding to any of your messages, and his status is offline, which is very unlike him. He's almost never not online in some capacity.

You're walking back to your dorm when your phone goes off.

"sending you my location. meet me asap"

Weird, again, weird. Idia being anywhere but his room is strange in and of itself.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you end up somewhere behind the school, in a shaded grove.

And there's a head of glowing blue hair sitting against one of the trees.

"Idia?" you ask, a little dumbfounded. "What's up?"

He has his hands in his pockets, and a terrified look on his face.

Still, he speaks. "Ready?"

"Ready?" you repeat. "For...?"

You sit down next to him, and he flinches, clearly wanting to scoot away from you but not letting himself.

"Seriously," he sighs, sulking. "And you told me not to get cold feet..."

Then it clicks. Your face lights up, a little amused, a little flustered, but overall, very surprised.

He's going to...

You try to hold back a grin. "Yeah, I'm ready,"

Idia sighs (dramatically), mumbles, "Well, you asked for it," and kisses you on the mouth.

It's... not very good.

Tense would be an understatement, he seems to hold the static kiss for much longer than necessary, as if he's just as afraid of finishing it as he was starting.

After what amounts to a minute of nothing, you pull back.

"Before you say anything-" you say, quickly, noticing the devastated look on his face. "Maybe I should lead. Okay?"

Idia opens his mouth, as if to argue, but the only thing that comes out is a faint, squeaky, "okay".

You move a little closer, cupping his face in your palms, trying to figure out how to lead.

His whole face (and hair) is pink, and he's staring at you like you're about to take a bite out of him instead.

You smile, push his hair out of his face, and kiss him.

It's... a little better. He actually kisses back, and you pull away as soon as you feel him getting nervous again.

"I suck at this," he sighs. "This is so cringe. You should just get it over with and kill me now."

"Have you had enough, then?"

A long silence follows. He stares at you. You stare back.

Idia takes a deep breath, then kinda smiles. "...Third time's a charm, right?"

[darlingdreadwrites]

Still and Breathless

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Having escaped from Toby the first time, you decide to go back to the woods. You know this is a stupid decision, but something has pulled you back. Toby is more than ecstatic, and equally confused. He gave you a chance to leave, to keep your life. He thinks one more chase would keep you safely away, but your body thinks otherwise.

contains: getting chased by toby (again), slight pov switches, flashback, kissing

warning: logic has gone out the window

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

a.n: naming part 2 something else because ticci toby x final girl!reader part 2 looks ugly LOL im finally done with part 2, sorry for the wait. im making it up with a kiss! this took so long im so sorry.

The ride back to the woods was deafeningly silent, apart from the engine’s low hum. You were punishing yourself with it, or maybe allowing the silence to give you a chance to change your mind. You let out another shaky breath as you kept your eyes on the road. You shift and the leather seat creaks, remind you that this isn’t a dream – you’re doing this. Yor grip on the steering wheel tightens more than it should. Your nails dig into the soft groves, knuckles white from the force. Your gaze flickers to the rearview mirror for the millionth time and, yes, it’s still there. The hatchet – his hatchet – is resting on the backseat. The sunlight causes the spots where it’s not caked in mud and aged blood to glint at you. It’s as if it’s winking, mockingly remind you that what you were doing was completely, undeniable fucking insane.

Who drives around with their almost-killer’s weapon?

But you were even worse, it seems.

You were driving with it to him. What was your plan? To give it back to him? You tried to tell yourself it was for revenge – to finish what you should’ve done that night. But who were you kidding? A disgusting part of you you didn’t understand yet wanted to see him.

“This is crazy,” you mutter, shaking your head – and the memories – away. The woods, the blood, the house, the bathroom, his eyes – wide, crazy, and… adoring. You were sure that’s what it was – adoration. You’ve had a lot of time to think about it. You’ve never been looked at like that before. It was clear you were still prey to him, but in the way that he’d kill you and devour you with reverence. Your jaw tightens.

The woods around you grow denser, your apprehension mixing with a strange thrill. You shouldn’t have gone to a party so close to the woods at night. They’ve always freaked you out, so why did you? It must’ve been the same impulse that pulled you to mechanically walk deeper into the swallowing edge of the forest. You should’ve called the cops when you escaped out of that house.

Your heavy, erratic breaths made your head feel lighter than it should. It hurt to breathe at that point, the weight of the hatchet made your arm ache. Your hand shook as fingers wrapped around the splintered wood, but you gripped the weapon. Your attacker was sprawled out in the tub, eyes half-lidded and dazed. You managed to hold the hatchet with both hands, then.

“If you move,” you managed, your voice a trembling murmur, “I will chop your dick off.”

The threat felt ridiculous as it fell out of your mouth, but you meant it. God, you meant it.

He didn’t react, he just kept watching you. You didn’t know why, and it pissed you off greatly. He had the energy and time to chase you and hurt you, but he couldn’t even give you this one thing? He whispered something, but you couldn’t make it over the pounding in your ears. Anger bubbled in your chest, and you had the courage to speak up again.

“Did you hear me?” you snapped, raising the hatchet.

This time, he slowly nodded before a tic caused his neck to twist. He let his head fall back against the tub, still watching you. You stumbled back with shaky legs, determined to get out before he changed his mind. You mumbled an “okay” as your back hit the doorframe. Readjusting your way, you started to run.

The gravel crunches under your wheels as you roll to a stop, the sound fading into the quiet of the forest around you. You turn off the engine and let your hands linger on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. There was one other car here, an old blue sedan with tinted windows. You look in the rearview mirror again before twisting in your seat to face it head-on. You didn’t want to touch it, but your hand moved anyway, getting hold of the hatchet’s neck. It was a familiar surface now, the feeling of worn wood. It shouldn’t have been. A voice in your head whispers, urging you to think again and head back home. But you were tired of constantly thinking about that night – you wanted to end whatever had started.

The woods seemed to have known you would be back, it was quiet, dense, and dark. The trees stretched endlessly in all directions. You had been walking for a few minutes, the crunch of leaves eliciting a memory in you. You paused for no particular reason other than to take in the cool air. Your beaths were shallow, a pulse hammering in your ears as you just stand there. The hatchet hangs limply at your side, and you begin to regret everything. I’m not being brave, you told yourself, I’m being stupid.

Something sharp snaps behind you – a twig. You freeze, making your grip firm on the hatchet. Your head turns slowly, heart racing as your eyes scan the trees for any sign of –

Him. You see him.

He was standing just a few feet away, just past where the light faded into shadow – just off the path. You would have missed him if it wasn’t for the way his shoulder twitches. The sight was jarring, he was so out of place and yet perfectly at home among the trees. He doesn’t move, he just watches you. Instead of the mask he had worn that night, his mouth was now covered by a black bandanna. The narrow stream of sunlight caught on the orange lenses of his goggles, perched atop of his curly brown hair. His hands were loosely at his sides, but you could just make out the twitch of his fingers – a subtle, restless energy that matched the slight tilting of his head as he looks at you.

Your heart pounds, every muscle in your body screaming at you to run away as fast as you can. But you can’t – not yet.

Not yet?

As if it were possible, the forest grew quieter around you.

Toby didn’t think in all his life that he would ever see you again. He had replayed the last encounter so many times in his mind that it felt like a fever dream. There was no way he let you escape – to let you live and risk revealing his actions to the world. But here you were, standing there like something out of a story he didn’t deserve to read twice. His breath hitches, eyes shutting tightly involuntarily. You weren’t supposed to be here. But you were, and it didn’t matter why – here you were. And, yup, he was still obsessed with you.

You really are something, aren’t you?

He moves slowly toward you, stepping out of the shadows as if he were approaching a skittish animal. This whole thing was surreal. Even the soft crunching of the ground beneath his boots sound fake. His limbs buzz with a nervous energy, and he clenches and unclenches his fists. He needed to steady himself; he can’t take this moment for granted – if it was real. As his eyes dart down and around you, drinking you in again. You stood there with the same defiance he had missed, your fingers tightened around his hatchet. You held it like it was yours. You certainly earned it.

You came back, he thought to himself. After everything I did to you. You came back. To me.

Every inch of him twitches with a need to reach out and touch you – to make sure this was real. He stops just a few paces away, waiting for you to do something first.

You felt as if you had stopped breathing the second he stopped in front of you. You didn’t know what he was feeling behind the bandanna, so you wouldn’t let him find out any of the emotions that swirled around your head. Your eyes glance down at the hatchet on his hip, making you tighten your grip on yours. He whistles, but you are used to his tics by this point. You didn’t know if he would hurt you, he wasn’t making whatever he could–would–do clear. You were just glad to have a weapon this time.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you swear he could hear it. You think back to that night, his unpredictability. He’d slow down, waiting for you to do something, before exploding into violence with no remorse. But he stopped in that bathroom. You were so sure that you were going to die that night. He easily could have.

What the hell is wrong with you?

If you made it out again, maybe you would have the answer.

He moves closer, and your pulse quickens. This isn’t one of the dreams you have had recently, you are in the same woods. You drove here and looked for him. What did you want from him?

Your eyes meet his again, and something inside of you snaps.

You don’t wait for him to make the first move. Your legs start all on their own, darting in a random direction in the woods. The same adrenaline that drove you that night was surging through you now. Branches whip at your arms and legs, your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t look back. You knew he was coming.

The wind sung in your ears with every wide step you took. Twigs snap, leaves crunch, and it was considerably harder to do this while holding a hatchet. You still don’t know why you decided to run, it’s not like you were heading to the safety of your car. It was just thrilling; you got a strange high from it. The distant thump and rhythm of his pursuit pushes you on because you’d be pretty pissed at yourself if you let him win this time. Imagine surviving the attack of a serial killer, only to come back to him willingly and lose. That would be devastatingly embarrassing.

“Y-you’re slow tod-today,” he taunts from behind you, cutting through the silent concentration.

You didn’t answer. Your lungs burn, and you weren’t sure if anything that came out would be coherent. You dare to glance over your shoulder, seeing him closer than before. You refuse to let that scare you, though. You beat him once before.

He was playing with you.

You hear a laugh echoing between the trees behind you. He’s going to try and pop out beside you, you realize. You prepare, holding the hatchet closer to you as you duck under a low branch. Just as you thought – there he was.

“Tired?” he sang, coming from somewhere to your left.

But you were already veering to the right instinctively. The unrelenting aggression from when you first met wasn’t there anymore. You could tell by the way he kept laughing and taunting you. He wasn’t trying to catch you – not really. This was just a game to him, just how you thought it was when you “won” last time. The rush you got from “winning” against a serial killer – you want that again.

The forest floor gave away and your view of the world tilts – fast. You both hit the floor with a thud, your bodies a tangling mess of limbs. The air was forced out of your lungs in a sharp gasp, but you move quickly.

Toby scrambles under you for a second, but you’re faster. You press your knee into his chest, pinning him down and wrestling the hatchet into position. Gripping the handle with both hands, you press it sideways against his neck. You knew he had an uncanny way of not feeling pain, but you were sure he could feel his breathing constricted.

You shift your knee, digging it into the dirt beside him. You lean over him, just enough to hear the slight hitch of his breath behind the bandanna. For another moment, neither of you move. The forest fell into silence again. His goggles were one movement from sliding off of the disheveled mess of his hair. Wild eyes flick up to meet yours, and you silently dare him to try anything.

Toby’s body betrays him almost immediately. They start small – his tics make him shut his eyes tight, his shoulder twitching against the ground. Each movement was maddening and uncontrollable, and he hates how vulnerable the tics make him look – how vulnerable he feels under you.

The sharp, rapid jerking of his head causes the bandanna tied around his face to loosen. He can feel the knot undoing itself, the fabric sliding upward and partially covering his eyes. He let out a low, frustrated growl. He tries moving his chin downward, trying to shake it back into place, but it was too late. With another involuntary neck twitch to the left, he stiffens at the realization - that side of his face was now visible. And he could only make out part of your forehead, obscuring any reaction you could’ve had right now.

His lips twitch into a grimace, the scarred corner pulling awkwardly. A cold sense of dread forms a tightening knot in his stomach as the silence drags on. He knows you’re looking at it – you’re eating up every detail, probably disgusted.

Don’t look at it, he pleads, don’t stare.

The old wound throbs faintly, not from any type of pain… but from a distant memory he could never seem to grasp. His jaw clenches and his grip on the hatchet tightens, fingers brushing against yours. He can feel you trembling from the remaining adrenaline in your body. He hates how much he wants you to look away and how much he doesn’t. It was a maddening thrill to be so close to you, but he was sure he would never see you again after this.

The sounds of your breathing silenced all the sounds of the world around both of you. The tension between you was unbearably suffocating – as if it was you with the wooden handle pressed against your neck. Something, you didn’t know what, was threatening to snap. You didn’t know what you were thinking – if you were thinking.

You lean down, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was as brief as it was forceful. It was like a car crash – a collision charged with adrenaline and defiance. You were taking and claiming your victory, proving once again that you could overpower him. There was a weakness in him, and you were proud to hold that title.

Your heart beats violently in your chest as you pull back. You can’t make out the emotions in his eyes, but by the way his lips part makes it clear – he’s just as shocked as you were, if not more.

This time, you were sure some kind of demon was possessing you. The kiss was slower this time, a curiosity driving you now. His lips are chapped, but not entirely unpleasant. You can feel the vibration of his grunt as the handle of the hatchet stays pressed to his neck. This isn’t enough, you think. It wasn’t enough to satiate the myriads of confusing emotions thrashing inside of you. But just as you let your lips part – just as the tip of your tongue touches his – you snap back into attention.

You sit up, still on his stomach and keeping him in place with his hatchet. It all seems to come back rushing at once – the wind in the trees, the chirping of birds. Your face burns as you stare down at him. He doesn’t say a word - you were getting tired of this.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into a crooked grin. The bandanna is still bunched up awkwardly over his eyes. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, as if not wanting to taste anything left of the kiss. You don’t know what any of this means – what twisted bond you just solidified. All you knew was that the air felt heavier than anything you’d ever experienced before.

[chaoticnezz]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~You hummed a familiar tune that you had heard one day on your walk to the store. You let a small huff of relief slip between your lips. 'im glad that nobody's here.'

Earlier their was a fight in the hallway, as you were going to the music to enjoy your free period you had got caught in the crowd. You had barely managed to slip through into a quieter hallway.

The bad news was that this was an unknown hallway to you, sure you've been going here for about a year and a half, but this school was huge so you haven't seen all of it.

You felt your fingers move along the groves of the wall, As you tried to find someone to ask for direction to hallway 1-C. As you walked further down the hall you heard a frustrated grunt followed by the sound of paper being crumbled.

You followed the sound, letting curiosity get the best of you. Stoping at a partially cracked door, you gently opened the door and steeping inside the room.

A head snapped in your direction. Your e/c eyes Locked with a pair of teal eyes. You examined the stranger, he had red hair with some teal tips sprinkled around, accompanied by teal eyes.

You inhaled a small puff of air. "I'm sorry for disrupting you." The strangers glare softened. "It's alright, so what brings you to the art room."

He set down the pencil that you now realized that he was holding. "I heard paper being crumpled, and I'm also kinda lost." The strangers face relaxed Even more as he let a small snicker escape his lips.

"Really? Well where do you need to go I could show you the way." The tips of your ears had turned a bit red (or whatever color you have for blush.) From being laughed at.

"Well I need to go to the music room." "Alright I'll show you the way, my name's sora M by the way." "Well Sora I'm Y/n L/n."

Sora stood up from his seat at the desk. You now realized that Sora was a good foot or so taller then you. Sora walked out of the now opened door.

As the two of you walked down the school halls a question lingered in you mind. "Why exactly were you crumpling up paper.

"Well I was struggling to draw one of my model photos." Sora let out a sigh as he rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, well maybe you just need a new model."

"Maybe your right thanks for the help Y/n." The two of you began to continue down the halls in silence. The silence would have been nice if their wasn't this weird feeling crawling up your spine.

That feeling never disappeared even after a couple of weeks.

But here you were waiting in the art room for Sora. He asked you to help him with his art project. The doors soon slid open and soon in came Sora.

"Sorry I'm a bit late I had to stay after class to help a teacher." "It's alright, so what did you want me to help you with."

"Well I need someone to model for me but." "But what?" You hoped off the windowsill and stared at Sora, pure curiosity filled your eyes.

"I'd rather have someone to keep me company forever." "What" you backed away from Sora not liking how his tone of voice changed.

Sora stepped closer to you each time you took a step back. And soon you were backed into a corner. You began to throw punches and kicks trying to keep Sora away from you.

"I don't like violence, angel please don't make me do this." That was the last thing you heard before getting knocked unconscious.

[mashiraostail]

Hii! can i request your take on how wyll would react to a partner that is just ridiculously into him? like, they blush and giggle everytime he makes a joke, anytime they talk to him in camp they are def staring at his stomach, they cling to him at every opportunity. that kinda thing.

i LOVE your writing btw

this how i am with Wyll in my play through he goes "well met" and im kicking my legs and giggling

sorry i've been kinda MIA turns out being an adult with responsibilities like lowkey takes up a lot of my time.

Wyll doesn't like to flatter himself, he's the Blade of Frontiers that's special enough. He doesn't also have to be the apple of every wayward adventure's eye, he doesn't have to be anything particularly special to look at. So he doesn't, flatter himself that is, he doesn't immediately think that he's the reason his newest traveling companion is fluttering and blushing and stumbling in every direction. He figures you're just like that, excitable and always happy to see a familiar face in such a treacherous situation. He decides that he's more than happy to be that familiar face for you. It had been that way since your first meeting at the grove, you had reached out and rested a hand on his bicep as you invited him to join your camp and something about the twinge of color in your face and the way you struggled to hold his gaze made him feel glad to have been invited, he accepted easily. He briefly wonders if perhaps your constant watching and nervous fluttering comes from a place of distrust, distrust in his eye, in his pact, and in his history, that concern didn't last long.

As you traveled together it only became worse, the less clothing he had on the fewer syllables you could choke out at him, all of his jokes were the funniest things you'd ever heard and if you had any say in the matter you would always walk beside him. He didn't mind, actually the opposite, and he wondered when it might be time to start flattering himself with the notion that you would enjoy more than just friendly conversation.

He can feel your eyes on him, which isn't unusual, but lately it seems to be more. What could have been mistaken before for an excitability about or a desire for friendship and a familiar face was slowly morphing into something more tangibly lustful. He could feel your eyes on his stomach, gliding down the wiry trail of hair below his navel, darting between the protrusion of his hipbones, down the V of his shirt collar and over the veins in his bicep. When you spoke your eyes fluttered between his face and his body and if it were anybody else he wondered if he would feel as flattered as he did right now.

Often he finds himself looking for a reason to go to you, maybe he likes flattering himself or maybe he just likes you. He'll bring you books to read on relevant topics like mind-flayers and mind-flayer transformations, areas you're going to travel through, enemies you'll have to fall and so on. When the day is out and you all settle in at camp he's usually looking for you first of all.

"There you are-"

You try to not go so dutifully to him, you know your oogling is obvious, you'd feel more guilty if his distaste of it were clearer but you couldn't get a read on him and you couldn't help yourself at the best of times. It was especially hard to get a read on him when he seemed to be looking for you almost as often as you were thinking of or looking at him.

"Wyll." You're sitting by the camp fire, back against a log when you see him walking towards you, or hear him call out for you.

"I was looking for you." He stops barely a foot away, looking down at you. You instantly feel heat rise up your chest, you can feel it pool between your collar bones and climb slowly up your neck, the color burns your cheeks.

"You were....looking for me?" And gods help you, you try to look at his face, his face is as lovely as the rest of him but at night you get to see his uncovered arms and stomach and you can't help but desperately want to see it all.

"I found something for you today, it slipped my mind earlier but I saw it in my pack and remembered you." He's holding a book up, "I hope I can blame this forgetfulness on our unwanted passengers." He taps his temple, "otherwise I fear what will happen to me in my old age."

The worst part of it all is you're extremely capable, Wyll's watched you fell hundreds of enemies by now, and that's in the past week alone. But somehow all he had to do was crack a light joke and you were giggling and smiling at him like a school child. Though he didn't seem disdainful of it, he actually looked rather proud, so the embarrassment about it was reserved for you alone.

"It's a book about the Underdark and the Myconid colonies there. I'm not sure what it was doing in that empty tavern basement but...I guess my old habits can still come in handy sometimes." He shrugs and holds it out to you, "I figured you would like to read it."

"Thank you for thinking of me." You're sure he can see the wash of color over your skin darken, especially so when he reaches out his pointer finger to brush against your hand as you take the book from him.

"Don't thank me, it's easy." He shrugs and procures an apple and a dagger, though he's probably had them the whole time and you only tore your eyes away from his chest to notice now. "Room for one more? I can share this apple as repayment." He nods at the empty spot beside you and tries not to laugh as you flounder to sit up and make room for him.

"What's gotten into you lately?" He's still standing as he begins to peel the apple with the slightly dulled blade, pushing it occasionally against the pad of his thumb, he drops the scraps for the cub and Scratch who come dutifully to him, "you seem jumpier than usual."

What had gotten into you was Wyll's incessant need to test the water with you. He'd sit by you and your thighs would touch and you would be able to feel his breath on your shoulder when he spoke; he'd offer to take your bowl after dinner and cover your hand with his when he did, and he would laugh at you, and rest his hand on his stomach where he must know you would look. He'd watch you preen and purr at the attention, and you would go to him like a moth to a flame and he would celebrate the victory of it as if he hadn't had you all along.

"I'm just...exhausted." You rub your face to sell the lie, and it was certainly a lie, you couldn't feel tired around Wyll only jumpy, clingy and nervous.

"Really?" He frowns, "shall I leave you then?"

His frown was enough to make your chest and stomach bloom with excitement, he wanted to stay with you.

"No! I can't sleep so early.... I'll be up all night. I'd like your company."

You watch the subtle flex and give of his bicep and forearm, illuminated in the firelight, as he rounds the edge of the dagger across the apple's skin, the vein on the back of his hand gently protrudes as the blade of the dagger presses against his thumbprint. Every twist of the dagger brought his biceps to life, the steady strength of his arm coaxing the apple's skin to surrender in slow, deliberate ribbons; and you genuinely aren't sure what to do with it all. You wanted to feel his biceps ripple under your hands, watching the practiced ease with which he moved made you wonder what else he was well practiced for.

"We should have somebody paint you a picture. when we get to the city." He slices of a bit of the peeled apple and offers it to you, "it would last you longer."

"A painting wouldn't do you justice." You take it from him as he sits down, you hear him kiss his teeth and laugh through his nose.

"Careful, you won't like me with a big head. What are you trying to butter me up for, exactly?" He slices himself a cube of the apple and despite the shame anyone else would feel at his previous words you can't help but watch as his teeth sink into the apple with a crunch. You watch the flex and pop of his jaw as he chews and the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows. If he can tell you're watching he doesn't seem to mind.

"Nothing in particular." You shake your head at him and accept another small chunk of the fruit he was cutting.

"Ah." He twirls it in his hands, "but you are trying to butter me up then?"

"I don't know if I would call it that, I just can't help myself."

"You know, at first I worried you just didn't trust me." He offers a chunk of apple to the cub and scratch before throwing it into the distance, they run after it and he grins, "but now I'm worried I'm becoming vain, thanks to you."

"Vain?" You pique, "why's that?"

"I can tell you're always looking, and I'm preening like a peacock for you. Dunno why, you'd caught something the second you met me, didn't you?" He nudges his shoulder against you before going on, the flush rising again to your face was all the answer he needed, "I'll tell you the truth, if you'd like to hear it, I aim to live by the standards of a gentleman. The kind of man my father would have been proud to raise. I like to do things properly, slowly, deliberately." He sets the dagger down, "but, when we met, I could feel you looking at me at camp that night, the way you talked to me, and preened for me, it felt good. I felt like I wouldn't have minded to throw away those standards, to enjoy you the way you seemed to enjoy me."

"So why didn't you?" You sounded almost petulant, and you were looking up at him with so much earnest that he wondered again what would be so bad about throwing caution to the wind.

"Just because I wouldn't have minded to do something doesn't mean it would be the right thing to do. I am glad to take my time with this, no matter how difficult I find it at times. It's rewarding to...enjoy flattering myself with your attention while I consider, with time, all the ways I'd like to return it. You deserve much more than a lustful, needy, late night tryst, as wonderful as it may sound in the heat of the moment. You deserve all the careful time and consideration I can muster the will power to afford...I only want you to know that I understand you, and I feel the same way. When the time is right, and when I can give you the sort of night you deserve, you'll have me. I promise."

If you were to ask Wyll he would tell you he honestly had no idea how he kept his head from growing to big to fit in camp. Gods, you were practically purring in his lap and all he had offered up were some honeyed words and close contact. He'd never tell, but maybe it was all a bit self indulgent because gods did he love watching you bloom for him, he didn't mind letting you push the envelope, put your hands on his chest, let them wander a bit, he had more than enough will power to deny himself in the end and it would all be worth it when he finally found the right time to have you, or at least when he finally ran out of will power.

He wouldn't mind waiting until then anyways, not when you gave him enough attention to hold him over for a life time.

[chouettecrivaine]

Ah, Young Love! [Our Life: Now & Forever]

Fandom: Our Life: Now & Forever

Characters: Qiu Lin, Tamarack Baumann

Notes: takes place during Step 1, so he/him is used for Qiu as that is how he identifies at this point in the story!

So anyway I'm obsessed with how everybody wants Qiu but Qiu only has eyes for MC once they meet so I'm thinking about his silly little boyhood crush. And then I couldn't leave best girl Tamarack out of the love fest so here's just a few little things I was thinking about with them having childhood crushes on u <3

Note that only the demo is publicly available and I am not currently a patron so anything here that is proven true is coincidence and anything proven false is just me having a little fun

Qiu Lin

So like. I've seen Qiu call you pretty twice in the demo. Once when you meet him if you choose to call him pretty first, and again towards the end of what's available in the demo when he's listing off reasons why you should be allowed to join the club..

I just think that whenever he talks about you he always has to let it slip that he thinks you're cute. "They had on a really nice hair clip today!" "Their hair looked so cute when they took off their hat at school." "When I picked them up to walk to school, I was so surprised at how pretty they looked!"

When he told his parents about you he probably said "this really pretty kid surprised me in our yard and we went on a miniature adventure!"

Also (and note that my MC uses she/her so im gonna quote him using gendered terms but only for this one instance) When he's introducing you to one of his friends, he starts off with your name and says "she's a girl!" (Or whatever terms you have set)

So I just think he says the most basic facts about you with so much awe and wonder 🥺 like you wore overalls to school? He talks like you invented denim. You had a funny comment or joke? It's like he's never heard one before in his life when he retells it.

I feel like…the first thing that makes him interested in you is that you're new. Not only does this make you fun to mess with, but it makes you far more interesting than the people he's known his whole life. Plus you, unlike Tamarack, don't immediately brush off the cool things he wants to show you or do with you if it isn't immediately your cup of tea.

Darren and Baxter are sick and tired of hearing your name !! If you're not around Qiu wonders aloud at least once if he should or should've invite(d) you. If he did invite you and you had to decline, then he wonders what you're doing.

The type of kid to skip out on his weekend chores at home and go to your house to help you unpack instead

Ok so MC says they used to live in an apartment, right? Probably in the city? And MC was only allowed to play on their own because Golden Grove is "a safe neighborhood?" What if MC doesn't know how to ride a bike. What if Qiu teaches them…

Whether you get a hang of it or not, he daydreams about doing that thing where he rides the bike and you sit backwards on the seat or on the handlebars or something

When he finds out you can't ride a bike, he definitely shows off by riding around without his hands on the handlebars.

Will teach you how to jump off the swing set too, then will have competitions over who can swing the highest and leap the farthest

I feel like Golden Grove has a cute little main street with a bunch of locally owned shops. If you're interested, he'll show you every. single. business. Even if most of them are "granny shops" he isn't interested in. He'll let you poke around for a bit :)

He has a special page in his notebook for all the little notes and doodles about you

If you look closely at the note he gives you after class, you can see the remnants of a few tiny little hearts that he erased!!

Going back to him offering you to ride on his bike: he probably got you in trouble once because you were on your front lawn and he rode up asking you to go on an adventure with him on his bike. You're expecting a fun little 20 min ride through the walkable path in the woods that'll have you back home by dinner. Instead he takes you to town and buys you ice cream and the two of you have to struggle your way back up the hill on foot and it takes like an hour and a half to get back and your mom was worried SICK

Buys a pack of pens with one/some of your favorite color(s) and writes you notes exclusively in that/those ink(s)

If you and your mom go somewhere and he knocks on your door while you're out, you will come home to see him sitting on the steps to your front porch and waiting for you

Before class starts, he always gives you a funny face or a wave. If you come in late because of a doctor's appointment or something, naturally a lot of the kids turn to look at your entrance, and he immediately waves at you. Maybe even says hi to you out loud if he knows Mrs. Murray is in a good mood / he can get away with it.

If he finishes his work early or something, he'll turn around in his seat and just watch you from across the room with major heart eyes. He smiles wider and waves when you notice.

Anything you compliment him on, he immediately draws attention to around others. Say his hair looks good today? He'll hit you with a "oh but not every other day?" but then tell his seatmates about what you said.

Buys extra portions of his little snack bags of chips and candy or whatever he likes when he can so that he can give them to you during lunch.

Gets on a kick and will pester you about having a secret handshake until you let him come up with one. He likes having special things just you and him 🥺

Probably invites you to his hideout at a specific time and day every week and he gets soooooo excited for that time to roll around.

Tries extra hard in your favorite subject, even if it's one he hates. He's not trying to be top of the class, but he doesn't want you to think he doesn't care about something you care about!

If you like a class he's terrible at, he'll ask for your help! Or, if you struggle in a class he's good at, he'll volunteer to help you out even though he HATES the concept of doing extra schoolwork. That's how much he likes u

He'll do this with any windows but especially if one of your bedroom windows faces his: he will definitely pull a Taylor Swift in "You Belong With Me" and write notes for you guys to read to each other

Since he can't sit with you, he'll write you notes or make you doodles and then pretend he has to get up to sharpen his pencil so he can pass your desk and slip it to you

Tamarack Baumann

Tamarack will straight up just stare at you 👁👁

She follows you around like a lost puppy and visibly brightens up when you're around

Looks forward to school because she gets to sit next to you all day! Like she'll skip happily along the path with you and Qiu and you'll ask her if she's looking forward to all these things and she'll just go "No!" and when you finally give up and ask why she says "because I get to spend the whole day next to you!"

When she goes to play in the woods, sometimes she'll spend a while in the shallower end of the tree line waiting to see if you'll come outside and play with her

Has definitely thrown sticks and pebbles at your back door to lure you out before she gets bored

Likes to go around and pick up the coolest rock, the prettiest flower, the biggest piece of tree bark, a leaf the size of her head…then before she goes home for the night, she stops by your house and gives what she picked up to you!!

If you're not home then she leaves it on your porch with a note, usually held down by a rock if it's not something heavy 

She'll be over the moon if you give her cool rocks and stuff you found. Even if you're literally giving her trash, like if you ONLY give her bottle caps or pop tabs you find on the sidewalk, she cherishes them. Would make jewelry out of them tbh

Ok so quick tangent but there's a book I read in about 4th grade called Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli, and in it the love interest girl is the quirky type. One thing she has is a little decorative cart on her dresser which she puts rocks in every time she's happy and takes rocks out when she's sad. When the protag goes to her house and finds out, she explains how she has put the most rocks in it since meeting him. They kiss sometime after that and she puts another rock in and tells him about it. I think Tamarack would have a jar or a doll house bathtub and she would do the same thing, putting rocks in it when she's happy! So what I'm saying is give her plenty of rocks so she can exclusively use MC rocks for that 

Also will make matching jewelry for the two of you without even stopping to think if you even wear what she's making. She'll buy kits to make special rings and headbands, braid a million friendship bracelets out of multicolored string, use acorns she found to make earrings…anything! She is just as happy if you wear it then she is if you buy a jewelry display stand and show them off in your room. Eventually she adds keychains into the mix for some variety

Doesn't mean to spend a lot of her time waiting on you but she does. On weekends, instead of going directly into the woods, she'll just lie on her back in her yard and stare up at the clouds, completely still, daydreaming (about you) until she hears your door opening. Then she runs to you.

If any of your windows are open, particularly your bedroom window, she'll send a bunch of paper airplanes your way. Most of them make it! However, you've learned that if you find even one paper airplane inside, you're going to have to check that side of the house for more scattered on the ground

Grips onto your arms or your clothes whenever she can. You two are connected.

Makes a BIG effort to like anything that you like as much as you do! And when she follows you around, it doesn't really matter if you're doing something she doesn't care about. She just wants to spend time with you! It does make her whole week if you follow her into the woods, though.

She doesn't take notes in class, but you leave a writing implement out for her and sometimes she'll reach over and doodle a cute bear or something on your paper :)

If you say you're cold, she'll give you her scarf, no questions asked. Is also down to share but don't let her do that while you're walking because it WILL end badly 

Has wrapped the scarf around the two of you and tied you guys together before and yes it was the best recess of her life 

When walking, she tends to lean into you which sometimes almost turns into pushing you and Qiu into the road if you're not careful

Likes to drag you around places and pretty quickly invites you to her house. She doesn't tell her grandparents that she's inviting you over, so they're surprised by you almost every time, but they don't mind! She's dragging you up the stairs to her room too quickly for them to say anything anyway

[autistichalsin]

so im a bit slow when it comes to flirting and i dont quite understand what Halsin meant when he calls us "resourceful", everyone else seems to catch on on what he meant but i didnt :") could you maybe explain what Halsin meant by that? its been on the back of my mind for a literal year now

This is a case where I get it but also might be too Autistic to articulate it. Let me try my best?

Basically, Tav just said they wanted to find things to do besides talk with Halsin. (Implication: sex). Halsin very much picks up on the innuendo, but he's also in no position to enjoy that; he just got freed from captivity, got back to his Grove to find a proverbial dumpster fire, and is about to return to the cursed lands where his childhood best friend is suffering. So he acknowledges it and deflects, but because he does enjoy the advances, he also signals his interest. "I am sure there are (other things we could do). You strike me as extremely... resourceful" is nice/complementary, and continues the flirtatious tone even if he's indicating he can't at this time. He's basically saying, Tav's a person who could definitely find something to do besides talking- and he approves, and wishes he could join in.

Hope that makes sense?

[the-butch3r]

alright, i’ve been holding onto this for a while as i wrote it a few months back, but im not really in the fandom anymore and i dont want to finish this as i originally planned to break it up into 3 parts (in the forms of act 1, 2 and 3) but i dont have the.. *anything* to do that. so, i'm going to post most of what i have of act 1, seeing as i won't finish it and i do not want this to go to waste lol so enjoy if anyone wants to continue this (i doubt it) lmk, i really dont care as long as credit is given

DEFAULT DARK URGE X READER (TAV): ACT 1

good aligned playthrough, spoilers for act 1 ahead here (obviously) tav is more of a ‘sweet and caring’ type of person, fyi 😕

You both met right after the nautiloid crash, on the beach. You spotted him facing away from you, seeming discombobulated and disoriented. Seeing the opportunity for any help, you approached and greeted him enthusiastically.

To you, he was another survivor; a potential friend who could help you get out of this mess.

To him, you were just another sheep among all others, your soul to be eventually ripped and shredded from this world one way or another. He wants to rip you apart as the bloodthirsty, vicious wolf, to make you bleed and shriek by his accursed hands. At least, that is what his mind tells him - His own flayed heart feels different. He is confused as to why it is this way, or better yet, who he even is, but he stays vaguely quiet about it for now.

Your minds lock together, as yours did with Shadowheart and Lae’zel just earlier – you sense something hungry, locked deep inside of you, yet you know not what. You are confused, puzzled, but there’s more to it than that.

He groans, rubbing his fingers on his skull in an attempt to ease the pounding blood in his head. You explain that it’s the tadpole’s doing, and you then introduce yourself. He reciprocates, but takes a pause as if deciding on a name, and subsequently landed on ‘Durge.’ It was a strange name, but you didn’t judge. You invited him along on your journey to seek out a healer, and seeing as he had no other choice, he accepted.

As he travels with you, it’s easy to tell something in his head has been twisted, other than what the tadpole might have affected. looking into his eyes deep enough gives you the sensation as if they contain a malicious hunger deep inside them – he perks at the slightest mention of anything within the nature of obscene violence, and it’s almost like he changes into someone completely different during combat. You sense that the nautiloid wasn’t the only unfortunate occurrence he’s suffered, but you didn’t want to pry now, so you decided to yourself you’d stay quiet until he’d ever wanted to confide in you, assuming you two would be able to get that far.

When you make it to the grove, you stumble upon the cutest squirrel you’ve ever seen! You kneel down and admire it, holding a hand out to it before it bites your finger. You recoil and curse under your breath, not even able to react before Durge straight up kicks it splat into a tree. His eyes go wide and he glances around as if some invisible entity were responsible for this incident, seemingly perplexed that he could be the one to do something like that. Your other companions go wide-eyed as well, taking a subtle step away from him. You figure that now may be a good time to ask him about, well, his wellbeing.

You question him, not wanting to pry too much out of respect, but also curious about whatever just happened. You make a funny comment about needing protection from things other than squirrels, but he doesn’t laugh with you. You correct your tone and ask sympathetically, is everything all right?

He answers honestly. No. He’s not alright. He confesses he has amnesia – he does not remember who he is, and his mind is just spinning with what feels like a raging headache.

You lay a hand on his shoulder, attempting to console him to your best effort, to which he smiles softly and expresses his appreciation for it. You offer a healing potion to see if that might make him feel better, but he declines. He assures you that he just needs some time to adapt to his condition. He should be fine as long as he takes it easy, for now.

There are more various encounters you note over the course of a few long rests, such as the Arabella incident. You always take a glance at him once in a while, to see if he has that crazed look in his eye. Usually he does, but you can tell he tries to subdue whatever is inside of him. You start to quietly question yourself about who he is – could he be lying about his amnesia? No, surely not. He seems genuinely befuddled. There is definitely more to his situation than amnesia. You sympathize. You want to help him, somehow.

You and Durge grow closer together, over time. He deeply appreciates how you show your concern for him, and he expresses that. You could soon call yourself friends after knowing him only a few days to a week. He was always by your side on your adventures, attached right to the hip. You were the person he was most comfortable around, so far.

You enjoyed his presence as much as he did yours. He was mostly quiet, but you of course didn’t mind. He was smart, and he listened to you, and valued your comfort just as much as you valued his. He respected you, and you respected him in turn.

And that’s where feelings grew. A fondness resonated between you two, and you felt safe in his presence, despite how intimidating he may stand out to be. But that only increased your attraction for him. Even better, he was gentle with you. It feels like you had unlocked a secret softness inside of him, reserved only for someone like you, which made you feel very accomplished.

On his end, he was distraught. Overwhelmed by this emotion. At first, he recognized his fondness for you, but hadn’t seen it as a romantic emotion. The thought hadn’t even so much as brushed against his mind. But now? He is in such denial, and so many confusing feelings are buzzing around his head that he could not even comprehend or interpret. It is as if his bitter heart were never made to dispense emotions such as this. He doesn’t even know how to feel about it. Is this a good emotion for him? He doesn’t know. He has never recognized the soft feelings he gets when he’s near you. For now, he tries to learn how to live with them, if he cannot decipher them, hoping these may go away soon. Unfortunately, they only get worse.

Just as much as he recognizes his feelings for you, the urge only grapples its talons on you like a target. Two halves of him either want to kill you, or protect you. Seeing as you’re still alive, he’s doing a better job at protecting you, but whatever deplorable evil is inside him scares him. He knows, beyond any doubt, it will unleash chaos within him, sooner or later.

As a result of the urge to both keep you alive and kill you, he tries to spare at least a bit of distance from you. He moves his tent all the way to the other side of camp, away from you and everyone else. He purposely lags behind, just a bit, whilst you’re exploring. He stays away from you in combat, using his sorcery on enemies from afar. He slightly avoids you, just in the hopes it will keep you a little bit safer.

Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice. Until it gets worse. He seems to grow only more and more distant to you every day and you’ve been noticing it for the past week, and you don’t know why. It gets to the point where he only speaks in short monosyllabic words to you, if not outright ignoring you. He even stays in camp most of the time, refusing to come along with you anymore. Did you do something wrong? No, you can’t think of anything you could’ve done recently to upset him. Perhaps he just needs space, and you can understand that. But still, you want to know. So you ask him, on the night you prepare to raid the goblin camp with your other companions.

It doesn’t go as well as you would’ve wanted it to. When you approach him and sit next to him, he blatantly ignores you as if you were not there. You start speaking, expressing your concerns about him, until he snaps at you. He argues with you, telling you that you wouldn’t understand. You let him yell at you until he’s done. You say nothing, and try to lean in for a hug, but he pushes you away. You tell him that you care about him, and you want to help him. You sympathize with him; you want to help him find out who he was as well. You then wish him a silent goodnight and head to your tent. You don’t see him come out of his tent the next morning.

He feels remorseful for pushing you away, but if it is what he has to do to keep you safe, then so be it. He wants to be near you, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. He tries to fall asleep quickly afterwards to avoid the guilt, but he can barely sleep thinking about you. And when slumber does take him, he’s only tortured by more gorey nightmares. And of course, they are of you.

The next day, you left to raid the goblin camp, and emerged victorious. You returned to the grove to inform Zevlor, and he rewarded you gratefully for your effort. He asked you if he and the tieflings could throw a party at your camp, and you, being the generous hero who initially saw no problem with that, accepted.

Everything was great. You were celebrating your victory. Everyone seemed to be having fun, and you mingled happily with your companions. But you noticed that someone was missing… Until you realized that you hadn’t seen Durge anywhere. You asked all your companions if they’d seen if he went somewhere, and Astarion observed that he “saw him slink into the woods.” You thanked Astarion before he could interject you, and ran off into the woods with a torch. (Unless you have darkvision.)

It wasn’t hard to find him, considering how bright his scales were, glistening in the bright moon above. He sat on a log facing away from you; to the lake, gazing at the moon. You quietly sat next to him, and he slightly flinched, as if lost in thought and then taken by surprise.

You greeted him normally, and he reciprocated.

You couldn’t bear this anymore. You admitted to yourself in the moment, you felt something intimate for him. You couldn’t bear having him push you away anymore. You wanted him to open up, so you started to confess your worries about him. You knew there was something else about him. Something diabolical, writhing within, something that he harboured inside. You wanted to help him, but you didn’t know how unless he opened up to you. You reassured him, he didn’t have to now, but you just needed to know what was happening, why he was pushing you away?

He takes a deep breath, before explaining it to you in the best way he could. He disclosed to you about the urge. Something inside of him continuously filled his head with dreadful thoughts that he seemed to be somehow desensitized to. He looked at you with fear in his eyes as he expressed how he knew, deep inside, something bad was destined to happen because of this urge, and he was frightened of it.

You inquired him; why push you away?

He hesitated before answering, but filled his words with emotion: “Because I care about you.”

He avoids eye contact, embarrassed, as you absorb his words. He expects you to get up and leave, to turn your back on him, and tell him you wish never to see him again.

Yet you lay a hand on his bare shoulder, giving him the most doting smile he’d ever seen as you comfort him. You will get through this with him, and you will get to the bottom of this.

Even as he exposes the truth of his vile nature to you, you still look at him the same way you did before. You didn’t see him as a monster. And that’s when he admitted to himself, as well, he loved you without consequence.

He’s taken aback when you lean in for a kiss, but he doesn’t pull away, his body acting on its own accord. You quickly pull away, a blush corroding your cheeks. You apologize, but before you can say anything else, he gently caresses your cheek and leans in for another kiss.

You spend a few minutes in silence together, subtly placing your hand over his as you admire the scenery of the lake together, leaning your head on his shoulder.

In this moment, he forgets about everything. The tadpole, the absolute, the fear he holds onto… Everything. But the urge is still there, always. It sickens him like a parasite dug deep into his soul, far worse than the tadpole.

You face him and smile, offering to head back to camp and get a good night’s rest. He accepts, and you walk back to camp together, hand in hand, as you spend some time in his tent reading books together, talking, or just sitting together, for a good hour or two.

You yawn, feeling drowsy, and rub your eyes. You bid him a goodnight as you walk back to your tent, and he smiles, feeling the warmth in his chest bloom, embracing it. He was still afraid of hurting you, but now, less so. He fell asleep that night dreaming about you. Not in the pleasant way most would expect, but he was used to it by now.

fin. this is probably going to be discontinued. again lmk if anyone wants to continue this for me or smth

[miudiares]

''Your hair is very soft-'' Qiu Lin x Reader

Synopsis: You're hanging out with Qiu at your house on a rainy day when you suddenly take notice of Qiu's fluffy hair

a/n: Takes place during step 2 keep in mind it's my first time writing- there will be mistakes and bad grammar /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

It's another uneventful day in Golden Grove, today was a rainy day and you found yourself in the warmth of your bedroom, laying on your bed staring at the rain droplets on your window, when suddenly you hear. . . ''AGH!! How is this level so freaking hard!?'' ah, yes...you almost forgot Qiu was here too.

You and Qiu hang out almost everyday, it's such a common occurence you've already exhausted all possible topics of conversation resolving to just doing your own thing in the company of the other without the need to say a word, not that you minded of course, Qiu was one of your favourite people, you could even say you had a tiny little crush on them but nothing big you know. .

While lost in thought your eyes suddenly fell on the back of Qiu's head, they were busy trying to beat a level of some videogame their parents gifted them at the start of summer, Qiu was so concentrated that they didn't even notice your hand slowly approaching them until they've felt it running through their hair.

They froze.

Qiu's hair was surprisingly soft! That's the first thing you thought, honestly you've always wanted to try touching it but Qiu always managed to slip away every time, you could hear a voice coming from the little console in their hands saying something among the lines of ''You've lost'' then you noticed Qiu had turned completely radio silent and their ears looked a bit red, then an evil grin started appearing on your face but you quickly turned it into an innocent smile ''Qiu your hair is so soft!'' then Qiu turned to look back at you with a pouty expression on their face ''since when did I give you permission to touch my hair?'' they didn't look angry though, but...flustered??

Oh. so this is the kind of game they wanted to play? Alright you dont mind a bit of teasing ''I can't? you didn't say anything when i touched it though'' you said poking at their cheek with your finger as they frustately stared at the wooden floor sighing in defeat '' I've never said that you CAN'T touch, but it would be nice if you warn me next time you know..'' they say, the last part was almost like a tiny whisper but you managed to catch it, noticing your eyes staring at them they decide to get back into their game, but this time laying their head onto the matress of your bed, suddenly you find yourself giving Qiu head scratches while they try to concentrate on their game, but by how red their ears are, they're not doing that good of a job, hehe~

Flustered Qiu is the best kind of Qiu, also im sorry if this sucks- I tried(╥ ω ╥)