🦉🪾𝓝𝓮𝓼𝓽🪶 🪺

it had been a gift from the skies that Dusekkar had even chosen to mentor you of all people.

Yet, he saw in you what nobody else seemed to see—a hunger for learning, an eagerness to understand why something worked the way that it did instead of just how.

After he took you under his wing, he spent almost every moment of his free time teaching you everything he knew about the arcane. 

He does tend to ramble quite a bit, though.

“Oh, little spark, that does remind me! Have I ever regaled to you the tale about—“

Despite how quickly he tends to get sidetracked, Dusekkar is a very attentive mentor and picks up on your mood rather quickly 

Whenever you’re zoning out or working too late, he’ll use his staff to create a gentle gust of wind to pull you back down to earth so he can make you take a break or eat something

He calls you little spark, lightning bug, firefly, apprentice, emberling, and starlight 

He likes wrapping you up in his robe when you’re cold :)

He’ll oftentimes let you tie things like ribbons or bows around the tines of his antlers and won’t take them off unless they’re becoming a nuisance/snagging on things

he loves keeping little trinkets that remind him of you, even if they’re not particularly useful

You smiled at him and explained that you’d come to the dungeon to observe the behaviors and habits of the monsters in it.

You told him that you were currently trying to observe the colony habits of Big Bats, if they were any different in the dungeon than they were on the surface.

My god this man has never warmed up to someone so quickly.

I imagine you two met a little bit before Falin was eaten 

To be completely honest, you were one of the first people to pop into his head when they were preparing to head back down into the dungeon

He begged the others to let you tag along— “They know so much about monsters! They’d be a big help!”

Chilchuck and Marcille were dubious. They weren’t sure they could handle two monster enthusiasts in one party. 

However, they eventually agreed because… Laios had a point. Maybe you’d be able to help them figure out how to defeat the Red Dragon. 

Friends to lovers? Sure why not. 

You fell first, he fell harder, but he didn’t realize it for forEVER. 

You guys could literally talk for HOURS about monsters but gods does he love listening to you talk. Half the time, he won’t even fully be paying attention, he’ll just watch the way your eyes light up and the way you gesticulate with your hands when you talk about the imitative patterns of species like dryads and mimics. 

Plus, you’re the only one who seems to genuinely care about his own tangents 

He doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s being romantic, he just thinks he’s being a good friend.

… if being a good friend meant sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the late hours of the night, reading his monster guide together with your faces so close you were practically sharing breath. 

It is literally painful for the others to watch— and even Chilchuck, who has been especially vocal about in-party romance being a bad idea, can’t bear to watch you two being so OBVIOUSLY SMITTEN FOR EACH OTHER. 

It legitimately gets to the point where you two start stealing bits off food off each others’ plates and the other will just affectionately roll their eyes at the little mischievous smile the other gives them

This would eventually all come to a head when you— utterly smitten for this handsome nerd— sat Laios down while the others were off gathering ingredients for soup.

“Laios, I need to tell you something. It’s really important. I like you.”

He’d smile that charming, kind smile at you. “Oh, I like you too! You’re probably one of my best friends and I really enjoy how we can talk about monsters together an—…”

You place your hands on his shoulders. Or, rather, his Pauldrons. “Laios, no. I— I like you. Like—“

His brows tick in a furrow as he watches your cheeks begin to flush.

“Laios. I’m in love with you.”

Oh.

“I…”at first, he doesn’t know what to say, but as you begin to profusely apologize and pull away, he reaches out and grabs your hands before he can even think better of it.

“I like you too.” The words come out softer than they usually would have, but with you? He doesn’t mind it. “You… don’t think I’m weird when I start talking about monster stuff. You… gosh, you engage with it. You’re so smart about that kind of stuff and I love talking with you…”

He swallows hard and looks at you with those amber eyes that had you smitten whole. “I love you.”

You smile at him and lace your fingers with his own. “I’m glad.”

Chilchuck was agitated.

More than he usually was, at least. 

A trap on one of the lower levels of the dungeon had nearly killed the lot of you because Laios hadn’t been listening to what the picklock had said… and stepped on a switch tile that nearly fried him, Marcille, and Senshi like tempura. 

So, now, here he sat. Not talking to anyone, cleaning and re-greasing his lock picks, and chewing on a piece of kraken jerky that Senshi had been curing for a few days now. It was salty, tough to chew— but Chilchuck didn’t mind. It kept his jaw working for long enough to  burn off the tension he had stored up in the past couple hours.

You, however, had noticed how his shoulders were drawn up towards his ears— you always did. You always picked up on the little tells he had, the ones he schooled himself so hard to hide.

Though… he supposed the fact he was literally sitting on his bag facing away from the campfire, and thus, the rest of the party, was telling enough. Especially since you decided to  come up right beside him, practically leaning over his shoulder. 

“… What do you want?” Chilchuck looked up from his lockpicks, his brows knit together as he looked up at you, halfway confusion and halfway annoyance, the way he might regard a particularly stumping trap layout. The piece of jerky he was chewing on hung between his teeth at the corner of his mouth like a stubborn cigar, his words were slightly muffled by it. 

Silence hung for a moment, and before he could say anything else, you lurched forward and bit the other end of the jerky hanging out of his mouth. 

“nghff-?!” The noise punched from him as his teeth involuntarily clenched harder on the end he was biting on. For a moment, he just stared at you with a wide-eyed, slightly bewildered expression.

A beat of silence as you looked at him— face just a short breadth away from his— with that stupid goddamn smirk, the other end of the jerky caught between your own teeth.  

“… what the hell are you doing,” Chilchuck grumbled finally. 

“I wanted some jerky,” you replied, voice too damn casual to be the truth.

“And you couldn’t ask Senshi for some?”

“I could, but this is more fun.”

“Fun.” Chilchuck deadpanned at you like you had just told him the sky was green and yet… he didn’t pull away. Not yet.

You jerked your head back a little, eliciting another shocked noise from Chilchuck as he instinctively mirrored the motion. “Let it go!” He almost shouted through his teeth. “‘S mine!”

His temper nearly flared as you laughed at him. “I don’t see your name written on it,” you teased in that sing-songy tone that always made his ears burn (in annoyance? In fluster? He didn’t care to identify it). 

“It’s in my mouth!” Chilchuck shot back, nose wrinkling up as he pulled back harder on the jerky. You, however, seemed to take that as a challenge and yanked it harder. 

As he twisted his head to try and rip the jerky from between your teeth, you nearly yelped as it snapped down the middle with a *rip!* 

The two of you sat in silence for a good four seconds before Chilchuck huffed out a little laugh despite himself. “What’s wrong with you, huh?” He reached over and lightly shoved your shoulder, watching as you grinned as bright as the sun at him. Skies above, his heart did a little flip in his chest every time he saw it. 

And— despite it all… he found himself a bit lighter than before. 

A couple paces away, Laios, Marcille, and Senshi watched the moment with varying expressions.

“They’re so obvious,” Marcille almost hissed like she was reading one of her slow-burn romance novels. 

Laios, bless him and all his inability to read a room, frowned and looked over at Marcille “… about what?” He asked, looking over at the mage. “They just kinda… fought like dogs over the jerky…”

Senshi, on the other hand, was leagues less subtle. “Ah, the joys of young love, Laios!” He bellowed, the corners of his round eyes crinkling as he then looked at the two of you. “You’re smitten for them, aren’t ya, Chilchuck?”

That got Chilchuck tense again.

“WE’RE NOT—!” His voice rose nearly an entire octave in pitch. “J-just MIND YOUR DAMN BUSINESS ALREADY!” He exclaimed, chucking the rag he had been using to clean his tools at Senshi. 

You, however, didn’t miss the way his ears and cheeks burned red.

You never missed a single one of his tells. 

Doombringer — “Cold Outside”

(575 words)

It was a wonderful day in Robloxia. The skybox was clear and the breeze seemed especially pleasant— although it was a bit colder than you would have liked. You had been sitting on the back steps that led out to the garden behind the Hall of the Admins— a large granite building that seemed older than time itself and nearly touched the clouds, yet pristine and untouchable. 

You had been working away on whatever it was you did in your spare time— writing, drawing, crocheting, coding— and you had been at it for quite some time now. Your wrists and fingers had begun to cramp up and protest with every movement. Maybe you should invest in some nice gloves or braces…

Though, you had felt something before your thoughts could get away from you.

A rough, callused hand nudged at the back of your shoulder and a familiar voice broke you from your reverie. 

“Hey.” It was Doombringer. “You doin’ alright? Your hands’re shaking.”

You turned slightly to look at him over your shoulder— needing to crane your neck a little to do so even somewhat properly. His imposing figure cast a shadow over you, the sunlight behind his horns almost making him look angelic. 

You gave a little smile and nodded at Doom, but he didn’t seem quite convinced.

“Y’ sure?” He rumbled after a moment, leaning down towards you. “‘S a bit nippy out here. I could grab you a blanket o-or a jacket if you want me to…”

You insisted you were alright, and— all the same— Doom took one of your hands, frowning that snaggle-toothed frown that you could recognize from a mile away. “Starlight, your hands are freezing…” 

Just as you opened your mouth up to speak again, Doom was already scooping you up under his arm like a sack of rice— an action that took him literally no effort whatsoever. “Nope, nah-ah. You’re gonna catch a cold if I leave you out here any longer.”

Your legs dangled uselessly behind you, arms clutching what you were working on against your chest so you wouldn’t drop it. Doombringer sure has an odd way of expressing fondness, you thought to yourself, blinking up at the bucket-helmet-clad man holding you against his side as he walked back inside the Hall and entered the (surprisingly, empty) common room.

“Dunno why you even decided to sit out there when it’s that breezy out,” he scolded you gently, his voice a low rumble as he brushed his knuckles against your flushed, cold cheek. He sat you on one of the couches with little ceremony and settled beside you with a little groan, slinging his free arm around the back of the couch and letting one hand rest on your shoulder. “Honestly, I’d think you knew better than to sit out in the cold with no jacket like some… careless idiot.”

He turned his head to look at you, and he didn’t miss the little smile playing at your lips or the fond look in your eyes as you listened to him talk. “Unless… you were just bein’ stubborn to get me to take care of ya, shorty?”

The grin that broke out upon your face told him all he needed to know. “Tch, little hellion.” He used his free hand— the one practically slung around your shoulders— to poke you in the cheek as if reprimanding you. 

(There wasn’t actually any malice in the action.)

Tarabyte — “Masterpiece”

(502 words)

How did you even get into this situation?

You thought to yourself as you laid sprawled upon Tarabyte’s lap, her elbows weighed upon your middle as she worked on something in her sticker-clad sketchpad. The two of you were sitting in the common room. 

“Don’t move, I’m almost done,” Tara almost hissed— though the sharpness in her voice was more concentration than annoyance— as you shifted to sit up. Her brows were pinched and she bit her lower lip as she drew… whatever it was she was drawing, her colorful eyes flicking up to look at you occasionally— her rainbow equalizer shades propped up at the top of her hairline. 

When you asked her what she was drawing, anyways, she only grinned at you— little particles of glitter that clung to her face like freckles glimmering under the light. “You’ll see, treasure. Just gimme a little longer, ‘kay?” She answered, a little lilt of anticipation and excitement in her voice.

You nodded in response, unable to help the little smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. 

After some time, Tara looked at you again. “Hey, can you just—” she hooked one finger under your jaw, tilting your head to the side. The gesture was so gentle that it nearly made you freeze, and as Tara tilted your head to the side, she tracked the curve of your jawline with her fingers— frowning thoughtfully as if trying to figure something out.

“M’kay, I think I got it. Thank you,” she murmured before returning to her sketchpad.

You watched her draw for some time longer, the only sound filling the quiet room being the scratch of Tara’s pencil against paper, the occasional hum she let out, or the sound of your own breathing. Though— it was a silence you strangely didn’t feel obligated to fill, it was just nice to watch the usually scatterbrained and busy-bee admin so concentrated. It was nearly fascinating.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Tara took a deep breath and smiled pridefully at her work. She shifted a little bit, one hand coming under the small of your back to help you into a sitting position, tilting her sketchpad to show you what she had drawn.

There upon the page were a few sketches of… you. Your face from different angles, different expressions, and even a full-body sketch of an outfit Tara saw you wear once.

A hitched breath left you as you reached up and touched your face— almost shocked that your features could be captured so accurately. 

Tara noticed your reaction and grinned slightly, tilting her head to catch the look on your face in more clarity. “You like ‘em?” Her voice was nearly tight with giddiness. 

She barely had time to react as you nodded quickly and threw your arms around her, whispering a tiny ‘thank you’ as you buried her face into her rainbow scarf.

“Yeah,” she chuckled, the hand on the small of your back tugging you even closer. “No problem, sunshine.”

Shedletsky — “Sparring Mishap”

Cw: brief mention of throwing up, injury

(528 words)

The wind whistled and whirled around you and Shedletsky as you stood upon the central pillar in SFOTH. You had been begging him for weeks to spar with you, just once! You wanted to show him that your swordsmanship had improved, wanted to bring your skills to the next level—

And who was Shedletsky to deny his favorite mortal? 

So, here he was now. Much to his surprise, you had been holding your own surprisingly well— a cocky grin and a wild, competitive glint in your eyes that he recognized— it was one he saw in the reflection of his own blade when he was younger, untamed and reckless.

He would go easy on you, that’s what he said. He couldn’t bear to see you hurt. 

Though, as the blades of your Linked Swords locked together in a two-way struggle to disarm the other— the look in your eyes distracted Shedletsky, and his strength seemed to get away from him. Before he could register that he had stopped holding back, even if it was just for a moment, your sword went flying across the pillar and skittered on the ground a few feet away from you, his own blade lurched forward…

And caught you square in the cheek.

Oh, skies above, no.

As you staggered back with a yelp and clutched your cheek, Shedletsky stood— stunned— before dropping his sword, dashing forward, and grabbing your wrists with frantic, shaking hands. “Oh, skies— birdy, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean for that to happen, I-!!”

And then? You laughed. 

Still bleeding, still injured, you laughed.

Shedletsky thought he was going to throw up. He inhaled a trembling breath, exhaling an uncertain laugh of his own as he sat you down with him. “You alright?” He asked, attempting to keep his tone somewhat light despite the fact he just had a mini-aneurysm. 

You nodded with that same, stupid grin on your face, before almost automatically launching into a rambling rant about how cool that was… And Shed could only nod absently. “Yeah, cool,” he mumbled as he reached for a first aid kit that he was suddenly very glad to have brought along.

He patched you up quickly and efficiently, and once you noticed the fond— if not slightly worried— look in his eyes, you paused and tilted your head as if to ask him what was on his mind.

“You nearly scared the feathers off me, tiny,” he answered in a sighing breath. “I thought I hurt you worse than this.” He brushed a thumb along your freshly-bandaged wound. 

His shoulders slumped a little bit as he regarded you with an unreadable expression. “You did good, though,” he admitted softly, shifting so he was sitting properly on the ground across from you. “Most noobs fold like a lawn chair even when ‘m holding back.”

Your expression twisted with something like feigned offense. Was he implying that you were a noob?!

“Y’know, not to say that you’re a noob,” he added quickly with a much-less-forced laugh, noticing your little pout. 

He grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Though, maybe one day you’ll be able to face off with me for real.”

~~~