Hopelessly Devoted to You

inspired by the infamous "i want the k" meme by deactivated tumblr user tastcful. send 🎲 to generate a kiss! potential suggestive/nsf.w themes may appear

A kiss on the cheek

A kiss on the nose

A kiss on the forehead

A kiss to the top of the head

A firm kiss

A gentle peck

A romantic kiss

A platonic kiss

A kiss to the eyelid

A kiss along the jawline

A kiss to the neck

A kiss along the collar bone

A kiss on the chest

A kiss to the stomach

A kiss along the hips

A kiss in the rain

An upside-down "Spider-Man" kiss

A kiss while laughing

A kiss underwater

A rough kiss

WILDCARD! Dealer's choice :)

A french kiss/kiss with tongue

A kiss influenced by alcohol/other substances

A sleepy kiss

A kiss that's an accident

A kiss while one or both parties are crying

A kiss in greeting

A kiss in parting

A kiss to the back of the hand

A kiss to the palm of the hand

A kiss to the inner thigh

A kiss while someone watches

A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking

A kiss after a bite

A kiss against a wall

A kiss to the shoulder

A kiss to the back of the neck

A kiss while one party is carried

A tentative kiss

An impulsive kiss

A kiss out of spite

A clumsy kiss

Ingrid received the offered cup with both hands and a murmured, “Thank you.” She settled it into her palms, feeling the heat bloom against her skin. The herbal scent was more potent now, in the steam rising from the tea, but not unpleasant.

She blew over its surface, took a tentative-yet-sizeable sip. Her eyes widened. The flavor was not so different from the smell, but more complex than she’d expected. She assessed another sip. The warmth slipped soothing down her inflamed throat.

“It’s surprisingly good, for medicine,” Ingrid decided, nodding. “I would be curious to know the recipe. If it is effective, I wonder… if it might prove helpful to share with the people of my county. With”–a hasty addition–“your permission, of course. I’ve been fortunate as the daughter of a noble house, but our people are poor and this seems a resourceful way of dealing with sickness.”

She merely smiles when Ingrid thanks her, a genuine one, so rare but becoming more common in this new land. "We are friends, are we not? Is that not what friends are for?" She had been so alone in Rigel, it was nice to have another to confide in.

Watching her tentatively called friend drank more of the tea, and for a moment it was peaceful but companionable silence. Had she ever had this with anyone before? She couldn't think of any. The ladies at Court had only shown shallow interest in her once her engagement was announced, before closing their ranks to her once again once they realized just where she had come from. But this? It was nice.

"That's why it works so well, you want to drink it." She giggled once. Had she ever done that for anyone besides Lord Berkut or her parents? Not that she could remember. "It's comprised mostly of herbs that are found in very hardy areas, like my homeland of Rigel. You could probably get it to grow in the, ummm," Oh goodness she couldn't remember what the hardy and cold of the three powers was called again, how embarrassing, "Kingdom! If I could acquire the seeds."

A reminder of the consequences of getting too involved with the kids. If the professor were to excuse herself now, the anxiety would simply eat away at the innocent youth. Or that’s what Sonya surmises. Rinea seems like the type.

Which is why after a sigh that comes out perhaps a bit too heavy, Sonya lifts up her hands. “But. Maybe I can feel more fine after a taste of your blend. Tea has always been a favorite of mine.”

That’s a lie. The mage would rather indulge in a coffee when given the chance, and that’s assuming no ale is available. But she gets the idea that neither will be as common as a cup of tea in this new land. She’s already seen way too many of the punks above sipping it up.

Might as well get used to it with a “friendly” face, before accepting her fate.

“You say it’s back in your room? Go there, and I could follow… Oh, wait. Would that be ill-advised? I can’t seem to remember…”

"I-I just want to be sure..."

Her voice fails her towards the end, and she begins fiddling with the ends of a piece of her hair, a habit from girlhood she thought she had shaken. But as the Professor speaks more, Rinea finds herself perking up more.

"Oh, for you as well? I'll bring all the fixings for a proper tea then! It was something I enjoyed often back home as well. Do you mind if I ask where you are from? There's something that reminds me of home about you, but I can't quite place it."

She considers a moment before lighting up with an idea.

"I can bring it and my supplies from my room to the common area if that's quite alright! I can meet you there and we can speak of home together! Of course, only if that's alright with you."

Rinea had heard rumors of the lady of the manor, how she treated first her pets which was horrific enough, but what really turned her stomach was the rumors of human experimentation. Memories of hands cutting, of searing flesh, of human and non human screams fill her mind, and she has to choke down a whimper. It wouldn't do to appear weak in front of her companion. She can seek comfort later. Finally turning to address the fine lady, she curtsies a bit.

"Thank you for accompanying me. I couldn't have done this on my own. I hear it is rather frightening, but you seem rather strong. We should at least know the basics about each other before we come into the thick of things. My name is Rinea, and-"

She never finishes her thought as a howl similar to a dog's but unlike any she's ever heard before rings out above the downpour. It seems they had been discovered earlier than anticipated.

"We must hurry! I daren't think of what they'd do to us if we should be caught!"

Gently but firmly shoving the lady further into the maze so they could start running from whatever made the horrific noise she just heard, she dared not even pray to the gods that they should escape. They were on their own in this godless estate.

[  pull  ]  sender  pulls  receiver  closer  to  them

[  touch  ]  sender  places  their  hand  affectionately  on  receiver

[  guide  ]  sender  helps  receiver  through  a  difficult  video  game

[  lean  ]  sender  leans  on  receiver

[  pierce  ]  sender  helps  receiver  with  a  new  piercing  (  doing,  aftercare,  etc  )

[  sit  ]  sender  sits  in  receiver’s  lap

[  spar  ]  sender  pins  receiver  down  in  a  practice  fight

[  cook  ]  sender  makes  food  for  receiver

[  slide  ]  sender  pushes  an  item  across  the  table  to  receiver

[  kiss  ]  sender  kisses  (  lips,  cheek,  forehead,  hand,  etc  )

[  lead  ]  sender  leads  receiver  someplace

[  wound  ]  sender  injures  muse  in  a  fight  (  practice  or  real  )

[  snap  ]  sender  takes  a  photo  of  receiver  (  candid  or  posed  )

[  drape  ]  sender  drapes  their  arm  around  receiver’s  shoulders

[  bullet  ]  sender  takes  a  bullet  for  receiver  (  literal  or  figurative  )

[  nap  ]  sender  falls  asleep  against  receiver

[  teeth  ]  sender  bears  teeth  at  receiver

[  trace  ]  sender  traces  one  of  receiver’s  scars

[  cocktail  ]  sender  makes  /  gives  receiver  a  cocktail

[  comfort  ]  sender  comforts  receiver  when  they  are  upset  /  crying

[  bouquet  ]  sender  surprises  receiver  with  a  bouquet

[  massage  ]  sender  gives  receiver  a  massage  (  planned,  spontaneous,  full  body,  shoulder,  etc  )

[  mentor  ]  sender  takes  muse  under  their  wing

[  tattoo  ]  sender  helps  receiver  with  a  new  tattoo  (  doing,  aftercare,  etc  )

[  dare  ]  receiver  acts  out  a  dare  from  sender

[  hug  ]  sender  pulls  receiver  into  a  hug

[  phone  ]  receiver  sees  sender  smiling  at  something  on  their  phone

[  popcorn  ]  sender  makes  popcorn  for  a  movie  night

[  wake  ]  sender  tries  to  wake  receiver

[  groom  ]  sender  tries  to  make  receiver  look  more  presentable

[  flower  ]  sender  places  a  flower  behind  receiver’s  ear

[  sad  ]  sender  looks  at  receiver  sorrowfully

[  playlist  ]  sender  curates  a  playlist

[  fashion  show  ]  sender  tries  to  help  receiver  choose  an  outfit

[  shield  ]  sender  steps  between  receiver  and  danger

[  bandage  ]  sender  helps  bandage  up  receiver’s  wounds

[  duel  ]  muses  get  into  a  fight

[  fear  ]  sender  finds  receiver  having  a  nightmare

[  hold  ]  sender  holds  receiver’s  hand

[  bruise  ]  sender  finds  receiver  with  a  bruise  /  tries  to  help  receiver  cover  up  a  bruise

[  brush  ]  sender  brushes  /  styles  /  dyes  receiver’s  hair

[  portrait  ]  receiver  paints  a  portrait  of  receiver

[  assist  ]  sender  helps  the  receiver  with  a  task  they’re  struggling  in

[  wow  ]  sender  does  something  to  really  amaze  receiver

[  glare  ]  sender  is  still  hurt  after  an  argument

[  roast  ]  muses  roast  marshmallows  together  /  make  s’mores

[  shoot  ]  muses  attend  a  game  of  paintball

[  diary  ]  receiver  writes  a  journal  entry  about  sender  (  maybe  they  find  it  ?  )

[  dance  ]  sender  whisks  receiver  onto  to  ‘  dance  floor  ’  (  can  be  actual  or  pretend  )

[  rest  ]  sender  rests  their  chin  on  receiver’s  head  /  shoulder

[  manicure  ]  sender  paints  receiver’s  nails

[  tuck  ]  sender  tucks  in  receiver’s  shirt,  hair  behind  ear,  etc

[  chin  ]  sender  lifts  receiver’s  chin  up

[  lap  ]  sender  puts  their  feet  in  receiver’s  lap

[  write  ]  receiver  writes  sender  a  note

[  play  ]  muses  play  a  board  game  /  card  game  together

[  glance  ]  receiver  catches  sender  looking  at  them

[  ill  ]  sender  takes  care  of  receiver  when  they  are  unwell

[  hearth  ]  sender  lights  a  fire

[  tap  ]  sender  taps  receiver  on  the  shoulder

[  bake  ]  muses  bake  together

[  read  ]  sender  reads  to  receiver

[  study  ]  sender  tries  to  help  receiver  study

[  push  ]  sender  pushes  receiver  in  anger

[  skill  ]  receiver  tries  to  assist  sender  in  learning  a  new  skill

[  coated  ]  receiver  finds  sender  covered  in  blood

[  gesture  ]  sender  motions  for  receiver  to  follow  them

The kettle she had put on earlier begins to scream, and Rinea stands from her position from Ingrid's side.

"I'll be right back, and I'll show you how to use it best."

Two cups of tea are made, the first made to her own preferences, the second left untouched. She returns and opens the jar, the herbal scent filling the air with a touch of the honey she used as base.

"It's meant to be consumed, but it goes down easiest when dissolved in a cup of tea. At least that's how my parents got me to take it as a little girl."

She gives a small but sadly fond smile at the mention of her parents. They must believe her and their lineage dead. There was a truth to it after all. She turns back to Ingrid.

"Its base is honey, so it should ease any soreness in your throat from coughing. I can give you the recipe if you find it agreeable. The ingredients are cheap and easy to acquire, at least in my homeland. We couldn't afford healers, so we made do ourselves."

She had been open before so there was no point in being shy with the girl now. She hands Ingrid the tea with the medicine dissolved within, and watches to make sure she drinks it.

Her lip quivers exactly once again before stilling as he wipes the tears from her face in a tenderness she hasn't seen from him before. This was the man she always knew he could be, the one she had always believed deep down in.

She waits for him to say what he wants to but it's clear the words die in his throat, but if it is what she thinks it is, she doesn't want to hear it just yet. It makes everything too real. Makes it hurt again. For now they can exist as they did. Apologies are a conversation for later.

"Let us just enjoy this moment Lord Berkut."

It seems he agrees, as hands move down to a familiar position. One she knew and loved oh so well. Her main hand laces with his, and her other finds its way to his shoulder, a natural position, from their many dances together.

She lets him lead the dance, but leans her head against his chest, and when she hears a heartbeat, she almost laughs in joy. He's truly alive, she's truly alive. They can dance again like this once again. Whether this turns out to be a curse or a blessing in the end, this one thing is a gift she can take for herself. As she looks back at him, the smile she gives is pure, unfiltered joy.

Her voice breaks and is naught more than a whimper as the tears fall freely from her eyes with no sign of stopping. She has so many things so wants to say, there's so many things they left unsaid in what was supposed to be their final farewell, but the words die in her throat. Now is a time of reunions, not rehashing the past and how he wronged her, if she even has the strength to mention that at all.

When he rose to his feet, she finds herself pulling in close on instinct before catching herself. Death already did them part once, and they never even took their vows. But her hand never leaves his, not yet wishing to part, that last connection keeping her grounded in a way she hasn't felt since she awoke in her second chance.

His hand lifts to her face and she finds herself leaning in to the comfort she is so accustomed to, her eyes never leaving his, watching his every movement, before looking away.

"I had thought you were forever walking a path I couldn't follow." Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

There was an exhaustion to him, yet he tried to brush it off. Already he knew if he had a mirror, there would no doubt be bags under his eyes. The nightmares had grown more frequent, a reason he spent hours training away. The slight hope that if he worked himself into exhaustion, his rest would be utterly dreamless.

As he hefted the lance onto his shoulder, he heard someone gasp near the door to the room. With a scowl he began to turn. "Whoever is there I am not in the mood-" He froze. Utterly still in shock, staring at the door. Memories rushed through his mind, the last time he had seen that face.

"Were you laughing along with them?"

"Berkut you're frightening me!"

"Duma! O ancient god!"

He didn't register the clattering of the lance falling from his grasp. Nor the fact he had collapsed onto his knees. Staring ahead of him, a shaking hand slowly rising.

Was this some cruel trick of the gods? Had his sleepless nights finally driven him to madness? She couldn't be here, yet she was. Right in front of him, standing at the door to the room. His lips parted, but no words could form. A breath escaped him, and finally in a breathless voice, almost like a prayer to the undeserving gods above, he spoke.

"Rinea?"

Oh, how her heart still yearned for him, even as the rational part of her mind knows he wronged her in some of the worst ways a partner can wrong another. Yet the heart wants what it wants, and her heart still wanted him and only him. Only he had noticed her at that ball all those years ago, only he had spoken to her, a house on the verge of being cast from the nobility despite his status as the Emperor's nephew. He had never made her feel less than, until that very last moment. Could a man be condemned forever over a single mistake?

It mattered not even if it did, for he was likely in a land far away. Even with this second chance, she would never see him again.

She walked the halls of the Abyss, almost consumed in her melancholy, until a figure in the training hall should catch her eye. A gasp escapes her before she can stop herself and her feet carry her before she can think to be stopped.

She doesn't register the way the lance clatters from his hand, but when he collapses to his knees, she has half a mind to run her hand through his hair as she used to, but she catches herself, but when his hand raises, she doesn't catch herself before she puts her own in his and gives it a comforting squeeze, just like she used to.

She doesn't notice the tears that gather in her own eyes, even as they spill freely or how wet her cheeks are.

"Lord Berkut? Is it... truly you?"