#arnell hallowleaf

"My darling girl. The last time I saw you cry, you cut your knee while chasing a frog."

aweee yess this is so cute

Shadowheart x Durge!reader | A New Family

The first time you meet Arnell and Emmeline, you are so tense you feel like your spine is made of iron.

Not because they are cruel—on the contrary, Shadowheart’s parents are kind in a way that unsettles you, gentle in a way that makes something deep in your chest ache. But they are still parents. And parents are supposed to protect their children. What will they think when they look at you? Will they see the woman their daughter loves, or will they see the monster you used to be?

They know about your past. Of course they do.

Shadowheart had told them, in careful words, about what you were, what you did, the blood you had spilled. You don’t blame her. They deserve to know. But she also told them about the way you have fought against it, the way you chose to walk away from the destiny forced upon you. The way you have chosen her, again and again.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier when you step through their door, your hand wrapped tightly around Shadowheart’s, and meet their wary eyes for the first time.

At first, things are… polite. Too polite. Every conversation feels measured, careful, as though they are testing the ground beneath them before stepping forward. Emmeline asks you questions, but she does so cautiously, gauging every reaction. Arnell watches you with quiet intensity—not out of hostility, but out of protectiveness. He has already lost his daughter once. He will not lose her again.

You don’t fault him for it. If anything, you respect it.

But Shadowheart sees you. She sees the stiffness in your posture, the way you keep a careful distance, the way your fingers twitch at your sides like you are expecting to be called to battle at any moment. So she does what she always does. She grounds you.

She never lets go of your hand, her grip a steady warmth against your skin. When you sit down to eat, she presses her knee against yours beneath the table. When she speaks of you, there is no hesitation, no shame—only love, only devotion. And it helps. It helps so much.

Slowly, things begin to shift.

Arnell still watches you carefully, but now, there is something softer in his eyes. Emmeline still measures her words, but she starts placing extra portions on your plate without asking, as if she has simply decided you must be hungry. The gestures are small, but they speak volumes.

The realization creeps up on you slowly. That you are starting to relax. That you don’t feel the urge to reach for your weapon every time someone enters the room. That this place—this small, simple home filled with laughter and quiet conversations—is not something you need to defend yourself against.

That it might just be safe.

That night, after dinner, you sit beside the fire with Shadowheart curled against your side, her head resting against your shoulder. Emmeline sits across from you, quietly darning a tear in one of your shirts. You don’t even remember giving it to her, and the realization startles you.

It’s such a simple thing. Something a mother would do for a child. Something no one has ever done for you.

Shadowheart shifts against you, tilting her head up to press a soft kiss on your cheek. The gesture is so tender it makes your throat tighten, makes your fingers twitch against your thigh.

“Your childhood,” she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. “They never gave you one.”

Arnell and Emmeline both look up, their expressions unreadable.

Shadowheart doesn’t look at them—her gaze is fixed on you, her fingers curling around your own, tracing the creases of your palm.

“They didn’t let you be a child,” she continues, so quiet you almost don’t hear her. “They trained you. Like a weapon.”

Arnell inhales sharply, and his hand clenches at his side.You open your mouth, but you don’t know what to say. She’s right. And you don’t know what to do with the grief in her voice, the sorrow in her eyes. She looks away from you then, turning to her parents.

“They never had a family,” she says softly. “Not like this.”

Another silence stretches between you all, heavy and unspoken.

And then Emmeline, without so much as a second’s hesitation, says, “Well, they do now.”

You freeze. Your breath catches.

Arnell nods beside her, his expression softening. “It doesn’t matter what you were made for,” he says simply. “You’re ours now.”

It’s too much. Too big. You can feel Shadowheart watching you, but you can’t meet her gaze. Your fingers tremble where they rest against your thigh. You don’t know how to have this, how to accept it.

But then Shadowheart’s hand is on your cheek, gently turning you to face her.Her eyes shine in the firelight, soft and steady, as if willing you to believe it.

You swallow thickly, your fingers twitching at your side. You want to say something, to acknowledge what they have given you. But the words don’t come.

Emmeline just smiles, like she knows, like she understands. Like she isn’t waiting for words you don’t have. Instead, she pats your knee and turns back to her sewing, as if it has already been decided.

And maybe it has. Shadowheart squeezes your hand, her lips brushing softly against your temple.

“I love you,” she whispers.

And as you close your eyes, resting your forehead against hers, you realize—

This is what family feels like.

So wholesome honestly, love a bit of my shadowheart. Sorry for being a bit awol recently, my ankle is mangled and work is chaos lmaoo but I love escaping on here. So hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

Baldur's Gate Text Posts: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

It's done and so is my wrist, hope everybody saw this because I will NOT be doing it again. The happy conclusion to Neph's campaign!

You'll find out who's writing that text in the margins soon.