greeniris
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That finger in Jahoda’s hair, twirling and twirling. She let her hand fall to the table, unwittingly resting over Nefer’s own. Such a strange vulnerability, to seek her out so unknowingly, connected between saltshaker and dewy water glass.
Nefer turned the flat of her hand over, sliding their palms together. Synthetic fiber under warm, bare skin. Jahoda paused in her distracted rattling, eyes tripping over tablecloth and dinnerware to meet the join of their hands, then lurched her gaze, swiftly, to Nefer’s face. Like she’d been caught doing something uncouth, too barefaced to hide that hitch of uncertainty.
Nefer raised a brow. To goad or to challenge, she let Jahoda decide. Let her agonize over the intent of her own actions with a look of pure panic that did very little to occlude the appetite that flitted beneath. Jahoda cleared her throat, hiding her flush behind the ball of her fist as she swiped a thumb across Nefer’s wrist, dug in with the nail, held a little tighter.
Or, Jahoda nestled well among the particulars of Nefer's life, this trust a constant, bleeding thing.
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Jahoda smelled as she always did: strawberry and cyclamen, spun sugar and the faintest note of oil from prosthetic maintenance. She stopped them short before Nefer’s door, dropping her grip around Nefer’s waist to hassle with the crowded key ring.
“Give me a second, Boss. I’ve got you,” Jahoda said, so quiet, a rather welcome gentleness.
Temperate winds coursed through with the runoff of vendor savor, and so, too, the indelible tang of Nefer’s blood. She teetered at the recall, jaw clamping down in roused disdain, catching herself with a tightened cinch around Jahoda’s neck. Nefer lolled into her nearby slouch, and pressed her nose flush to the shell of Jahoda’s ear, breathing gone ragged for the briefest of moments.
A balm. Strawberry—sweet, sweet, sweet. Jahoda promptly dropped the keys between her feet.
“Shoot, sorry.”
Or, Jahoda always did house an unassuming reliability; and something much sweeter.
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“You’ve been looking at me,” Stelle said at last—quiet, voice so terribly small.
Kafka raised a brow, straightening out of her slouch. Her stomach churned with something anticipatory, altogether unknowing. “I’m always looking at you.”
“No… well, yes—” Stelle shook her head, outward stoicism toppled with a sigh. She turned to face Kafka, gravitating so closely their noses nearly brushed. “I mean you’ve been looking at me. Touching me. Toying with me.”
For all the ruminating Kafka had lost herself in, that final assertion—rasped with retracted eagerness—sent a bolt of thrill straight through her. Kafka blinked, feeling at once so visible. Had anyone ever looked at her this way?
A heady train of the eye, the subtle part of Stelle’s lips, pearly teeth just behind. A confession so bold in its silence.
Or, Stelle is an anomaly, a novelty yet undiscerned. Kafka can hardly tear herself away.
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When Sara was but a fledgling, sable hair adorned with nettles of the pine, she knew well the upper limits of the sky. Vague memories of a mother who sang to herald the morning—a throaty trill, a crow’s caw with the body of a human hymn—and a father who taught her to be steadfast and true… they’d all left her in smoke.
Sara returns from a mission, dazed and badly injured. Ei patches her up.
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“You were planning to die.”
It wasn’t so much the words that caught Mavuika off guard, but the short way Xilonen said them. As if she’d come to terms with the gnarly truth some time ago. Warred with it nightly, let it curdle and harden until at last she spat it out.
Mavuika blinked, tightening her grip, suddenly afraid, of all things, that Xilonen might walk away. “Yes.”
Or, there might be a few things left unsaid between them.
Recent bookmarks
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We, After Everything by BitterGoblin
Fandoms: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
08 Nov 2024
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Secrets are just one of many things sabotaging Aerith’s relationships, even if she doesn’t quite realize the extent of it. Tifa, too, has her problems, but most stem from a single core that she can’t seem to identify. Or maybe doesn’t want to. It’s okay, though, they’ll help each other figure it out. It’s not like there’s anything else pressing in on them.
(A collection of Aerti moments along the journey to save the planet, Kalm to calm. Written with the events of Remake in mind, loosely follows OGC story beats.)
Series
- Part 1 of "We, After Everything" continuity
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 162,376
- Chapters:
- 33/33
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- 886
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- 1,007
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Bookmarked by greeniris
18 May 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
Incredible characterization and slow burn I’m blushing giggling kicking my feet
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From the Shadows by Ophelia_Black
Fandoms: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
16 Nov 2022
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The Shadow Invasion left wounds across both Hyrule and the Twilight Realm, and neither Zelda nor Midna are eager to face the task of binding them up. Old prejudices and weaknesses are laid bare, and the idea is posed of reuniting the two realms to prosper together. Is their plan a folly born of desperation, or the most revolutionary undertaking either kingdom has seen in centuries?
Bookmarked by greeniris
31 Mar 2021
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Prize Catch by Carrogath
Fandoms: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
23 May 2022
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Leonie has a hard time explaining her feelings to someone whose verbal skills aren't the best.
So she doesn't.
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“I have been stabbed,” Franziska says with no preamble, sitting down at the tiny melamine table as matter-of-factly as if this had been a casual visit for tea on a Sunday.
“Yeah,” says Maya. “I noticed that.”
Maya feels the cogs in her brain freewheeling with nothing to catch onto, her head still half in the dream, because for all she knows she’s still dreaming. How else does it make sense that Franziska is even here, right now?
It’s one hell of a coincidence, put it that way.
Franziska just eyes her from across the kitchen with that razor-edge gaze, and raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
“Not that I’m not… happy to see you.” Actually, that’s probably an understatement, “But, uh, shouldn’t you be in a hospital?”Maya Fey has an oddly prophetic dream.
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Heir to the massive Adrestian Empire, Edelgard von Hresvelg embarks on a quest to achieve her vision for the future. Upon encountering a mysterious mercenary named Byleth Eisner during a time of peril, she is faced with a precarious decision: should she trust the woman that just saved her life? Or could this woman be destined to foil her ambitions?
This story explores the emotional, and eventually physical, relationship between Edelgard and Byleth based on their encounters in the game Fire Emblem: Three Houses (with obvious creative liberty taken).
- Language:
- English
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- 218,039
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- 43/?
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- 827
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- 1,796
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- 312
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- 86,486
Bookmarked by greeniris
28 Aug 2021
Bookmarker's Notes
One of the best Edelgard character studies I’ve ever read