#but it’s like I don’t want certain villagers to leave because then that bond is just erased?
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Idk why I’m complaining about this 3+ years later but it still bums me out in ACNH that when a villager moves out, unless they move to someone else’s island, they don’t remember you next time you encounter them. I feel like that combined with villagers not moving out without your approval made me less willing to let go of them. Plus it was always exciting when a villager moved back in, vs now it’s kind of sad to encounter a villager you had on an island and them having no idea who you are.
#weeb problems#I started playing pocket camp again which lead to me trying to play new horizons more again#but it’s like I don’t want certain villagers to leave because then that bond is just erased?#it’s sad
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In the poly post you said that ithaqua is as close as it get to a yandere may I ask why you think that ? Or any headcanons related to that if that's okay with you (sorry if the English is bad )
As luck would have it, Ithaqua is one of the few Hunters I think I have a decent grasp on rn so I was also able to crank this out quickly! (To my other request-ees: I'm working on HC requests for several other characters rn! I should have them ready to spam-post sometime this weekend <3)
So here's some general and sfw relationship hcs for Ithaqua ;)
-A first small note, his exact age is not listed, but he’s described as a “young adult,” so I imagine him to be somewhere between 18-22.
-Ithaqua is a man who has entirely rejected society. He wants nothing more to do with it, with anyone, and any instance of breaching his territory is met with wind-swift punishment.
-It all fits when you consider the major events of his life. He was abandoned in a snowstorm, left for dead, because he was thought to be a devil. He was saved and raised by a “witch,” a kind woman who stood outside of society’s norms and was feared and hated for it. Their solitary home was trespassed on in the night, defiled, and his mother was kidnapped, tortured, and broken by a man with his exact face. Every small bit of comfort he ever had was destroyed by a mirror image of himself that was raised in “civilized” society. If that doesn’t cement the idea that people from that world can’t be given a chance, I don’t know what would.
-And I think on some level he questions the reality of it all. Did he do it? Did he destroy his own life? Was his so-called brother actually a copy of himself? Was Nathaniel supposed to be the better or the worse version? Was he himself evil before…or is he evil now? None of it matters in the long run, though. His only remaining goal in life is to defend his home and his mother’s resting place from interlopers. But he does get this distant, sour expression sometimes when he contemplates these things.
-I think he’s close to an as-is yandere because, if we assume he’s still capable of bonding with someone on a genuine level, that person would be a one true exception to his otherwise all-consuming distrust and hatred for society. He could not be “led to water”, so to speak, even by a partner who exemplified everything good left in the world. He’s just not capable of making that leap anymore.
-So again, he’s territorial, and that would 1000% extend to a partner. He’s not a master and you’re not his pet, but god would he try to keep you in his clutches. Use every sweet word and convincing anecdote in his arsenal to convince you to stay in the forest. The thing that keeps him from being all-out controlling is that his mother let him make his decisions for himself. She taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and she taught him about the rest of society, and she let him decide for himself if he ever wanted to get involved in it. He didn’t of course, because how could a place that shunned his mother be good for him? You deserve to make those choices too, even if he disagrees with what you pick.
-He will, however, watch you like a hawk. To not sugarcoat it, he’ll stalk you. Ithaqua wants to be prepared for the moment everything goes wrong. The moment he knows for certain will come, when you see he’s right about other people. When that happens, he’ll swoop in to save you. He refuses to be late again, like he was for his mother.
-He doesn’t leave the forest unattended often, but when you spend longer stints at your home in a village, you’ll notice the weather gradually becoming worse and worse. It seems to snow every day, and the wind is so harsh that walking outside is deafening and blinding. When you return to visit Ithaqua, the village mysteriously returns to its normal weather patterns.
-Ithaqua hates when other people interact with you. No one is no one is safe enough, trustworthy enough for him to not worry for your safety. They don’t deserve to even stand near you. But he won’t do anything until they do…or you say he can.
-Anyone he takes as a partner would have to remind him of his mother, at least a little. She’s the only example he has of a “good person” so he’s not likely to give people with divergent personality types much of a chance. He’s also more likely to trust a woman over a man, by a small margin.
-He won’t stand for being doted on or babied by anyone other than his mother or partner. he won't fall for other people's faux-gentleness! Don’t you know who he is? What he is? Call him cute or pitiful again and your blood will stain the snow red.
-His lips are always chapped to hell and back, sorry. Sharp kisses only for you.
#idv x reader#identity v x reader#idv night watch#ithaqua x reader#idv ithaqua#turbulentscraw#almost yandere...
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i’m pretty certain that’s not shanks’ own wedding. from what i’ve seen in the japanese fandom the general consensus is that it’s not his wedding and he’s a guest. (a popular theory is that it’s uta’s wedding but idk about that…) i’d bet it’s something to do with the giants (which oda didn’t want to reveal yet) just from the way it’s drawn is meant to deliberately hide the size of the church and the other guests. there’s a guy in the background who’s cheering at the church while facing away from shanks at the same time the doves are being released. it’s a crucial moment and shanks is just off to the side reading the newspaper.
i’m so certain shanks doesn’t have another kid, that would fuck up his character. oda loves shanks, and he loves his father-daughter relationships. he’d never make shanks into the kind of guy who’d willingly start a new happy family while uta’s back in Elegia suffering. it also just goes against the whole theme of bonds being stronger than blood? shanks leaves his adopted daughter miserable and suicidal, but takes care to ensure his biological child he hasn’t met is safe and loved? i just can’t imagine that being the ending.
i also see japanese fans saying they’d think shanks was a scummy guy towards uta if he went and had a kid, so i’ve seen people leaning towards beck instead. apparently oda emphasizing that beck loves women is a big indicator.
another reason some fans say it’s not shanks is because makino calls him ‘taichou-san’ which is a very formal address. how people refer to each other is very important. so there’s a hint in how it’s distant and like a stranger’s behavior.
my personal opinion is that the dad is just a regular villager or a marine. there’s a lot of men who are way closer distance wise so that would be the simplest answer. there’s a good chance oda just doesn’t know or care when only one parent matters. we don’t even know yamato or luffy’s mom.
hi, anon!! sorry for making you wait. it's actually funny that i forgot to reply to this for so long, because in that time, my feelings have slightly... changed? somewhat??? i'll explain.
i was reading the extra "road to laughtale" volumes for fun recently when i stumbled across shanks' section, and there are some interesting implications which actually contradict my previous thoughts, if true.
the language used here -- that shanks is "attending a wedding ceremony," and "performing a benediction" -- sounds less like a man getting married, and more like a man who officiated someone else's wedding. (of course, there's the matter of translation accuracy and how canon this information actually is, but...)
"benediction" in particular is very interesting. not only is shanks attending a wedding, but he is essentially giving his blessing. how literal this is, i can't be sure, but either way, it implies a sense of familiarity/closeness to a party other than himself. perhaps shanks is giving his figurative "blessing" as an emperor to one of his allies, or maybe as a captain to one of his own crewmates. or maybe, in the most literal interpretation, he was responsible for wedding two individuals in some way.
i'd love to get my hands on the raw scans and see alternative translations, but "benediction" is so specific a term, and the repetition of "attending" reads as intentional. again, we still don't know for sure, but i feel a lot less certain about it being shanks' wedding, now!!
#if anyone wants to take a crack at translating themselves.. please let me know#it's volume 2 if you're curious#again this says nothing about the potential shanks-makino baby situation.. but it's definitely relevant info#i'm so invested in shanks' potential bachelor status now#can we start a betting pool over this#one piece#shanks#ask
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▴ — @nihlkahn ;; Sheik & Kasus.
[ SHARED ] sender is laying on the floor/ground for some reason and sender simply joins them.
“Amaron, have you seen Kasus?” For once, he’s dressed in his own clothes and not the stealth suit. A rarity. He’d dragged out a purple tunic with the Eye of Truth mark printed on it in a soft grey color, and a pair of black trousers fit rather snuggly. There was a simple leather belt across his waist, keeping the tunic in place. In his hands was an old book that had Sheik frowning down at it, a page marked so he could look up from it and not fall down the stairs. Not that Amaron wouldn’t catch him, he’s very used to Sheik walking into a few things when he attempts reading and walking at the same time.
Never a good combination.
“I need help with something.” His husband does not know where the deity went, and Sheik has to reassure him several times that he can’t help with Sheik’s problem because Amaron is not a walking bilingual god that can translate certain Sheikah words that even Sheik can’t translate on his own. He is fluent in his language, but this book seemed old enough that a few words got lost in translation or might have just been misspelled. So he figured he could have Kasus read it and translate it.
Amaron recommended tracking him through the bond, if Kasus really wanted to be left alone Sheik wouldn’t be able to find him even doing that. It meant, though, both figuring out how to do that and leaving the house. Sheik clicked his tongue at that and sighed, debating on putting the full stealth suit on or just grabbing the mask. Amaron voted neither, apparently he was really enjoying what Sheik was wearing, which amused him.
Sheik grabs a mask, Amaron makes disappointed noises, and he climbs out the nearest window to go find the wayward god.
Apparently, figuring out how to locate him through the bond wasn’t so hard. It actually felt like Kasus was guiding him in figuring that partly out. It was a bit like following a chord, but one that he couldn’t see physically. He lets himself be pulled by the connection, making his way out of Kakariko Village and into Hyrule Field. From there, it seems to lead him a bit toward Lon Lon Ranch, which did spike his anxiety, but the feeling was quickly muted when Kasus made it clear he wasn’t there, just behind it a bit toward Kokiri Forest.
Which was exactly where he found him, laying in the grass and staring up at the sky. Cloud gazing, apparently, which was not something Sheik has ever done. He watches the stars with Amaron, which he finds fascinating, not so much clouds. He gives a small hum and moves over toward Kasus’ head, sitting himself down behind him and coaxing the deity to lift his head up. When he did, Sheik settled himself underneath his head and let the other rest down against his lap.
He tilts his head up to look above them, blinking at the bright blue sky and the twisting thin clouds. They don’t have a storm coming, it was probably going to be a clear night too. And the weather was the only thing he could think about, he had no idea what Kasus got out of watching the sky. What he saw through the clouds and the blue twisting colors of the world above. Even to a Sheikah’s eyes, it just seemed normal.
A small confused, almost curious hum, and he tilts his head back down to look at Kasus. Who was, apparently, no longer watching the clouds. Sheik blinked into those bright bluish silver eyes and wondered what was going through his head. Maybe if he asked, if he knocked like Amaron said, he’d find out. But the thought, the wonder over rejection, is really what has him hesitating. Perhaps it’s a ridiculous one, given the conversation in the bathroom, that four letter word thrown around multiple times.
But the thought is still there and he really can’t help it. It’s almost a bit amusing to him how he has more bravery with other things than he does this simple bond. Maybe it’s just the thought of feeling so rawly Kasus’ emotions unfiltered that makes him nervous. Words can be twisted, manipulated, and meant in many ways where emotions set a very clear understanding. Sheik is all too familiar with both concepts.
Right now though, with his head pillowed on Sheik’s thighs and the bright sun shining down above them both, the silly deity they’d taken in that had easily patched so many holes in their home looked very pretty like this. There’s a reckless desire that rushes through him, a wanting feeling that has his heart skipping in his chest. He shouldn’t, maybe, there’s so many conflicting emotions rushing through him at that moment. Sheik takes a calming breath, trying to ease the rush of his heart.
They are alone out here, Kasus had picked a good spot to hide away at. So he moves his right hand from the grass where it was supporting his weight to reach up and tug the mask down around his neck. The cool air hit his face and Sheik moved both of his hands over toward Kasus head. A bit of his hair was brushed from his face, the white color of it tucked behind his ears. His heart had not slowed down, if anything it seemed to go faster and he’s fairly convinced that Kasus can hear it.
With his fingers still in the other’s hair Sheik took a risk and leaned down, gently pressing his lips against the other’s.
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Title: Magic Touch
Characters: Ram, Bheem
Summary: Ram helps Bheem prepare for a date with Jenny, by making him look his best. The two bond as they realize how close they’ve become.
Word count: 1,264
Bheem sat in the chair in front of the mirror in Ram’s bedroom. Ram stood behind him, with a comb and a jar of coconut oil in his hands. Today, Bheem would be going on a tea date with Jenny at the palace. Bheem had been a bundle of nerves when he’d told Ram about it. He had no idea what to wear or how he should style his hair…not to mention what to say to her. Though it had eventually been decided he’d wear the same suit he’d worn during their Naatu dance. Ram felt it might trigger positive memories during their date.
Bheem had even shyly admitted to Ram that he was self conscious about how he’d smell, as Brits had made cruel comments about how Indians smelled of curry. Ram had scoffed at this, mostly because he knew Jenny wasn’t the cruel type. Anyway, he was going to make Bheem irresistibly attractive to her. Especially compared to uptight bores like Jake.
Bheem scowled as he patted his hair and studied his reflection. “This hair is the bane of my existence,” he muttered. “I wish it was more sleek and easy to style like yours is.”
Ram tutted as he took hold of Bheem’s hand, lowering it from his head. He placed his own hands on his friends hair and began playing with it, smiling unknowingly at how soft and curly it was.
“You’re crazy, Bheem. Do you know how many men would kill for your curls? They make you stand out.”
Ram put some coconut oil in his hand, rubbed it into his hands and then began rubbing it into Bheem’s hair from roots to ends. He frowned in concentration as he took the comb and ran it through Bheem’s thick hair, doing his best not to straighten it too much. He wanted to accentuate the curls as much as he could.
“I guess I always wanted what I couldn’t have,” Bheem said with a sigh. He then shuddered involuntarily. “Gosh, I’m so nervous. She’s so upper class and I’m just a villager. What if we have nothing to talk about? What if we have nothing in common?”
Ram thought for a moment. He wanted this relationship to work out for Bheem. He’d never forget how badly Jenny had wanted him to win at Naatu and how happy Bheem had been when she’d congratulated him. From that moment onward he’d known they were a perfect match. His eyes brightened as the simple answer came to him.
“Tell her what you like about her, how kind she’s been to you,” he suggested as he took hold of a bottle of cologne that sat on a nearby dresser. He asked Bheem to tilt his head away from him, then sprayed a bit of it on the side of his neck. He used a spare cloth to dab at it so the smell wouldn’t be overpowering. “Tell her she looks pretty, that you love what she’s wearing. Oh! Tell her she’s a great dancer, that you’d like to dance with her again.”
Bheem groaned. “There’s no way I’ll remember all that. You’ll have to tell me which one of those would be best for me to say.” He paused to sniff at the air. “Wow…that smells great. Like cinnamon.”
“You’re going to sweep her off her feet, you stud,” Ram said, grinning as he turned Bheem towards the mirror again, so he could see his finished work.
Bheem’s eyes widened as he gingerly touched his neatly styled curls. Ram smiled proudly as he could tell Bheem appreciated his appearance.
“And it’s not too oily either,” Bheem marveled, making Ram chuckle behind a hand. “You’ve really got the magic touch, don’t you?”
“Only when it comes to my most dashing friends,” Ram teased, pinching Bheem’s cheek playfully. His friend slapped his hand away with a laugh. “And don’t be so nice to me. You should save that for a certain lovely British woman.”
“Well, I suppose if I were to leave her for someone, it’d have to be my best friend.”
There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched a beat too long.
Ram had frozen in place, overly aware of his breathing pattern in those moments. “Best friend?” He asked cautiously, unsure if he’d heard correctly.
Bheem looked sheepish, as though he’d been caught with his pants down. “That may have been presumptuous of me. I might just be emotional right now. I’m sorry.”
Ram panicked, eager to put a stop to his friends backtracking. It was definitely not what he wanted to hear.
“No…no, Bheem. I like it. Really. I think you’re my best friend, too.”
He placed a hand on Bheem’s shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. His friend’s reflection beamed at him. Ram felt butterflies in his stomach and a grin subconsciously spread on his face as the words best friend were plastered in his mind like a massive banner. Yes…he liked the ring of it. After all, it’d been something he’d always wanted, but had never been lucky enough to experience until now. And now, it was official.
They were best friends.
Bheem stood up from the chair and turned to face Ram. He spread his arms and posed for him, making Ram laugh a little at his friend’s exuberance. “Well? Do I clean up well?” Bheem asked nervously. Ram studied his friend in his suit that reminded him of the most fun he’d ever had. His breath caught in his throat as his emotions were assaulted by the exhilarating memory of their dance.
“You look handsome,” Ram said kindly, after getting a hold of himself. His friend’s eyes crinkled at the corners in gratitude.
“Now I just have to find a way to make you ugly,” Bheem joked.
Ram shook his head as he laughed, shoulders shaking. His friend wasn’t ugly in the least, so he had no idea where this was coming from. Although he was mostly laughing at it being implied that Ram was that good looking. In that moment, he felt like he had to convince his friend that he was wrong about his self-perception.
“You’re not ugly, you idiot. You’re good-looking. And you—” Suddenly he hesitated, not sure if he wanted to disclose something that felt a bit too personal.
But Bheem’s curiosity had been piqued as he looked at him with crossed arms and an arched eyebrow. “What?”
Damn. Now he had to say it.
“You…you have nice eyes,” Ram stammered, realizing how much it sounded like he was actually flirting with him after his hesitation.
Bheem stared at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Ram’s compliment was practically begging for him to be teased, but Bheem didn’t take the bait like most would. Instead he shook his head as a grin spread across his face; he was practically glowing.
“Really?”
Ram discreetly breathed a sigh of relief, then chuckled, enjoying the effect his compliment had on him. “Yes,” he said firmly.
“No way…no one’s ever said that to me before.”
Bheem patted his suit and arched his neck to peek at his reflection. He even walked up to it, and though he tried to be subtle, Ram was certain he was studying his eyes from different angles.
After that, he noticed a spring in Bheem’s step that hadn’t been there before. He also seemed more confident and at ease with himself, to Ram’s relief. He felt happy that he’d helped to alleviate his friend’s concerns and made him believe in himself.
After all, he loved him.
#rrr 2022#rrr movie#rrr fandom#rrr film#ram rrr#rrr#tollywood#bheem rrr#rrr fanfic#rrr fanfiction#friendship
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Book Review - We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
I will preface this by saying that this is a masterpiece of a book. Personally what I picked up on at first was the foreshadowing because the reader is essentially told from the beginning that Merricat “did it” with the famous opening paragraph. It’s up to the reader to accept that Merricat is the murderer and an unreliable narrator. It’s evident she’s stuck in the headspace of when she committed the crime because she spends a lot of her time daydreaming and thinking about killing the villagers and walking over their dead bodies. The way Shirley Jackson writes the foreshadowing is, dare I say, perfect because it leaves the reader guessing as to what is going to happen next and what has already happened in the past. Not to mention, Uncle Julian’s dialogue is framed in a way that gives the reader just enough information to stay curious and keep reading. Personally, I guessed it was Merricat from the beginning but I truly knew she killed her family when Uncle Julian said the Merricat had died in the orphanage when Constance was on trial. Merricat and Uncle Julian never actually interact with each other once throughout the book if you go back and look, whether Julian believes her to be truly dead, or whether Merricat forbids herself, or even a mixture of fear from both parties. I suspected as well when Merricat would say things along the lines of how she isn’t allowed to prepare the food or do certain things, as if giving herself rules. The dialogue toys with the readers mind, as if interacting as the story plays out. I’ve seen other people on the reviews say that the story drones on, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The story, in fact, refuses to drone on; it gets straight to the fact of the matter. Every word, line, and paragraph have meaning. Shirley Jackson wrote a story so great within 200 pages what other authors couldn’t achieve in 500. The climax is phenomenal - the symbolism of the house burning shows the cruelty of the townspeople and how they see the Blackwoods as “other.” They destroy their house more after the fire is put out, breaking windows, destroying the property, forcing Merricat and Constance to flee with only strengthens what is best described as a trauma bond because they feel so ostracized. Then, once in the woods, Merricat states she wants to poison the villagers food, and Constance replies with “The way you did before?” And Merricat replies back and says, “Yes, the way I did before.” The long asked question is finally answered.
As I was saying before, every interaction and the behavior between characters has a meaning, and it is so crystal clear. Take a look at the OCD rituals both sisters exhibit. How Merricat feel “guilty” and wants to make a point to be kinder to Uncle Julian. I say “guilty” because I don’t believe she truly feels guilt. It should be noted that her goal is to be isolated with Constance. After the climax (the fire and the reveal of the murderer), despite what Merricat has done, Constance reprises her role and continues to choose Merricat, choosing to be complicit once more. Think of how Constance washed the sugar dish because “there was a spider in it.” Ultimately, Merricat gets exactly what she wanted because to my knowledge, Merricat allows Constance to believe that Charles was the one who burned the house down even though Merricat was the one who threw the pipe in the trash can. Because of this as well, the reader realizes Merricat doesn’t feel guilty because she met her end goal. She even tells Constance that she knew she would like “living on the moon.”
However let’s not forget about Charles. By no means is he a good person. Merricat equates him to a ghost and a demon after he arrives, comparing him to their father. He sleeps in John Blackwood’s room, wears his clothes and jewelry, and even eats at the same spot at the dinner table, and it’s implied that he has similar behaviors as John Blackwood. He’s a trigger for Merricat because he disrupts their isolation and he’s after their money. In Merricat’s mind, he intends to steal Constance away, and Merricat refuses to allow that to happen.
I could go on for longer, but whoever reads this review will understand the point. Shirley Jackson has a way with words, and I would be lucky to write a story with just an inkling of the power that this story holds. She deserves to be more appreciated. I’m going to read The Haunting of Hill House next.
#book review#horror#gothic horror#gothic novel#we have always lived in the castle#shirley jackson#review#classic horror#merricat blackwood#constance blackwood#uncle julian blackwood#charles blackwood#the lottery#the haunting of hill house
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One Djinn's Answer
A/N: @estrogen on AO3 and @suomi932654 on Tumblr wanted another part to One Dijnn Wish. They fell in love with Amelia just as much as I did. I’m sorry it took so long for this fic to get out. I’m trying to learn how to accept that I’m writing for the fun of it. Not out of obligation. I do this for fun, not as a job. I just have to get that inside of my little ol’ noggin. I could call it quits any day and feel no guilt because I don’t owe anyone anything. (I also wrote this fic listening to sad Taylor Swift songs so you have that to blame for the outcome of this fic)
Pairings: Eskel x Mom/Healer!Reader
Summary: After a long year on the Path on his own, Eskel is supposed to return to you for the winter. The thing is he’s late. Or not coming at all. You regret putting your trust in someone despite all the signs telling you not too. The worst part is Amelia is still sitting by the door waiting for the day he comes home.
Or, “honestly i am here for the father-daughter bonding so maybe something like spending time with the reader and adjusting to the role as a father and just that good domestic fluff :] or maybe something like eskel doing his best to prove that he’s not going to up and leave bc i would imagine the reader would still have some doubts as to whether he really meant what he said or not but honestly these are just my ideas!
i immediately pictured amelia stealing the reader’s things and then giving them back as a birthday present like something off extreme cheapskates 😭 and no worries! if you don’t make one, that’s totally okay whatever you pump out next will be an absolute masterpiece i’m 100% certain and you can’t change my mind 😤😤 if you ever need a beta reader or smth hmu
i’m sure she could pick pocket from strangers, get caught, and they’d probably give her an extra few just because she’s cute like this girl really has a shot as a criminal and i am here for it ✊😤 do what i cannot because unfortunately i am not 6 and laws on planet earth forbid me from stealing from others and no problem!”
Word count: 7,149
Warnings: miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort,
Part 1
It should have been simple. After Amelia had claimed Eskel for a father, you struck a deal with the witcher. He would spend the year on the path as he had always done. But during the winter, instead of heading up to the Keep, he would spend the winter with you and Amelia. This conclusion was not an easy one to come to. On one hand, you felt guilty that you would be taking Eskel from his Keep. On the other hand, you thought it was unfair that he spend nine whole months away from Amelia.
From you.
Guilt, nervous, and admittedly fear clung to your skin when you bid Eskel farewell for the year. Amelia hid her emotions poorly. She outright cried at the prospect that Eskel would be leaving. It took much reassurance on your part and many comforting hugs on Eskel’s for her to allow him to go. “I’ll be back in the winter,” Eskel had said with a lump in his throat. Unbeknownst to you until that moment, Eskel felt just as many conflicting emotions at having to leave his loves. “I promise.”
*****
The first few days Eskel was gone, Amelia would not speak to you. You were not sure if it was because she blamed you for Eskel’s leaving or she needed time on her own. You would leave for the village during the day as you’ve always done. Amelia would be left home alone with strict instructions to keep herself fed and safe. When you returned with sore feet and an empty basket, she would be out in the fields behind your house.
Your own mind fought with yourself. You never knew whether to approach her or give her time to mull over her own thoughts. She would seek you out if she needed you. However, what if she did not admit to herself that she wanted you? To push forward or to wait behind. You were glad you were not a fisher or a hunter. A healer’s profession was much more straightforward.
“Ma?” Amelia called for you a week after Eskel had left for the Path.
You paused in your potion fixing. The herbs could be crushed at a later time. Turning, you wiped your hands clean with a linen cloth and placed it on your work table. Amelia stood before you. Her year old boots were caked with field mud as always. Her dark, disorderly hair stabbed at her big molten brown eyes. She peered up at you through her fawnish eyelashes. She had grown so much in the past few months but she was still your baby.
“Yes, darling?” you replied, giving her your full attention.
“When…” She glanced down at her boots, hands fisted in the skirt of her dress. None of her clothes ever stayed clean for long. “When is Da coming back? Is he coming back?”
You could not help but kneel then. Your knees found purchase on your floorboards, your arms outstretched for your daughter’s comfort. “Oh, come here,” you urged softly. Amelia ran into your arms as fast as her little legs could carry her. The only reason you did not fall back backwards was because of your sturdy wood table. Your arms went around Amelia’s small frame, hands brushing back her unruly hair so you could see her face clearly. “We agreed he’ll be back in winter. He has to work during the year, darling.”
“How long is it until winter?” she whined into your chest, breathes coming in heaves. Her little fists grabbed hold on your tunic, tugging on the fabric hard enough to rip. “I want Da back. I-I miss him.”
You kissed the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of wheat, flax, and rice. Your hand went down to her back to rub in circles. With one quick lift with your free hand, she sat on your lap with her face tucked into your chest. “I miss him too,” you admitted for the first time in days. “I wish he was here every day, but I can’t ask him to give up what he loves.” You gently pushed Amelia back so she could look at you. Her brown cheeks still had the remnants of baby fat, doughy and tear stained.
Unable to help yourself, you brushed away her tears with your thumb. She shook your hand away like you knew she would. “Think about it this way. You would not like giving up your trips to the village would you?” Amelia hesitated but nodded her agreement. “Da wouldn’t like giving up his work and I won’t make him. It would be very mean and unfair of me to ask that of him, wouldn’t it.”
“I guess,” Amelia shrugged before returning to her place on your chest. She laid her head over where your heart would rest. “I still miss Da, though.”
“And you have every right to. Winter will be here before you know it.” You kissed her again before she could complain that she was too old for such affection. “He did promise after all.”
*****
Winter came slowly that year. It took a while for the seasons to change. It was days until the harsh winds of autumn turned into the snowfall of winter. Harvest season came and went without much hassle. Amelia assisted in the village with you during that time. She was quick on her feet running little errands whenever the need arose.
During the day when the drooping sun decided to show itself, you would walk with Amelia bundled from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The extra layers and lowering temperatures did not seem to make her falter. If anything, it seemed to invigorate her. She knew what the first snowfall of the season meant. Amelia had been waiting months for it.
When night came after a day of tending to the village, Amelia was always insistent about returning home. She did not have much empathy for the sick postmaster who needed someone by his side or the nun with trouble sleeping at night. Amelia did not care for the messengers who struggled with delivering letters and worrying about their superior. Nor did she pay much mind to the grumpy nun who needed sleep like frogs needed water. Amelia wanted to go home once the sun set.
“What if Da’s returned and didn’t see us? What if he thought we left him?” Amelia urged, your basket already in hand. “He would be heartbroken, Ma. Heartbroken.” Your patients were typically charmed by Amelia’s ability to speak unabatingly but the nun had not had a wink of sleep in several days. “He might be home already!”
“Amelia,” you stated firmly, hands trying to placate the irritated nun. “If you are unwilling to help then you may wait outside.”
“Could I run home first? I promise to be careful.”
“When the sun has already set? Da would be terribly cross with me if I allowed that,” you tried to reason with your six, almost seven year old daughter. “He worries for your safety just as much as I do. You wouldn’t want him cross with you, do you, darling?”
That was the final hit on the nail’s head. Amelia sat fidgeting, yet patient by the door until you were finished. An hour passed but she waited just as you had asked. When you were done, giving the nun a sleeping draught that would not interfere with her existing mediation, Amelia grabbed your hand and pulled you through the door.
She ran ahead of you, making sure to stay where you could still see her as were the terms. Her footfalls on snow covered ground were music to your ears. You had kept it to yourself, but anticipation curled in your stomach like a night of drinking strong mead. You ached for Eskel’s safe return as much as your daughter did. It was not easy caring for Amelia over the months when you had gotten used to Eskel’s help. His gentle reassurances and strong, yet comforting touches kept you going on the most stressful of days.
Amelia reached home before you did. You had, foolishly, expected a horse to be tied to a fencepost and a witcher to be at your door front. All you were met with was a lone, small child on a cold stone pathway. She appeared so minuscule on the path that her biological father had helped build. He too was unable to keep his promises, honeyed words nothing but fantastical lies.
“Do you think he went to the village to look for us?” She shifted on her heel as if to make a run for the village. You grabbed a hold of her shoulder before she could make the sprint. Regretfully, you urged her into the fireless, dark house. “Maybe he’s running late. Da’ll be here soon, right? Let's keep the door unlocked for him.”
“Come, Amelia.”
“I’m good at finding liars, Ma. He promised he’ll be back at winter.”
You would regret saying it for days. You would wish with everything that you had to take back your words. “Your ability must have worn over time. You’re almost old enough to realize what’s fantasy and what’s reality.”
*****
Amelia waited by the door. She wanted to wait outside so that Eskel would know they were home, but to that you would not yield to. She sat herself in front of the door with her hands clenched around her toys. The fish and doll that Eskel had fixed for her. You had never seen her so still, so patient for something that would never arrive. She spent the whole night there, refused dinner, and fought with you about sleep. She had been worse than the nun.
The next day was the same. Waiting. Sat on the floor with her toys and her eyes set on the door. She shook her head to your offer of going to the village. Ignored your repeated words of faith and trust and the worst place to put them. Her stubbornness was as unfaltering as her strides while sprinting.
She was there by the door when you returned that night. The fire had gone out untouched and the cooking pot was as clean as you had left it that night after supper. Her determination was still fiery despite all the signs. Amelia would not listen to your words, she would not head to the warnings. She merely waited by the door. Day…after day.
“Amelia, please eat,” you pleaded with her. Knees on the floor once more, you sat with a plate of roasted carrots, beef, and collard greens to your side.
“He’s coming.”
“Please, Amelia. You haven’t eaten all day. I’m worried about you.”
“He’s coming…right?” There. That moment of doubt. Her gaze left the door for the first time in ages. Her will had been strong. Stronger than yours ever was. But she was not dumb. Foolish perhaps, as all children and heart stricken fools were, but never dumb. She, like you, will merely have to face the truth sometime.
“You’re awfully good at finding liars,” you began, setting your spoon down on your plate. You addressed Amelia, your sweet, little girl. “You’ll know what you want to hear would be a lie.”
“Is—is it because of me? Is he not coming because of me?”
You pulled her close to you on the floor. You heard her bones pop at the moment from disuse. “Why would you think that? What could possibly possess you to think it's your fault?” Your hand went to her back as you felt the telltale uneven breaths. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I have…I’ve done something bad. That’s why, Eskel—” Not Da. “Doesn’t want to come back to us. To me...” She cried, though it was not the right word, felt the most immense pain imaginable was a tad closer. “I-I stole this from him.” Amelia pulled out a metal spike that had been hidden in the twine of her doll. The doll she held close and embraced at night. At first, you did not know what she had in her hand. Then the metal glinted off the light of the fireplace and you suddenly recognized it as a spike from Eskel’s tunic.
“I’m really sorry, Ma,” Amelia sobbed, words so slurred you could hardly make them out. Dark bags circled her eyes from nights she stayed awake waiting. “I only wanted a part of him. I-I never meant to make him not want to come back to you. I’m sorry I ruined everything.”
You tucked her into the crook of your neck as Eskel had done all those months ago. The weight on her was heavy in your arms but you held her regardless. Amelia clutched at you as she had done her toys, nails digging into your skin, hand unwilling to let go. “No, no, darling. You haven’t ruined anything. None of this is your fault. You did something any child would. Only a monster would find fault with what you did.”
“I wanted him as a Da so bad, but he doesn’t want me as a daughter.”
*****
Amelia cried for hours before she was too exhausted to continue. Your knees ached and your muscles screamed for you to move but you did not dare stop Amelia from letting out her emotions. You stayed on the floor with her in your arms until her sobs stopped. Even then you waited for her to fall asleep before daring to move. Her arms went lax and her breaths evened out.
You carried her to bed and pulled the covers over her so she was nice and snug. It was the least that you could do. This small bit of comfort for the days to come. You still remembered what it felt like when her biological father had left. This was going to feel a hundred times worse. Amelia remembered Eskel unlike her biological father. Eskel was a good man unlike the other. You hardly expected this pain to go away the next morning. It would linger for ages to come. You could only hope you were strong enough to help Amelia through it.
*****
With the morning came a snow storm that forced you to stay home. Amelia slept with minimal stirring. The fire roared, flames making the logs crackle. Furs and blankets were piled high on beds. Stores of cheese and cocoa powder were brought out for hot chocolate when Amelia woke. Until then, you went about tidying your home. Anything to keep you busy until Amelia emerged and another conversation was needed.
Despite the snow coming down hard, window panes completely frosted over, a weighted knock sounded at the door. Your broom was quickly put away in case there was a patient you needed to tend to. Years ago, Petros, a little boy in the village that Amelia would play with, fell terribly ill in the first days of winter. His poor mother had braved the cold to come calling for aid. You would rather not make the woman wait, swinging the door open.
Eskel stood in front of you.
His shoulders were hunched over to protect the rest of his body from the winds. His bags were swung over his back, his sword a gray rod of ice. He looked at you as if you were a crackling bonfire in the middle of a freezing mountain range. There was hope, and more importantly guilt and worry in his amber eyes. He stood alone on the cold stone pathway. He appeared minuscule in the snowfall.
“I’m sorry.” Amelia’s ability to find liars must have come from her biological father because you almost believed Eskel. “I do not deserve your forgiveness but please, I beg of you, know that I am sorry.”
Neither of you spoke for a moment. The rush of snow, dusts, and whatever else the snow carried covered you both in a fine layer of grayish white. Your body ached to shiver from the cold but you did not want Eskel to see even an ounce of weakness from you. The fire hissed and popped, the wind carrying inside of your home.
“Do you realize the damage that you have done?”
Eskel looked down, eyes brimming with sorrow. He did not shiver from the cold. His witcher mutagens would allow him to stand in the storm for hours. You were tempted to send him away without another word, force him to trudge away with his tail tucked between his legs. You did not like the sight of him there, but alas, some part of your heart urged you to speak to him.
“I could only imagine but I will never begin to fathom.”
“She waited for you for days.” I waited for you. “Day in and day out she waited by the door, Eskel. She didn’t eat, didn’t move from her place on the floor. All because she was waiting for the day you would stumble through the door.” You clenched your hands into fists until your nails dug into your palm. You could feel the sting of pain when you drew blood. You knew Eskel could smell it. The furrow of his brow and his hesitant step forward was telling.
“I promise you, I did everything in my power to be here on time,” his voice came in rough rumbles. It took a moment for you to realize he was on the verge of crying. “My horse was stolen. My trek here was on foot.” He sucked in a shallow breath, body trembling with the action. “I sent word that I would be late. I’m sorry that I am.”
“Sent word?” you asked, flabbergasted at his words, at his person. “I don’t want your flimsy excuses. I don’t want your sugar coated apologies. I am the one who has to deal with the aftermath of your actions while you can up and leave any time you want.” You sneered at him. He might have been a witcher but the look on your face was enough to scare anyone. The wind howled in your aid.
“I’m so, so sorry, my dear. Truly I am. Please give me the chance to—”
You cut off his words with a hand. Out of the storm a lone figure approached your home. You could see them at the fence posts, a figure who moved with haste. Eskel peered at them and stepped to the side of the path, having deemed them innocent. You recognized the figure then, close yet still coated with snow. He was one of the postmaster’s messengers.
“I apologize for the delay, Healer,” the messenger, Szczepan said while trying to catch his breath. Despite the cold, sweat formed on his brow from his run. “The message was marked urgent but I couldn’t get it to you what with the postmaster being sick. Thank you again for saving him.” Szczepan smiled with missing teeth and handed you a small, cloth wrapped note. “Good day, Healer. Try to stay warm,” he jested, waving you farewell and nodding politely to Eskel as he left.
You watched Szczepan leave. Ignoring Eskel, you opened the cloth wrapped message. You may not have seen the writing often but even you could recognize who it belonged to. It was short, sweet, and to the point. It, unfortunately to your terrifying act, made tears form at the corner of your eyes. You allowed your body to shiver from the cold, from the note in your hand.
Dear Loves,
I’m so sorry but I will not be able to make it on the first day of winter. I got into some trouble with some bandits. I no longer have my horse. I will be making the rest of the trip on foot, but know that I am coming. Please wait for me. I should be there in a week’s time. Know that I am not there with you right now because of something outside of my control. If I had it my way I would already be home with you two. I love you two dearly.
Please wait for Da, Amelia.
You looked up at Eskel. His gaze was no longer on the frozen ground. He looked at you with the same, desperate, warm seeking eyes. Wiping the stray water from your eyes, you tried your hand at firmness. Your eyes harden on the missing spike on his tunic. Eventually you landed on his amber eyes. “How do you expect me to console Amelia still? This delay, this letter doesn’t fix the fact that she waited for you for days. Did you really think you could appear from thin air and expect her to forgive you so easily? She’s almost seven, Eskel. Instead of spending the days leading up to her birthday spending time with her Da, she spent them blaming herself for you not coming.”
“Please give me the chance to remedy my mistakes. I honestly tried to be here in time. Let me speak to her.” He took a step closer. You allowed him to because you were helplessly a bleeding heart. “Let me prove to you that this was a one time mistake. I wouldn’t abandon you and Amelia.”
You held the note tightly, a deep sigh leaving your lungs. “I’m not the one you should be begging for forgiveness, Eskel. We both know how stubborn Amelia is. She won’t be happy with you.” You could pinpoint the moment where Eskel’s eyes hardened with determination. It was a similar expression to the one Amelia wore waiting for him. “Know that it will take time for her to trust you again.”
“I understand—.”
You were rudely shoved to the side as a quick body push passed you to run and jump into Eskel’s arms. Despite his heightened senses, you could tell that he was not expecting the small body that was suddenly clinging onto him like a lifeline. His arms immediately went around her so as to not drop her, to not cause her anymore unnecessary pain.
“Da! You’re home. You’re home!” Amelia squealed, a smile painted across her face. The few in days. She shivered at the snowstorm but refused to let go of Eskel. Of her Da.
“I’m home, Amelia,” Eskel cried, tears streaming down his scarred face. “I’m so sorry I was late. I tried to send word but I’m sorry you did not get it in time. Please forgive me for not being here like I said I would,” the great, intimidating witcher begged for the mercy of an almost seven year old.
“I’m not sorry that you’re here.” Amelia pushed back from Eskel so she could look at him. Even from a distance you could feel the scrutinizing look that Amelia gave the witcher. She took note of all of his new scars, at the frost burn on his skin, the purplish mark near his brow. You knew she thought he looked incredible. “I’m not sorry that you’re late either. You’re here. My Da’s home because he loves us.”
“I love you both so much.”
*****
While you were still unsure about Eskel, Amelia had no such qualms. She was wholly and truly glad that her Da was home. The two were sewn together at the hips with the loose ends tied with a pretty knot. Where Eskel went, one could expect to see Amelia not far away. You pushed down the pang of jealousy only because you had Amelia’s attention the rest of the year. You could put up with three months of Amelia’s attention on Eskel.
Hopefully.
“Can I open it now?” Amelia begged for the nth time that day. The box wrapped with parchment and ribbon was clenched tightly in her hands. It was no bigger than the size of her head but she acted as if it contained a dragon’s hoard. Amelia pleaded with Eskel with big, joyous eyes. Her lips were curved with a big pout. You knew that it took everything within Eskel not to give in. You knew that if it had been you, you would have given in the moment her lips began to quiver.
“Not until after dinner,” Eskel replied, playfully teasing her hair.
“Da! That’s ages away. Can I just please open it now? It is my birthday.”
Eskel kneeled down so he was level with Amelia. His expression was free of irritation or annoyance at Amelia’s constant begging. There was just amusement at the antics of his daughter. At this point, that was what Amelia was. Eskel’s daughter just as much as your own. If the way she looked at him didn’t give it away, it was the way he peered at her little brown eyes. “Don’t you want any honey cake? We spent all morning on it. Won’t you like to give it a try first?”
“Before dinner?” Amelia asked, side eyeing Eskel as if she did not care of his answer. You hid a chuckle in the sleeve of your—Eskel’s tunic—because she was fooling no one.
“After,” Eskel stated, assertively.
“Ma?”
“After,” you echoed, trying to hide your grin at her defeated expression. She graciously returned the box wrapped with parchment to Eskel’s hand with a lowered head.
“Can I at least know what’s in there?”
This time Eskel did not even attempt to hide the laughter that burst from deep within his chest. His laugh was contagious, a booming sound that would catch anyone’s attention. His scars stretched as a grin overtook his face. “That would defeat the purpose of it being wrapped, wouldn’t it?”
*****
It was a complete coincidence that yours and Amelia’s birthdays were both in winter. Amelia’s was near the beginning and yours was at the end of the first month. You were not as excited about your birthday as the now seven year old was. Your birthdays were always just another day, another reminder that a year had gone by.
Amelia on the other hand had been ecstatic. Spending her birthday with Eskel was perhaps the best in her life. He had gifted her two handcrafted, Oxenfurtian dolls that must have cost him a fortune. One was of a silver wolf with the softest fur you had ever felt and the prettiest tail. The other was of a little goat with brown markings on her face and little horns. Eskel had explained he asked the dollmaker to make the horns out of velvet so Amelia would not hurt herself.
You had gifted her a pair of new boots and a dress you had sewn, but it was clear which she favorited.
“What kind of cake would you prefer for your birthday?” Eskel asked you the morning of yours. The dusty, decrepit cookbook of yours was placed in front of the witcher. You had not personally touched the thing in years, but it still somehow managed to have loose pages. He turned the pages with the tips of his rough fingers, his callouses getting caught on the edges. “Honey cake seems to be Amelia’s favorite, but Sernik might be good with the cheese from the market.”
“What are you doing Eskel?” you asked the witcher with an apron on. You were not so similarly dressed in your winter coat, skirts, extra layers, and boots. For some reason you weren’t able to find your fur lined gloves and you had looked everywhere for them. Your healer’s basket hung on the crook of your arm filled with medicine for the village and an extra coat. Eskel on the other hand had barely tied his tunic that morning. You could see his dark chest hair sticking out of the opening on his torso.
“Making a cake for your birthday.”
You narrowed your eyes in slight confusion. He must have recognized the look because he quickly went on, “Would you rather I make a different pastry? Amelia said you didn’t mind cake, but that could have been a ploy for her to get more.” Eskel chuckled, gently turning yet another page. “I could try my hand at pączki if you’d prefer.”
“But why?” you asked honestly.
“A little selfish on my part but I quite like pączki. I’ve never made them before but my father used to make them when I was younger.” Eskel shrugged, “I thought perhaps you might like them as well.”
“Not the pączki, Eskel,” you rolled your eyes, setting down your basket to approach the monster hunter. “Why are you going through the trouble for this? It's just another day.”
“It’s not just another day. It’s the day you were born and we should celebrate the fact that you’re here and alive.” Eskel stepped away from the cookbook with a fraying spine. He took your face in his large hands. You let him, curious to see what sweet words left his tongue. “I want to honor one of the strongest, bravest, and most compassionate people I know. I’ve known many people in my life but none as unwavering as you.”
“Must I wait till dinner to open my presents as well?” you teased, brushing away the wetness at your eyes. Eskel seemed to take you in for a moment longer than necessary. Your heart beated quickly and he must have been taking note of it.
“After cake. Or pączki. If you don’t decide on something, we’ll have to settle for krupnik.” You laughed at Eskel’s mock exasperation. The sound was more common now that Eskel had come back. The thought should have been unnerving but you could not bring yourself to care. You found yourself chuckling more.
“Pączki. Please.” You laid a hand over the one on your cheek. Your hand was miniscule in comparison to Eskel’s but it seemed to bring warmth all the same. His scarred face heated with the faintest of blushes. You leaned forward and pressed a hesitant kiss to his cheek, the side with rigid, uneven scars. “I’m sure Amelia would love to try them.”
“Try what?” came Amelia’s voice from behind you. “What are you making Da?” You turned, not stepping away from Eskel to see your daughter rubbing the sleep from her eyes. With winter came longer, colder nights and more sleep. Amelia still wore her nightdress, the blanket from her bed draped over her shoulders.
“Good morning, Amelia,” Eskel greeted with a smile. Just as hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around your waist. His hand did not stray, it merely settled where he placed it. I’m making Pączki for your Ma’s birthday. Would you like to help me?”
Amelia’s eyes lit up like a fireplace. A mirrored smile painted Amelia’s face and she raced back to her bedroom. She returned as quickly as she had left. In her little hands was a wad of clothes. She happily held them up to you, urging you to…unravel it to find what was inside. “Happy birthday, Ma!”
Eskel watched over your shoulder as you slowly made work of the wad of clothes. Amelia really did not want anyone to know what was inside. A big knot in the middle of the work required an extra set of hands that Eskel was more than happy to provide. Eventually, the knot was dealt with and your present was revealed.
It was the fur lined gloves you spent an unholy amount of time trying to look for.
“I was wondering why you were going out without them,” Eskel smirked, a smug laugh in his tone in response to your side-eye.
*****
Amelia held Eskel’s hand in the marketplace. The spike on Eskel’s armor was returned to its proper place with many reassuring words and quite a few warm hugs. Amelia was inseparable from her gifts from Eskel. It took much pleading from both you and Eskel for her to leave wolf and goat at home while the three of you went out to run errands.
In actuality, you needed to go to the marketplace for supplies but Eskel had wanted to tag along. If Eskel was going somewhere, Amelia wanted to follow. That was how the three of you ended up in the middle of the bustling market. Some traders from the neighboring city were visiting and the whole town was out to see what goods they could bargain for. You, yourself could not miss the opportunity to get your hands on rarities.
“I hope I don’t have to remind you two to be careful,” you said to the father and daughter, hand in hand. Amelia looked up at you with the most innocent face she could muster. You knew better. “I have errands I must run and I am trusting you to stay out of trouble while I am busy. Have we come to an understanding?” This was directed at the pair but your eyes were locked onto Eskel’s. He gave you a soft smile and lightly squeezed Amelia’s hand.
“No trouble, ma’am,” he said in mock formality. His smile made the cleft in his lip stretch. Internally you scolded yourself for how much you wished to kiss it. You were in public for saint’s sake.
“Amelia?”
“No trouble, ma’am,” Amelia echoed.
*****
“Da, Da!” Amelia beckoned to Eskel, a finger pointed at the stand with steaming pastries with berry fillings. It was difficult to see her through the swarm of people passing but Eskel’s heightened senses could pick out the sound of her voice anywhere. His large body also helped with wading through the throng of townsfolk.
“Can we please get some?” She bounced up and down with excitement, grinning at the ones with a lemon custard filling. The patreis seemed to have her name written all over them.
The man behind the stand smiled down at Amelia’s eagerness. His long dark hair was tightly braided and wrapped with a cloth embroidered with lilies and lilacs. He was already wrapping a couple pastries with beeswax paper before Eskel even made it to the stand. “How much for the two?” Eskel asked with what he hoped was a friendly expression. There was little he could do about the appearance of his face.
“For your little girl? Free of charge. Just make sure she doesn’t eat them both too quickly or she’ll end up with a stomach ache.” The man handed the wrapped pastries to Amelia’s waiting hands.
“I can’t ask that of you.” Eskel reached into his pouch to pull out a few coins but they were immediately rejected.
“I have two of my own.” The man smiled at Amelia, whose face was already coated with jam filling. The red of the raspberry jam made her appear like a rabid beast digging into her kill. Eskel reached for the linen cloth you had made him pack just for this occasion. “I know how they can get when they haven’t had their morning pastries.” The man chuckled, grabbing a flask of water to wet Eskel’s cloth.
Eskel thanked him, grateful for the help. Once Amelia was relatively clean of any carnage, he tore a piece of flaky confection. The buttery layers melted in his mouth. The jam filling had just the right amount of lemon juice to cut through the sweetness. He had wanted to try the lemon custard one as well, but Amelia had taken care of it.
“Is it good?” Eskel asked, the beginning of a laugh in his mouth.
Amelia nodded through a mouthful of pastry. “Thank you, sir!” Amelia said to the vendor once she had finished chewing.
“Seeing how much you enjoyed my baked goods was payment enough. Thank you.”
Once Amelia had had her fill, she handed Eskel the beeswax paper and wandered with a promise to not go too far. Despite Amelia’s quick feet, Eskel had his heightened senses to keep an eye on things. He trusted her word. Amelia knew better to go off on her own in such a busy crowd.
“How old is she?” the vendor asked Eskel. He was also keeping an eye on Amelia. Eskel did not need to know the beat of his heart to know he was a father as well. The man’s hands were busy making sure his stand was clean but he always had sights on things around him. If Eskel had to bet, he’d say the man’s children were also running about.
“She just turned seven,” Eskel said with pride. “Yours?”
“My eldest is eight. Youngest will be five in a month.”
“I know she’s barely turned seven, but I can’t help but feel like she’s going up so fast,” Eskel admitted honestly. “I still remember when she was just six and playing in the rice fields.”
The vendor chuckled, a laugh that came from somewhere deep and old. “If I had a coin for every time I heard that.” He gave Eskel a knowing look. “They just can’t help it. One day they’re learning how to walk and the next they’re already helping you at the market. Before you know it, they’re off to start their own life.”
The fear must have been evident on Eskel’s face because the vendor’s expression softened. “They might be growing quickly but that doesn’t mean they’ll immediately forget you. Sure, they might have new interests the older they get. Some good interests, some not so much.” The vendor shrugged. “Yet they always remember you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“My brother had a little boy a decade or two ago. He was always busy with work, now with another mouth to feed he wasn’t home very often. I had to spend the majority of my nephew’s life caring for him. Then my brother got a new job that paid a hell of a lot better. He was home more often, more involved with his boy’s life.” The vendor’s hands stilled. “I always thought once the boy grew up, he’ll forget about me. Who cares about some uncle who's a baker when your father was a wealthy trader?” The man’s eyes lost their focus. A memory seemed to take him, regardless of Eskel’s presence. “But just the other day, my nephew came to visit. He has a family of his own. A kind husband and a farm all to himself. He came to thank me for what I did for him as a boy. Brought along goods from his farm, toys for the cousins, and enough stories to last me until his next visit.”
“Trust me when I say, they won’t forget you. As long as you do them well.”
Eskel did not realize a weight was on his shoulders until it was lifted. “Thank you,” was all he could think of to say. “Thank you.”
“No need.” The vendor brushed him off. “Us fathers have to stick together. Raising children is no laughing matter. It's better if we work to—”
Eskel’s head whipped around at the sound of Amelia’s abrupt stop. He had been keeping his ears opened, listening to the sound of her footsteps darting between stands. The pause in her dash had him taking long strides into the crowd. A handful of people bumped into him but once they saw the look in his eyes, they quickly darted out of his way. Soon, a path through the crowd was made for him.
Eskel listened hard and he listened close to find his daughter. The sound of her heartbeat was different from the rest. It was as familiar as his own. The quick flutter of it had his senses kicked into high gear. “I’m very sorry, ma’am.” The sound of her voice was distant but once Eskel heard it, there was nothing that could have stopped him from going to it.
Amelia was in a conversation with a well dressed woman. Two coins were in Amelia’s hands. Eskel could only guess how they ended up there. “You dropped these,” Amelia said with the most polite tone. The skip of her heart beat gave her away.
Eskel was about to step in when he saw the look on the woman’s face. “Oh my, thank you, dear,” the woman said with the biggest grin. “How sweet of you. I have quite a few coins to spare, why don’t you keep those?”
“Are you sure, ma’am. It would be very rude of me to take it. They’re yours,” Amelia thrusted her handful of coins back to the woman, urging her to take them back. Eskel did not know when Amelia had the time to become such a convincing liar. For all her talk about finding lairs, she was an expert at the craft herself. Eskel did not know whether to be impressed or disappointed.
“Oh gracious me, what saint did I please to have such a sweet girl such as you come to my aid?” The woman reached into her pouch of coins and pulled out a couple more. “Here, dear. Take these as a token of my gratitude.”
“But I couldn’t,” Amelia insisted, her expression of worry enough to convince Eskel.
“I must insist. Why don’t you go buy some sweets?” The woman turned away the hand of coins that Amelia offered. “Thank you again, dear. Have a wonderful day.”
The woman walked off just as Amelia spotted Eskel in the crowd. She at least had the decency to look sheepish at having been caught. “Hello, Da,” Amelia greeted with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.
“Hello, Amelia,” Eskel greeted in turn, raising a brow in question. “Would you please care to explain what I just witnessed?”
“She said it was a token of gratitude.”
“Must I lecture you that stealing is immoral?”
Amelia looked down, the scent of shame soon filling the crowded streets. It was acidic to Eskel’s nose. The smell was one of Eskel’s least favorites. “Are you mad with me? A-are you going to leave?”
Eskel kneeled so he was at Amelia’s level. He did not care for the dusty streets or the crowd that kept bumping into him. “Not mad, no. I’m not going to leave either.” He sighed, placing a hand on Amelia’s shoulder. “I just thought you knew better than this.”
“Are you going to tell Ma?”
“What do you think?”
“Let’s make a deal,” Amelia tired instead. Eskel did not know where she got this trait from. “Don’t tell Ma and I’ll buy you a pastry.”
“Amelia.”
“...and I’ll stop…”
“Promise?”
She nodded.
“Promise?”
“Promise,” she echoed.
Eskel raised himself onto his feet. He held out his hand as Amelia tucked the coins into a pouch he did not notice was tied around her neck. Concern made his brow furrow. There was hardly any way of stopping Amelia once she had her mind set on something. She was much like her Ma in that way. Eskel could only hope she stayed safe while doing it. That usually meant he would have to teach her how to stay safe.
“I want the lemon custard one,” he said in place of the thoughts swimming in his mind.
“I’ll get you two.”
#eskel#the witcher#fanfic#prompt#writing prompt#imagine#fanfiction#eskel x reader#witcher eskel#eskel x oc#eskel x y/n#eskel imagine#the witcher fanfiction#the witcher 3#the witcher books#the witcher games#witcher#witcher books#witcher games#witcher fanfiction#eskel x you#eskel x mom!reader#eskel x healer!reader#dad eskel#goat dad#mother!reader#father!eskel#angst#miscommunication#hurt/comfort
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What do you think about Geralts character?
Out of all the characters I've looked at for you, Geralt might just have to be the poster child of traumatic childhood experience. I mean, abandoned by his mother, watched countless brothers die, experiencing painful mutagens that can kill a boy not once but twice, abusive training methods to make the boys stronger, and then finally 20 years old or so getting out into the world only to come home at some undetermined point to find most of the school is dead and your maybe 1 of 20 left before that happens again leaving maybe 7 before they keep dying off and it's only your closest brother, some scrawny younger brother, and the fencing master [honestly I haven't a clue how these numbers work considering its the 4 in the game and then you have like 12 random Witchers in TWN and we're just going with random numbers at this point, huh Lauren?].
He is going through it, also in a state of being believed dead and also alive depending on eye-witness accounts of him being stabbed with a pitchfork much later. Yeah. Also, forewarning, this is about to get confusing as I am absolutely not going to distinguish Book from Game from Netflix and for my enjoyment I might even toss in a Hexer reference or two :)
The reception of Geralt depends on the point of view, really. Often times when described by himself there are more negative descriptors and a general 'ugly' tone, whereas people outside of Geralt find him strikingly handsome in presentation despite the scars and if he could stop glarring that be better for his face I think Yennefer mentiones? Anyway, he rarely partakes in friendships and company outside of very few friends that find themselves on his Path and his kinship bonds.
Geralt is also highly intelligent, memorizing beastieries and alchemical recipies (because also if one doesn't you wouldn't survive as a witcher long), but he is also not the brightest with interpersonal relationships. Which, I mean, most Witchers probably aren't considering they aren't really socialized as kids. But if you’re facing some unknown monster thing, he’s definitely the one you want, just don’t try to make subtle advances into his bed? Not that he’s against that, considering his relationships with certain sorceresses and the foursome he’s had, he’s no virgin, but also, say it outright don’t be coy, I suppose is what I’m saying…
Life and destiny have been unkind to Geralt, leaving him with crippling self-doubt and what I'd probably lable as paranoia but not?
He’s not a religious man, believing in his sword and his own power rather than in gods that may or may not exist. With this, eh, disbelief, he also has a regular attitude of not believing in good things happening, whether that is company or otherwise. Geralt often tries to head off any possible rejection or abuse sent his way in multiple different ways depending on the media form. In some he shows a more upfront disclosure with a hint of caution whereas others have him more gruff and snarly at it all, rejecting people preemptively. Geralt however, does manage to gain a ‘friend’ in Jaskier/Dandelion. And while Geralt sometimes is portrayed to be physically incapable of saying the word friend, others have no problem labeling his relationships for him.
Of course, this isn’t always the case, as the wonderful books have us meeting Jaskier with “He’s my friend” right from the get go, despite being opposite to who Geralt was. Later, notably in a lot of stuff I've read revolving Chireadan and Geralt, the “I’d sit on a scorpion with my bare backside if I knew it would help him”, emphasizing how strongly Geralt feels, because while I have no doubt he would risk life and limb for just about any goddamn village out there, none of those would have him needing to sit on a scorpion with a bare ass. Similarily, there also exists this quote; "There are good and bad people. You usually meet the evil ones on your path. It's the Path of fighting... violence and aggression. You were forced to walk it. But there is more... Love, frienship, poetry. They are like pearls, diamonds, rare and thus so valuable. If someone is close to you, then it is worth living for. That's most important." And I think that helps sum it up, how Geralt has lived life, except the precious gems of friendship are sometimes things he fears to hold in almost an unclean sense [not physical, more related to the ideas of Mary T. Douglas, except thats religion and this is... not?]
#geralt of rivia#character analysis#the hexer#the witcher spoilers#the witcher netflix#the witcher books#Mary T Douglas
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For the oc ask game!!! 😍😍😍
1. Class (or a general description of their skillset)
2. What was their childhood like? Who raised them? Do they have siblings?
3. Where did they grow up? A city? A village? Isolated, in the wilderness? What was it like to leave?
4. Do they pick a side in the Civil War?
5. On a scale of 1-10, how much do they hate the Thalmor? The Empire?
Five questions for the lovely Ravonna! 💖
Thank you so much for the ask dear! Also, if anyone sees this and likes Ravonna, you can check out my fic!
1. I like to think that Morrowind is the little magic corner of Tamriel, so basic magic is standard there. Everyone does it. However, Ravonna’s fascination with magic, her determination to get revenge and the fact that she’s a bit of an overachiever made her a master destruction mage. She does amazing in the other schools of magic as well. All of them except for healing. She thinks it’s pointless to fill her head with those spells when she can just buy healing potions. (she cannot do alchemy for the life of her). Of course this is going to bite her in the ass constantly. Good thing we have a certain Dragon Priest who used to be a healer ;). But don’t worry, he’s willing to share his knowledge later on. All I can say is that I can’t wait to write the scene, hehehe!
As for other skills, she thinks she is an amazing sneak. She is not. Seriously, she should stop. Getting detected by all of the draugr, giants, bears and guards isn’t very fun. She does decently with one handed weapons, all thanks to Teldryn. But she hates anything that is heavy and requires much strength. It’s enough that she walks and runs all over the place, refusing to take horses and put them into danger. Absolutely no two handed weapons and shields. She’s never used a shield in her life and would rather die than use a greatsword, or worse, an axe. She loves wearing enchanted fancy robes. She’s also a master in the art of speechcraft.
2. She had a bit of an unusual childhood. She grew up in a tavern in the city of Blacklight. The tavern was big and very beautiful. She doesn’t really know anything about her roots (yet), just that her mother brought her to the tavern and dropping dead after making the innkeeper promise he’d take care of her. And he kept his promise. The innkeeper, Endryn, along with his brother Teldryn and the tavern’s bard, Hjaldir took care of her and raised her as if she was their own daughter. She learned a bit from each of them: being determined, ambitious and strong from Teldryn, being kind, friendly and always helping those in need from Endryn and having fun, singing, being witty, charismatic, playing every instrument and not taking anything too seriously from Hjaldir. Him and Ravonna formed a strong bond. Some say it’s because they were two nords in a land full of dunmer, others say it’s because their personalities are really similar and they complete each other. Some even say they look strangely similar. I made them both and I have proof! Here you go:
Anyway, her childhood was full of love. She quickly started singing at the tavern and making friends of all ages. She proved to be quite charming. Magnetic, even. Everyone wanted to listen to her songs and her tales. She’s had her fair share of adventure in Morrowind. First with Teldryn, and then with friends from the guild of mages. And of course, many, many shenanigans. She got everyone in and out of trouble.
3. As I said before, she grew up in Blacklight, which is one of the major cities in Morrowind. The ash storms weren’t very nice. Nor was the limited food. Or the scribs. Or any Morrowind creature for that matter. The truth is she never truly felt like she belonged there, but it was a place full of fascinating stories and fond memories. A place full of love. And it will always stay like that in her heart. Leaving was unexpectedly easy for her. She was at that point in her life where she wanted to see the world and travel. However, she didn’t want to leave the way she did: on a quest to destroy the Dark Brotherhood and those responsible for Endryn’s assassination.
4. She hates politics and doesn’t understand it. Every time someone asks her about politics, she says that she’s just a bard and doesn’t want to get involved in that stuff. She doesn’t even care about the civil war at first. She's just furious that they were going to execute her and Lucien, who she was travelling with at the time. But, as time passes and she gets comfortable in the land of Skyrim, it truly saddens her that the country is falling apart because of stupid, stubborn people. As for picking a side, she’d like to knock some sense into both sides.
5. She doesn’t hate the Empire, but boy does she wish they’d be a bit less stubborn (at least make levitation legal, for Gods’ sakes). She knows that the Empire is trying to keep everything in control and that the allegiance with the Thalmor is solely too keep the peace. Speaking of Thalmor, she absolutely hates them. Anyone that thinks they’re above all, is racist, exclusivist and elitist is on her list of people she strongly dislikes. The killing and torturing that the Thamor do makes her blood boil sometimes. It’s unfair and horrible and she hopes that karma will work her magic and they end up being treated as they treat everyone else.
Thank you again for the tag and sorry for the huge essay haha. I could talk about my ocs all day. This was really fun!
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Ghirt insisted that they keep their relationship secret from his sister. But Alupa was sure Chena knew everything. She would have had to be blind not to see the way her brother treated Alupa. And even someone less sharp-eyed than Chena would have noticed the result of Ghirt and Alupa’s new bond.
One cold morning near the beginning of winter, when Ghirt had gone for his daily swim, Chena confronted Alupa as they ate breakfast together. “You are carrying my brother’s child, aren’t you?” she asked.
Alupa flushed, but she couldn’t deny it. Even her most loose-fitting clothing could no longer conceal the truth. “Please don't be angry with me,” she began nervously.
“Why should I be angry?” Chena said gently, with a smile. “I am pleased for both of you. I’m sure it will be a fine, strong child. But at the same time, I am sad for my brother.”
“Sad? I don’t understand,” Alupa said.
“No doubt he has told you that he has been with other women before. Always, they abandon him.” Chena looked down at the table as she spoke, as if afraid to meet Alupa’s eyes. “I think he will be destroyed if this happens to him again.”
“But it won’t!” Alupa protested. “I love Ghirt. I would never leave him, especially now.”
“I want to believe you truly mean this,” Chena told her. “Perhaps you love him better than the others did, because you have known what it is to be without love. So I will give you this advice: whenever Ghirt wishes to be alone, do not question him. Let him have his secrets, and you will both be happier.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Alupa began. “What secret could he have that would be so terrible?”
“It’s nothing to be frightened of,” Chena said hastily. “Please believe me. It is simply that there are things about himself my brother wishes to keep private. He would never dream of doing you any harm.”
“I must confess, you’ve confused me, Chena,” Alupa said. “But it seems a simple enough thing to do. I will allow Ghirt all the privacy he wishes.”
“Then I’m certain you will be happy together,” Chena replied, just as the subject of their discussion entered the room.
Ghirt stood looking at both women for a moment, then came forward to stand beside the table. “I see you must have told my sister the news,” he said at last.
Alupa nodded, but it was Chena who spoke. “I am so pleased for you both, Ghirt. It will be wonderful to have a child here after so many years.”
Ghirt smiled at once, seeming relieved. “Yes,” he said. “It will be good to have a whole family in this house again.”
The winter passed quickly for Alupa, as the child within her grew. She hoped it would be a boy, a son to make Ghirt proud. Ghirt assured her he would love either a boy or a girl, but Alupa felt sure he would want a boy.
Meanwhile, Ghirt and Alupa grew more and more attached to each other, and Alupa grew more and more curious about the man she now thought of as her husband. Despite Chena’s advice, she felt she needed to know everything about Ghirt. She knew he deliberately avoided her at times, especially during his morning swim, which he still took every day even when the water was bitterly cold. And she didn’t like the feeling she began to have, that the man she loved didn’t trust her enough to let her share his secrets.
At last her thoughts turned from vague doubts to suspicion. She wondered if she might not be the only woman in Ghirt’s life. It seemed the most logical explanation for his periodic disappearances: he must have another lover, probably in the village.
#fiction#fantasy#fantasy adventure#The Throne of the Sun#The Selkie's Bride#indie author#I made this
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1,000 Follower Special
Members of the DreamSMP simping for you:
Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, Technoblade, Phil, Wilbur, and Fundy
~No minor members obviously~
Dream:
When the both of you started dating he knew he couldn’t let anyone know about you.
The only two people who he trusted to know about you were George and Sapnap, solely because they knew who you were before the both of you dated.
Dream met you during Wilbur’s revolt against the SMP, you were a member of one of the villages he frequented.
Dream would constantly trade with your grandparents for ender pearls. They happened to sell the cheapest ones.
One day instead of them you were standing in their place.
The both of you clicked instantly, you laughed at his jokes, and were filled with a certain spark and fire, that had him hooked.
It was safe to say he was addicted.
He adored you, when the time came for him to cut off all the things he loved he couldn’t leave you behind.
Therefore you were the only person he’d allowed himself to have when he had to get rid of all personal attachments.
To him you were a goddess who could do no wrong, he’d kill for you.
If anyone hurt you all their lives would be gone in an instant.
He still remembered the first kiss the both of you shared, he had just gotten back from a rough battle.
Dream was practically bleeding out on your floor, you were screaming at him calling him an idiot.
You were fretting over him like a mother hen, he just felt so warm and cared for, he took off his mask to give you a crooked smile before falling into your arms.
He couldn’t help but think you looked gorgeous in your grey sweatpants, hair all messy, eyes glassy from sleep.
Another string of curses fell from your mouth as he leaned forward and captured his lips with yours.
He felt fireworks pop against his lips and you for sure tasted the blood staining in his teeth.
He then promptly passed out in your arms.
Dream woke up wrapped in your arms and on a cushy bed.
He knew you tended to his injuries he also knew when you woke up you’d beat his ass.
At the moment, he felt nurtured and tended to, Dream buried his face in your chest and smiled to himself.
You were his good girl.
GeorgeNotFound:
Waking up in the woods to a girl standing over him was certainly not how he envisioned the next stage of his life going.
She glared down at him and he hesitantly adjusted the glasses on his face, he greeted her meekly and she huffed.
She introduced herself to him and called him a pretty boy in such a condescending manner that it made his stomach wrap up in knots.
Oh no she was mean and hot.
You apparently lived very far from the SMP and had no idea how he got to where he was, maybe he slept walk or something.
You knelt beside him and grabbed his cheeks between your fingers eyeing him like you were trying to see into his soul.
He passed whatever test you had because you helped him to his feet and offered up your home to him.
Having no other options he agreed to go with you.
As months went by he realized you weren’t all that bad. You could cook, and let him sleep all he wanted.
(Mostly to try and get his energy back, but still)
He learned you knew a lot about nature and loved animals probably more than anyone else he knew.
You really were soft under that tough exterior and George loved that it was him who could make you like that.
As much as he enjoyed himself he couldn’t help but miss Sapnap and Dream.
Were they even looking for him? Dream had to care at least...right?
He felt guilty for being happy here, for being happy with you.
It took another month for George to recognize his feelings for you and as soon as he did Sapnap and Dream found him.
They both seemed to like you after he clarified that, no you didn’t kidnap him. You were a kind soul who opened your home up to him.
Dream and Sapnap looked at one other with a smirk and George’s face turned red.
The two of them left the house to let the both of you say goodbye to one another.
George wrapped you in a hug and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, much to his surprise you kissed him back.
It was hesitant and he could feel the nerves radiating off you.
He pulled away and rested his head on your forehead, he loved the flush on your face.
“Don’t be a stranger, pretty boy.”
“I won’t my savior.”
Sapnap:
At first, his flirting was just good fun, after all, he flirted with everyone.
What he wasn’t expecting was for you to flirt back just as hard and confident as he did.
It was Karl who pointed out that he’d get a faraway look in his eyes whenever he talked about you.
Sapnap didn’t get his point and Karl glared at his denseness.
“You like her Sappy Nappy.”
“What no I- Oh shit.”
That’s how Sapnap knew he was fucked, cause now all he could ever do was think about his crush on you.
Sapnap at first tried to avoid you and Karl had to knock some sense into him, saying that, that was not the way he would win you over.
Ironically, you pinned him to a tree and confronted the fire demon about his behavior.
Out of pure panic, he pressed his lips to yours, when you kissed back he was so flustered his hair caught on fire.
You had to help him put it out with water because he couldn’t calm down enough to stop the flames from shooting out of his head.
He was so flustered when you said you’d never let him live this down, but got over it the moment he felt your lips on his cheek (His hair almost went up in flames again).
From that moment on the both of you started dating.
You never minded his constant flirting with other people, he was glad too that was like some weird form of a love language to him.
When Dream betrayed George and him you were there to comfort him.
You assured him that you’d never leave his side no matter what happened.
You would kiss him all over his face and whisper sweet nothings to him whenever he looked too lost in thought.
He loved it. He loved being spoiled rotten.
When Karl and he moved to the Konoko Kingdom you were right by his side, you helped build your shared home from the ground up.
You were his little Firecracker.
Technoblade:
You were Phil’s little helper.
For as long as Technoblade knew his old friend you were by his side, you were quiet and tended mostly to the angel’s flock of crows.
At first, The Blade thought nothing of you just the girl who always followed Phil around.
Until he saw you stab through the chest of one of the Butcher’s army soldiers like they were butter.
The blood that splattered your face and the unbothered look shook him to his very core.
Oh no, you were hot.
Technoblade was shaken out of his stupor by you handing him one of the weapons he had lost in the fight.
You softly asked if he was alright to which he responded with a soft nod, his face was red and you raised an eyebrow.
He noticed a cut across your shoulder blade and reached out to touch the wound.
You flinched at the touch and cradled the wounded shoulder with your hand, with a soft grumble he offered to patch up your shoulder.
In the bathroom of his house he stitched up your shoulder, you let out of whines of pain.
The voices liked that way more than they should’ve and it made his face turn beat red.
You looked up with him through your long lashes and he melted, the voices assuring him that he was ‘down bad.’
Phil came home and caught the both of you staring into one another’s eyes and he gave Technoblade a knowing smirk.
The glare he sent his old friend was piercing.
As days rolled into months his feelings for you never faded, especially since the both of you had grown closer.
Eventually, Phil had forced Technoblade to at least ask you on a date, you dropped the birdseed at your feet and flushed up to the tips of your ears.
You agreed eagerly and Technoblade was relieved.
He had kissed you that night under the stars, it was a spur of the moment thing, the moonlight illuminated your best features.
The voices couldn’t help themselves and he just listened impulsively
Technoblade was relieved when you kissed him back, he’d protect you from all the horrors of government.
You were his Princess.
Philza:
He’s lived for decades, seen those he loved grow old and pass away.
That’s why he liked Technoblade, he lived as long as he had, had the same experiences as the angel of death.
Phil swore he’d never love again, then he met you.
You lived next to him when he was living in New L’manburg and thought you were very pretty as well as very friendly.
He didn’t know much about you only that:
You were fond of Ghostbur and he seemed to be fond of you.
It made Phil happy that someone else was looking after his dead son when he couldn’t.
Ghostbur had officially introduced the two of you a few weeks before Technoblade’s execution.
After that moment, you both were practically inseparable.
You bonded over your love for building and all things shiny, he broke his own rule.
He fell in love with you.
When he caught wind of what the butcher army was planning on doing to Technoblade he frantically sent a crow to his companion.
He was promptly placed under house arrest.
You snuck in through his window once everyone departed for Technoblade’s retirement home and helped Phil disable his ankle bracelet.
Phil pleaded for you to join him when he went to check up on Technoblade and you agreed wholeheartedly.
The both of you flew towards Techno’s but it was already too late, they had him.
You and Phil didn’t intervene.
After the execution, he introduced you to Technoblade and he seemed satisfied with you sticking around.
Anyone who helped Phil out was a friend of his
You both acted like an old married couple.
Technoblade was dumbstruck to find out the both of you hadn’t had a first kiss yet let alone started dating.
Phil hit him upside the head for that comment but it urged the old man forward to make his move on you.
He set up a lovely dinner date, a homecooked meal by the fire was just what the both of you needed.
You kissed him at the end of the night.
It was soft and sweet just like you were, his hands tangled in your hair as he pressed close to you.
You were his angel
Wilbur:
After Sally, he was sure he’d never love again.
That mantra lasted years, but after he won freedom for L’manburg, he had met you.
You were a crew member of Captain Puffy’s ship and he always did love watching the boats come and go from the ocean.
You had arrived in L’manburg alongside Puffy and he fell for you hard and fast.
He was a blushing, stuttering mess as you smirked over at him.
You were strong and tough and he wanted nothing more than for you to pin him against a wall.
After talking with Puffy you decided to stay in L’manburg and get a feel for the country, Wilbur was ecstatic.
He showed you around all proud of what he created, you interlocked your hands with his and he felt faint.
The two of you were an item not soon after.
Fundy approved, happy his father was finally moving on plus he loved your take no shit attitude.
They both loved when you sang the best.
You always had a wide assortment of sea shanties to share, and a plethora of stories to tell.
You had taught a few of them to Wilbur so he could play them on his guitar, another great bonding moment he remembered fondly.
When you sang it was the only time he ever considered you soft.
Before Wilbur announced the results of the election you had done the very thing he hoped you would do when he first met you.
Grab him by the hair, pin him against a wall and give him a heated kiss that made his knees weak.
“Go get them, Wilby.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Losing was not something either of you foresaw. You ran away with him and Tommy to join Pogtopia.
You were by his side in his slow descent into his eventual madness and stayed by his side up until his inevitable death.
As he slowly died in you and Phil’s arms you sung to him one final time.
He told you he loved you on his last breath.
You were his muse.
Fundy:
Being left at the altar was one of the most horrifying experiences Fundy had ever had the displeasure of going through.
You’d been there when Dream left with George, you had threatened to stab out the man’s eyes.
You stayed beside him the entire night, you refused to take no for an answer.
Fundy had never been more vulnerable than he was with you that night.
He was embarrassed at first but you shushed him and assured him it was alright.
Fundy flushed and felt guilty for doing so, he shouldn’t feel that way around you.
Your hand reached up to pet his ears and he began to purr loudly in your arms.
Eventually, Fundy realized he had feelings for you.
Much like Sapnap, he went to immediate Panic Mode.
He didn’t want for this to end up like Dream again, not that you were anything like him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin your friendship.
However, much to his surprise it was you who confessed to him.
Fundy said he felt the same before you even finished your confession.
His tail was wagging rapidly and he had to physically hold it down to stop it from wagging
Which was something you laughed at but he felt embarrassed about, you had to assure him that you thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.
He whined at that but you kissed all over his cheeks so he had to immediately forgive you.
Fundy introduced you to Wilbur who grilled you about your love for Fundy, he wanted to kill his dad.
You assured him that you loved Fundy, and would never want to hurt him.
Wilbur seemed satisfied with your response and wished both of you well.
After Wilbur left, Fundy kissed your lips softly, his tail once again wagging rapidly.
As he pulled away you leaned back in and kissed him back, your hand gently stroked his ears and he purred again.
He knew for sure he was going to marry you, and it wouldn’t end up like Dream and his wedding.
However, that was still a long way away.
For now, he just had to settle for you being his dream girl.
~~~
Hey guys! Thank you so much for 1,000 followers??? I am honored and shocked thank you all so much! Thank you to everyone who send me supportive messages and my amazing anon’s who member fail to cheer me up. Many more stories and projects are in the works but I wanted to do something special and different for the big 1,000. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy 😊
#dreamsmp x reader#dreamsmp x you#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#minecraft fanfiction#minecraft x reader#minecraft x you#minecraft youtubers x reader#minecraft youtuber x you#dream x reader#dream x you#georgenotfound x reader#georgenotfound x y/n#wilbur soot x reader#technoblade x reader#technoblade x you#wilbur soot x you#dream x y/n#x reader#y/n#sapnap x you#sapnap x reader#fundy x y/n#fundy x reader#fundy x you#philza x reader#philza minecraft x you#philza x you#wilbur soot x y/n#mcyt x y/n
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Ok but what if the roommate fell for Kazuha's "soft boy act" and asked Scaramouche to not get so close?
I assume murder, but since it's more modern...
(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/thoughts, obsession, implied stalking, implied blackmail, implied nsfw, mention of non-con fingering)
Scaramouche is absolutely fuming when you tell him to back off from Kazuha. Did he just hear that correctly? You want him to stay away from his best friend because you think he’s getting too close for comfort? He actually laughs when you say that; it’s a short chuckle that forces its way out of his throat in an abrupt way. You’re living in another world if you think he’s going to distance himself from one of his only friends (of course you don’t know how many people qualify as his friends, thankfully) just because you’re envious.
The thing about Kazuha is that he’s so…gentle. He’s not anything like Scara, who has the mouth of a sailor and constantly complains about every little thing that ticks him off. Kazuha’s energy is calming and kind. Just the other day he came back to the apartment with a houseplant because he wanted to be a plant parent with you. Isn’t that absolutely adorable? On top of that, he’s always been considerate and polite. He never crosses any boundaries, nor does he pry into your life when it’s obvious you don’t want to talk about certain things. He’s perfect boyfriend material: sweet, well-mannered, and perceptive. He’s always the first to pick up on the energy in the room or the way you might be feeling, even if the emotion doesn’t show clearly on your face.
On the other hand, Scara is loud. He’s quick to pick fights, tends to look on the negative side of things, and has enough anger and sarcasm stored in his small body to power an entire village. He’s not your ideal type. This is the same guy who complained about the plant Kazuha got because ‘raising a plant is stupid and you’ll just end up killing it in the end.’ You’re not sure why Kazuha even puts up with him or why they’re so close. You hate to admit it, but they are good friends. They just click in that weird way best friends do. Even if they might not have much in common in terms of personality, they still have one of the closest bonds you’ve ever seen.
And it’s troublesome. You want to go on an outing with just Kazuha, but somehow Scara always ends up joining at the very last minute. You like Kazuha—truly, you do—but does he really have to invite Scara to every little thing? It’s not like he’s going to shrivel up from loneliness if you and Kazuha are gone for a few hours. You get that he’s just being nice and wants to include his friend, but it still manages to fill you with envy.
Scara’s annoyed when the demand leaves your lips, harsh and biting. Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, but he finds it to be rather amusing. Another thing about Scara: he’s petty. So infuriatingly petty. And just because you told him to back off he’s going to make it his mission to get as close to Kazuha as he can, and since they’re best friends it’s not weird at all. His relationship with Kazuha is stronger than the one you have with him and he’s going to use that to his advantage. Throughout the rest of the week, Scara is like a leech. He clings to Kazuha whenever he can, sitting beside him at the table and on the sofa, walking in the middle of the both of you, interrupting your conversations to show Kazuha a picture of a cute cat he saw on his walk home. And Kazuha always answers him. Always, always, always.
Scara knows you’re annoyed. He can see it on your face when he shoots you a sidelong smirk as he rests his head on Kazuha’s shoulder, feigning sleepiness during one of your many movie nights. You’re forced to watch every moment of this. Best friends for life, huh? You never thought you’d be so bothered by that, but you are and you hate it.
However being best friends with Kazuha has its perks. Scara knows more about him than you ever will—knows all of his little habits and quirks and the darkness that’s hidden behind a pure smile and a cute chuckle. You might see Kazuha as the adorable, declawed cat that purrs lovingly, but that’s not the real Kazuha. The Kazuha Scara knows has claws and they cut deep. Just take a peek into his secret diary and you’ll find all sorts of disturbing things. Macabre poetry, entries all about you and the people you’re close to, and notes about your favorite things. There’s even an entry about how many times you yawned in one day. He’s really creepy, isn’t he?
Normal roommates don’t keep track of those things. Normal roommates don’t watch you while you sleep and hold murderous grudges on all of the people who treat you poorly. Normal roommates don’t linger near the bathroom door and listen in while you shower, nor do they trail after you when you go out for your nightly runs. But Kazuha isn’t a normal roommate and you can’t see that because you’re so enamored with a side of him that only exists in your head. If anything it’s Kazuha who should back off. He’s spending way too much time with you; it’s starting to get under Scara’s skin. It’s not fair that want to spend all of your time with him. Scara’s your roommate, too! Don’t you want to hang out with him?
It’s okay, though. This sort of love is a competition and Scara is playing to win. He can easily show you the side of Kazuha that’s kept hidden. It’ll be easy to keep Kazuha in line when he’s constantly teetering between the cute guy you’d meet at a coffee shop and the obsessive stalker who hangs onto your every word. But in the same fashion that Scara can blackmail him, Kazuha also has dirt on Scara. He might seem oblivious, but he listens very well. Kazuha knows all sorts of disturbing facts about Scara. He’s just as gross as he is. Scara might not keep a journal about you, but he’s got other things stored on his phone and laptop. Recordings of your voice, pictures of you in compromising positions, and a video of you masturbating.
Kazuha knows all about those videos and photos because he provided Scara with some of them. He’s good at that. You never suspect a thing. If you were to find that incriminating stuff on Scara’s laptop, what would you think? He’s downright horrible. You’d think that, right? That he’s just some gross pervert who gets off to your vulnerability when you sleep. That all he wants to do is bend you over the nearest surface and shut you up with his dick when you argue with him. And you’ll believe it because the evidence is right there. Kazuha would never do anything like that. It’s not like he has a video of him fingering you while you sleep. And so what if he does? You wouldn’t know.
He’s too cute to harbor twisted depravity, after all.
But Scara’s aware of what he’s really like. You’re just a fool if you fell so easily for his soft boy act. He will admit (much to his dismay) that Kazuha’s an outstanding actor. He can charm anyone with just his smile alone. That’s some serious talent. Too bad he uses it for all the wrong reasons. Although Scara can’t really complain because that same charming attitude gets him videos and pictures and just about anything he could ever want. So it’s okay if you continue to fall for Kazuha. It gives him more time to think and plan.
Scara has his own private plans to make you his, and he’s hellbent on succeeding.
#genshin chit chat#yandere scaramouche#yandere kaedehara kazuha#kazuscara roommates#i feel like kazuha would be more prone to murder than scara#i just get that vibe from him#but that's a discussion for another time hehe#of course he wouldn't dream of hurting scara#but the two of them find little ways to trip each other up#they're besties but are they really if they're constantly throwing the other under the bus in order to curry favor with you?#yes they're still besties under all of that#because if they weren't they wouldn't be able to share the videos of you they took#and enjoy them together when you aren’t home#real recognizes real after all <3
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Brain going brrr for Shen Jiu food today sosisosl
So hear me out, modern au. Shen Jiu doesn’t remember anything of their past live(s) and is a relatively famous internet chef. Like he has a PO Box and everything for his fans to send gifts or letters for him to personally read and tell them either what to do or that he’s proud, he never shows his face though, a deathly fear of being found, but by who? His young son, Ming Fan, is all but excited to be Shen Jiu’s direct bloodline in this life. Shen Qingqiu was always his father figure in the first life, but the second he got hurt or something and started caring for that nasty LBH.
Sometimes, Shen Jiu feels unsafe when out on the street and going about his day to day life. He doesn’t know why but certain faces of public figures terrify him. A little lady on the street selling hand made jewelry and staring at him like she’s seen a ghost makes him physically sick. God, he despises the face of this rather famous actor, Luo Bing-something?? He hates this confusing feeling that seemed to come of nowhere. That doesn’t stop them from trying to approach once they see him.
Women in fancy clothes and strong perfume dote on him and he practically melts in their arms. Confused on how they know his name but more than happy to chat about life. They seem happy for him, ecstatic even! Men in suits ranging from serious CEO to flashy idols would stop their cars and holler at him for his time of day. He despises men like that and gives them no acknowledgement while he continues on his way. If he’s lucky they have a tight schedule, if not they follow him to the grocery store and corner him in the frozen section while he picks out treats for his son. Two men have tried that and were met with a smack by popsicles. Social media was set a blaz when videos of this Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge cornered the same man on different days and tried harassing him. Of course their stans refused to believe it was their fault. It MUST be the pretty man minding his business throughout the proof on the grocery camera. The companies dared to contact him afterwards and SJ happily sent back his lawyers information and video proof of their ‘important persons’ harassment and stalking.
One was bold enough to publicly announce that they were looking for him at a political event. Broadcasted nationwide. Shen Jiu felt nothing but disdain for that Yue man. Who says “I’m looking for a man I haven’t seen since I was young and dumb.” During a political conference?? Just because you know it’s being broadcasted!? His fans during a livestream asked what he thought about it and he angrily said that Yue man was a fool! An absolute clown for thinking that wishing some guy that doesn’t even know him will come looking for him just because he said his name!
He never had a bad experience with women until one scowled at him and he instinctively scowled back. He had his son with him that day and was trying to not be hounded. But this woman continued to follow him and berate his clothing, his hair. He could handle scrutiny of himself but the moment she said anything about Ming Fan, be it his appearance or his mother, he drew the line. Wiping around to face this despicable woman and spitting the iciest response he could without scaring Ming Fan. He remembered seeing her on a magazine before. Some model or washed up actress. God help her when he posts the body cam footage his partner made him wear after the second Grocery store incident. She scoffed at him and just continued to point and jeer at him. Wondering if the others were only following him for his pretty face. Others?? The men that harassed him and the girls that scurried with their tail between their legs?? Shen Jiu is starting to think it’s time to move. He desperately wants to mind his business and live his life but they seem adamant on harassing him.
So he does! He announces it on a video after the fact so that they can’t find him even if they try to. Perks of dating a rich ceo, anonymity is quite easy with money!
Shen Jiu happily married his now hubby and they have many more kids with Ming Fan adoring them all. He refuses to be nice to this one lady at his school that tries to be friendly with him and will run crying to SJ, who remembers her as the jewelry stand girl, and he immediately has his son in a different class. Life going well for the man who was claimed to be evil in past lives, meanwhile the others are crumbling day by day now that he’s missing and they can’t seem to find him, no matter what. (NYY may have stalked him to the remote village but she wouldn’t tell the others. She can’t risk making Shizun hate her more). The ones that harassed her were publicly pitted by their companies and forced to apologize to him specifically. When word got out that Shen Jiu vanished it did NOT look good for them.. LBH had the wrath of his mother and LQG had a mother and grandmother to fear. QQQ was fired and black listed from the media. She would have just apologized if she had insulted the man himself, but following and insulting the child too? The media scorned her already shitty gossip personality. Any time she tried to get on tv they would turn on his and snicker about her cancellation. YQY lived lavishly, but lonely. He had a political marriage and no children. He refused to touch his wife. No matter what she would say all he could do is smile and apologize. Work wise things were going well. Since they didn’t have a punching bag to push everything on and the other politicians seemed to work smoothly despite disagreements, he had no real need to focus on work 24/7. But he did. He was always in his office scouring the internet for Xiao Jiu.
SY and SQH weren’t mentioned because they literally wouldn’t do anything different from usual. They wouldn’t even meet their past life husbands (LBH would think SY is a fan and just give his usual charm and leave. He’s already found SJ, this man is just a fake clearly). SQH wouldn’t have the chance to get MBJ, the neet writer would see him once and fumble his words. Probably earning a scoff as MBJ walked off to go meet his peer/partner. The two millennials would probably bond online over a story and get close. Maybe a failed relationship but remained friends.
TLDR; Everyone reincarnated and their lives fall apart if they don’t change their attitude towards SJ. SJ doesn’t remember them and just wants to raise his baby MF in peace. Jobs are lost and public relations are plummeting because these fools couldn’t find healthier ways to reconnect with SJ.
#shen jiu#svsss#shen qingqiu#ming fan#gong yixiao#yue qingyuan#liu qingge#luo binghe#it’s both Bingge and Bingmei memories in him#shen yuan#scrub#shang qinghua#mobei jun#qi qingqi#warm red pavilion ladies#honestly giving Gong yixiao a happy ending with pretty jiumei is so nice#nice n warm#ning yingying#she deserves nothing but isolation#no redemption from Jiumei!#loving the idea of SXY smacking the shit o it if LbH for harassing SJ after murdering him before#TLJ just happy to have his wife back and their scarily similar to himself son…#yQy gets divorced probs#or murdered by his wife#lQG is forced into a political marriage to distract him from SJ#it doesn’t work#he ignores his wife to hunt down SJ to apologize
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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village
Rating: T+ for language
Warnings: None
Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy.
Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter
5.5: Family
i.
“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.
“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.
“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.
“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.
“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.
“Amen to that, for sure.”
ii.
“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.
“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.
“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?
“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.
“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.
“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”
“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.
Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.
iii.
“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.
A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.
When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.
“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).
“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.
“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.
“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.
“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.
A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.
“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?
iv.
“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.
“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.
“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.
“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.
#cassandra x reader#cassandra dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu x reader#lady dimitrescu#resident evil: village#re8 village#yeah I'm back#don't be weird about it
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Boxes: a Sesshoumaru & Rin father/daughter oneshot.
Summary: Sesshoumaru and Rin discuss their bond.
Made in response to today's events. I needed some catharsis.
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"Sesshoumaru-sama?"
Golden eyes slid open, drowsy at first, before blinking and sliding up to Rin. He arched a brow, noting the distress in her scent.
"What ails you?" he uttered, shifting against the tree he was currently reclined against that overlooked the village.
Rin fiddled with her hands and chewed her lip, scuffing a bare foot against the ground. Even as a teen she hadn't lost some habits.
"Its just that I'm confused about some things people were saying in the village, so... I was wondering if I could talk to you about them."
Sesshoumaru gestured elegantly to one side of the tree, inviting her to sit beside him. Rin plopped down and hugged drawn up knees to her chest.
Noticing the silence and slightly concerned by it from the normally talkative girl, Sesshoumaru took it upon himself to prompt answers from her. "What did the fools say?"
His ward huffed and pouted, "that's not a nice thing to call them, Sesshoumaru-sama," she mumbled, soon sighing and reluctantly continuing. "Well, it was mostly some older women. They were talking about how I'm 'of age now.' I tried to say I wasn't interested in anyone but then... they started talking about marriage prospects."
Sesshoumaru listened quietly, feeling distaste mar his lips into a faint sneer. The girl was no more than 15.
Rin picked at some lush grass, gaze averted. "They mentioned you," she said off handedly, causing him to stiffen. "I got confused. Sesshoumaru-sama doesn't call R-Rin is his daughter," she slipped up, reverting into her old trait of referring to herself in third person. A fresh wave of confusion and distress rolled into her scent, sickly and rotten like dying flowers. "So maybe they're right? They said that it's natural since we've known each other so long and have a bond. You're kind to me. Protect me. You're a man and Rin is a woma-"
"Enough, Rin."
He hadn't meant his tone to slip into one so biting. Youki spilt through his hair, making it flicker slightly, markings emboldening. He closed his eyes to snuff out a burning red gaze. Taking a calming breath, he gave a measured response. "I do not outwardly call you my daughter, no. And correct, we have a bond. Perhaps I am 'nicer' to you than most," he allowed, finally looking down at her and meeting her teary gaze. "But why should that automatically mean romance for us?"
Rin rubbed at her eyes, blinking. "They said its considered 'normal' for humans to marry young and that you wouldn't have protected me for no reason."
Sesshoumaru's claws twitched at his side. Somehow he mercifully kept hold his patience and didn't immediately fly off to have a word with these people. "Perhaps it is normal for them, but that has no bearing on us. This one protected you because you are pack."
Rin thought about this for a moment, "like Jaken and Ah-Un?"
"Hn," his lips twitched. "And you do not see me offering marriage proposals to Jaken, do you?"
A shaky giggle escaped her, "well I haven't seen any, but maybe in private..."
Sesshoumaru huffed with amusement and placed a palm on her head, messing up wild hair and eliciting a squeal that ran into a whine.
The amusement abated however, and Sesshoumaru found himself gazing down at her soberly. True she was no gaped toothed child anymore, but he could not see her in any other light than as... Rin. Rin who liked flowers. Rin who cuddled with dragons. Rin who walked around with mud caked onto her feet and hair. Rin who sang songs. Rin who was small, frightened and sobbed from nightmares featuring sharp toothed creatures tearing her limb from limb. Rin who had died twice before the age of 8. Rin, who needed a guardian. A protector. One stable thing unchanging in her life of confusion, upset and trauma. More than anything. He doubted he'd ever be capable of seeing her as a woman no matter how she changed, nor did he wish to.
"Perhaps it is my fault," he rumbled quietly. "This one is not in the habit of stating things out loud. I should have explicitly said that I see you as...part of my group."
Rin suddenly beamed, sniffing. "You're not to blame, Sesshoumaru-sama. That's just how you are. You like Inuyasha a little better now but you still don't call him your brother."
"Hn, half brother," he said, cutting his eyes to the sky and stroking her head of dark hair.
"I will change my habits, if only to silence those wagging tongues spreading rumors. Or I could rip them out," he mused casually, tone deceptively soft.
Rin winced, "that's a little far," she said, shifting and removing his large hand from her head, studying it. "... I don't think I... see you in a romantic light," she concluded on her own. "Maybe that's weird. They seemed to think that I should. "
"It is not weird," he stated firmly. "How do you think of me?"
Rin was still impressionable, but now that she'd spoken her thoughts aloud, they'd become unclouded. "Like a Papa, but not quite. It's hard to say," she hummed. "My guardian," she settled on. "Definitely someone who will protect me like a Papa."
"Humans often like to box relationships into something they can understand. Familial or romantic," Sesshoumaru uttered, squeezing her fingers. "Demons are not that way. Platonic relationships come easier to us to recognise. Perhaps I should not have left you in the village after all if this is what they're preparing you to think."
Rin quickly waved her hands, "oh no! I still enjoy the village! Kagome-sama seemed angry with the ladies and told me not to listen. I just... wanted to ask you. I trust you."
She trusted him to tell her what was right. To do the correct thing. In the wrong hands, that trust could be manipulated. Become something dark.
Sesshoumaru gentled, nodding. He then leaned back against the tree. "Rin," golden eyes slid to her, serious. "You can marry someone else, if you wish to. If you do not, don't. What do you want?"
Rin pursed her lips and frowned, "I'm not sure. Maybe I'll be a herbalist. Maybe I'll be a demon Slayer!" she gave a cheeky grin, showing her dimples. "But I don't think I'm ready for marriage and babies yet."
Sesshoumaru felt a mild wave of relief wash over him. "And you understand that nothing will change our bond as it is now? You are my ward. There is... Happiness, to be found in that. Far more than some might think. It is not a downgrade from something romantic."
Rin nodded in agreement, giving a smile and hugging his side briefly.
As she stood and removed a leaf from her hair, muttering a thanks in preparation to leave, the demon formulated some words on his tongue. They felt strange and foreign to speak aloud, but they were necessary. As he'd said before, humans needed to place relationships into boxes. He would willingly put himself in the appropriate one, if it meant bringing her comfort.
"Farewell, daughter."
Earthy brown eyes swung to him. Rin froze, looking younger then, childlike, wonderful joy brightening her face. Something seemed to visibly settle over her, a blanket of ease and comfort. Like she'd found the thing needed. It wasn't a bereavement to be rejected by him. To reject the notion of romance. Their happiness and bond as ward and Lord, was more fulfilling than any humans trivial assessment of their relationship.
"See you later, Papa," Rin gave a wave, hurrying away with her long legs, gangly form drawing away.
Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the rough tree bark. There would perhaps come a time when he would watch her dance with her partner barefoot at her wedding, or maybe she'd never be wed. Whatever Rin chose to do, a certain silver inuyoukai would keep vigil over her life. She had suffered greatly, and brought him quiet joy, the way only a pup could.
Thin lips curved, and Sesshoumaru lazily sunbathed for the rest of the afternoon, watching over the village silently beneath the refuge of his tree.
#inuyasha#Sesshoumaru#Rin#Anti Sessrin#Anti Yashahime#Sesshomaru#Posted on Ao3 if you want to find it
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For your Tobirama raises Naruto AU, where’s Tsunade in all of it?
Okay this ask has been sitting in my inbox forever because my ADHD ass forgot BUT I FINALLY remembered SO HERE IT GOES!! Hope you’re ready for some feels.
Tsunade is still very much in this!! However ! Because I like family drama, she isn’t in the village in the beginning. Why? Because she and Tobirama weren’t on speaking terms due to a bad row they had a few years back.
It happened some time after Dan’s death and Tsunade, already at her limit and grieving at not only so many losses but just being tired of war in general, began to get disillusioned by the image and what the Hokage represented. Mito was still alive when around this time and she tried comforting her granddaughter but Tsunade wouldn’t hear any of it, even so far as snapping at her grandmother. Tobirama had overheard and he intervened , which led to him and Tsunade arguing.
In her anger and grief combined they exploded into harsh words that came out of her mouth, insulting the village, the title of Hokage and even gojng as far as insulting her grandfather and Tobirama himself, calling them jokes. Tobirama wouldn’t stand by and let her insult his brother and everything they had worked hard to build for and in a cold manner of tone— he told her to leave. If she was so sick and tired of everything the village stood for, then she should just leave.
And she did.
Tobirama had never regretting something so much in his life after everything died down.
Tsunade would eventually come to regret that argument too but at that point she had been gone from the village, she masks that shame under anger and says she will never apologize but we all know both of them are too stubborn to step up first.
I’m still trying to figure out how she would return to the village but I’m thinking maybe?? after the Konoha crush arc or most likely something before ( I tend to be everywhere in the timeline with my hcs with this au ) where they probably needed her experience and skill back in Konoha ( i stated that Minato and Tobirama don’t get together until Naruto is 9 or 10 so I’m trying to be consistent here ) . At first they asked Tobirama to go and seek her out seeing how they’re family but he said it was probably best he didn’t, because he’s pretty sure Tsunade doesn’t want to see him, even after all these years.
Jiraiya brings her back eventually but Damn do she and Tobirama avoid each other like the plague.
Tobirama is certain she doesn’t want to see him and she’s pretty sure he’s still angry at her, after all , her uncle can hold grudges .
Eventually it’s Minato who encourages Tobirama to take that first step to mend their bond and be a family again ( this is before they’re together , okay I think I figured it out ) and Tobirama would sigh and agree while at the same time it’s Shizune who convinces Tsunade to talk to Tobirama ( which makes this hurt SO MUCH BECAUSE SHIZUNE LOST HER UNCLE AND TSUNADE STILL HAS HERS AND IM AAAAAHHHH )
Tsunade would return to the Senju Estate just as Tobirama was getting ready to head out and find her, it’s a little nerve racking for them both before Tobirama would break the silence and smile at his niece and say “ Welcome home… “
They slowly mend their bond , apologizes are traded, laughter, tears, memories and once more they become family.
Afterwards, Tsunade becomes involved in their lives, and she’s the one who would encourage her uncle to FINALLY confess his love to Minato just “ For fucks sake uncle, you two are practically raising a kid together, go for it !! “ and once she learns they’re finally together, she demands to be compensated for all those lovestruck gushes with a fuck ton of food, liquor and money.
Because Minato is Hokage here, I sadly have to make the choice of not making Tsunade Hokage here because it just wouldn’t fit or I can’t think of a reason for Minato to give up the Hokage title BUT she does take over and become head of the Konoha hospital and turns it into the best fucking healthcare system ever once more because she’s a girlboss like that . She becomes the best older cousin/big sister to Naruto, who insists on still calling her Grandma Tsunade much to her annoyance and Tobirama’s amusement .
#sorry I took like forever#thus I made this an essay just for you#*kisses your forehead*#mwah!#god I miss this au#maybe I’ll take a break from deity au#:: koko speaking!#tobimina raise naruto au#hcs
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