THAT drawer

He came from a military family, was raised with strict discipline, which gave him a stern and rigorous manner.

He's a huge man, tall and very well-built. Very. Intimidating. You would have stayed as far away from him as possible if not for your curiosity.

At the start of your relationship, you relied a lot upon Atreus- Kratos's son- to be the middleman of your conversation. After a lot of "practice" and determination, you're now confident to read his emotions and have a general understanding of what he's trying to say (but not saying).

He was a general in his country, then got a dishonorable discharge. Got into business with the local cartel for a while, brought down the cartel single-handedly, and is now an independent contractor doing construction work. You often joke that he should get his life story made into a movie.

You love that under all the hard shell and tough demeanor is a big warm heart. While he secretly admires you wearing your heart on your sleeves- although he worries from time to time for you rarely let your guard up.

He doesn't talk about his past much, even after dating you for some time. It was frustrating at first, you thought he either didn't trust you or wasn't serious about the relationship. After some heated arguments, you two finally talked it out. You'd patiently wait till the day he's ready to open up about his past, and it would be perfectly fine if he never want to.

Speaking of heated arguments, it is rare to happen. He's a very logical person and straightforward. And slowly he's learning to open up and communicate more.

He had 2 marriages before, both gave him bitter-sweet memories. On your anniversary, with Atreus's help, you dug out the very few photos he had of his family, framed them yourself (with handmade wooden frames, you had multiple cuts following those tutorials on youtube), and gave it to him over dinner.

You were so nervous that he might see it as crossing his boundaries that you thought you'd throw up, instead he almost choked up.

You helped him hang up the photos on the entry wall afterward.

And he started liking his pictures taken especially when it's with you.

Atreus gave him a film camera for his birthday. So he started the hobby of photography, and even learned how to develop photos.

He writes poems for you.

You submitted some of his photos to a local photography contest, and he won the second prize.

He prefers the old-school stuff, for the life of him couldn't catch up with all the new techs. And he hated using smart phones. Later you found out it was because his fingers are too thick for a small smart phone screen, so you got him an ipad. Now he facetime everybody if he needs anything and puts the tablet by his ear to listen.

Drives a 4 -door pickup, and wouldn't let anyone drive his precious car. Not even Atreus.

You often buy him clothes, knowing he would look good in either style- also knowing that if you don't care about what he wears he would wear whatever flannel he has in his closet- often with some holes.

He does not care about whether it's hot or cold, he basically wears the same thing all the time. You don't know how he is warm when he's only wearing a t-shirt in the snow, while you wrapped yourself up like an onion

Not like you wanna complain though, it's nice to have a human heater in bed keeping your feet warm.

Has a friend called Mimir, a somewhat hippy-looking man. He helps with Krato's company's finance and other paperwork stuff. Unlike his appearance, according to Kratos, he's actually very smart.

You often wonder how these two people become friends in the first place.

adult!Atreus

Works at a wildlife rescue organization, and travels all the time to help all sorts of animals.

You two met on a rescue mission. He admires your compassion and love towards the animals, and you love his capability of handling hurt and tense beasts.

When you first met, he had a full head of braided locs. He claimed that since he couldn't grow a full and luscious beard, he overcompensate with his hair.

Likes braiding your hair, and you'd let him do it because he can do all sorts of braids and does it better than you.

Used to participate in archery tournaments when he was still in school, won lots of trophies and medals. Now he plays amateur games.

He brought you to an archery range for your first date. You being competitive thought it would be a piece of cake. But couldn't even draw the bow string.

You thought you were going to impress him, instead, he impressed you with extreme patience and well-articulated instructions. You were able to hit a target after half a day's training thanks to him.

He loves to read. You planned a treasure hunt at the bookstore for your anniversary, looking for books to gift each other and to read together. He always talked about it to his friends, showing off how thoughtful you are.

He just loves showing you off to people.

He's as stubborn as a mule. Whatever he set his mind to, no one could change his mind. Sometimes you admire his level of determination, other times you wanna bang your head on the wall.

He has a huge dog named Fenrir, Atreus rescued him when he was just a little puppy. The first time you visit his house, Fen tackled you- it was almost traumatizing. Atreus told you it was because Fen really liked you, and he doesn't usually take a liking to people.

Of course he would be a prankster, often pulling small pranks on you (harmless though), you are constantly amazed at how creative he is, and would often laugh at these pranks together.

At first you were scared of his father, a big man who rarely speaks let alone smiles. Sometimes you wonder if he really loves his son, when he barely gave Atreus any response to whatever he was sharing

Plus , what loving parent lets their kids call them "sir"?

Later in your relationship, after many childhood stories Atreus shared with you, you realized how wrong you were. You apologized to Kratos over family dinner.

When you two have a fight, he'd storm off, usually out of the house. He'd return after a few hours with flowers or other gifts to apologize, and would be cool to sit down and talk about your issues.

Freya

She's a florist/herbalist, has a dainty flower shop on the street where you live. Before you two got together you often went and got flowers for your mother.

She'd insist that you pursued her first.

Has lots of plants in the apartment, and a small herbal garden on the balcony.

If you're good with plants, she'd argue which plant loves her the most. If not, you're forbidden from even going near her babies.

The pair of you each own a cat before your relationship, but somehow both of the cats seem to like/obey her more.

She has published several books about herbalism, led a few workshops, and there's a small community on social media praising her work. You often joke that it's her little cult.

Your parents adore her, especially your mother. Whenever you two went over for dinner they'd hang out in the kitchen, cooking and chatting. To your parents, Freya would be the one to go to for opinions of stuff instead of you.

Your mother knits her a sweater every winter. You don't even get a hand-made sweater from your mother that often.

Had a marriage with a businessman before, and had a son who died in an accident. She has the son's photo on her phone's lock screen, and would curse every time the businessman shows up on the news.

Has a twin brother who she worries about all the time. He travels around and is rarely home, when he's home she'd cook him a meal fit for a king.

When she was young she had to work several different jobs to raise herself and her brother. Even though she doesn't have to worry about finance or her brother anymore, a lot of the time she still acts as a "mother", you'd have to remind her to lean on you more.

You two often go for a weekend drive, have picnics at the beach or in the forest, enjoying nature together. For some reason small animals like birds or squirrels- sometimes foxes and rabbits- love her.

Every month you two go help at the local rescue center on at least one of the weekends. It still amazes you how she knows herbal remedies for animals.

You'd apologize first every time when you had an argument. Most of the time it would be your fault anyways. Your queen could never be wrong.

Freyr

He's the lead singer/songwriter of a popular band, doing alternative music. The band has a decent amount of followers but their music is mediocre. You had a theory that most of their fans are in love with the band members, not their music. (He wouldn't agree though)

Very charismatic, often is surrounded by a bunch of people in social situations. It's hard not to feel jealous, but every time when he sees you from the crowd, he'd pish whatever conversation aside and get to you.

Sometimes you go visit him when he's on tour, his band-mates adore you, but would constantly make fun of him, saying he talks about you too much.

An indoor person, doesn't like going out very much. He claims that it's because he travels a lot for work, and he wants to be as still as possible in his spare time.

Has long hair, and often has it in a messy bun. Sometimes you'd feel playful and ask to braid his hair. He'd let you, and if he has a show in a few days he'd make sure the braids last till then, and would tell the whole crowd you did his hair.

He's a great cook, often cooks for you. He explained that he used to cook a lot when he was a kid.

Definitely a gamer, and is very competitive. Although he is not a poor loser, and would let you win if you lose too much.

Sings in the shower. Before you moved to a better apartment with better sound-proofed walls, your neighbors often come to knock on the door to complain about how loud he is. (yes other aspects as well he is looooud)

Obviously, he sings for you all the time. He claims that after you two got together, all of the songs he made are either for you or about you.

And he praises you all the time, you often giggle at the creative compliments.

He's more into anniversaries than you, insists that you celebrate every one of them. From the day you first met to the day you move in with him. Even when he's away on the tour, he'd make sure to send you presents/flowers and facetime you.

Also very into holidays, he makes sure he would be home during any of the holidays. Sometimes you two visit Freya and celebrate together.

Bought you a puppy for your birthday, though in fact he was the one who wanted the puppy. He fell in love at first sight at the store and insisted on getting the pup. He named the golden retriever Ingrid.

Has a twin sister, you've met her a few times. Every time you see her you think that "majestic" is the perfect word for her. Though she's very friendly.

You'd ask her about his favorite food, and cook it for him, surprising him when he gets home.

You two don't really fight, he'd make it up to you before you even get upset. And you are absolutely perfect in his eyes.

adult!Angraboda

She's an artist, known for her unique way of utilizing color.

You first met at her exhibition, you didn't expect to be fascinated by this random artist at the exhibition your friend dragged you to. Soon you became her number-one fan, showing up at all of her exhibitions.

She'd recognize you and come greet you every time, greetings gradually evolved into coffee and dinner dates. Then it became nightly phone calls. One night she just blurted out a confession over the phone.

You two share a studio apartment, allowing you each to have your own space while enjoying each other's company.

She's pretty messy. When you first moved in, her stuff was left everywhere, you could find brushes on the stove, remote in the fridge, and clothes on the back of every chair you own. You had to teach her how to be more organized (her manager was very grateful). Now she keeps her messiness in her own space.

She's an animal lover, owns two dogs and three cats. Whenever you two watch something together and some animal shows up, she'd wanna have them as a pet.

She doesn't drive, she either takes public transport or rides a bike.

She doesn't really like living in the city, and is saving money to buy a little country house.

A spiritual person. You always find some crystals in the house, sometimes, she'd drop some rocks in your bag claiming it would help with fatigue or anxiety. The apartment always smells nice with the burning incent.

She also loves to bake, often experiments with different recipes, adding a sweet and buttery smell to the apartment.

You learned how to meditate from her. When you start working from home, she'd grab you every afternoon to do a 30 min meditation.

You do weekly pamper nights together, having face masks on, rubbing each other's feet, watching movies, and catching up.

Eventually you two would move to a nice little country house. And slowly but surely she would turn it into a small farm with sheep and chicken and goat and other animals.

You would get a secondhand car so it's easier to get groceries. You'd give her a ride if she has work in the city, and have a launch date in your favorite cafe.

You were tasked to clean up Odin's hall that afternoon when everyone was out training. So you went, pushed open the heavy door with your back, with your arms full with a half-filled bucket, a rug and a broom, humming a tune you made up.

You froze when you saw him sitting by one of the tables, reading.

The golden sunlight poured in and he bathed in it. You watched his braids shimmering in the light with his slight movements, purple eyes focusing on the pages, slender fingers breaking a piece of cheese next to him and gently pushing it between his thin lips-

"Ahem."

You blinked.

Those eyes were looking right at you.

"These tables aren't going to clean themselves." he had a slight frown on his face.

" -! Yes, sorry." you quickly averted your gaze and rushed to the tables furthest away from him, flustered.

Did you stare for too long? How long? Did he get a read on you? Did he know?

Your mind was such a mess that you didn't even know if you were doing your job right. You tried to focus on what you were doing with your back turned towards him, but you couldn't help but feel the burn on your back.

You didn't know if you want to take as long as possible to clean this side of the table- risking him putting his attention on you and getting scolded again, or getting it done as soon as you can- and move on to the table he's sitting at and risk getting his attention again. But all cleaning has to come to an end.

You squeezed the cloth dry and took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to move on to the table he was at. You turned around- someone was standing right behind you.

Water in the bucket splashed out with your sudden stopping, drenching your shirt.

He of course was right out of the zone of dirty cloth water.

"Indolent and clumsy, tell me, who decided that it would be wise to let you clean for the All-father?" he took a disgusted glance at the dirty puddle at your feet.

"I, I'm sorry..." You panicked, quickly kneeled down to clean up the mess you made. He crouched down, watched for a second, then snatched your wrist. You weren't sure what was the purpose of that, did you do something wrong again?

Before you could form a reaction, he suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips upon yours.

Your eyes widen, frozen in place, staring back at those sparkly purple eyes.

<Heimdall's POV>

At first, it was simply curiosity.

He was passing through the training ground, and felt something different. He had to do another glance-around to figure out where it came from, then saw you quickly turned away.

He wasn't sure what it was. Usually people's intentions towards him were very clear, it's either fear, frustration, jealousy or any sort of hostility. This was something new.

He started doing his own little experiments. Taking paths he didn't normally take, engaging in activities he didn't have to take part in, putting himself in the center of the attention, or hiding away in the corner... Then he was finally confident to come to the conclusion that you only have that weird emotion when he's around, and you only react to him.

Of course he had read it before, sometimes from teenagers hiding away in the back side of the houses, sometimes in the hall between some einherjars... Never towards him. Which intrigued him even more.

He felt your presence immediately when you pushed your way into the hall. He felt you staring. And somehow it became very hard to suppress a smile. He couldn't pay attention to what he was reading anymore, instead he kept listening to what you were doing. He found himself getting impatient at how slow you were cleaning that one row of tables.

He didn't even fully comprehend what happened when he's been shoved and fell backward onto the ground. He heard you running away and the door of the hall closing behind you.

What went wrong? Did he read you wrong?- No, impossible, he is the God of Foresight, he'll never read anyone wrong. Confusion soon turned into anger. Did you just reject him? How dare you?

He wanted answers. But you were nowhere to be found. For days, he patrolled everywhere he had seen you, but he couldn't find you, not even sense you.

It was at a huge drinking party where he found you- in the corner, serving people.

A sense of success washed over him before he swiftly parted the crowd to stand before you- and the somewhat cheery feeling slid away when he saw your warm smile turned into an awkward grin.

What's the intention he's getting now?

He heard you mumble something before slipping away into the crowd, eyes never meeting his.

And what's this feeling in the pit of his stomach?

<Your POV>

You've been avoiding him since the day he kissed you.

You still weren't sure what happened, a part of you thought it was all just a dream. Perhaps you thought about him too often. It couldn't have been true, no, it would be more likely that you approached him and assaulted him... On second thought, it could be exactly that. You took advantage of the Asier god and twisted the memory in your head...

Most likely he already knew your feelings towards him. That's why. He's always been a jerk, he just wanna make fun of you. Or perhaps you did something and that's his way of punishing you?...

Either way, it's better that you keep your distance.

It took you a lot of effort to stay out of the way. You saw him showing up at all the places you had to be, and had to take a hard turn and duck out of his sight. But you couldn't run forever.

You found him outside, at the back of the drinking hall, drunk.

It got you worried because he was never drunk. But he was, here, slouching against the wall.

"...Heimdall?" you approached carefully.

"...Look who's here," he raised his empty mug, "Pour me another drink!"

"You're quite drunk." you tried to take his mug away. "Aren't you here to serve? Serve!" he raised his voice, swatting your hand away.

You stood there, staring at him.

"...What is that?..." he squinted his eyes, "Is that pity?... How dare you..." he tried to stand upright, but the moment he left the support of the wall he started leaning right. You quickly step forward, held onto his arm, and helped him lean back against the wall.

"...How dare you change your mind..." he mumbled. "I'm sorry?" you gently took the mug from his hand. "You!" he frowned, "Don't you like me?"

You nervously gripped the mug with both of your hands, "...So you do know..." eyes fixed on the rim of the empty mug, "...Did you, kiss me just to mock me?"

"..."

You waited, but there's no response. You raised your gaze and met those purple eyes.

"...Your eyes are beautiful." he said, almost in a whisper.

"...What?"

"...Don't change it." he took a step towards you, wobbly. "...Change what?" "What you feel, towards me." he leaned forward, putting his arms around you, "It's quite nice..." resting his head on your shoulder, "...And stop running..." his words ended up slurred. You froze, feeling his weight on you.

"...Heimdall?"

No response.

He already fell asleep, standing.

<Morning>

You woke up with a pleasant sigh, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun caressing your face, hearing the chirp outside the window

And a low chuckle.

Your eyes shot open.

The Aesir god was laying next to you, one arm supporting his head. The morning sunlight gently fell upon him, on his golden braids, his perfect skin, leaving sparkles in his purple eyes.

"Mornin' sunshine."

...Is this a dream?

"Who knew y/n would seduce a drunken god-"

Your hands reacted faster than your thoughts, pressing firmly over his mouth, "Nothing happened! You fell asleep! I can't just leave you there!" you quickly explained.

"Tell yourself whatever you want." he gently pulled your hands down, "It's too late now."

"...What?" you couldn't take your eyes off of him, as he was bathing in the swirling golden particles.

"I will let the whole Asgard know, that y/n got me drunk to lay with me." "-! That's not true! I-" He smirked, gave you a soft kiss on your forehead.

He could still see it vividly, in fact, he would never be able to forget with it branded into his brain. What he saw after he ran back into the city, it's what hell would be like if he were to imagine it. All those dismembered bodies- mummified or not- all the blood, like the whole city was a slaughterhouse. And the quietness, it felt deadly. Even though he could hear people rustling behind their closed doors, women shushing their babes, people sobbing softly, and the fire crackling here and there... all these noises turned into fuzziness and were blanked by the quietness. It was deafening.

And you, lying in a puddle of thick, tar-like liquid, arms and fingers disproportionately stretched out.

He wondered if you knew, somehow, without your memory, if you knew what would happen in town. And if you did what you did knowing it could cost you your life. He wondered if he deserved it, after all he had done, how he treated you.

He rubbed his face with his palm, decided to get some more wood since he's probably not going to sleep tonight.

§

There was a soft knock on your door.

You were wrapped in a soft blanket and curling up on the window seat with your forehead pressed against the cool panel.

You didn't respond.

Eyle pushed open the door, "Itzel." "......Hm?" "How are you feeling?" "..."

You heard him sigh.

"I brought you some soup." Eyle set down a small tray next to you. You responded with silence. "Y/n." he called out your name. You turned your head slightly to look at him. "...Let me know if you need anything." You nodded, turned your head back.

He sighed again, "And finish your soup before it goes cold." and left.

You were asleep for a long time, and probably even longer for you to fully recover. You weren't sure exactly how long, but judging by the length of Helvit'tar's hair, definitely longer than you'd like. And the whole time it felt like you were living a mixture of a distant dream and reality, only you couldn't tell which is which.

Sometimes you saw yourself sitting by the window of your tower watching ravens hunting in the woods, sometimes you were sitting by the fire teaching a man with snowy white hair how to play tic tac toe. Sometimes you sat by a dinner table listening to a slim man reciting a poem with a glass of wine in hand, sometimes you were linking arms with a man wearing a hat with a large piece of feather dancing in circles in a pub.

Sometimes you were in the dark, surrounded by hollering wind that sounded like people screaming, cursing you and damning you for the endless confinement.

One night you found yourself crying hysterically, you swore you were hearing children's screaming. Then your senses came back to you, you realized you were grabbing and clawing at Eyle's arms, your whole body trembling uncontrollably.

"...Eyle?" you tried to take a few deep breaths, "I don't know what's happening..." tears streamed down your cheeks, "...I don't know what's real..." He gently wiped your face with a clean cloth. "...Are you real?" "Yes." "...You sure?" "...There's really no way for me to prove it, y/n." "....." you felt yourself drift away again.

Then one morning, you woke up. The sun shined in through the window, particles quietly swirling in the beams. Everything was so peaceful and slow. The chaos finally ended.

§

You died.

You sacrificed yourself to save your dear witcher. The asshole who still managed to hurt you when you were supposed to be someone else. And the sacrifice worked, perfectly, from what you heard.

Helvit'tar and Eyle resurrected you, with the power of science and magic. They managed to bind the evil entities within you after your contract was fulfilled, forcing them to give you life, otherwise they'd perish with you. It was like Helvit'tar and Eyle were some mastermind lawyers working within the loophole of the demonic law and bringing you back to life. Kind of funny when you think about it.

Apparently you're an energumen now. A successful case of demonic possession with the ability to wield its power- without losing yourself. You could tell that Helvit'tar, being a crazy scientist, couldn't wait to do more experiments with you, even though he contained the excitement pretty well.

However, with all the miracles, you felt depressed.

Geralt. Was he alright? He's probably fine because he's a witcher, and you ordered Eyle to protect him... But you can't be sure, if only you could meet him... Helvit'tar would never agree. He never liked the witchers, not to mention this one cost you your life.

And how dare he not visit you? Does he not want to know if you're ok? Does he not care? You died for him! The least he could do is to come and pay tribute! A "thank you" would be nice!

You kept toying with the gold coin hanging on your neck with a piece of loose leather string. Your lucky coin. He left it with Eyle.

What does it mean? He doesn't want anything to do with you anymore? So he's returning your stuff so he wouldn't be reminded of you? After you saved his ass? Perhaps he finally made up his mind and he's done with you? Or perhaps he knew what you've become, and drew a line at energumen? What the fuck? So he was fine with the casual murdering and manipulating his destiny, but it's gonna be a huge no no when it comes to energumen? You didn't ask for this!

Or perhaps you did? You shouldn't have run away, should have had a talk with him... Definitely shouldn't be pretentious and try to help a stranger in this time and world... And you willingly traded away all of your memories to gain power... To be honest, you're quite enjoying having this sort of power, the feeling of supremacy, it's delicious. Perhaps you are a evil person.

§

You had to lean on to the handrail and took one step after another to go downstairs. After spending so much time in bed, you need to work a little to get the muscles in your legs strong again. Eyle has been helping you with the exercise, but you still feel weak in your legs, which made you a bit frustrated.

You got downstairs, saw a suitcase by the door, Helvit'tar was talking quietly to Eyle. His eyes met yours.

"I see you are doing fine with your walking exercise." he quickly walked to you and offered an arm with a big warm smile. You hooked your arm onto his, "Going somewhere?" "Not for long, got a request from an old friend." "Sorry, it should have been me." "There's no need for apologies, take all the time you need." he patted on the back of your hand.

You walked outside, with Eyle carrying the luggage behind you. "I'll be back soon." Helvit'tar gave your hand a slight squeeze before letting go, and climbed onto the carriage. You smiled and waved, and stood there till you couldn't see the dust from the carriage anymore.

"Shall we go in?" Eyle held out his arm. You held onto it, "What were you talking about just now?" "...It's nothing you have to worry about." some how he got a bit gloomy. He led you slowly back towards the door. "Huh, and here I thought we got no secrets between us anymore." you said jokingly, stepping through the threshold. He let go of you and stopped at the door.

"Eyle?" "...He's banned from setting foot upon our land." "What?" "Master made it very clear that if he ever felt his presence, he would kill him." "Wha- Who are you talking about?" "The white hair one."

He had both of his hands in a tight clench, "He refused to, pointed his sword at master... I've never seen master losing his temper... He almost showed his true form..." his nails digging into his palms, face turned white from squeezing words out. Helvit'tar must had ordered him not to say a word to you about this, and made it into a blood vow. "Eyle-" "He never really left... Master teleported him but he returned... Every few weeks he'd show up somewhere near the periphery-" "Eyle stop!" you rushed to hold his hands, blood was already dripping. "Are you crazy? You're gonna break a vow?"

Eyle took a big breath in, unclenched his fists, "You should go." You looked at him with disbelief. "Follow the direction of that tree we used to practice on, master will be back in two days, make sure you come back before that. And take this." "Hold on- Eyle!" you watched him poofed and re-appeared, handing you a warm blanket. "Two days, don't be late." he said firmly.

§

You stumbled in the woods, keeping track on where you were going with the bright moon light, feeling like your heart was about to jump out of your throat.

He's here. And you could meet him.

Your legs felt so weak, but you pushed on, taking big steps. Going from tree to tree, so you wouldn't fall. You could hear your own breath, and your ears ringing.

You noticed an orange hue, flickering in a distance. It must be his camp.

You started running, almost got tripped by the tree roots a couple of times.

And there it was. The camp.

You recgonized both of his swords, placing on top of the traveling bag which ususally served as his pillow. And Roach. A different Roach, probably the successor of the one you knew. The fire was crackling, slowly dying. But he's no where to be seen.

Perhaps he just went to take a leak.

You sat down by the fire, feeling your legs trembling from the run.

The woods was very quiet, you looked around, didn't see any moving shape.

Where did he go?

You got nostalgic looking at how he set up this camp, he got his own way of organizing things, though you doubt he's aware of that. You remembered moving his shit when he wasn't looking to test your theory, and noticed him getting annoyed and putting them back to where they were, without even realizing what he was doing.

Would he be happy seeing you here? What should you say? Hi? No, that's too casual... Long time no see? That's too awkward... How's it goin'? Terrible... You should have prepared, wrote a speech, and memorized it so when you're in this moment you'd know what to do...

You threw the blanket around your shoulders and hugged your knees.

Do you talk about the past? The day you left? Do you be mad at him? Scream at him and let him know how hurt you were? What you've been through? Is it wise to bring up something so long ago?

Maybe you shouldn't meet him now. You weren't even fully recovered. What if he's not ready to meet you as well? What if...

You held your knees closer to your chest, debating whether you should get up and leave right now.

Then you heard footsteps.

§

He thought he saw someone by his fire. He thought he was still in a dream- a good one, for once. He wanted to rub his eyes to be sure that the face staring up at him wasn't of his imagination, but he got an armfull of twigs and branches. So he just stood there, staring.

You awkwardly stood up. Still haven't figured out what to say.

"...Hey." It came out like a whisper.

A long pause.

"...Hi."

You unconsciously started picking on your nails.

"...I heard that you're um, banned."

"...I did."

"Sorry... He's just, overprotective..."

No response.

You took a breath in, feeling so nervous that you might pass out.

"I, um, just wanna make sure you're ok..." you averted your gaze, "...Had to see with my own eyes... And I wanted to give you this-" you took the coin necklace off, "You should have it... You need luck more than I do." You placed the necklace on the top of the wood pile, "Sorry that I made fun of you-"

He snached your arm. The firewood fell onto the ground but he didn't seem to care.

You panicked. You're not ready. This is a mistake.

You pulled your arm away, "-I should go."

"No." he pulled you into his arms, "Don't go."

Your chin touching his shoulder, "Geralt-" "Don't leave... I'll wake up soon anyways..." You bit your lower lip, trying hard to hold back tears.

"...I miss you..." he whispered, "...Please stay..." You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks, "...I'm not the same person anymore." your lips were trembling. "I don't care... I don't care..."

§

Morning in the woods was always cool, a layer of mist hanging low above the ground, dew sparkling on the grass.

You woke up. His face was just a few inches away.

He had you wrapped up in your blanket like a burrito, and held you close like a kid worrying his carnival prized be stolen when he's sleeping. You stared at his face, had no intention to break free from his grip.

He looked terrible, heavy dark circles hanging under his eyes with sunken cheeks. If his hair wasn't already white it probably would be at this point. There's a scar he didn't have when you were with him, a small one on his right temple close to his hairline. You quietly raised your hand, finger tip barely touched the scar.

He opened his eyes.

"...Am I still dreaming?" he asked softly. "...You could be." you tried not to smile, "Wanna find out?" "...What are you suggesting?" "Mm... I could slap you? In the face? They say that you won't feel pain if you're dreaming. Or is it 'pain will wake you up from a dream'?" "..." He stared at your face for a while.

"How long do I have?" he asked. You hesitated, "...I need to be back today. Helvit'tar went out for a job, cuz I'm taking a 'sick leave'." you tried to make a joke. He didn't even smile.

There was an awkward silence.

He sat up, wiped his face with his hand.

"...Geralt, can we... talk?" you looked at him nervously.

He nodded.

§

You sat acrossed the fire, having the blanket over your laps, quietly speaking over a cup of steaming broth in your hands. Geralt sitting opposite of you, staring at the fire, listening.

You told him everything. From the moment that you picked up your backpack and walked away, to when you woke up after being resurrected. You spoke slow, sometimes with choked up words and shaky hands, but you didn't stop.

He didn't ask any questions, didn't make any faces. He just sat there, staring at the fire.

Finally, you finished your story, and moved your gaze up to his face when you didn't hear any response. And saw a familiar expression.

"...Geralt? Geralt. Look at me... Please?" It took him a minute to raise his gaze and meet yours. "I'm not telling you my story to make you feel bad. As much as I want to blame everything on someone, it's not your fault, the guy who's really responsible is dead now." "..." "And it doesn't mean that I think what you said to me was ok. It was hurtful, you broke my heart, you were an asshole-" "-I'm sorry-" "-As you should be. But you're only allowed to feel sorry about the hurtful speech you gave me, nothing else." "..."

He clenched his jaw. It pained him to know he was so close to that tower, if he wasn't so blinded by his emotions and ego, he could have saved you.

You put down the cup, went over to him, and held his head up with your hands, "Hey, you don't get to blame and pity yourself, that's my job, snap out of it." "...I'm so sorry..." his words trembling.

"...If you truly are sorry, better start making it up to me." He gave you a puzzled look. "I'm not gonna forgive you just because you apologized. In fact, I'll never forgive you." you said softly, thumbs wiped past the corner of his eyes, "So, do your best, you got a lot to make up for."

He pulled your hands away, gently held them in his. "How can I make it up to you when I'm not allowed to be with you?" he rubbed his thumbs on your knuckles. You felt your heart skip a beat.

"...Well, let's go then." you pulled on his hands, "Let's go home together and persuade them. If Helvit'tar refuses to let you see me, I'll just run away with you." "Run away?" "...Yea well obviously I'll sneak back and visit them they are family you don't just run away from family..." he chuckled as he heard that familiar babble.

He stood up, "Alright." and put out the campfire, "I hope this time they don't teleport me." "You might already be dead when they teleport you." you said while helping him pack. "Hmm, that's more ideal." "...What is this fear of teleportation of yours?" "I don't fear it, I simply don't like it." ......

“Gentlemen!” someone squeezed in between you and the drunks with an unnecessary spin, “Are you enjoying the night? Any request of the ballads?” “What? We don’t care, fuck off!” “Nothing? Shame, then I guess that’s it for me tonight! We can leave now my love-” the bard, still blocking the drunks, turned around and stick out his arm. He froze when he saw your face. You took the opportunity and hooked your arm around his, “Yes my love, I’m so tired, we should go now.” and dragged him towards the exit.

You made sure you were far enough from the tavern before you let go of the man. “Thank you for that, they were being... rude, and I’m glad that someone is willing to help.” you gave him a polite smile. “...It’s you.. It’s really you! Oh praise the gods!” he exclaimed, “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you! -So is Geralt! He misses you and he is very sorry-” You raised a finger to cut him off, “That’s enough, bard. There’s no one here now, you can quit the acting.” you took a step away from him. “Wha- No! Nononono you don’t understand! We’ve been lookin- HE! He has been looking... Oh I’m so excited he won’t believe this...” “Jaskier.” A voice came from behind.

You gently traced small circles on the pad of your finger with the sharp point of the ring, readied to draw blood. This man and the one behind you could be another group of scammers, hell they could be working with those two drunks back in the tavern. Men taking advantage of women traveling alone wasn’t news--- and you are more than happy to get rid of one--- or two--- more scumbags who prey on women.

“We need to go now, did you get all your things?” “Geralt! Look who I found! Of all the places, this shit hole is the answer! Ha! Look for yourself!” The bard was jumping around, throwing his fists in the air, yelling. You took another step away, turned to the man behind you. “...Witcher.” you recognized him. “... It’s you.” he didn’t seem surprised, though you swear you could tell he was. “I’m the best! I knew I’d find her!” the bard was dancing at the back. “Didn’t think we’d meet again.” you ignored the bard. “I don’t intend to be a competition, but I did just took care of the drowners outside the village.” You blinked, then couldn’t help but chuckle, “...I should apologize. I was quite a bitch last time.” “I wasn’t nice to you either. I’m sorry, for calling you a fraud.” “Well, most people are frauds. Can’t blame you for being cautious.” “...” “...”

“Wai- That’s it? Aren’t you suppose to be more excited?” the bard finally realized the situation wasn’t what he expected, “Give her a hug! A kiss! Pick her up and spin in circles! Oh and apologize, whatever happened that you wouldn’t tell me it’s your fault, you need to apologize.” “... Is he always like this?” you gave the bard a side-eye. “...Yes.” the witcher sighed, “Where’s your..” he looked behind you, eyes searching for something. “Sidekick?” you adjust your cape, “He’s not here. I, um, ran away. Sort of.” the witcher frowned. You bit the inside of your mouth, wondering why you’re telling him this, “...There’s a war, if you haven’t heard. I’m on my way there.” “Joining the army?” his frown deepened. “No. I don’t care about who’s ruling where, I want to help the people. Who are innocent and shouldn’t suffer from stupid ambitions of those men.” “But that’s dangerous!” the bard jumped in, “It’s a mess down there! And there’s nothing we could do!”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” you were finally done with the annoying bard. His eyes widened, words stuck at his throat. “Jaskier, she’s not her.” “What?” “I’m Itzel.” you gave the bard a quick smile, “I’m aware that I look like one of your acquaintances?” “...Acquaintance? Acquaintance?” the bard yelled, “She’s not just an acquaintance! She is- How- No! I can’t believe it!” he suddenly looked like a deflated balloon, “How?” “Jaskier, she’s never coming back. It’s about time you accept that.” For a moment you swear the witcher was going to cry, and for some bizarre reason you felt like crying as well. You shook your head.

§

You agreed to the witcher’s offer to travel with them, hoping traveling with others would throw your pursuers off the track, or at least confuse them and slow them down.

It’s not like you wanted any of this to happen, running away and hiding like a criminal, betraying who saved you and taught you how to protect yourself. You still remember the face of Helvit'tar when you told him you wanted to leave, it’s the first time you saw him getting angry. Even Eyle was visibly upset- although it’s possible he’s upset because his master was, and no one should upset the master. They were so upset you thought you could see their shadows cast on the wall turning into their true form.

You wondered if they were coming to get you. It’s not like you were really Helvit'tar’s daughter, you were more like a stray cat. Disobeying your master’s direct order, stealing his horse and basically betraying him after all he has done for you... If anyone was coming after you, it’s more likely to eliminate you.

The sound of the witcher sheathing his sword broke your messy train of thought. He does routine maintenance on his swords every day before he beds down. Your gaze fell onto the gold coin hanging from the hilt.

“Why do you hang a coin on your sword?” you asked quietly, didn’t want to wake the snoring bard, “Does it bring you more gold?” He let out a chuckle through his nose, “It should, it’s supposed to bring me luck.” he put the sword away. You gave him a puzzled look. “It’s a lucky coin.” he shrugged. You scoffed, “What are you, 5?” He shrugged again, adding more wood to the fire. You immediately regretted your tone. He didn’t seem bothered by your sarcasm, patted off the dust on his hands and finished making his bed.

“Good night Itzel, don’t stay up too late.” he said before laying down. “...Yeah good night.” you cleared your throat, feeling awkward about your absurd rudeness.

You spent some time contemplating why you tend to go aggressive towards the white hair witcher, before sleep finally found you and put you into the peaceful darkness.

§

“You m’lady, is a very well educated woman!” the bard with the name of a flower said, stroking his lute, “And what do you think about the Noir? It has to be one of my favorite poems, the raw emotions of their words-” “Ok that’s enough.” you raised your hand, cutting him off before another endless literature lecture, “I’m not really interested in liberal art.” “But you’ve read every great poetry out there!” “Well I wouldn’t say I read those... More like glancing through them?” you grimaced, “I only read them cuz Eyle was reading them and I needed conversation starters, and I fell asleep on the second page most of the time.”

You were riding side by side and the bard had been talking none stop, engaging in all sorts of conversation with you. You were actually quite amazed at how good he was at random small talks. The witcher, riding at the front, had been quiet all morning- not like he’s been a talkative person, but somehow you felt like he’s in a sour mood.

In the afternoon, you found a small stream and decided to take a break, let your horses have some water.

You parked your horse next to the witcher’s while the bard took off his boots and stepped into the cooling stream. “Are you sulking?” you casually asked, took out your almost emptied water skin. “...No.” the witcher frowned. You pursed your lips and shrugged, “M'alright.” walked away to fill your waterskin. The witcher stared at your back.

Two men stumbled out of nowhere.

“He- help us!” one of them yelled with a hoarse voice, “Please help!” You looked up. Their clothes were torn and there were some bloody scratch marks on their forearms. “Oh dear! What happened?” the bard exclaimed. You listened to them telling a story about some bandits robbing their house in the woods, burning everything down and killing the animals. “You need to help us! Please!” one of them said while holding onto their stomach. “You came to the right person! How lucky of you! This fine gentleman here, is a witcher! If anyone can help, it’s-” “No.” the witcher crossed his arms.

“B- but you have to!” the man with the hoarse voice and burn marks on his hands fell onto his knees, “I beg of you kind sirs and lady! My family... I left them behind... There’s nothing I could do!” “I’m a witcher, I fight monsters.” the witcher said firmly. The bard quickly looked at the witcher, then the two men, “Geralt, you can’t turn them away! They would die if we left them in the forest!” he yelled quietly. “We can’t help them.” the witcher turned away, tending to his horse.

“Well I can.” you hung the water skin to your hip, “This house of yours, is it far?” The two men quickly shook their heads. “I’ll go, you guys don’t have to wait up.”

The witcher grabbed your arm while you took a step towards the two men. You turned to look at him. “They are frauds.” he made sure only the two of you could hear. “You don’t know that.” you scoffed, pulled your arm away. “Look at them, all their cuts are at the front, if they were running away it should be at the back. Plus, why would they ask random people for help? If what they’re saying is true, how can three people fight off a group of bandits?” “Well, I’m not asking you to join.” you crossed your arms, “You could leave if you want.” “Please!” the one holding the side of his torso said, “We can pay you! I had some coins buried at the back of my house, I can pay!”

“I doubt you have enough to hire a witcher.” you turned to him, with a pitiful smile, “I, however, don’t require you to pay me with your lifelong savings. Just a little vial of your blood would do.” you reached inside the little pouch hanging on your waist, pulled out two small vials, “Here, you two already got cuts on yourselves, bet you wouldn’t mind adding one more?” The two men exchanged a look. “C’mon, chop-chop! Your families are suffering!” you said cheerfully.

The witcher snapped the two vials from your hand. You chewed on the inside of your mouth, narrowed your eyes and stared at him. He took out a dagger from his boots, made a small cut on his forearm, filled the two vials and handed them back to you. “Happy?” he said, sourly, “Lead the way.” he put away his dagger, grabbed his swords and helped the kneeling man up by his collar, “Now.” he gave him a little shove before letting go of his collar. You rolled your eyes.

§

You left the bard to look after your horses and belongings, following the two men deeper into the woods.

“I thought you said it’s close by.” you were a step or two behind the witcher, and was looking left and right at the scenery like you were just sightseeing. “We’re almost there, over this hill.” the man with the hurting side said, he’s no longer holding onto his side. “I don’t see smoke.” the witcher commented, “Nor do I smell any, I thought you said the bandits were burning everything down.”

“Oh? Did I?” The man with the hoarse voice turned around with a wide grin on his face. Two other men emerged from the back of the trees, one on your left, and two more behind you. “Oops, I must have mistaken.” the hoarse voice man high fived his companion. You turned your head to the side, eyeing the two behind you- they were obviously checking out your bottom.

“Careful, this one’s a witcher.” the man who no longer suffered from a hurt torso pointed at the white-hair one. “Relax, there’s six of us. We can take care of a witcher or two.” one of the men was swinging his club with confidence. “I strongly advise you to walk away.” the witcher said, “The odd for you isn’t very good.” “Ha! Listen to this guy!” the hoarse voice guy laughed, “Can’t you count? There’re six of us and only two of you!” “Wow bravo, and do you know what comes after six Billy?” you smiled. Other guys laughed. The hoarse voice guy turned red, “Wh- What the fuck did you say? Are you making fun of me?” “I am! Glad you figured that out!” “Itzel, stop.” the witcher gave you a stern look.

The hoarse voice guy got even redder, “I’m gonna kill you! I’ll let my boys have their fun with you after we took care of him and that skinny bard!” he drew out the rusty sword hidden behind the tree and charged at the two of you. You heard the witcher sighed.

The whole fight ended rather quickly, a bunch of bandits hardly were a match to a well-trained witcher. You mainly stood there, dodging the spraying blood and flying limbs, adding a few gasps here and there for flavor.

Then you spotted the hoarse voice guy sneakingly trying to crawl away.

“Going somewhere?” you stepped right on his wrist, putting most of your weight on, “Tell me, do you belong to a larger group of people?” The man desperately trying to pull his arm away. You squatted down, “Answer the question, Billy. Is there more of you?” He shook his head frantically. “Oh, you’re not very bright then. Should’ve joined some larger bandit group during this kind of time, would’ve worked out better for you.” you gave him a pity look, then smiled, “Well this has been fun, it was nice to meet you!” you grabbed onto his neck, fingernails dug into his skin. “No please!-” “Bye Billy.”

You curled your thumb, let the sharp ring sink into his neck. Billy’s skin started to grow darker, then wrinkled, as if something was sucking him dry. Your eyes were once again covered with a deep maroon, a malicious smile tugged at the corner of your lips. When you finally let go, Billy was merely a skeleton wrapped in wrinkly leathery skin.

Standing up, the fight was already over. You turned around, to find the witcher staring at you.

“Well,” you shrugged at all the deads around you, “I guess you are right then, they are frauds.” and clasped your hands together, “Glad we settled that! Should we go then? Shouldn’t let the bard wait-” “-Is this fun to you?” he asked in a cold tone. His gaze was awakening something deep within you- something familiar, something sad, and weirdly, you felt scared.

“...What? Are you feeling bad for these guys?” you scoffed, “They weren’t doing this world any good you know?” “So you weren’t really wanting to help them.” “Look I don’t need to explain shit to you ok?” “You don’t, I just thought you might be- Nevermind.” he turned and walked away. You felt this burning irritation rising from your stomach. You walked up and stopped him, “Hey! You don’t get to treat me like this!” you stared at him angrily, “I don’t know what kind of expectation you had of me, they are wrong. You don’t know me. Quit judging me with whatever standard you had in mind.”

“Yes, I don’t know you.” He stared back coldly, “That’s very clear now.” he took back his gaze and continued walking away. “...Fine!” you yelled at his back frustratingly.

§

The rest of the ride was pure awkwardness. With you and the witcher refused to talk or even look at each other, and the bard anxiously trying to find out what happened in the woods.

There’s no way that you were in the wrong. He’s the one assuming shit from you, and snapped when you couldn’t meet his expectation.

“Did Geralt do something wrong again?” the bard snuck up on you when you finally arrived at somewhere with an inn. You were busy taking things off your horse, didn’t want to make any comments towards the bard’s curiosity. “I’m sure whatever he did he doesn’t mean it! And he’s very sorry!” he tried to try harder, “Please, just talk to him-” “Are you his mother?” you scoffed, “Does he need his mommy holding his hand to a fight? Is he gonna cry if I tell his mommy to fuck off?” you said mockingly, untied the last string attaching your bag to the horse. “...You don’t have to be mean!” the bard looked hurt. “Boohoo, guess I’m the evil one here, what are you gonna do?” you swung your bag onto your back, rolled your eyes and walked away.

That’s it. You’re evil. That’s what’s wrong here. You got demons strapped to you, and they turned you into a monster. So what? You owed them nothing, you didn’t do anything to hurt them. And it’s actually rude of them to assume something totally not true about you.

So why do you feel bad? Why do you feel like you need to explain yourself to them? And why do you feel awful thinking about them considering you ‘evil’?

You grew grumpier when you found out they don’t serve hot meals in this particular inn, and practically stomped your way to the pub the innkeeper suggested you go.

The moment you pushed open the door, you were hit by a wave of different smells, food, drinks and body odors all mixed together and rushed into your nose. Your eyes immediately met the witcher’s--- he’s sitting with a bunch of dwarfs, they were huddling together and talking quietly amongst themselves, looking quite nervous. You didn’t bother to hide your disdain on your face, turned and walked to the table furthest away from him, and sat down with your back towards his direction.

§

When your meal came, it wiped away your sour mood.

For a short while.

"Good evening, Master Itzel." the cloaked figure sat down in front of you. You froze, slowly put down your spoon and stared at him cautiously. "You're allowed to finish your meal, then we are leaving." "No." you said firmly, "I've made myself very clear, I'm not here for sightseeing. I won't go back till this war is over." you sat back, crossed your arms to make yourself look more intimidating and firm. "Itzel," He said with a firmer tone, "don't make this more difficult for yourself."

"....Or what? Is that a threat?" He didn't reply. You pushed your untouched soup forward, "You can have it, I'm not hungry." stood up and quickly walked out of the pub.

Eyle swiftly caught up to you, "Itzel!" "I ran away once and for quite some time, I can do it again!" you were walking so fast it almost felt like running. "You don't really think that's true, do you?" Eyle was walking right next to you, without any effort. He took a few more steps to get ahead of you, blocking your way. You stopped, slightly panting, staring at him. "Please." his voice was soft and quiet, like always, "Come home." "..." you tried to look for any anger or disappointment, but there was none. All you were seeing was his calmness, and the worry flickering in his eyes.

You sighed. "...Can we at least stay for one night? I haven't slept in a proper bed for days and I'm really tired." "One night." his shoulders seemed less tense.

"Is everything alright?" the voice came up from behind. You turned to the white-hair man with annoyance, "..None of your business." you grabbed the corner of Eyle's cloak and was going to drag him away. Then you stopped, turned back only halfway--- so you didn't have to look at the face of the witcher, "I'm leaving tomorrow, thanks for looking out for me these days." and resumed walking.

§

"Itzel, wake up."

It was dark outside, the sun wasn't up yet. But there were a lot of noise outside.

Eyle was at the side of your bed. Orange light poured in through the window, swaying, flickering. Fire.

"...What's going on?" "We need to go." he handed you your cloak. You shook your head to wake yourself up, stumbled towards the window.

It was chaotic outside. People holding things weren't supposed to be weapons, shouting and dragging people out of their house. Blood splattered on the ground, glistening under the flickering torches. Smoke arising not far away and was spreading, families shutting their windows and blocking the doors. You heard screaming, begging and crying.

"Itzel, we don't have much time." Eyle putting the cloak on you. "Wh- what is happening? Are the soldiers here?" "No." Eyle quickly packed your bag, "It's the people, they are hunting down all non-humans." "What?" you snapped your head towards him, then turned back. Some of the mobs started banging on doors.

"..I can't go..." you mumble. "Itzel, now is not the time." "I have to help them!" you pointed towards the growing living hell, "Can't you see? Everything lead me to this place, this exact moment! We can help them!" Eyle stood there, lips pressed into a thin line. "Eyle, this is what we're here for." "..." he set down your bag. "I'll be right beside you."

You rushed downstairs, the innkeeper was hiding behind the counter.

"Are there any non-humans staying here?" you asked. The innkeeper was so scared he could barely form a comprehensible sentence, you managed to figure out that there were a dwarf and an elf staying in the other two rooms upstairs. "You don't want people die in your fine establishment, do you?" He hesitated. Some woman screamed outside, the innkeeper hid even further down behind his counter. "Look, you have to block the door. You don't know what they would do to you if they found out you got non-humans staying here right? Do you want to die for them?" he quickly shook his head. "Block the door behind us, now."

Walking out, the smell of smoke and blood made you winced. An elf woman holding a child in her arms almost bumped into you when she turned around the corner. She looked at you with eyes filled with fear, soot smeared across her face and a cut above her eyebrow. She held on tighter to the child. You quickly pushed open the door behind you --- and hit the innkeeper who's trying to black the door with large kegs, "Get in, and help him block the door." She gave you a grateful nod and rushed in.

Eyle got his pair of twisted daggers in his hands, took down some mobs who were coming your way, slit their throats with a clean-cut, then followed you towards where seemed like the main event.

§

You were rushing, you weren't sure where to, you let your legs carried you. You had this heaviness sitting in your stomach, a terrible feeling, and you knew you had to get there before it's too late.

§

The white hair one.

He's dancing with his sword, turning in circles knocking those holding shovels and torches and butcher knives back. Behind him were the few dwarves he was drinking with, swing their swords and shouting.

You stopped at a distance, panting, realizing you were running.

You saw a young man holding a rusting pitchfork. He's probably no more than 16 years old, a child if you were in your world.

...What world?

And you saw the witcher, sword in hand, hesitating.

Why is he hesitating?

You saw the determination and hatred in the kid's eyes.

You uncorked the little vial of blood.

§

At first you didn't feel anything, as if your body couldn't comprehend what just happened.

Then the pain caught on. The piercing paralyzing pain. Even breathing was too much for you to take.

You held onto the handle of the pitchfork before the too-young-to-be-called-a-man guy could pull away.

"...!! Magic! She's a witch-" "Y/N!!"

You heard Eyle's voice, like he was screaming and yelling and hollering at the same time with three different voices. He showed up right next to you in a puff of maroon mist. The guy who stabbed you was almost ripped in half, a giant hideous claw mark ran through his torso. Eyle tried to support you by gripping your elbow, while you fell to your knees.

"...Don't worry, Master is close by... He can fix this... We'll go to him..." You heard his frantic mumble, almost wanted to laugh for you finally seeing the day of him losing his cool.

You look to the side, where you were standing. The witcher was staring at you with disbelief, still processing what just happened.

It always felt nice when your magic worked.

"...Get him out of here..." you grabbed onto Eyle's hand, the other hand barely holding onto the pitchfork, using all your strength not to faint. "What are you talking about? We need to take you to Master now!" "...This is an order, Eylediön... Get him out..." "...." You've never seen that kind of expression on his face. The next moment, he vanished with the white hair witcher, leaving an afterimage of a shadow.

Foreign words leaked through your lips, at first it was broken, with shaky breaths. You slowly pulled out the pitchfork, blood poured out from the visible holes in your abdomen.

You squinted your eyes shut in pain, focus solely on the chanting. The air around you grew thicker, heavier. Blood slowly streamed down your face from the inner corner of your eyes. The night grew darker, the flames of the torches dimmed.

"Kill the witch!" "Kill her!"

Few of the braver men stepped forward. Thin black threads appeared from the ground and latched onto their feet, the threads wove and intertwined into something like a living web, climbing up their torsos and swallowed half of their bodies. In mere seconds their bodies fell onto the ground, dry like mummies.

You readjusted the pitchfork, one of its rusty tips aimed right at your heart.

You muttered the last word, raised your head and face the sky.

Basim Ibn Ishaq

Definitely a yandere. But he doesn’t show it. He's the type of guy who your friends and families would approve first time meeting him, but after some time they'd start worrying about your safety. He'd never hurt you though, not without your consent.

Gives out this serial killer, sociopath vibe. Very charming, but has a pair of cold eyes, like he knows everything and he cares about nothing. Those eyes only warm up when you are around. But you’re not aware of it.

A professor of history of art and architecture, and has two PhDs, one in history and one in architecture. The smartest man you know.

People either wanna sleep with him or is scared of him. Receives love notes in his office mailbox all the time, sometimes he gets the dark and dangerous notes, but he doesn’t care. You suspected that he knows who these notes were from, and is secretly enjoying the attention.

Had one marriage, and another relationship--- that got him divorced and dumped. Has 5 kids. He only visits them from time to time. His exes didn’t like him around the kids so much. Which hurts you, for you know how much he cares about his children.

His exes actually like you and feel more comfortable with you around their kids than just him alone. It really feels like you got two older sisters and Basim is the boyfriend they judge all the time.

You are younger than him, and you feel insecure all the time. For he is popular among his students and co workers, and has a history of cheating. However he thinks you being jealous is cute, and is scared of letting you know what really is going on in his mind. It would take him a long time before telling you how much he cares about you and how scared he is to lose you.

Dark academia is his dress code. And he looks so sexy in a turtle neck that you think it exists just for him.

He always makes sure he is well kept even at home. What you don't know is, when you are not there, either going home visiting your family or going on a vacation with friends, he becomes a caveman. You’d walk in on him one day--- if you decided to surprise him and got home earlier than planned--- in his PJs, wrapped in your favorite blanket with a bowl of popcorns, watching the show you wouldn’t shut up about in the dark.

Very romantic. He remembers all the important days and would always plan ahead. Spoils you with presents, although you told him many times that you don’t care about material stuff.

The truth is, he is scared that you would leave him like his exes, and he knows he can’t bare to lose you. Giving presents is the only way he knows how to keep people around. You would need to have a lot of conversations with him to help him get over his fear.

Didn’t need glasses, but as he’s getting older he started to notice his sight getting more blurry. It took you months before he let you drag him to the optometrist and get him a pair of gold rim glasses.

Great with the chores, even gave you some tips on how to clean better.

Of course he tells dad jokes, but only when he's around people he trusts. Meaning you, and his kids. Sometimes you wonder why the smartest man in the world tells the lamest joke.

He stuck pictures of his children on the wall of his office at school (cuz there r so many and he doesn't have enough space on his desk), and has the pictures at the ready on his phone so he can show them to anyone. However he has your picture on his desk right in front of him, and as his phone home screen.

Vili Hemmingson

He is a relatively renowned interior designer, has quite a few clients who are celebrities.

Part of his reputation comes from being the son of the founder of a huge real estate firm, but he secretly doesn’t like people bringing that up. 

He started his interior design career when he was “young” and wanted to get away from his father’s shadow. But he loves and respects his father very much.

Looks like a playboy, especially with his sleeves rolling up to his elbow, showing the fully tattooed muscular arms, casually sticking his hands in the pockets of his white washed jeans, with the front of his shirt slightly unbuttoned, smug face with a smirk and a pair of expensive looking sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses indoors at a pub?

He came up to you, hoping he could get your number while making small talk. The conversation was so awkward that you thought he was messing with you. Your friend slipped him your number when you made an escape to the bathroom.

He's an ass when he's with people he likes, always teasing and bullying you, to the point that you sometime would secretly questioning if he really likes you, eventhough you enjoy having these flirtatious banters with him.

After some time into your relationship, he drunkly admitted that he teases you so you won't notice how nervous he is all the time when he's with you.

You two bicker a lot, and would pull small pranks on each other, like some stupid kids.

For a while you were jealous of his childhood best friend, Evior, because of your own insecurities. They are both successful and really good-looking, when they stand together they look like a power couple. It’s hard not to think about how your relationship seems so childish seeing them being at a casual business gathering, with people asking when they are going to get married.

But then his eyes would meet yours, the polite smile for business occasions would melt into a warm, heartfelt one. He’d leave whatever conversation he was having, come to you with a peck on your lips, and introduce you to his companions with his arm around your waist.

Not the most thoughtful guy, sometimes he forgets about anniversaries or even your birthday, sometimes he neglects you and buried himself in work, sometimes he walks too fast when you’re on your period and is in pain... but once he realized that you were upset, he would make it up to you at least ten times in return.

You get why Vili is the way he is when meeting with his father, Hemming. He is a very warm man, cares deeply for his son. Not in his best health for him working too hard starting his company years ago, now he entrusts the company to their family friend Trygve and is living his best retirement life.

Hemming would invite his son to a fishing trip, Vili would decline thinking it’s too boring, Hemming would then invite you, you (enjoy spending time with this lovely old man) would agree, Vili would then get jealous about you two spending time together without him and come joining the trip “unwillingly” (he’d put his bag that he packed behind your back into the back of the trunk and snatch the keys out of your hand while mumbling that he’d drive your there, and never leave once you’re there). Happens all the time without fail.

Plays guitar. You learned from his father that he was in a high school band back in his emo days. You teased him profusely for that.

He sang for you for your one year anniversary. He's a really good singer, but you decided not to tell him, otherwise you'd have to put up with his cockiness for the next few weeks.

Sigurd

A freelance photographer / reporter / column writer / blogger. Travels all around the world. In fact he couldn't stay in one place for too long, or it'd drive him crazy.

Had a short marriage with Randvi. Their parents are very good friends and set them up with each other. They broke up mostly because Sigurd travels too much and Randvi was insecure. Then the love quickly died out. They are however, in good terms.

Has dark skin due to how much time he spends outdoor, and his clothes always seem somehow dirty and patchy. You made him keep a set of clean clothes at home so he doesn't look like a homeless person when you are out having a date night.

Can talk himself out of anything. Knows how to deal with people and how to win over their hearts.

When you first met you thought he's a little prick who's full of themselves. After a few talks you realized he actually has a heart of gold, and all his brags are actually unintentional.

He would call you every day when he’s not there with you, asking how you’re doing.

You receive postcards from all over the world, sometimes it’s the picture Sigurd took himself. He’d write love notes behind them and they always warm your heart, making the time without him a little bit easier. You stick the postcards on the wall and it basically serves as your wallpaper.

You live close to Eivor, Sigurd’s step sister’s place. Sometimes you’d visit her and help with the house chores, making sure she’s not dying in a burning house or drowning in the aftermath of her laundry.

Sometimes when you miss him too much, you invite yourself to Eivor’s place. As long as you brought enough booze, she’d be happy to welcome you in anytime. She treats you like family and you’re glad that you have her approval, you two are like siblings now.

When Sigurd finally comes home, he’d bring you all sorts of trinkets from his travel. In fact, half of his luggage is filled with presents for you. You tried to persuade him not to buy you so many gifts, but also think it’s super sweet that he bought everything that reminds him of you on his travel.

Your place is filled with things he brought back, the interior design is all over the place. It was a bit annoying at first, then one day he told you--- half drunk--- that he wanted to travel with you but couldn’t, so he brought the world to you.

When you can finally work out your schedule and go on a short vacation with him, he was over the moon. He won’t let you do any prior research or decide where to travel to. He planned everything in detail, even pulled a few late nighters to ‘refine’ the plan. You did have a blast, but you did talk to him and ask him to plan the trip together with you next time.

You have a scrapbook dedicated to his work, collecting all his articles and photographs, sometimes you write down some of your thoughts at the side. You keep it a secret though, you know that this would feed his ego and it would probably pain the others.

He is secretly planning to find a job that allows him to stay with you, finally ready to settle down. As you are planning to quit your job and travel with him. Eventually you two would find out about each other’s plan, and work things out in the best way possible.

Randvi

Currently studying for her PhD in Politics. Wants to be an ambassador.

Is friendly with her ex-husband, Sigurd. He and his family often invite you over for the holidays. You made quite a few friends due to that.

A terrible cook. She tried, she really did. But eventually you both agree that it’s better that she leave the cooking to you.

Giving out a big sister / mom vibe. Always takes care of other people around her. Often asking if you’re eating properly, if you’re wearing enough etc. Others assume that you are younger than her when in fact it’s the other way around.

Sometimes you’d have to remind her to take a break from all her studying, and take her out on a car ride. She would resist at first, but once she got outside you would have to physically drag her home.

When she’s with you is when she could really relax and be herself. She’d show the younger, naive side of herself. You enjoy being the special one. Although you do realize that she is also relaxed when she’s drunk at the family events at Sigurd’s place, when she’s with Eivor, and it makes you a little jealous. What you don’t know is, she’d never let herself get drunk when you’re not around.

Always trying to act tough, and she is one strong and independent woman. You do wish she can lean on you a bit more, and is worried about if she’s hiding her stress and worries from you. After some time into your relationship you noticed she started to loosen up around you, and would share more about her thoughts, which made you very happy. You are confident that you’d be able to tear down that steel wall of hers in the near future. 

Has a terrible sense of direction, and is actually terrible with maps. You think it’s adorable when she tries to work out where she’s at using a GPS. She always blames it on the GPS. You think if you leave her in the parking lot of the grocery shop you go to all the time, she’d never be able to leave.

You both really like animals, but she’s allergic to fur. You wonder if you could find a brand of dog or cat she won’t be allergic to, but is also scared to try. On the other hand, she is secretly getting her allergy tested, so she could get you a pet for your birthday.

Do not have a clue about how to dress fashionably. Lives in blue or grey jumper all seasons. When you two just started dating, she got insecure and desperately tried to learn how to do make-up --- only to fail miserably. You introduced her to some simple makeup and assured her that she’s perfect the way she is. You slowly build her confidence back up after some time. 

Needs thick glasses or she’s blind, for she often studies in dim light. She wears contact lenses because she hates how the thick glasses make her eyes look smaller. She only wears them when she’s at home, and when she’s absolutely sure no one would see her in those that day.

You love giving her different pet names. She always has a reaction--- blushing, stuttering, avoiding eye contact etc.--- towards your creative name of choice. And you made it your goal to think of a new one every month, just to see her being surprised and flustered.

Fine, you’re leaving. You don’t need him anyway. You could go back to Yen, she would take you in. You would live a way better life than before- Hell, you don’t even need Yen. You can take care of yourself. You will go on your own adventure and perhaps meet someone better than that stupid, stubborn asshole.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been walking, or where were you walking to. It was dark everywhere, and your human eyes could barely made out anything- probably even less than what you usually could due to your now puffy eyes.

You started to hear the different sound of the night forest, the cracking of the dry twigs, the chirping of what you assumed of the crickets, the rustling of the trees, and perhaps the howling of some wolves far away.

Suddenly, a scream pierced through the darkness of the forest.

You tensed up, ready to run if any danger come towards you.

“HELP!”

You heard it loud and clear. You quickly drew out your shotgun, ran to the source of the sound.

It wasn’t hard to locate where you should go, there was a faint glow not so far away in the woods. As you were getting closer, you saw a circle of glyphs giving out a brown-ish red glow, in the center lay a shape that seemed to be a body of a child. Beyond the circle, not too far away, was a ghoul.

“Help me! Help!” Someone up in the tree shouted desperately, seeing you appeared from the dark. You stopped in the circle of glyphs, aimed the shotgun at the ghoul that was growling up at the poor man and pulled the trigger.

The ghoul took a few shot before it went down and stopped moving completely.

“Are you ok?” you poked the dead ghoul with the gun barrel to make sure it’s really dead, and said to the man, “You can come down now, it’s dead.” “Oh thank you kind stranger!” the man swiftly climbed down, he was wearing a cloak with dark stains at the bottom edge. “I would have been dead if not for you, I owe you my life!” “What happened here?” you asked, stepped into the circle once again to check the pulse of the child. You noticed the boy had several cuts on his arms and legs, and a mark of branding on the inside of his wrist that you couldn’t quite make out the design with the dim light from the glyphs.

“...Fascinating...” You heard the man gasped in awe. “Hm?” gotten distracted from inspecting the branding further more, the thought slipped from your mind, “The kid is dead.” you stood up. “Yes yes, poor child. His parents brought him to me for treatments, but the monster showed up. I tried to put up a protection sphere for him but he’s badly wounded...” the man lowered his head with remorse. “You’re a healer?” you stepped out of the circle. The man glanced at your feet and the glyphs, “I’m a worshiper of the arcane, a student in the knowledge of unknown.” he bowed his head slightly, “Sadon Olbrecht, at your service.” “Y/n.” you replied, found yourself having some trouble trusting him, but couldn’t put your finger on it.

“What a lovely name! And what brought you here deep in the woods in such late hours?” “Um, well, I um, lost.” you avoided the eye contact, remembering the reason why you were deep in the woods late at night. “Oh I live near by! You are more than welcome to come stay overnight, and I can show you the way to the highway tomorrow!” he lit a lantern--- that came out of nowhere. “It’s this way!” he lift up the lantern to see better ahead. “...” you took a look back at the direction you assumed you came from--- it’s too dark to tell--- “Sure. Lead the way.”

It didn’t take long before you saw that stone made house. “Here we are!” Sadon picked up the pace, “We don’t have much, but it’s our humble home.” “We?” you glanced at the dark windows. “Yes. Come come!” he quickly pushed open the wooden door. You hesitated, one hand reached back and clutched on the pistol.

You stepped in. It was dark, the smell of decay and dampness rushed into your nostril. “Sadon?” you couldn’t see anything. Something wasn’t right. You turned, wanted to walk back out.

Then a heavy strike hit you in the back of your head. You fell unconscious.

§

It was cold, dark, humid, stank of dirt and mold.

And blood.

So much blood.

Fresh, not fresh, they all mixed together into a protruding smell.

You were leaning against the cold stone wall, hands chained to the wall, another pair of heavy manacles on your ankles. There’s no window in this room, the only time when you could see anything was when Sadon were in the room, then he would light all the candles--- there were so many candles, black and red. When there’s no light, it’s pitch black. So dark that you often wondered if your eyes were actually opened.

It hurt everywhere, to a point that you couldn’t feel pain anymore. You used to complain so much about even the smallest cut, would wine about your sore back every few minutes. But you stopped thinking about the pain now. Your brain learned to ignore it after a while. You tried to get some sleep, but your body was aching and stiff--- in fact, your brain couldn’t even tell if you’ve slept.

And the noises. The sobbing and crying and moaning from below.

The kids.

You didn’t know who they were, but you know there were several of them. Sadon kept them separated from you, in the camber below. You saw him carrying sacks downstairs a couple of times, took some time before you realized that those were the kids. He probably kidnapped them somewhere, put them to sleep for transportation.

You’re glad that you didn’t know these poor children.

You heard the rustling of the keys, and the squeaking of the metal door. Light poured in from the door at the far side of the chamber, a pair of feet came down the stone stairs.

“Good evening!” he greeted you delightedly and started lighting the candles with the candlestick he brought down. There was a large stone pedestal in the middle of the chamber, few metal hooks sticking out on the sides, with runes carved all around it and it was covered in deep maroon. The runes ran down the pedestal, to the stone floor, and formed a circle.

Sadon finished lighting up the room, set the candlestick down on the side of the pedestal “I really have a good feeling today, perhaps success is near the corner!” You could hear the sincere excitement in his voice, and it only sickened you more.

He took the chain of keys, and unlocked the hatch to the basement. You chewed on the inside of your mouth, hearing the children crying. You saw a little boy being dragged up, manacles chained on his skinny wrists and ankles. The boy was trying all he can to fight, but Sadon as a grown man was way stronger than him. He threw you desperate gazes, but there was nothing you could do. You watched him being dragged to the pedestal, manacles on his wrists hooked to one side and the ankles were hooked to the other side.

Then Sadon brought a dagger and a small goblet to you. He knelt down beside you, took the dagger and cup a deep slit in your upper arm. You turned your head away, gritted your teeth so hard you felt like you were going to shatter your jaw. He caught your blood in the goblet and brought it back to the boy, who was laying on the pedestal, panting in fear.

You shut your eyes, trying to close off all your senses.

§

The pure one.

That’s how Sadon addressed you. How disgusted you were when you heard that.

He said he’s a blood mage. You knew that’s bullshit from the time you’ve spent with the witcher and the sorceress, and the knowledge they fed to you.

Sadon was just a demon worshiper, who was deluded about how he has a connection with the “demon lord”. He told you that he would one day break the barrier between the two worlds and bring his lord to this realm, and together they would bring the world to greatness. And he believed that your blood is the key to his grand plan.

You didn’t even care about the sanity of his mind.

How long have you been in here? How many rituals have you witnessed? How many young lives were perished, tragically and painfully in front of your eyes? The scenes, the sounds, they haunted your dreams. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if you were dreaming or the ritual was actually happening.

At first you were so mad, you screamed, you struggled. You tried to fight your way out of this, but you were nothing without your weapons.

You were nothing without your witcher.

You overflew your mind with the witcher.

His voice, his frown, his grunt, his smirk. What was he doing while you were stuck here, suffering? Did his mind ever come across you after you parted ways? Was he worried about you?

Then you banned him out of your mind, kicked the image the sound the phantom warmth of his out of your brain as many times as you needed.

You prayed. Prayed for all these were just a bad dream, prayed that Geralt would be looking and saved you from this hellhole. You cursed, cursed your bad luck, curse your immunity, cursed for you trusting a stranger and take him for his words. Disappointed- desperate about the absence of

Till there’s nothing left for you to do but to wait.

Wait for the final fate to find you.

§

The chamber has grown cold.

You were the one laying face up on the pedestal, staring up at the ceiling. There hanged a rusty chandelier, covered in dust and webs. The thought of it falling and killing you and ruining the ritual flashed through your mind, brought you a slight amusement. You were even more amused at how you were coming up sick jokes when death was staring you right in the face. In fact, you had to suppress the urge to laugh.

Few kids were kneeling on the ground, forming a circle around the pedestal. You couldn’t tell how many of them were there--- you were too weak to turn your head to look--- you guessed that they were probably the last ‘stock’ Sadon had in his little basement. You could hear them sobbing, the silver instruments Sadon made them held were making soft tinkling sound with their shaky hands.

The temperture dropped more. Or maybe it’s you losing blood.

You heard Sadon’s chanting, heard him moving around in his elegant robe. You fought to keep your eyes open, but the eyelids were growing heavy.

You were scared.

Is this it? Are you really going to die? What’s beyond ‘death’? Will you return to your world? Would Geralt miss you, at all?

You were not ready to go. But the darkness was creeping in from the corner of your vision.

A voice crept in as darkness consumed you. It souded like several people talking at the same time, in different pitch, but merged in one.

“What do you wish?”

You found yourself standing--- or perhaps, floating, in this darkness. The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere.

“We could give you anything you want.”

You looked around, then you weren’t sure if you were actually looking.

“I want to live.” you found yourself talking, heard your voice coming from all around you.

“Pay the price.” 

The voice echoed in the space.

“I have nothing.”

“Give us what’s most precious to you.”

A dark shape emerged from the dark. You didn’t know how you’re seeing it without light, but the presence was strong. You saw it extended it’s hand, expecting a hand shake.

You closed your eyes, still seeing the darkness.

“Give it.”  “Give it.” “Give it.”

The voice now split into several whispers, coming from different directions.

You saw yourself slowly raising your hand, slowly, reaching that extending arm. Faintly, you heard your voice, telling you to stop, to think this over, to be smart.

A face flashed into your mind, the pair of eyes that would usually filled with warmth were painted in cold bitterness.

You held onto the arm.

A burning sensation burst out on the inside of your forearm. A shape was glowing, and eating your flesh away. You screamed.

The whispers ceased.

“You are ours now.”

§

The darkness faded. You were on your bare feet, panting. Most of the candles were out, the only ones still burning were the ones on the pedestal behind you.

Your saw your shadow casting on the ground, and drew up to the wall, swaying, with the low burn candlelight. The thick substance that’s covering the ground, glistening with the flickering light. You tried to move your feet, but your foot kicked something.

An arm. Children’s.

You slowly glanced around, eyes barely made out the scattering pieces of what you assumed, human body. The smell of gradually decaying flesh filled your nostril, your brain slowly started working.

What happened?

You saw Sadon, half of his head were by the wall, expression frozen on absolute horror.

The metal door screaked. You turned, and saw two figures standing at the top of the stairs. In their eyes, were those horror? Shock? Perhaps wonder?

You didn’t get to find out. In a flash, the smaller figure of the two rushed towards you. And before you could react, a blunt hit in the back of your head. You were back into darkness again.

▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲the family friendly dividing line▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲

Summary

You left Geralt after the fight when the night was falling. Frustrated and disappointed at what happened, you got lost.

Deep in the woods, you came upon a man who named Sadon, he was being attacked by a ghoul, after killing the ghoul, he offered somewhere safe to stay for the night in return. He attacked you and knocked you out after arriving at his stone made house.

It turned out that he was a demon worshiper, and claimed to be a blood mage. He made sacrifices of children who he kidnapped at the nearby village to pay tribute to his dark lord. He believes that the rituals he’s doing granted him power, and one day he would be powerful enough to summon the demon king to this realm, and together they would rule the world. And when you saved him in the woods, he found out that magic doesn’t take effect on you. He believed that you were the key he needed for his grand scheme. So he kidnapped you, and was waiting for the right time for his final ritual.

Sadon wasn’t wrong. Your blood was desired by the demons, as it could grant them power. The ritual was successful, just wasn’t as expected by Sadon. You made a deal with the demons, giving them your memory in exchange of immense power.

You woke up and found yourself standing, around you were Sadon and all the children who met a horrible death. Helvi’tar and Eyle opened the door to the basement of death, found you in complete confusion.

<Eivor’s POV>

“Eivor!” you caught up on her right outside of the longhouse. “Y/n.” she smiled, and was very aware about how obvious a change of expression that was.

Ever since someone brought up how her look changes when you were around, she’s been very self-aware about it--- not that she could help it, her facial muscle wouldn’t listen to her command no matter how hard she tried. Once you got woried if she was constipated, after that she stopped trying to control her expression.

“I was going to ask you... Will you give me archery lessons?” you chewed on the inside of your mouth. “Archery?” Eivor frowned, “Why?” “I want to be able to protect myself, to be able to hunt, help out the clan... And maybe go on a raid with you?” “...” Eivor was trying not to get distracted by yor doe-like eyes. You took her silence as disapprovement, “Please? I don’t want to be the victim anymore!” you claped your hands together, “You are the greatest fighter I’ve ever known... You will the best mentor!” You were selling it hard, she could tell, and it was adorable. “...Fine.” “Really?” “Let’s go into the woods, wouldn’t want you to hurt anyone.”

You were distracting. Eivor couldn’t remember when she discovered this, but it’s a fact now. She remembered being confused about it, how she couldn’t tear her gaze away from you. Then she decided that it must be that she never had a ‘lady best friend’--- something you mentioned in the early days of your relationship. Things were different with you, she could never treat you like how she treated her other female clan-mates. She thought it was because you were from a different culture.

What she felt when she’s with you, the warmth in the chest and the tingling in the stomach, it was all new and strange, in a good way. She enjoyed it. And it made her wanting to get close to you more.

Before she knew it, she was standing right behind you, one hand holding yours helping you draw the bow, one holding your arm up so the arrow was aligned with the target. She could feel the heat emitted from your back, and the warmth of her own breath bouncing off your neck. She tensed up a little, smelling the sweet grassy-herbal scent, mind went blank. In that split second, you let go of the string, the arrow shot out, stuck into the wooden target you brought from the village.

You gasped, “I hit the target!” put up both your arms in the air for victory, “Did you see that?” you turned to look at her face. “Y- yes, good shot.” she cleared her throat, said to herself that she should drink less next time. “You weren’t even looking!” you pouted. “Sorry. I wasn’t fully recovered from the raid, I think.” “Should we go back? We can have the lesson next time?” “Maybe that’s for the best.” she nodded, took her bow back from you.

“I’ll beat you to the longhouse!” you darted out as the bow left your hand. “Hey!” Eivor shouted, quickly followed.

You weren’t quick, she could’ve easily caught up on you, but she didn’t. She kept her distance at an arm length, hearing you laughing and occasionally squeaked when you turned and saw her right behind. The sun was paticularly bright today, she thought. And the time seemed to be slowing down a little. Perhaps the Gods were here with you in the woods.

Then your foot got caught up in the tree roots, you tried to catch your balance, but slipped on a patch of grass, and fell to your side. Eivor leaped forward, caught you by the waist, couldn’t stop both of you from falling--- you tumbled down the hill.

In the end, you stopped, with Eivor on her back and you have your face buried in her chest. “Y/n?” Eivor grunted, feeling dizzy. Your shoulders were shaking. “Y/n, are you hurt?” she got worried, raised her head a little trying to see your face. You shook your head, face still buried down. She heard muffled laughter. Sighed in relief, she lay back down onto the grass.

<Your POV>

You rolled aside, still having a huge smile on your face. “That was fun.” chest going up and down from the race. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath of fresh grass and faint floral scent in. “It was.” you heard her deep hoarsed voice responded.

“Do you think I can be a good archer? Will you take me on a raid with you?” you turned your head to look at her, bumped into her icy blue gaze. You felt your heart skipped a beat. “I think you can. You just need more practice.” You turned to lay on your side so you can face her directly, “Are you going to help me practise?” She turned her head more to look you straight in the eyes, “I am.” You felt the flutter in your chest, the urge of giggling being surpressed into a twisted smile.

“Eivor?” “Mm?” “You are adorable.” You could see the confusion in her eyes. You bet that no one had ever adressed that word to her--- you wonder if she even knows what the word means. Before she could have any response, you leaned in and pecked on her lips. Quickly drew back, you nervously inspected her face to see her reaction.

Eivor blinked- then she growled and lunged forward, holding your face in her palms and kissed you hungrily. Your back were pressed against the soft grassy ground, strengh leaving your limbs as your fists clenched on her cloak. All you could hear was your heartbeat.

After Gods know how long, she let go. Both of you slightly panting, eyes glazed. Eivor first snapped out of the daze, looked at you with worry eyes. “...Eivor?” “Yes?” you could tell that she was nervous, but you didn’t know why. “Do you like me?” “I- I do.” “Do you like me like, how a married couple like each other?”

There was a pause. You felt like the world had stopped, only the breeze circling around you.

Eivor jumped up from you, sat down and turned her face away. You grew worried, “Eivor?” you sat up, trying to see her expression--- it was mostly blocked by her hand, but you could see the parts she didn’t covered were bright red like the setting sun. You moved closer.

“Eivor?” a bit more closer, “Can I kiss you again?” She didn’t move. Carefully, you reached up to her hand and gently pulled it down. She still refused to look at you. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. She turned to look at you, you smiled. “I like you too.” you grinned. Her tensed shoulders finally relaxed.

Eivor lay back down. You snuggled up next to her, putting your head on her shoulder, letting out a satisfied sigh. The warm sun shined upon you, breeze brushing through your hair, you could smell the mix of forest and the ocean on her.

“The weather is nice today...” you said, sleepily. “Hmm.” she hummed, you felt her chest rumbled.

§

“Master Itzel.”

At the top of the lower tower, a bed was set at the center of the room. Heavy curtains were hanging from the top, blocking all the light from coming in. Lanterns with intricate designs were hanged on the corners of the room, giving out faint warm light. 

The source of the voice put out the dying lanterns, then went straight for the curtains.

Bright beams shined into the room, the bump in bed groaned, shifted and buried deeper into the pillow.

“Itzel, wake up.”

“...Shut up...I’m sleeping...” “The sun is up, you need to get up now.” “...No I don’t...”

The figure moved to stand next to the bed, “Y/n.”

“...Whaaaat?” you pushed yourself up in frustration. “Breakfast is ready, and it’s getting cold. Then you will complain about your cold food. And that’s absurd.” the man said in an indifferent tone. He has his back to the window, face completely in the dark, but you could still see those pair of crimson-color eyes, like they were faintly glowing.

 “...Fuck you Elye...” you whined, slowly crawling out of bed. “Good morning to you too.” Eyle continued on to open the rest of the curtains.

You went down the stairs, followed the smell of bacon to the dining room.

A man was already at the table, sipping on a cup of tea, with a red-covered book in another hand. He had one of those faces that intimidates people, like how you would imagine what a powerful and cold-blooded mob boss would look like --- that stern look immediately melted into a warm smile when he noticed your presence.

“Well, someone decided to join us for breakfast this morning!” he got this velvety voice that reminded you of honey. “...Good morning, Helvit'tar.” you said with a yawn.

Helvit'tar quickly put down his book, stood up, and pulled out the chair for you. You gave him a smile, sat down and helped yourself to some creamy eggs. Eyle was already next to you pouring hot tea into a cup.

“So, you are leaving today? To see Crewe?” Helvit'tar sat back down, long boney fingers picked up the cup. “I thought there’s no job-talk at the table?” you remembered the annoying work you had to do. “Excuse my insolence, but you are going to be gone for weeks!” Helvit'tar gave you a puppy-eye. You took a glace towards Eyle, who was sitting down across you--- a faint frown showed on his usually emotionless face. You suppressed a giggle, “I will send you messages, ok? Old man?” “Yes you would, one every day.” Helvit'tar nodded. “Ha, no promises.” you chuckeled.

§

You had no idea how long you had been here. Time was exceptionally slow in this part of the woods, especially in the castle. But you loved it there. Life was good.

It was pure chance that the master and his servant found you. You were covered in blood with hollow eyes in the basement of a tower flooded with death somewhere in a forest. It was also one of the very few memories you could retrieve from your mind, since everything else was pretty much lost in the dark.

You didn’t have much when you joined the family. A bag full of bullets, three firearms, the memory of you standing in a pool of crimson with body pieces scattering everywhere, Helvit'tar’s shocked face. And the mark on your right forearm, the proof of trading with the demons.

It took you months before your own name came back to you--- before that you were told that you were Itzel, Helvit'tar’s daughter. It seemed like Helvit'tar treated you as a surrogate of his daughter, but you didn’t mind. They took you in, treated you like family, life was good.

No need to dwell on your lost past life.

§

“What’s his name again?”

Sitting in the carriage that has nice dark red velvet lined across every surface you can see, you had your back against the wall, both legs stretched out on the seat. You stared at the window across you that had silk curtains neatly tied at the side, in the shade of darker-almost-brown red.

“Crewe. Lord Crewe. And I hope you remember it when we are in the presence of him.” Eyle’s toneless voice raised from the book he was reading. “It’s not my fault that my brain can’t remember shit.” you crossed your legs, then uncross them. “We’ve met him before, on his wedding day.” “That was a long time ago!” “Six months. That was six months ago.” “Exactly. A long time ago.” you slid down a little bit so your feet were pressing right against the other side of the carriage.

“Are we there yet?” you asked, to your bellybutton. “We’ll be there in two days.” Eyle flipped a page. “Ugh...Why is it taking so long?” you slid down a bit more. “It’s 4 hours less since you asked this morning.” You threw him a vicious glare, then huffed, slid and lay down on your back with your knees bent.

You stared at the carriage ceiling, which was also lined with dark-red velvet. “When is Helvit'tar gonna fix this carriage?” “The carriage is perfectly fine.” “No it’s not. The interior design is a total disaster. I feel like I’m in my mother’s womb.” “I doubt you remember what it was like being in the womb.” Eyle flipped to the next page. “How do you know that I don’t remember?” you turned your head to look at him, but can only see his book cover. Eyle didn’t bother to answer. You pouted, turned back to stare at the ceiling again.

“Who use red everywhere anyway?” you mumbled to yourself, “It irritates people you know? It’s terrible. Whoever designed this need a good lesson in color psychology.”

You could hear the wheel crashing over some twigs and leaves, and the hoofs thumping on the ground.

“Master is working on it already.” “On what?”  you stopped tracing the golden stitch line of the seat to look at Eyle, who was still very much absorbed in his difficult reading and was deviding only a fraction of his attention to you. “A new carriage, with new designs that might suit your taste.” “He is?” “You shouldn’t be surprised. After all you are the only one who complain about the carriage.” “...I’m sure that’s not true, I can’t be the only one hating this design.” you said with a frown and a sense of guilt. “You are.” “...” you chewed on the inside of your mouth, sat up and scooched to the side and looked out the window with your hand under your chin.

Eyle closed his book. “Do you want to drive the carriage?” “...” you can see his reflection in the window, patiently waiting. “...You’d let me?” your breath fogged up the window slightly. “Jarin will supervise you, of course.” “...” You didn’t want to give in so soon.

Eyle didn’t wait for your verbal confirm, he raised his book, and gave a few tap on the ceiling with the corner. The carriage slowly came to a stop. The driver, Jarin, jumped off of his seat and waited at the door on Eyle’s side. Eyle gave him a slight nod, Jarin opened the door. You turned to look. “Just for a while, can’t let anyone see you driving the carriage with master’s seal on the side.” “Alright!” you quickly said, and jumped out of the door.

§

Spending time with Eyle sometimes gives you a sense of nostalgia, and sadness. You don’t quite understand why. He indulges you. And you’re comfortable being indulged. You don’t know where the mixed feelings come from. Sometimes you wonder if you two knew each other in another life, or did it got something to do with your past.

But most of the time you ignore it. It’s just a feeling. Feelings could be weird sometimes. It’s fine.

§

The carriage was going through the muddy road and getting near the stronghold of Lord Crewe, with the curtains down and secured so people couldn’t see in.

You were in a silver-grey cloak, with beautiful embroidery on the edges in different shades of red, secured with a deep blue sapphire brooch in the shape of Helvit'tar’s seal. On the inside was a crimson red dress with elaborate rose-gold thread embroidery, adorned with tiny pearls carved into Poppy and skulls. The dress covered most of your skin, with a high collar and long lacy sleeves. A lace mask matching the color pattern of your cloak, that can cover your whole face, was laid on your knees.

On your left thumb was a ring, with a silver skull that had a pair of twirl horns and a long sharp-pointy beak that was a bit out of portion compared to the whole head, two red gems were embedded in the eyes sockets. You were zoning out, staring at the lace mask, with your index finger slightly tapping on the pointy end of the ring skull.

“Itzel.” Eyle had the same exact out fit as you, with the lace mask already covering his face, “Put on the mask, we’re getting close.” You took a look at him, he was indistinguishable from you. The carriage is slowing down. “Do you need a minute?” Eyle asked. You shook your head, took in a deep breath and put on the mask.

§

Stepping out of the carriage, you straightened your back, eyes looking forward as Jarin helped you out--- like a nobel, prideful queen, was what you always reminded yourself. There was a ball held in the main hall, celebrating the birth of Lord Crewe’s first son. The son who was not birthed by the Lady of Crewe, but would be known as the righteous successor. You and Eyle walked side by side, following the guard to the hall.

The music and talking paused when you two entered. Eyes were all on you as you walked in sync, stopped in front of the Lord and bowed your heads slightly.

You tapped the tip of your ring on your left index finger and drew some blood. “Lord Crewe, I bare my humble blessing to your newborn.” your voice was hoarse, with a strange echo. “Master Itzel!” Crewe stood up from his seat with arms wide open, “My son will be blessed! Let it be heard!” behind him there was an empty cradle. You lowered your head just a bit more, “My lord, I came for the matter you mentioned in your letter-” “Yes yes, not now.” Crewe lowered his voice and waved his hand annoyingly, “Later.” he then raised his voice again, “Enjoy the celebration good Master! Bless my family with good health and fortune!” You rolled your eyes while you were turning and walking away. The music resumed, as you and Eyle went to the second floor of the hall to get out of sight.

Standing by the railing, you two watched people ate and drank and laughed and danced. The both of you were still drawing some attention, with your weird outfits and behavior. However, the crowd soon divert their attention to the newcomers.

You first noticed the man with the extravagant outfit, and all the shiny jewelries- not matching his puffy black beard and messy long hair. You remembered seeing him on the wedding day of Lord Crewe- or at least the style of fashion, you remembered he was related to Crewe, but you didn’t remember exactly who he was. But what caught your attention was his companion, how he wore a leather armor to a formal event, how he carried a sword on his back.

You watched as the two of them walked up to Crewe to talk, with Crewe clearly not happy with the two visitors. “Who is that?” you tilted your head slightly towards Eyle. “That’s Gauntelle, Crewe’s cousin. They are not on good terms, and it’s getting worse after Lady Dimia, Crewe’s aunt, Gauntelle’s mother, passed away.” Eyle spoke quietly. You nodded. Crewe was leaning back against his chair lazily, seemed completely uninterested in the conversation with his cousin. “And who’s that?” you nodded towards the strange man. “I don’t know. Gauntelle doesn’t usually have a bodyguard. Perhaps he’s here for the matter.”

You stared intensely, solely at the man. The man with white hair. “...That man,” you spoke slowly, “I think I knew him...” “From your past?” Eyle turned his head a little to look at you. You didn’t brake the gaze, “I don’t know, I’m not sure.” “We could go and have a talk with him, he might know something. Or someone who would know?” There was something shiny dangling from the hilt of his sword, but you couldn’t make out the details from the distance to know what it was. You shook your head, “No.” you faced away from the ball, “It’s unwise to try and take back something I threw away.”

On the bottom floor, the white hair man turned and looked around, eyes linger on the cloaked figures before turning back to the bored Lord.

§

A servant led you through the cold stone hallway to your room. As soon as the door closed behind you, you took off the mask, “What the fuck? I thought we are here to take care of his problem?” “He’s a lord, he’d do anything he wants anytime he wants.” Eyle took over your mask and set it on the nightstand. “Ugh..” you threw yourself on the soft bed with your cloak on, “I wanna go home. We really don’t have to be here pleasing that loser. We do just fine-” “Itzel,” Eyle hang his cloak by the door, “you know why we have to do this.” “...Yeah yeah I know...”you blew a raspberry, “...This is bullshit...” Eyle came up to you, sticking his hand out. You sat up, untied your cloak.

Just when you were ready to turn in for the night, a scream pierced through the hallway. You exchanged a look with Eyle, then grabbed the mask and darted out.

There were whispers echoing in the stone wall, and a woman’s trembling voice coming from the hall. You rushed towards the noise.

There were several humanoid shapes with green hue emerging from them flying around the main hall. And there was a female servant laying on the floor, with a hideous opening on her chest. The whispers grew louder, with chuckles. You heard footfalls coming from the other hallway, Lord Crewe leading a group of soldiers with burning torches rushed in. The wraiths faded out as the orange hue of the torch light the hall.

“Where? Where are they?” Crewe was panting, acted angry. More footsteps followed, Gauntelle, dressed in a fancy night gown, and his bodyguard ran up behind you. You glanced at the dangling shiny object from his drawn sword, could’ve swore that it was a gold coin.

“You!” Crewe pointed at you and Eyle, “You are here to take care of this! Do your job!” he screamed. You stared at him amusedly, “...Yes, we are here to help. But you have to tell us the details, what causes this?” you said with a low and quiet voice. “No one knows what is happening, that’s why you are here!” Crewe waved his hand in frustration, and paced back and forth in front of his ‘throne’. “They were wraiths, and quite a few of them.” the bodyguard stepped forward, still having his shiny sword out. “Gauntelle, I told you to get rid of that thing!” Crewe’s face was red down to his neck from the yelling, “Your kind is not welcomed on my land, witcher!” he spat.

The witcher snorted, “And you think these self proclaimed blood mages can solve your problem? Blood magic doesn’t exist, if it does it’s dark magic, you will never be truly free from your problem. You need a professional.” “Your kind is cursed! You could be bringing me more trouble and I’m already having enough! Leave at once or I’ll have my men remove you!” “Brother, be reasonable. Geralt here is a professional, let him take care of this.” Gauntelle opened his arms. “Shut up! You! You are enjoying this aren’t you? You want to see me go down so you could take my place! You even brought this- this abomination! Into my castle?”

You chuckled softly, “Let’s all calm down for a bit now. It’s not the time for quarrels.” you walked past the witcher, “We got some wraiths to take care of..and I think you know more than what you let on, my lord...” you slowly approached the nervous Lord. “W-what? How dare you assume anything of me? I’m the Lord of-” “-Yeah yeah whatever...” you snorted, slowly taking off your mask and leaned into his bloated pale face, whispered, “You and I both know about your little secret chamber, where you do all your cute recreations with the maids... So let’s not waste anymore of each other's time and work together hmm?”

Crewe’s face got paler, he tumbled back and sat on the ground next to his chair. You chuckled more, “...You are the one who caused all these, just admit it. It could make everything easier.” grinned widely. The great Lord’s lips trembled, he tried to say something but couldn't. You turned and sat down on his throne gracefully, crossing your legs and gently put your elbow on the arm of the chair, and your chin on your hand.

You slowly glanced across everyone who was present- couldn’t help but noticed the white hair one was staring at you as if he saw someone dead came back alive- “Well? May I have more of your cooperation my lord?” you rest your gaze back on the Lord on the ground.

Crewe quickly stood up, straightened his tunic, cleared his throat, “...You have all my men at disposal, Master Itzel.” You smiled, “Well, first of all, I don’t need these guys, they can fuck off all they want.” you waved lazily at the soldiers, “Secondly, I’ll need you to get me two of your tubes in your play room. And don’t you bullshit me and pretend I didn’t know better...I need one of your big lab tubes.” You saw his face only going paler, and responded with a more innocent smile. “G-go on! Do what she says! Damn it!” One of soldiers scrambled away.

Eyle stood quietly next to the throne with his mask still on, while you sat on the throne looking bored- specifically ignoring the gaze of the white hair one.

§

The errant boy soon returned, passed the tube to you with a shaky hand. You smiled at him, “Thank you dear, you may go now.” then handed the tubes that was about two fingers wide to Eyle. “Now my lord, I need some of your blood.” you said lazily, gave a nod towards Crewe.

“W-what?” the Lord took a few steps back away from you, “Why do you need that?” “Don’t worry, losing a few drop won’t kill you.” you rolled your eyes dramatically, “There’s a price to everything, darling. Consider this as your payment, I’m sure you will find it quite cheap.” you smirked. Eyle approached him with the tube. Crewe looked at the tube, looked at Eyle, then looked at you. “Don’t listen to her, brother! She’s an evil witch! She works with the devils!” Gauntelle said loudly. “-You do have another option, my Lord.” the witcher spoke, gaze still fixed on you, “I can take care of the wraiths, and it will only cost you gold.” he glanced towards the Lord.

“...Stay out of this, witcher.” you spoke up, “The least you want would be an enemy with the knowledge of blood magic...” “Blood magic is not real.” “Oh?” you snorted, stood up and walked up to him, “And you think you know better?” You were inches away from him, staring up into his eyes, you felt a great sorrow emerged deep within you that was alien to you. “Don’t do this...” he whispered. You tilted your head, squinted your eyes slightly, puzzled, by the look on his face. “I’m certainly not letting a mutant telling me what I can’t do.” you smirked, “Eyle?”

In a flash, Eyle threw the Lord- who was probably weighted twice as much as Eyle- onto the ground, cut the Lord’s arm open with a sharp, weirdly twisted dagger. “Ahhhh!” Crewe screamed as Eyle pinned him down with great force, and caught the blood in the tubes.

Eyle finished his job, got up and handed one to you. You extended your arm out, took the tube, and started drinking. Without breaking eye contact with the witcher. You tilted your head up to get the last few drops, closing your eyes. The torches and the candles started flickering.

You felt the warm thick substance slid down your throat, a smile escaped from the corner of your lips. You opened your eyes, it was completely covered in a dark red color. “She’s summoning them!” Gauntelle gasped as the green lights started fading into the hall. “...Shut him up, will you?” your head turned slightly to the side, voice hoarse and cracked, weirdly hollowed. Eyle moved in the speed of lightening- the witcher was surprised for his mutated eyes could barely follow track, but he didn’t show it on his face- and knock the fancy dressing cousin out with a single blow in the temple.

All the lights were dimmed by some unseen force, the wraiths returned with more laughs and whispers. You started chanting, slowly raising your arms and dragged a long line on your marked forearm with the pointy thumb ring, the sharp end openedbup your skin effortlessly. The witcher’s face grew paler as your smile widened maliciously, the metallic smell of blood grew thicker and thicker. Thick, dark, web-like tentacles emerged from the floor, the corner of the walls, and reached for the wraiths. A new layer of whisper joined in, the witcher turned to make sure it wasn’t from someone standing next to him. Shivers running down the spines of those who were present.

You clenched your fists in the air, the tentacles snatched the flying wraiths. These poor cursed souls screamed in anguish, visibly burning and disintegrating from the inside till there’s nothing left.

The light slowly came back, the tentacles retracted into the shadow. You put down your arms, the color of deep dark maroon that was over your eyes were faded. The great Lord Crewe had already passed out cold on the ground. A dread of silence stuffed the whole room, for a moment the witcher thought he was deaf, till he realized that he could hear the blood flowing in his ear.

“...What did you do?” he asked quietly. You wiped the blood on your arm away with the corner of your dress, “I took care of the wraiths.” It was a deep slit, but it already stopped bleeding. “The wraiths, they would return-” “Of course they would. They were here because our lord likes to play sick games with the maids, nothing can really solve the problem. The wraiths will be back, it's only a matter of time.” you walked away and slid a letter into the pocket of Crewe, “However, I suggest you to stay out of this, this dimwit is in my debt now and I need him. I strongly advise you not to go against my will.” 

Mollymauk Tealeaf

He’s a stage manager for a rock band, travels all the time. Sometimes he brings you with him if you can work out your schedule. If you couldn’t make it, he’d call you everyday when he’s not there with you.

LOTS of piercing. He has all sorts of dangling bits on his ears. An eyebrow piercing, and a nose stud. He used to have his lip and tongue pierced as well, after learning that you’re a bit weirded out when you make out, he took them off.

Has very pale skin and very dark hair. All the colorful tattoos that covered the half of his body stand out vividly on his pale skin. No piercing on his body as he claims “They caught on things.”

Has scars of self-harm all over his upper torso. You cried when you learned about this, which made him panicked. He wrapped a blanket around you with you in his arms, and he talked quietly about his teenage years. He reassured you that he’s better now and he hasn’t hurt himself in years, and promised you he would never do it again.

Lot’s of accessories. Bracelets, necklaces, rings... and he switches them out to match his outfit.

When he’s at work, he wears simple white T-shit, ripped black jeans and high combat boots. Other times he’s a walking fashion show, rocking all sorts of outfit across the gender spectrum. You used to feel underdressed and insecure walking next to him, he made sure you understand you are perfect just the way you are. When you asked him to help you shop and update your wardrobe, he was more than happy to do so. Now when you two go out, he makes sure he matches what you’re wearing, either the color palette or the fabric, even it's just the accessories.

He used to smoke, but not often. It's more of a means of socializing in his line of work. After you tell him that you are worried about his health, and wish him to quit, he chews bubble gums instead. Now he only smokes when he’s overwhelmed with anxiety and when you’re not around to comfort him.

Shares skincare and makeup products with you, not like he needs the makeups, he has perfect skin and it makes you jealous. Sometimes you would help him do his eyeliner because he keeps poking himself in the eye--- you suspected that he was faking it so you can get close to him, but you enjoy doing his makeup anyway.

Has pamper night with you. Make homemade facemasks from his special recipe, and do each other’s nails. He’s very friendly with the band’s makeup team, he’d share all sorts of beauty tips with you.

A little bit too skinny. You worried if he’s eating properly when he’s away. After a while you realized that he has normal portion of meal- if not more- he just doesn’t gain weight.

You don’t really fight, but when you do he’s always the first to apologize and would do anything he can to put a smile back on your face. He would talk to you after you calmed down.

Caduceus Clay

A Lifestyle coach. The most healthy person you know. Doesn’t force you into a healthier lifestyle, but you get motivated/ashamed into being healthier anyway.

Has a little greenhouse with all sorts of vegetation. He’s a morning person, every morning you’d find him watering and talking to his plants in his little sanctuary. He has a little tray of food and water for the birds at the window of his greenhouse, once you saw squirrels came to visit.

Makes great food. Mostly vegetarian, but if you crave meat he would make it for you. Sometimes you cook together, although it’s mostly he doing the work and you distracting him.

You help dye his roots pink. His natural hair is brown, so it takes some time for the color to stick. You usually catch up with each other’s life during this time.

Actually had wild teenage years, nothing can really surprise him. He would pop the most random experience during dinner, makes you wonder if he’s lying or did he really lived a thousand lifetimes.

Dresses in a boho style. Even the interior design of the house speaks boho. He does own some formal wears for your date nights, but you felt that he could try some different things. You tried to persuade him into changing his wardrobe, but somehow he's able to find some more formal boho wears, so you gave up. He looks good anyway.

He makes tea for you when you’re working, and gives you a good massage on your neck and shoulders when he senses the tension. Sometimes he even gives you a scalp massage.

Knows reiki healing. When you’re too stressed out and couldn’t sleep, he’d do some reiki healing on you. It’s greatly relaxing while his calming voice eases you from the anxiety, and you often fall asleep before the session is completed.

He’s a tall guy. It intimidated you when you first met. After spending some time together you realized he’s the most gentle man you’ve ever met. You never fight, whenever there’s a conflict he tries to solve it calmly and with reason. 

He likes knitting/crocheting. He makes decorations and blankets for the house, and comfy sweater for you.

You wear his shirts to sleep, as they are huge for you. He adores it cuz you seem smaller than you do when you’re in his shirt.

Loves the nature, would take you to national parks and beaches for a walk. Plans a camping trip every year, either it’d be nights in a tent with cozy campfires in the forest or a little wooden cabin near the lake.

Yasha Nydoorin

She’s the bassist of the band Molly works for, the two of them are close.

She doesn’t bring you along when she needs to travel for work, as she prefers staying focus. However as soon as the show is over, she catches the next plane and goes straight back home to you no matter how late it is.

Mostly dress in black and white. Once when you went shopping together, you caught her staring at a flowery summer dress, so you bought it for her birthday, which made her very happy. But she only wears it for your date night. Sometimes she wear the clothes you bought for her- none black and white- on stage, Molly would teases her but she doesn’t mind.

Not very good at singing. Only because she gets too nervous and couldn’t get her voice out. After you reassuring her she has a beautiful voice and that you would never judge her, she shyly sang you the songs she wrote for you- although still a bit out of tune.

When she’s working on a new song, she’d have her hair tied into a simple ponytail- if you’re not there braiding it and distracting her.

Owns a jet black motorbike, and when she’s not working she’d send you to work and pick you up after.

Doesn’t wear makeups, and doesn’t really know how to, Molly usually is the one she goes to if she needs makeup. When you two moved in together you had to educate her on doing skincare, and had to remind her the importance of sunscreen, for she has very pale skin. Now she comes to you for smoky eyes, and if she’s feeling adventurous, she’d let you do some more colorful looks.

You two don’t really argue, she always agrees to you. Sometimes you wish she has more opinions of her own, and you’d encourage her to do so. Once she had a different idea of where she wanted to go for the weekends- she said it timidly- you were over the moon and it actually gave her more confident. 

She feels bad about how she’s always away for work, even though you told her a million times you don’t mind. She often tries to do nice things for you, bringing you trinkets when she comes home, taking pictures on her travels so she can show you afterwards. She tried cooking for you once but she’s terrible at it, and almost burnt the house down.

Had no concept of “pajamas” before meeting you, she used to wear a pair of tight black jeans and nothing on top to bed. Now her travelling bag is packed with different color of pastel PJs that are made with the softest materials. She felt awkward putting them on at first- even though no one would see her- after realizing these are washed with the same detergent you’re using, she loves them.

Beauregard Lionett

She’s a personal trainer working in your gym. And she was actually the one who came up to you first. It was so awkward that you actually laughed, making her flustered and wanted to ran away. You apologized and accepted her date invitation eventually.

She‘s also an amateur boxer, and has won several contests. She doesn’t really care about the trophies, she left them in the corner of a cupboard gaining dust. After you moved in together, you found every one of the medal and trophy she owns, polished them and put them on the shelf for display.

Before you met, all she wore was comfy-training outfit. Now she has various style to choose from, for you buying her clothes all the time, claiming anything would look nice on her with her perfectly fit body.

She usually wakes up early, do her morning exercises, shower, then bring coffee to your room to wake you up. Then the two of you would cuddle and discuss the plan for the day.

Teaches you self-defense skills and makes sure you can counteract anytime anywhere. Meaning she’d tackle you anytime anywhere.

When you first got together, she’d say hurtful things during a fight. She would then beat herself up and do some extreme training till she couldn’t move anymore. She’s better at communication now after having several “social training” sessions with her friend, Fjord, and she would slowly count to ten while focusing on her breath when she feels like she would say something to hurt you.

Very socially awkward. She relies on you in most social situations, but you give her small tips and let her practice when you got the chance. It’s sort of a pay back for tackling you in public but you’d never admit it.

A terrible driver, both skill-wise and manner-wise. You banned her to drive your car after she crashed it the second time. Now she drives more carefully, but still has bad temper when she does.

She secretly planned to get you a pet for your birthday, but couldn’t decide on if she should get you a puppy or a kitten. So she got you both.

Has drink night with her friends every other week, sometimes she brings you with her. But when you’re not there, all she talks about is you.

Jester Lavorre

She works as an independent fashion designer. All her inspirations are coming from you, and she wouldn’t let you wear anything that’s not from her. She’d go without sleep to make you new clothes if she has to.

You have to look after her diet, for she only has pastries for her meals. On the weekends you would force her out of bed in the morning and make her jog with you around the block. She always wines at first, and is always the last to want to go home.

Has puffy bob hair in the color of hazel, and light freckles on her face. It takes her hours to take care of her hair, and sometimes she screams in frustration in the bathroom. You’d come in to help while trying to calm her. Eventually you’d give her a cute side braid with a flower pin, and she’d thank you with a kiss on the cheek.

She has an obsession of unicorns. Her collection is insane. At one point you had to rent a storage place for all the plushies. After a serious talk you now have a displaying cupboard dedicating to her unicorn collections, and only two are allowed to be out.

She has a very close relationship with her mother, and you two would go over to her house almost every week to have dinner. Marion absolutely adores you, and sees you as her second child.

When you first met, she often spoke about her uncle Artagan. The more you learned about this “uncle” the less you trust him. You found out that he wasn’t actually related to her when you first met him, which made you grew hostile towards him. After a while you realized that he actually cares about Jester very much, and now you two are on better terms.

She is very confident about herself, always has bold makeup and dresses in bright colors. She also gives you a lot of compliments, making you feel good about yourself as well.

Being the daughter of a famous actress, she usually can get free premiere tickets to huge movies, and you two would have a special date night.

You adore her pranks. They are usually harmless and funny. Sometimes you join her in her plan, and sometimes you would have to pull her back once you sense that it might go too far.

You sometimes fight, but it’s never anything serious, and it always ends up with giggles and jokes.

Fjord

Former professional swimmer, now a swimming coach, specifically coaching national team. You joked about him might actually be a fish, for he has to go swim everyday or he’d lose his mind.

You ususally play video games with him, and you are actually better than him. Sometimes he gets frustrated for losing, and it hurts his pride a little. When you noticed he’s getting frustrated you’d subtly lose to him on purpose. He appreciates that a lot.

Mostly wears soft and comfortable clothes, meaning T-shirts and sweat pants. You tried to style him a couple of times, but he’s a stubborn little brat, so you gave up eventually. He’s in such good shape that even plain white T looks like a fashion item on him.

Owns a sports bike. He often takes you on a road trip, driving you to the beach. You would had dinner while enjoying the beautiful sunset before heading home with the night scene of the city aside.

Being a bulky dude as he is, he’s actually a timid guy. You make him watch horror movies with you, with all the lights out. He’d claim that he’s not afraid, while sitting as close to you as he can. You are often distracted from the movie, and focus more on his reaction. And of course, you are the one who has to take care of the bugs in the bathroom.

You help giving advice and social tips to his friend, Beauregard, when she comes over for dinner, complaining about how she couldn’t keep her clients. She likes you a lot and would tease Fjord about how he doesn’t deserve you.

Is actually a helpless romantic. Romcom makes him cry every time. He’d buy you flowers when he’s back from work.

Veth Brenatto -  Platinum

Owns a tailor shop, although she doesn’t know how to sew. She likes pretty buttons and has a great collection. Sometimes you wonder if she opened the shop just so she can have all the buttons.

She’s the “mom friend” everyone has. Always takes good care of you. When you come over for dinner, she makes sure you have more than enough, and would let you take the leftover home.

She’s a petite woman, but she’s fierce, she’d stab anyone who dare to hurt you.

You often go babysit Luk, her son, when Mr and Mrs Brenatto are having a date night. You’d play board games together in the afernoon, have whatever Veth left in the fridge for dinner and watch cartoons on TV. Usually the couple would come home, finding both of you asleep at the couch.

You’re Luk’s best friend. He likes you so much that he claimed more than once that he wants to marry you when he grew up.

Tries to set you up with her customers, or Yeza’s co-workers at the medicine company.