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the-insomniac-emporium · 7 months

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Words Of Prey {Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU} Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for general themes Warnings: None AU Description: People have the first words their soulmate will say to them written on their wrist/forearm. Most people chose a specific quote (referred to as their “soul phrase”) that they use every time they meet somebody new. Summary: After a sleepless night, you meet up with your soulmate, surprised to see a side of her that you have never seen before. A side that you can't help but want to get to know better... Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Of All Your Dreams, Pt. 2: The Dreaded Dawn

Chapter 3: Second Chance

All around you, slow and steady breathing forms lulling waves of white noise, but slumber evades you all the same. Only a couple hours separated you and your roommates from the start of the night shift. Another day, another grueling workload, overwhelming yet tedious… or at least, that was what awaited your peers. As for your own fate, that was an ordeal of its own, unknown, a dark veil obscuring your future. How could you sleep when you had no plan for how to face the coming day?

Fleeting moments of rest had come to you earlier, restless slumber with strange dreams, bright visions laid over jazzy humming. It was the same tune you had heard from Daniela last night, the nature of its familiarity still eluding you. Somehow it turns into something comforting. Even now, as you once more lie awake, the melody drifts through your mind. You get so absorbed in the soft swing that you don’t notice the maidens from the day shift shuffling in- at least not until one of them is kneeling by the side of your bed, face obscured by shadow.

They clear their throat, as loud as they dare, one hand gently nudging your shoulder. When you start to sit up, they seem startled enough that you pause halfway. A nervous energy radiates from the shakiness of their silhouette, infectious, and you’re relieved when they hand you a note and shuffle off, glancing around as they go. Curiosity overwhelms, your mind eager to displace your earlier pondering and abandon the pursuit of sleep altogether.

Still, you wait another minute for the stranger’s sake, lying in the dark with the note held close to your chest. Ever so faintly the scent of vellum and cinnamon tickles your senses. Ah, you think, recognizing the smell that often accompanies Lady Daniela, I guessed as much. Who else would send you such a thing? Once you are certain the other maiden has moved on, and that no one is paying you any mind, you quietly make your way to the shared lounge.

A few square tables occupy the center of the room, with a larger rectangular one placed up against a window on one side, an assortment of shelves and dressers filling empty space along the walls. Overhead is a chandelier, relatively simple in comparison to any of those in the main sections of the castle. On the wall opposite from the window hangs a large portrait of a noblewoman, who you’ve always assumed to be a much younger Lady Dimitrescu, beautifully painted yet unsettling in nature. Always watching over those within her domain.

One of the tables is currently taken, two of the day shift workers chatting quietly over bread and cheese. The older of the two acknowledges you with a nod, but otherwise pays you no mind, which is what you expected. Despite living in close quarters, you didn’t really know either of them. At best you could say you were pretty sure they worked in the kitchen (a guess based entirely on the flour dusting their uniforms). In this case, the lack of familiarity worked in your favor, as the duo huddle a little closer to keep their conversation private, allowing you to check the note without any unwanted attention.

Unfolding the parchment, you find two things: dried flower petals, specifically from blue and yellow orchids, and a message in surprisingly neat handwriting. You’re not sure if Daniela’s cursive is normally this legible, or if she put in extra effort for your sake. Meet me before your shift starts, in the western hall. Love, your darling soulmate. Anxiety stirs within your chest once more, although you know there is no point in delaying the inevitable. With oddly steady heads, you refold the note, tuck it in your pocket, and head to change into your work uniform…

-----

Ten minutes later, including two minutes of giving a bareboned explanation for your departure to the ever-vigilant head maid, you’re carefully slinking down the winding halls of the castle. Every stray sound gives you a moment of pause, making you wonder if the other ladies of the house are already awake. It’s not unusual for them to stretch beyond their mostly nocturnal habits. What is odd is the relief you feel when you finally turn the last corner and find Daniela.

She’s at a window, watching something outside with a forlorn expression, so focused that she doesn’t immediately hear you approaching. By this hour all but the last rays of light have faded from the sky, and only a sliver of moonlight is reflected in her mismatched eyes. There’s no denying her beauty at this moment. Like a painting personified, a masterpiece come to life, urging your heart to look for the meaning in the layers of her existence. Certainly there’s a story behind the scars along the shaved side of her head, a story in the rose on her forehead… but more importantly, there is a story behind the tiny breath she lets out when she finally sees you. Air gives way to a hum, her lips curling into a tired smile, and she gestures for you to come closer.

“You came,” she says, almost giddy, her joy not quite covering up the relief in her voice. Despite all of your anxiety regarding this meeting, never once had you considered that Daniela might also be worried. For all her bravado, her charm and her flirtation, there is still a young woman with her heart cradled in her hands. Even now, she does not offer it to you. No, you merely catch a glimpse of it, as she steps closer, hesitating only once you’re close enough to touch. Something in her expression is startlingly human. The relief, the exhaustion, her usual energy giving way to a gentle hopefulness. “Did you rest well, my dear?”

“I can’t say I did,” you reply, softly. Another hum from Daniela, this time a short note of sympathy, and she reaches to take your hand in her own. A lump forms in your throat as you bear witness to the compassion in her gaze. It’s hard to believe this is the same woman you’ve seen shedding blood and tossing people around; between the change in her demeanor and your own tiredness, you find yourself temporarily setting aside your grievances. Swallowing hard, you feel compelled to admit the second half of your restlessness. “When I did sleep, I… I dreamed of you. There was simply too much anxiety underneath to stay asleep.”

“Mmm, I am glad I was in your mind, even if not in your bed,” Daniela chimes, thumb brushing over the back of your hand, subconsciously leaning closer to you. Again, the scent of her perfume washes over you, only this time you detect the metallic undercurrents of blood. It floods your nostrils, strangely intoxicating, your body instinctively shifting to align yourself with her. A grin comes to life on her face as she notices your movements. “I know that I didn’t make the best first impression, but I’m glad to see you’re finding room for me in your heart, and I promise that things will only get better from here.”

With that, she closes the last iota of distance between the two of you, and you brace for another awkward kiss. Instead, Daniela holds you. Tucks your head in against the crook of her neck, resting her chin alongside your ear (no doubt lamenting the fact that she isn’t quite tall enough to rest it on the top of your head), her arms wrapping around you loosely. The moment lingers. Covers you, a welcome blanket of comfort after an almost sleepless night.

You almost start humming her song, but she speaks up, her voice a sweeter melody than the one in your brain.

“I’m not sure what to tell my family, if we should tell them at all,” she murmurs, the slight lilt to her voice detracting from the discomfort of her words. Regardless, your body tenses up, and Daniela is quick to elaborate in her own defense. “The timing- the damn timing- may have them doubting our soul bond. To think that I would meet my soulmate the same night that my sisters mocked me for such concepts…” Bitterness seeps into her tone, and her grip on you becomes protective, as if she is already preparing to defend you from the ire and suspicions of her family.

“They may find it easier to believe when they see the words on my wrist, for better or worse,” you say, unsure whether your statement will bring comfort or heartache. Even Daniela pauses, considering, thoughtfulness eventually giving way to a slight pout. One arm uncurls from around your waist, her hand moving to trace the cursed sentence on your skin. I need a distraction, and you’ll do just fine. The sound of those words will live forever in your brain. So too, however, will the way Daniela’s voice cracked when she realized you’re her soulmate.

“You deserved better,” she whispers, her voice reduced to a terribly fragile thing. Although she refers to you, there is an underlying depth to her words, the acknowledgement that somewhere along the line, she deserved better, too. From her family, from fate, from her own hands. Soft words form in your throat, a warmth bubbling in your chest, but a faint sound has Daniela going rigid. “They’re awake. Go, hide in one of the nearby rooms, I’ll get you when it’s safe.”

Leaving no time to argue, she gives you a gentle nudge, her gaze locked on the opposite side of the hallway. Whatever she hears is too quiet to reach your ears, but you know better than to question her senses. Your earlier tension revived, you waste no time in absconding, sparing only one parting glance before ducking into a side room. The space is relatively small, its original purpose obscured by a layer of dust and scattered objects. Nowhere to hide if the ladies of the house realized your presence. And they would, wouldn’t they? Senses honed to seek out prey, to pinpoint fleeing maidens, able to taste your fear in the air. If you were lucky, they would be too focused on Daniela to bother terrorizing you.

“Hmmm, what’s this, sister? Do my eyes deceive me?” Cassandra chimes, somehow loud enough for you to hear through the door (and over the sound of your heart beating in your ears). Mirth soaks her tone, cruelties underlining the words, as if she can’t quite decide whether she’s still mad about yesterday. A laugh follows, the high lilting kind you can only assume comes from Bela.

“How strange. Our little sister is awake, bright and early, long before breakfast. Cassandra, what do you think has her skipping slumber?” Bela adds, equally as teasing, just enough of an edge to indicate intentional insult. It’s common knowledge that Daniela isn’t a morning person. Always coming late to the dining room, stifling a yawn as she does, oftentimes without changing out of her nightgown. But normally her siblings didn’t mind- more than once you had even seen them making sure her favorite dishes were still available by the time she arrived. For Bela to use this as a point of contention… the argument must have bothered her much more than you would have expected.

Unfortunately, Daniela’s attempts at defending herself are quickly cut off.

“Ooooh, I bet she’s doing what the Maidens call a walk of shame, coming back from yet another dalliance with some unlucky girl,” Cassandra says, losing more and more of the humor from her voice. Evidently, she was incredibly upset about getting thrown at the wall yesterday. Or perhaps things had only gotten worse once they moved to their mother’s office?... Regardless, this is the first time you’ve witnessed the sisters have an extended spat. “Do you think she made them pretend to be her soulmate? Made them say her special words, maybe took a knife to carve away the wrong ones on their wrist, or-”

“Cassandra,” Bela warns, still about ten seconds later than she’d normally step in. When she continues, none of her earlier teasing remains, replaced in its entirety by gentle disappointment. “That’s enough, you know that Daniela is… sensitive about these things. Now come along, we can leave her to sulk in peace.” There are several seconds of tense silence, wherein you can only imagine the two are communicating through facial expressions, before Cassandra huffs, and you hear two pairs of footsteps leading away.

Technically, Daniela had asked you not to come out of hiding until she came for you. Technically, you were still scared that her sisters might be close. But something about their behavior had irked you to the point of action; there was a haunting familiarity in the way that they dismissed her. The melody of sympathy in your chest struck several chords as you exit your hiding place, peeking out slowly, eyes catching sight of Daniela sitting on the floor, on the verge of tears. Both of her hands fiddle with themselves, flexing and unflexing to the rhythm of her distress. When she sees you, panic lights up her eyes, and she’s quick to mouth a warning, not daring to say it out loud. They can still hear us.

Perhaps that was why she was working so hard to avoid crying. If they heard her sobbing, her sisters would only feel like their claims had been proven. With a deep, shaky breath, you steady your nerves and approach Daniela with the intent to spite her sisters. Slowly, you kneel in front of her, offering a hand for her to take. Then you silently voice the start of your plan: Say your words, your soul phrase. Her eyes widen, hesitation heavy in her heart, searching your face and measuring your confidence. When she sees the strength of your resolve, she gives in.

“I,” she starts, voice shaky, so much softer than it had been when she first spoke to you, “I need a- a distraction, and you’ll do just fine.” This time there’s an upswing at the end, an aching heart giving way to hope. She sounds even more desperate than she had yesterday, yet the feeling at the core of her speech feels different, in a way that you had never imagined. All those years you spent damning your soulmate, never once imagining a way for her phrase to be positive.

And now you know there has always been a kinder alternative. It’s no act when a soft exhale passes your stunned lips, nor when your hand moves to caress her cheek. Nothing could instantly undo the years of contempt and cynicism, of course, but this felt like a step towards neutral ground.

“Of all my dreams, this is the one that comes true,” you breathe, pouring your heart into the words, compiling every bit of missed opportunities into the soul phrase. The hushed words are nigh reverent. Filled with the promise that you will be softer than those that came before. Daniela’s reaction isn’t quite instantaneous, and you do not know if she is acting for the sake of her sisters, or if she is stunned by this display. It matters not- either way she cups your face in her hands, a sharp inhale transforming into airy giggles, her forehead leaning against your own.

She spares a single glance away from you, a sudden head tilt letting you know that a sound has caught her attention. But her focus is back on you in an instant, her smile even brighter than before, and you feel certain that her sisters have heard your exchange. It will be much harder for them to make fun of her romantic fantasies now that one of hers has come true. You’re not entirely sure why this matters so much to you, nor why your face feels so flush at Daniela’s closeness, all you know is that this feels like a victory. With matching grins, the two of you rise to meet the day with renewed energy.

“Come, my soulmate,” you start to say, only half playing it up for your hidden audience, “let me take care of you.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #soulmate au #resident evil imagines #reader insert #character x reader #oh we're so back #it's been too long

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gloryseized · 4 days

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[HAIR KISS NIP] Affection, tenderness: a gesture of affection and care. ( from r. revali )

Meme Tag -- @flockrest

Link's cheeks are flushed, breath misting in the cold air as he finally allows himself to take a break, the raw ache in the place where his right arm used to be doing most of the work to bring him to the ground. Mechanized bits and bobs have rubbed the reminder of the stump on his right arm raw, and he hisses slightly as he reaches up to release the strap that holds the replacement mechanical arm in place.

The arm is the work of Robbie and Purah's--they're pride and joy as far as Link can tell. Their joint effort that Link can't help be suspicious that the pair took too much delight in creating for him. Most days, Link is grateful to be able to have functionally two arms again, especially after the hand granted to him by Rauru vanished once the spell on Zelda ended. But there are also days when he's reminded that this new arm did not transition quite so seamlessly as Rauru's had. He doesn't even have any sort of sensation in this new arm, except for the burning in his stump where it rubbed.

And he knows he should take it slow too, allow his body to grow more used to the prosthesis, but if he has to sit in one place for any longer, he might do something drastic, and Zelda already has enough on her plate, shifting back into the rebuilding process for the realm. Besides, Purah said he should remain active with his new arm, although she probably didn't mean attempting the strenuous Rito archery range, shifting from bow to paraglider and back again. He's completed several runs at that, although his aim is a bit off, and he lands heavily at the observation tower to take a break. Maybe call it for the day?

But no, Revali is there. Looking like himself more than ever, and still Link can't even begin to read his expression--a cross between concerned and vaguely constipated, as far as Link could tell. He's surely about to get some kind of reprimand, a mocking commentary about how even a 'nestling could hit the targets with more grace, flare, and style' than what the Champion has just witnessed. And Link wrenches the prosthetic arm off his body, the sweat beading the area and heat rising off his body from there too. Just a short break then. He can't be seen resting too long with Revali there.

Resisting the urge to throw the mechanical arm into the snow drifts below, Link sets it down on the wooden platform next to him, taking a swig from his canteen before searching through his pack for medicine or food, whichever comes first. With his eyes locked on what he's doing, he doesn't actually see Revali grow closer, although he does feel it, expecting the remarks to come at any time, but instead of his usual words, Link feels a brush at the crown of his head, brushing some hair out of his line of sight as he looks down, followed by several more lines drawn through his hair.

Gentle, oh so gentle. Not the pulling he's felt when brushing his own hair, and especially not the pain he's felt after he's forgotten to tie his hair back or it's gotten particularly dirty. No, this is a different sensation, and Link looks up sharply to see Revali's face suddenly very close to his own.

Goddess, is he blushing? Can Rito blush? A distracted part of Link wonders as the Rito fluffs the feather in his chest. 'You looked like a fledgling after their first flight,' Revali says, a scolding in his voice somehow, although Link isn't exactly sure what he's being scolded for.

Bemused blue eyes blink up at Revali before something almost like a smile tugs the corner of Link's mouth. Eyes drop down again just as quickly, hand tapping once to his mouth before swinging forward. << Thank you. >> he signs politely, confused thoughts still racing around his mind.

#flockrest #hair like a fledgling #mute courage || link #oh we're so back #we were talking about parallels for these two and that got me Thinking about another painful parallel for them #anyway i'm fine this is fine and im shaking the both of them

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