occasionally subtle
#extradirty
Mike Driver
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Claire Keane
Keni
⁂
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
★
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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DEAR READER
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Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
tannertan36
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@vestalround
Closed Rinea from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia! Black Eagles Student affiliated with The Officers Academy. Penned by Neku!
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Small Notes (More can be found via profile!):
i dream each night of some version of you
Those delicate fingers bidding his to cease sent his heart to stuttering - as it always had, when she had reached for his hand, either in the throng of a crowd too eager, too interested, or along the sidelines of battle, a place she knew wasn't hers but for that it was at his side, and he at hers.
He felt all the fool, all the boy, the lightness of his head dragging forth the softest exhalation, a chuckle, a relief.
The words almost came out of him, that confirmation that he was the man she sought, hesitant only that he knew exactly the parts of him that were missing, those abscesses carved from him through death and through the relife pressed upon him.
After a moment, gently, he dipped his head down to press his fore to hers; it might have been a long time before he was the man that he had once been, but that he was hers was never in question.
"I am. I am here."
And so, too, was she. It was impossible to see for the darkness, no tapers to light and no flint to light them - and though the moon hung high in the sky that night, Berkut could not bring himself to draw the curtains back and let her shine upon them.
If there were to be eyes upon them, then let them adjust, just as his did.
The thought brought a shiver up his spine, and he tugged Rinea further inward, pressing the door closed behind them.
"You've come here…alone?" He could not help the rise in his tone, that flutter of indignation at the thought, but the unwillingness to address the whys or wherefores. "You are unhurt, aren't you? If anything happened to you, I'd…"
He was here. Her fingers that barely fail to interlock with the other are of his own. His speech - both of their speeches - are so short, yet so profound.
As such previously, Rinea allows Berkut to lead her through the dark. His tug is strong…hold on, no it isn’t. The lord who had directed her by his side, who had taken command of their delightsome dances…he had a much stronger pull than this.
As the door shuts close and the outside air thins, she can feel his gaze return to her face. Berkut’s words quicken alongside a raised tone. It almost feels aggressive, even though she knows it comes from a gentle place.
“Shh…” Rinea weakly hums to slow her beloved’s train of thought. She moves her hands onto his shoulders now. Quite a reach, but one she has grown used to and look forward to. It makes her easily seen, even in this corner where light fails to reach them.
“I am unharmed. They cared for my…recovery for however many moons have passed. From there, I followed their instruction to find you, and well…”
The right finisher would be an uplifting “here I am!” But Rinea cannot find the energy to so easily ignore her wistfulness. Her hands begin to massage Berkut’s sides, nearing on squeezing his joints. They still feel moderately weak…though she isn’t one to speak of weakness.
“I came alone, yes,” she continues. “I’ve ensured there were no followers from when I departed the monastery. That…is where I have been assigned.”
green hill is looking more like snow hill rn
mission board: anniversary (heavy armor+1)
“Through here! Quickly!”
Rinea is cowardly enough to secure a spot under the rocky cover before turning back to call for her instructor. She was paired with the lady to take on some mission around these hills - something about…surveillance? The reason mattered little to the noble student, honestly.
All that Rinea cared for was that her faith professor needed the help. It’s undignified, in a sense. Wanting to help a person, her superior no less, that she knew little about so extremely. But as one of her primary instructors, the purple-haired woman has been nothing but kind to her.
It is said willingness to be kind that strikes Rinea with dismay as she watches the other remain under the cold. Though the flurry that began only seconds ago…its bitterness reminded the Rigelian of her home’s chilly climates. A harsh environment that spared no one from its wrath.
It was too much to recollect all at one. Rinea picked the safer option and found shelter underneath one of the mountains.
When she consciously realizes her careless sin, Rinea takes a few steps deeper into the cavern. Enough for her professor to comfortably slip away from the pounding snows.
“You’re not too chilled, are you Miss…?” she asks with a second stage of guilt thanks to her bounded memory. A new ally, and she cannot even manage to recall her name?
@nagaficat
[ 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room
While Sakura kept herself occupied with her usual mansions, she felt a new presence wondering around the main hall of the church and as she rose her visage, a delicate gaze locked with hers; it somewhat was distant but tender, a strange feeling coming from the stomach, but Sakura couldn't help but smile at the cross of their gazes.
She looks so pretty and elegant, she thought to herself as she skecthed a smile in response to that glance.
the five sense | still accepting!
Only a fleeting moment in the church will be all she can muster. Nothing more, and most certainly any less.
It only goes hand in hand with the establishment being a monastery, but the cathedral manages to be quite lively. Student and adult alike are taking part in prayer - some not affiliated with the academy. A few are even practicing choir on the side; an activity she’d almost be willing to partake in if it wasn’t for the expansive audience.
Also, Rinea has no voice to back up a religious choir.
…
This was a mistake. She shouldn’t be wandering in here.
Though before she can make the turn and scurry back onto the bridge, her eyes accidentally lock with another. A shorter woman with head of cherry pink, she stands right under the statue as she stares back at Rinea. And the two continue to stare for a moment, then two.
Until at last, the faraway figure shows a smile. In her church-sanctioned daze, Rinea has not realized the concerned expression that must be plastered on her face. Did the other find her gaze…funny? Intriguing? Pathetic?
She still is standing in the center of the church bustle. If she remains still any longer, the staff may get suspicious. No gain from letting that happen.
But she graces her viewer with a brief, if not hidden smile back as she retreats properly. If kind-looking people can stand within these holy halls…perhaps she can make another visit. In the next week or so, at least.
i dream each night of some version of you
It had been her voice that he had been waiting for, and even still it took him aback. If he were being completely honest, Berkut had not expected for those foulest in the corners of his periphery to hold up their end of the bargain, that he might dirty his hands to keep theirs uncannily white in exchange for them to bring her back to him.
The softness of her words clipped through the rickety door, and it took every ounce of his self-restraint to call out, "You may," and not to rip open the final barrier to seeing her once more, at long last.
When she did enter, that self-restraint melted from him instantly, no longer the façade of patience, of regal indifference; his long legs ate the distance immediately and he crushed her to him immediately, bringing his hand to cradle her head, to bury his head into her hair as though the soft scent of her might have made it all worth it.
After a moment, naught but the creak of the wind in the eaves and the hammering of his heart beating a desperate tattoo against his chest, he withdrew.
"Look at you," he breathed, fingers grazing against her cheeks - taking in every detail that he had long remembered, terrified that he had long forgot. "It's…it is truly you, isn't it? My Rinea…"
She abides to the answer, taking a few steps past the poor excuse of a barrier. It’s somehow darker inside than it was out, not even moonlight present to contrast the night sky. But she doesn’t need to see whoever lurks inside, as she can feel who awaits from within her heart.
With the sound of sudden footsteps,she can feel that person physically as well. One hand placed upon her back to hold her close, and another around her head to nestle her face. His own face settles to rest within her hair momentarily. It’s all so…familiar. So intimate.
Where his heart beats and almost dominates the room’s sound outside of their breathing, Rinea’s own heart swirls. Beating, yes, but practically churning and threatening to leap out of her chest.
As with the embrace, she does not deny the fingers that run over her cheeks. She rolls with the touches, turning her head as they push her. It makes looking him right in the eye difficult, even after his tender pokes have resided. But the hesitance in his tone is what encourages her to finally stare deep into those dark eyes.
It may prove challenging to truly see, though she doesn’t need to see to know the touch of who is in front of her.
“Yes. It’s…Rinea,” the lady places both hands on the hand that’s stopped running on her cheek. It feels pathetic, what she’s about to ask. But she must be sure. Like a child with a pathetic retention of memory, she wants to hear the same.
“And you? Are my Lord Berkut?”
[ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sweet
Lysithea's always been used to new mages showing up to the different lectures, in or out of house. It's a pattern at this point - some new kid comes in, thinking they've got it all figured out, and then leaves eventually.
A bitter cycle, so Lysithea never really thinks about who she's classed with.
Except this new girl.
OH MY GODDESS SHE'S LIKE A BUNDLE OF TWIGS.
Lysithea herself was on the frailer side herself, as were most mages, but... goodness! Lysithea had to do something! It wouldn't be good form to be the second mage here to drop dead early!
So, with a little quick slight of hand... Lysithea lays a small truffle onto her desk. Not one of the ornate ones. Not an overdone one. Not even one of the opened ones (should she have opened it? Does she even have the strength to get the chocolatey goodness from it?)
All Lysithea can do is watch as she comes back to her desk. Hopefully she doesn't think she poisoned it or anything like that...
the five senses | still accepting!
She only needs a temporary step outside the classroom. They were on temporary break, although she only ended up pacing from a nearby tree and back into class. There was nothing more that Rinea had to see, or wanted to see.
Though when she returns to the room and glides back to her front-row seat, there’s something seated atop the desk. It’s encased in some sort of wrapping…a present? For her? Who could see worth in gifting an unfamiliar person, let alone without any source of the giver? Perhaps they chose the wrong desk…then again, Rinea is now curious.
It takes more seconds than she’d like to admit to undo the wrapping. Once freed, the object reveals itself to be a light brown confectionary. Now Rinea has to tilt her head in confusion. These chocolates…were they not rare back in her home country? Are they common enough to be given as simple treasures here? And what could the purpose of it all b-
One sniffs, then two. There aren’t any rules for a mid-class snack, are there? The professor is still out for the next few moments…
Rinea bites a part of the tiny chocolate with delicacy. Some chews, and then she decides to go for another small bite. Some chews, and…alright, it should be little enough that this won’t be so rambunctious.
Once the food is little more than half its initial size, she pops the rest into her mouth. It melts easily, providing a refined yet sweet taste. Rinea pulls out a handkerchief, making sure that no stray chocolate is near her smile-filled mouth.
…is it just her, or did she overhear a sigh of relief from over her shoulder?
every new black eagle is of interest to her — another classmate, another ally, another friend.
dorothea trails curiously, hands clasped behind her back as she observes the girl with interest. ( pretty hair. pretty face. seems like the soft-spoken type, considering how she keeps to herself. )
"have you managed to find your room?" she calls out, quickening her steps to approach with a welcoming smile. "the dormitories can be rather daunting to navigate at first glance. i'd be happy to help out if you're lost." a beat. "i'm dorothea. and your name-?"
There’s eyes on her again. She can always tell when someone is trying to stare right through her, trying to cleave to her heart.
Though all the same, these eyes are not the same daggers that she is used to. For one, they are the ones that she has felt since the tail end of her first day of classes. They fail to be the gaze of a tiger on the hunt…but rather, the gaze of a well-fed, eager cat.
That is why Rinea does not fully jump at the call of the songlike voice…though she cannot help but give a meek hop still. She begins to turn only for the hatted student to already be beside her.
Cutting off easy escape. But Rinea does find the need to escape. Those evergreen eyes and passionate smile…she’s seen this woman before, in those classes.
A classmate shouldn’t be one to betray her. Rinea decides to be careful…but comply.
“My name? Rinea,” she returns the name greeting with her own, only to add a slight curtsy with it. She does not know if flourishes like these are foreign to the setting, yet it only feels natural to give to one so willing to help. “It is nice to meet you, Dorothea…”
When her bow is finished, Rinea returns one hand to her side as the other slides under her cheek. Her eyes thin in uneasiness. “I would rather not be a bother, though I must admit I now find myself lost. The noble quarters…they’re on the second floor, yes? I’ve only visited them once before classes. How can stairs recede from my memory so easily…?”
She shakes her head. “I fear I sound ravening, but might you be fine giving a full tour? Everything is so new to me…and it would be comforting to go through it with you,” a smile finally slips before she parts her lips. “Ah! Only if your time is allotted for it, of course.”
🌙 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 ( prompts for the five senses. add [reversed] to reverse the action. feel free to change wording as needed & add details )
𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇.
[ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver’s shoulders [ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 ] ― sender and receiver fall into bed together on silk sheets [ 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender pulls receiver’s hair ( gently / hard ) [ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 ] ― sender strokes receiver’s hair [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender brushes receiver’s hair [ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender paints a picture onto part of receiver’s body ( specify what & where ) [ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender traces their fingertips over receiver’s body [ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body [ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 ] ― sender reaches out to hold receiver’s hand [ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ] ― sender worships receiver’s body
𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄.
[ 𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver something they’ve never tried before ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sour ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sweet ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender feeds receiver something spicy ( specify what ) [ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender kisses receiver to taste the lingering flavour of what they ate or drank on their lips ( specify what ) [ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood [ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver soup when they’ve fallen ill [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] ― sender makes receiver a cocktail to try [ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender cooks receiver their favourite meal [ 𝐓𝐑𝐘 ] ― sender gives receiver a taste of what they’re cooking / baking for their opinion
𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.
[ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 ] ― sender blindfolds receiver [ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver see each other again after a period of being apart [ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender notices something different about receiver ( injury / haircut / tattoo / piercing / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender greets receiver in formal partywear ( feel free to add detail ) [ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 ] ― sender takes receiver to see lanterns in the sky [ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender and receiver lay under the stars to stargaze [ 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room [ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender and receiver see a shadow move out the corner of their eye [ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ] ― sender and receive watch as something burns ( candles / a building / a campfire / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender takes receiver to the aquarium to watch the sea life [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ] ― sender recognises receiver at a masquerade party
𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.
[ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ― sender puts on the radio to listen to music with receiver [ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ] ― sender plays receiver their favourite song on an instrument ( specify what ) [ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ] ― sender and receiver are in bed together while rain lashes against the windows / tent / etc [ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender whispers something in receiver’s ear ( specify what ) [ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender asks receiver for a dance upon hearing a song [ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver hear a sound when they should be alone ( footsteps / creaking floorboards / a scream / etc ) [ 𝐇𝐔𝐌 ] ― sender hums a lullaby to lull receiver to sleep [ 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 ] ― sender comforts a temporally deaf receiver after a loud sound ( gunshot / explosion / etc ) [ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌 ] ― sender calms receiver down from a panic attack in a loud place [ 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender and receiver hear a muffled sound from another room / outside ( music / people / creature / etc ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender hears receiver crying and approaches comfort them
𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋.
[ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 ] ― sender puts a scented bath bomb into receiver’s bath [ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 ] ― sender lights a scented candle for receiver [ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender puts perfume / aftershave on receiver’s ( wrist / neck / cheek ) [ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender inhales receiver’s scent [ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊 ] ― sender is drawn to the kitchen by receiver’s cooking [ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ] ― sender steals an item of receiver’s clothes because it smells like them [ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender notices receiver smells of their shampoo / shower gel [ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender gives receiver flowers [ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender helps clean receiver after a long day / stressful situation [ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver walk through the sewers to escape capture / avoid detection / chase someone [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender massages receiver with a scented oil
i dream each night of some version of you
starter for @vestalround
The night was all the colder for the waiting.
He was not accustomed to being made to wait - not as commander, driving to the very front line at the first hint of conflict, or to sortie and gather intelligence, to see what lay before his men with his own eyes; and certainly not as prince, he who could snap his fingers and find a slurry of attendants to his beck and call.
Idly, Berkut lifted his fingers, and snapped, frowning at how hollow the sound carried against the walls of the cottage, absorbed by the damp timber and the silence of the wood around him, as though sucked into the darkness.
He wasn't pacing, merely standing to stretch his legs, picking up and setting down long abandoned knick-knacks of whichever bumpkin had left this hovel long abandoned. Perhaps they were dead - it might have explained the suddenness of the tableaux, books opened on an end table, dishes with crumbs not yet pilfered by the mice that scurried within the walls. It wasn't a dire scene, merely…unfinished, waiting its punctuation to bring the long note to rest.
His eyes raked over a mirror, hung on the far wall, draped in a fine curtain of grime from who knows how many long weeks, months, years? of abandonment, and though he could not see himself in it, he raised a hand to his hair regardless. Though it lacked its usual shine, Berkut knew well that his hair would not be the thing unrecognizable: lost a stone to the earth, his skin sallow, his eyes darker and deeper within his skull, it twisted his face into a distasteful sneer at the thought of what he'd become.
A shambling corpse, a distorted memory of the great man he'd been.
Had wanted to be.
A shift, the creak and crack of kindling underfoot, and Berkut's eyes flashed, alert and alive once more.
"Who's there?"
Exit the monastery, enter town. Then tread on the path lowest and least taken until the tower is out of sight. Then you will find him.
Those were the final few words she was provided with before being dumped onto the Fódlan mainland. A set of instructions, those that would make little sense for someone like her, who held zero knowledge on the structure of Garreg Mach.
But Rinea needed to solve the riddle now rather than later. She knew how much he hated waiting, after all.
The first night was nothing short of inadequate. In her lack of insight, she left the academy much too early, evening not night. The streets were much too crowded to get any exploring done, as a single glance in her direction and she was certain that slipping away would be impossible. Some knights have already seen her depart once tonight…it would have to wait for tomorrow, then.
A reset on the situation the second night, and Rinea was comfortably walking down a declining road. The slide downward allowed her to comfortably incase herself within the shadows. If she wasn’t vowed a reconciliation here, she would be none the wiser in stumbling upon fishy business.
But the “tower” she keeps turning toward escapes her vision at last, and what remains in front of her is a storied cottage. It actually appears warm in spite of its oldness…though its oldness is what causes the planks to release a loud creak! upon stepping.
A rough, mature voice practically growls through the door. Rinea nearly feels the temptation to turn tail and retreat. His voice…she has not heard that voice in years. How does he expect her to speak back?
Honestly, calling the door a door is quite sad. It barely stands strong enough to remain shut, let alone stand in general. Yet the noblewoman calls back on her etiquette nonetheless. She gives the door then gentlest of knocks - only for it to partially swivel open anyway. Well.
“May I enter?”
Rinea almost chokes over the request, though she prays he has not forgotten the sound of her own voice. Only then could she allow herself to come in.
The night is a cold one to stand outside for.
neku will never write another noble mus- *spits cereal*
