#bela dimitrescu fanfic

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 13

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

The world around you was a blur, caught somewhere between a dream and wakefulness. Everything felt heavy, like you were sinking into something soft yet solid beneath you. Warmth surrounded you, pressing against your back, steady and unmoving.

Something large and broad glided through your hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. The sensation was soothing, pulling you deeper into the haze. A soft hum drifted through the air, low and melodic, wrapping around you like a lullaby.

You tried to move, to blink yourself awake, but your limbs refused to listen, weighed down by drowsiness. Instead, you surrendered to the touch, the sound, the presence that cradled you here – keeping you safe in this in-between place.

And with that, you allowed yourself to float away.

***

A dull, throbbing ache pulsed in your wrist. It was the first thing you noticed as it dragged you from the murky depths of unconsciousness. The space around you was slow to come back – there was the scent of wine and old wood, the distant crackling of a fireplace.

Then – footsteps. Loud, purposeful, closing in fast.

The bed dipped beside you, and a shadow loomed, blocking out the dim candlelight. You forced your heavy eyelids open, your vision swimming before settling on the towering figure.

Lady Dimitrescu.

She was impossibly close, hovering over you. Her golden eyes, usually so unreadable, now brimmed with something unnerving – concern, relief… desperation.

“My sweet girl,” she murmured, her voice softer than you'd ever heard it. “I thought I had lost you.”

Her gloved hand cupped your left cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin. You tried to move but the sharp bite of pain in your wrist stopped you. A low whimper slipped past your lips before you could silence it. Lady Dimitrescu reacted instantly. Her fingers closed around your hand – too gentle, too careful, as if you were something fragile, something breakable.

Your stomach twisted with disgust and frustration. You were supposed to be gone. You were supposed to escape this. Escape her.

But she wouldn’t let you.

Of course, she wouldn’t let you.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and raw. The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth. “Why am I still here?”

Something flashed in Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes – pain, disbelief, perhaps even anger – but it was gone just as quickly. She exhaled softly, her other hand carefully encircling your injured wrist and you flinched at the touch. For a long moment, she simply looked at you.

“I can’t lose you,” Lady Dimitrescu said, and for the first time, her voice lacked its usual arrogance. There was no command, no snide remark – only quiet desperation. “Not to anyone. Not even to yourself.”

A tense silence stretched between you, broken only by the slow, uneven rhythm of your breath.

You turned your head away, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “You should’ve let me die.”

Lady Dimitrescu exhaled sharply through her nose, and for a split second, you actually expected her anger this time. Perhaps another possessive claim, another cruel insistence that you belonged to her. But it never came. Instead, the bed creaked as she moved closer, her warmth pressing into your side.

“I would never do such a thing.” She stated plainly, as if the very idea was absurd.

Your throat constricted as tears began to gather in your eyes. “You only saved me because you don’t want to lose your plaything.”

Her fingers grazed against your cheek once more, light and hesitant. “No.”

You met her gaze, and you saw something there that made every muscle in your body freeze.

“I saved you because I…” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice faltered, her lips parting ever so slightly, yet the sentence remained unfinished.

You watched her, waiting with bated breath. You could feel the weight of the words she wanted to say but she hesitated. Your heart clenched, though you couldn't tell whether it was from fear, anger, or something else entirely.

Lady Dimitrescu sighed, composing herself, though her golden eyes remained fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. Without a word, she lifted your injured wrist carefully. Her fingers ghosted over the bandages, the tenderness in her touch almost reverent.

“You’re in pain.” She said, as if just realizing it.

It was an obvious attempt to shift the focus away from her earlier words. And you were fine with that.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, turning your head away once more. “What does it matter?”

Lady Dimitrescu's jaw clenched, her voice low and firm. “It matters to me.”

A hollow laugh escaped your lips. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Her expression wavered, frustration flickering in her eyes before regret softened the tension in her brow.

“I won’t pretend I’ve been kind,” Lady Dimitrescu finally said, her voice quieter now. “I’ve been… harsh. Cruel, even. But I never wanted this.”

You scoffed. “You never wanted me to die? Congratulations. That doesn’t make you a saint.”

Her gaze hardened briefly, but the intensity faded as quickly as it had come. When she spoke again, she sounded… tired.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, a bitter knot twisting in your stomach. You hated her. You hated that you had failed.

“I won’t allow you to do this again,” Lady Dimitrescu's voice took on an icy edge now, the concern in her tone slipping away, replaced by something more dangerous. “I will keep you safe.”

Safe. The word made you want to scream. Of course, the Lady would see her own actions as protection in her twisted mind, but to you, they were anything but. The memory of being drugged, having your free will stripped away, that was something you would never forget. Safe? What a joke.

Her thumb traced slow, deliberate circles over your bandaged wrist. The touch was possessive, claiming in nature. You wanted to recoil, to rip yourself away from her grasp, but your body was still too weak to resist.

“I’ll do it again,” you rasped, your voice hardening despite its hoarse edge. “You can’t stop me forever. I’ll find a way.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Lady Dimitrescu's thumb, which had been idly circling your wrist, stilled. She simply studied you, her gaze intent, unreadable.

“Do you think I don’t see through you?” Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrowed, sharp and assessing. “That I don’t know exactly what you're trying to do?”

Your pulse quickened, but you didn’t dare speak.

“I know you long to be with your family again,” her gaze lingered on you, as if cataloging every flicker of emotion on your face into her memory. “I cannot grant you everything you desire but I am willing to offer a compromise.”

Your body stiffened, wariness building in your chest.

“What do you mean?” You asked, suspicion lacing your tone.

“I will allow you to see your parents.” Lady Dimitrescu said at last.

Your breath hitched and your eyes widened in surprise at her words.

“There will be conditions, of course,” she continued smoothly, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You may see them, but only within my castle and under my supervision. That is, if you prove yourself… well-behaved.”

A stunned silence settled between you two.

You… you weren’t expecting that. She was offering this – relinquishing control, even if just a fraction of it. You felt lightheaded and overwhelmed. You should be angry that she was still imposing conditions, but all you could think about was the fact that you may be able to see your mother and father again.

“You mean it?” You breathed out.

“I do,” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her thumb returning to trace slow, light circles on your wrist. “If it keeps you from doing something reckless again, then yes. I mean it.”

For the first time in a long while, a sense of hope flickered in your chest. It was small and fragile, but it was there.

Then you swallowed and carefully added, “And Catalina?”

Lady Dimitrescu’s expression darkened slightly.

“I won’t make any promises,” she admitted, her voice cool and measured. “As long as she doesn’t step out of line, no unnecessary harm will come to her.”

It wasn’t the assurance you had hoped for, but it was more than you had dared to expect.

You stared at the Lady, searching for any hint of deception, for some cruel trick hiding beneath her words. But for once, she didn’t seem to be toying with you. This was her compromise. Your heart hammered in your chest. This wasn’t freedom. Not truly. But it was a crack in the walls that had once seemed impenetrable.

And for now, that was enough.

[bee-nutauthor]

Notice about my fanfics and advice to authors to protect their fics!

I will unfortunately have to take down some of my fics. Recently this message was sent from this person

The fics that I write are based off of my original already published fiction only changed up to fit into the fandoms I want to share my stories with because I want people who can't read my published works be able to read them for free in other ways

Plagarizing from my fics means the person is plagerizing from my works and thus will get sued.

For those of you who are wenclair writers, please be advised someone like this is going around and possibly stealing ideas from your fanfics as well!

Spread the word so you can protect your fics!

It seems that nowadays people can't share anything for free without being taken advantage for it. I will be taking down my fics. I apologize to everyone who genuinely enjoyed them but this sort of behavior is not alright.

[ranchracoon]

Dirty Little Secret

Bela Dimitrescu x G!P Reader

Requested by: StrangerJump

*NSFW*

*blow job, smut*

Bela Dimitrescu: Oldest daughter of the renown Lady Dimitrescu, heiress to a fortune, respected and feared by all those below her, if only they knew. It was no secret that the daughters played around with the staff, it was a certain death sentence especially with Bela or Cassandra, they always killed their lovers shortly after. You on the other hand, you peaked Bela's curiosity when she saw you barking orders around to some incompetent maids caught slacking. You weren't well liked because you were a stickler for following orders, she assumed you simply didn't want to die. She ordered you to her chambers one night, allowed you to see her in all her naked splendor. She didn't want to kill you, but she couldn't have the staff knowing her secret; she loved to be submissive. All day she's in charge, ordering around maidens, keeping her sisters in line, and making sure the castle stays afloat. When she wants pleasure, she wants all the focus on her, to have someone else take charge and tell her what to do. 

She pulled you into her bedroom, locking the door and sealing your fate as she unbuttoned your blouse. You didn't want to though, it confused her, why wouldn't someone want to be with her? Is she not pretty enough? Maybe you're too scared. No you have a little secret of your own. Bela pinned you on the wall, when she felt it, the harden poke through your pants. You broke out into a nervous sweat, surely she would kill you for finding out, but instead she now has leverage on you as well. 

"Please don't tell anyone" you begged. 

"I won't, on one condition: you become my pet. Service me whenever I want, wherever I want, and if you tell anyone about our relationship I'll cut it off" she threatened. 

From there it flowered, you got bolder when you found out that big, bad, Bela likes to be handled like a fuck toy. You start making demands during your playtime and she loves every second of it, panting, and begging under your touch. What you didn't plan on is how insatiable she is, or how bratty. It starts with her groping you under the table during breakfast, rubbing you through your pants and making you sweat. What if her mother saw? She knows about your relationship with her eldest daughter, but she doesn't want to see it. Then Bela leaves you and you have to find a way to work with a semi hard erection until it passes. As soon as it does she's on you again, pushing you against the nearest wall, pressing her whole body into you. Her nails on your neck as she kisses you and leaves her lipstick staining the collar of your shirt. She won't get away that easily. 

You take you by her hips and pull her into a nearby room, it's storage with a few miscellaneous chairs, a table, and some furniture covered in sheets. This'll do. She giggles softly as you hold her tightly, innocently looking at you. 

"What's the matter? Something bothering you?" She asks innocently. 

"Nothing my love, I just need to relieve some pent up energy. You wouldn't mind would you?" You say coyly. 

"Hmmm what if I say yes I do mind?"

"Then I guess I'll have to find someone else."

Bela growls loudly and pulls you by the neck to her lips, kissing you possessively. She knows you wouldn't dare stray, but the threat still riles her up as you lock your arms around her waist and pull her into you. As much as you would love to stand there and make out with her, you have chores to get done, and a deadline. You break the kiss and as you pull away she bites on your lower lip gently pulling it until she releases. She knows every trick to turning you on. Her hand finds it way between your legs, rubbing your crotch firmly as she uses her fingers to feel you through the fabric. 

"Mm someone's excited."

"Yes, and you're going to fix it."

You release her waist and push her down by the shoulders, she knows she could easily swarm away but she loves the way you push and pull her around. The motion makes her nipples hard through her dress as she bites her lip looking up. You undo your buckle and pull down your pants and underwear enough for your semi hard cock to spring free, she starts to purr lowly as her eyes drift back down to it. Yet she doesn't open her mouth, instead she keeps her bottom lip between her teeth so you grab her by the jaw and squeeze until she gasps, opening her mouth for you to slide on in. She wraps her plump lips around your cock, looking up at you as her teeth gently grind down onto the skin, a threatening message that she could easily bite down if she wished. She won't, you know she won't, and she knows she won't, but she still loves the tension that forms in your body every time. You release her jaw and lean back using your hands for support as she adjusts herself on her knees.

She takes your cock down her throat, sucking it as it hardens in her mouth and she releases up to the tip, licking your slit which sends shivers over your legs. Bela bobs her head and rests her hands on her thighs, letting her mouth fully consume you and do all the hard work. You tilt your head back and groan softly, loving the way her tongue adds pressure. She loves feeling your veins pop, how your cock pulsates and warms her mouth from the rushing blood. Drool forms in the corner of her mouth and dribbles down her chin as she deep throats you, gagging slightly which makes you grunt. Then her bratty attitude comes out again. She released her cock and starts licking it chastely, licking from the base to the tip and teasingly kissing your throbbing tip. You look down at her and lean forward, grabbing her hair forcibly and shoving your cock back into her mouth. 

She gags from the intrusion but relaxes her mouth and her throat as you begin thrusting your hips. Your cock reaches down her throat, making her choker impossibly tighter as a bulge in her throat forms where your cock is. She moans and supports herself on your thighs, as you continue to fuck her throat she obediently kneels there and takes it. You groan loudly as your cock pulsates and you shove it in one last time, cumming hard as she swallows every last bit. When you pull out saliva dribbles from her mouth and a string connects her mouth with the tip of you cock, which she licks the last remnants of cum off. You pull her up by her hair and release it, grabbing her waist once more and spinning her around, pushing her over onto a nearby covered table. You pull her dress up and find her soaking panties awaiting you, impatiently you pull them down to her knees letting her dripping cunt shiver from the cold air. 

With a firm slap against her ass cheek she moans and jerks forward, you bring down your hand a few more times until her ass is bright red. Bela shakes her hips, her swollen cunt begging for you as it glistens with her slick. You line yourself up and thrust in easily, she moans hotly and rests her forehead against the table but you quickly grab her hair again and pull back. She squeals excitedly and arches her back up as you firmly hold her hair  then begin thrusting. You thrust inside her deeply and hard, your hips slapping against her ass and adding to the redness. With every lewd smack of your hips Bela lets out a broken moan, gasping in between. Your cock reaches inside her deeply, hitting her gspot every time and she loves the way her walls stretch around you. You are relentless, picking up speed but continuing your hard thrusts. You're addicted to being inside her, she feels so good wrapped around your cock, and the way her body gives into you as if she was born for it. 

Bela's walls start tightening around you, her legs tense up and she barely can get out a coherent word before she gasps loudly. One of her hands shoots back to you, grabbing onto your shirt as her entire body pulsates and shivers. The clenching of her walls around you sends you over the edge as you thrust in one last time to cum inside her. You let go of her hair and support yourself by grabbing her hips, your legs shaking as you pump a few times to make sure every last drop makes it. Bela gasps and slowly relaxes, her muscles disengaging as she quivers from the lingering sensations. As you pull out she lets out another moan, and you bring her underwear up from her knees and put it back on her before giving her ass another light tap.

Master Post

[notyourqueerasfolk]

CHAPTER 4 "COLD"

Inspired by one and only — Theirry Mugler — Eighth's (OC’s) dress at Onyx:

The illegal things I'd do for this woman...

I'm a firm believer — Alcina is a family oriented person.

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Her Special Maid

Chapter 1

Request:No

Warning: Kidnapping, the girls wanna kill you at first, nothing else tbh

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu, Villager!Y/N

A/N: This has been giving me a little trouble but I believe it’s ready! I hope you all enjoy and I apologise for the weird cut off 😅

Directory: Prologue, Chapter 1 (You are here)

The warmth seeps through your clothes and into your bones on long the chill of mid winter right out of your body, the houses in the village are never able to be this warm no matter how high the fires roar.

“Who is this?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“You’re pretty~”

Three disembodied voices echo out in the large foyer and as you look around you see nothing and no one. That is, until a mass of flies tumble down the stairs and splits into three smaller masses, and surround you in a swirl of buzzing insects.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s pretty, she's uninvited.”

“What does she have in her hands?”

“Give it here!”

Your arms are tightly wrapped around the box, eyes wide in fear and confusion at how a mass of flies is talking at all. The feeling of hands prodding at your body and pulling at your shoddy cloak makes you flinch and step back,a sharp push lands you on your bottom but you have no time to react as you are pulled by your cloak. You slide across the floor being slammed into walls and tables, the only thing you can do to minimize the bruising is to curl up and wait for the world to stop moving. Finally, you come to a halt in an even warmer room, in the centre is a large chair by a wooden table and a fireplace, one that rages so large you think if it was in the bakery it would burn the building down. In the chair, sits a woman with pale skin, dark curled hair, a large wide brimmed hat, and a slightly off-white dress. She doesn’t strike you as odd until you realise how tall she is not only in comparison to the girls that this mass of flies had turned into, but to yourself.

“Mother, I bring you a trespasser.”

“We caught her snooping around in the foyer,”

“She’s a thief Mother! Look what she has in her arms!”

From the point on the floor, you can see a cloud of smoke puff into the air in front of the woman before dispersing. She sets down something on the table before speaking in an elegant voice.

“Very well done daughters,” She says as she stands, her tall form easily towering over you and her daughters. As her golden eyes land on your form they widen and her scarlet lips pull into a smile.

“Oh? Let her up.”

Doing as they are told, the hold on your arms is let down and you quickly sit up straight still cradling the box in your arms.

Her glowing eyes capture your attention for a moment rendering you unable to look away from their intense gaze. When you come to your senses, you quickly bow your head, heart pounding in your chest at the realisation of who exactly you were just staring into the eyes of. This is one of the four lords appointed by Mother Miranda,your mother told you this is where she lived but the reality of the situation you are in catches up with you like a slap to the face. You entered the home of a Lord uninvited, in possession of something that belongs to said Lord and then had the audacity to stare into her eyes and gaze upon her form. Your heart beats ever quicker in your chest as your breathing becomes ragged, the feeling of the silver pegs of the box as they dig into your chest anchors you. If you weren’t holding the box so close to you, your hands and arms would be shaking with nerves. The sound of her authoritative voice snaps you out of the stupor of fear you were in.

“Stand up girl,”

Doing as you were commanded, you use one arm to lift yourself up onto shaking legs and properly bow your head to her, eyes fixated on the tips of your boots which peek out from under your dress.

“Look at me when I am speaking to you.”

With a small amount of fear you slowly look up to her, golden eyes locking with yours as she speaks. The air of her authority, her power of overwhelming and enchanting all at once as she looks down at you.

“Who are you, and why have you entered my home uninvited?” She questions you, taking a sip of wine from her glass.

“I-I’m the baker's daughter from the village, I found this box and The Duke s-said it belonged to you.” You hold out the box as you speak, hands shaking slightly as you hold it up to her taller figure.

Her eyes leave yours for a split second as she takes the box. She has been looking for it for a week, assuming her brother stole it to get back at her for something she said to the incompetent fool.|| As her gaze drifts form your own, you find that you can breath a little easier, your chest rising and falling as you attempt to slow your rapid heart rate.

“Where did you find this?”

“In the snow, on the way b-back from the mill. I-I only found it today on my walk, it must’ve been buried in the snow.” You respond, stumbling over your words every now and then as the three girls around you gaze at your form with a predatory gaze. They remind you of hungry wolves stalking their prey from a dim treeline.

“And you thought to bring it here, knowing who lives here?”

You can only manage to nod your head, her tone almost condescending as she questions you. What else could you say? You knew that it was dangerous to come here of all places, even if it did belong to her. You then entered uninvited only because the door opened, and for all she knows you could have stolen it some how. The look on her face as she looks down to you again says it all: Are you brave or just foolish?

“What will you do with her mother?” The girl with brunette hair asks, walking forward a little.

“Let us hunt her, she will make a fine addition to my canvas!” The blonde spins her sickle in her palm, the blade smeared and layered in the blood of too many to count.

“No! She’s too pretty for that mother, let me keep her!” The last daughter says, her red hair draped over her shoulders a fiery contrast to the brown and crimson staining her cheeks and lips.

They spoke as if you weren’t in the room and you can’t help but shrink back as they fight like starving animals over who would get to do what with you. When you watch closer though, you can’t help but think of how they remind you of your own siblings hungry for your mother and fathers attention whenever they could get it. Despite your situation the scene brings a smile to your face, though it is all but snatched away from you when the woman silences her daughters with a single call, and relays her decision.

“Daughters. This young maiden is a guest in our home and has done me a great favour, we don’t feast on our guests. You are the bakers daughter, yes?”

“Y-yes ma’am,” The words leave your mouth quickly, afraid that if you keep her waiting to long she might change her mind.

“Girls, clean yourselves up. We will be keepin her as a guest for this evening. Do you enjoy tea?”

An amused smile pulls at her lips as she watches your eyes widen and your head tilt ever so slightly to the side in visible confusion. Only moments ago you where about to be killed or worse, and now she is treating you like a revered guest of honour. You watch as she sets the box down on a tall dresser next to another one similar, but clearly newer made.

“Tea?” All you can do is echo the last word of the question, the disbelief not quite shaken from you yet.

“Yes, or perhaps you would prefer coffee?”

“N-no ma’am, tea is perfectly fine, thank you.”

Now that you have shaken out of your stupor you answer her quickly, you’d never been fond of coffee. You liked the smell but drinking it makes you anxious and tired all at the same time, you’re father and eldest sister seemed to be addicted to it. She walks past your still shaking form and opens a door bending down under it’s frame to exit.

“Come.” It’s a single command that has you tripping over your feet to follow behind the larger woman. You are lwad down a series of hallways before you enter a decent sized room with a hearty fire in the fire place, two couches facing eachother, a table in the centre, a piano off to the side and several other furnishings throughout the room. She gestures to a seat across from where she seems to be heading and she pulls on a little string.

As you sit down, you realise that once again you are in the presence of the Lady Dimistrecu, in her home where young ladies are said to be taken and never seen again. You feel her gaze land heavy on your body once more and can’t help how your cheeks begin to flush under such an intense gaze. It’s as if she is sizing you up in some manner, those golden iris’ mapping out your every detail. Suddenly you are very aware of how messy you must look, you had come in from the winter cold and been dragged around before seeing someone of such high power. Your cloak is covered in dirt and flour from using it as an apron back at the bakery. Your face has bits of flour and the white powder somehow landed in your hair, the messy bun nearly falling out now after having been slung into walls and drug across stairs and halls. Summoning what little courage you have left after the series of events, you speak up.

“Ma’am, may I be excused to the lavatory?”

“You may, I will have Daniella take you,” The moment she says this, the girl with the red hair appears and eagerly takes your hand pulling you out of the room.

“What’s it like being the bakers daughter? Have you met any cute manthings in the village? What are Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans like when hunting?”

The entire walk to the restroom she asks you question after question like an eager child. She must be the youngest of the three, the way she was acts reminds you of your own little sister who has been at school for the winter, most of it anyway. Tomorrow she is going to come back for a short break, when the blizzards are to happen and snow people in. Your brother will be starting next year, he is sure to be a menace if he isn;t interested in what they are teaching him. Ever since he was 4 you’d been homeschooling him and teaching him how to speak and use his manners. Because of you he is one of the msartes children of his age in the village, not that there is much competition between 4 year olds to begin with.

“Here you are! Don’t take too long or mother might send Cass to get you!” Daniella’s cheery voice snaps you out of your thoughts as she stops infront of a door.

“Ah, thank you…I will do my best not to take too long.” You enter the bathroom and stand infront of the mirror and begin to right your appearance. You start with taking off your cloak, you lay it across the sink and beat off the flour and sugar the best you can making it look a little more presentable. After doing the same to your pants and your shirt, you use a small bit toilet tissue to wipe the flour off of your face before wetting your hands and slicking your messay hair back into a neat tight bun. The ribbon you use is worn and has seen better days, but is all you have for the moment and so you will need to make due with what you have. Giving yourself a once over in the mirror you crack a small smile, it’s not easy cleaning up the look of a baker with just water and some cloth but you did well. You wrap your cloak around you waist before finally turning to leave. As you walk out the door you nearly collide with the brunette from earlier, quickly you bow your head in apology only to be met with a single question.

“Why do you smell like honey cakes?

End Note: This was a little on the back burner because I’ve been planning other writing but I hope you all enjoy!

Total Words Count: 2,255

[duvernost]

just a little nibble….. @donnasmeatballs

[thegoodending-thelasttime]

average dimitrescu fic vs hallmark movies

are we really no better...

[ghost-n-butteredtoast]

Dimitrescu Books

Chapter 49 - D_ath & S_x

18+ Content - NSFW

“Behave, or I swear–” Taking your chin in her hands and guiding your line of sight to a small box on the shelves. “I’ll wind you up so tight, just like that little music box there.” She let those words hang in the air, chuckling to herself. “And then, just as you're about to sing, I'll close the lid and put you back on the shelf, never to finish your sweet little melody.”

She was so deliciously cruel in this moment, you would have smiled if you could. But who were you kidding? You were already wound up tight. One more crank and there would be no euphoric tune, only the sound of you breaking.

[coffeepuppie]

Ya'll goofy mfs piss me off. Cause how are you gonna sit here and say that just because something is fiction that ethics and morals and values don't fucking matter? The reason that it's problematic is because you're enjoying consuming that media that in real life would be harmful to other people. That is why it's problematic because you are enjoying something that inherently is harmful and unethical. The argument that these characters do other crimes that are bad. It doesn't matter. It is so unbelievably disrespectful to the creators of any media to take their work and make the characters in a way that is NOT just ooc. It's you making a character who is like a morally grayer, arguably bad person and then making them commit atrocities that genuinely are some of the worst things someone can do to another person. That's what I don't understand about you guys. You need to hop off the internet and go talk to people in the real world. Because if you said that shit to a person Irl you'd get your shit rocked, you'd get Swiss cheesed. That's what's wrong with y'all. Y'all ain't had conversations with real people in a minute. Get off the damn phone. I don't wanna see no r@pe/noncon, no incest, no underage shit and yall defend it cause you're weird. They need to check y'alls hard drives istg. If you all disagree with this, please block me cause we are not for each other, Bro. I will never understand you.

A hit dog gon holler 🤭

Stay mad and blocked✌️

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 1

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, blood, aftermath depiction of violence

You woke up every morning to the faint glow of dawn filtering in through the small, frost-covered window of your cramped living space. The air was cool and still, carrying with it the subtle scent of weathered stone and aged wood. It was a far cry from the comfort of your former life, but you have long since resigned yourself to the harsh realities of servitude since you began living in Castle Dimitrescu three months ago.

With a weary sigh, you pushed yourself upright. The blanket slid away to reveal the simple cot that served as your bed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and planted both feet onto the cold, unforgiving surface of the wooden floor. It made goosebumps travel across your arms.

Ignoring the slight chill in your bedroom for now, you walked over to a small dresser, and with a gentle tug, you pulled open the drawer, revealing an array of neatly folded uniforms within. You sift through the selection, your fingers grazing over soft cotton blouses, tailored trousers, and dresses. After thoughtful consideration, you settled on a plain white blouse paired with sleek black trousers.

Once dressed, you made your way over to where a small basin sat atop a stand, tucked away into the corner of your bedroom. Cupping your hands, you scooped up the frigid liquid and splashed it onto your face. As the droplets cascaded down your cheeks, you reached for a hand towel hanging nearby and patted your face dry. You turned your attention to your hair next and picked up an old hairbrush resting on the stand. As you ran it through your strands, you felt the satisfying tug of knots being smoothed out.

After combing your hair, you placed the hairbrush back down with a soft clink and grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste tucked next to the basin. You applied a pea-sized amount of toothpaste onto the bristles and began to brush your teeth. Once two minutes have passed, you rinsed your mouth and toothbrush and placed it back on the stand. With a sense of cleanliness and readiness, you leave your bedroom, prepared to face the day ahead.

You walked down the hallway, the quiet tap of your shoes thumping lightly against the carpeted floors. The walls, painted a pristine white, were lined with gold accents that shimmered under the candles’ soft lighting. Alongside the decor, various paintings adorned the walls, depicting scenes of women dancing in sunlit fields or portraits of people.

The interior of the castle was beautiful, you could admit that, but beneath it all lurked the unsettling reality of torture and death. Behind closed doors, unseen horrors unfolded. All the maids lived in constant fear, their every move scrutinized, and their slightest mistake met with brutal punishment. The halls were haunted with their pained screams and whispered pleas for mercy.

The price of disobedience and the consequences of crossing the line drawn by Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters was one you wanted to avoid at all costs.

Eventually, you reached the supply room door and turned the handle. The hinges protested with a soft, familiar creak as you swung the door open. Inside, shelves were neatly stacked with cleaning supplies. Just as your hand reached out to grab the items you needed, you heard a familiar voice behind you say your name.

You turned around and a rush of warmth flooded through you as you realized it was Catalina. Since your arrival three months ago, Catalina had become your closest friend, an anchor, guiding your life through the horrors of this castle.

“Good morning.” Catalina greeted you with a warm smile, her chestnut brown hair cascading in gentle waves around her shoulders.

“Hey, good morning.” You replied, returning her smile.

“Are you ready for another grueling day?” She joked lightly, though her voice was tinged with exhaustion.

“Yeah,” you forced to maintain your smile despite the unease that gnawed at your insides. “But we’ll get through it like we always do.” You added, summoning a bit of reassurance for both you and Catalina.

The corners of her mouth downturned, forming a subtle frown as she spoke. “I wish I had your optimism right now. I have to help Maria clean up Miss Daniela’s bedroom,” she continued, her tone heavy with a sense of foreboding. “I dread what I’ll find in there.”

You grimaced in response.

Daniela was the youngest of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters. She was known for her volatile and unpredictable nature. Her actions often left everyone on edge. At any given moment, Daniela's demeanor could shift like the wind, turning from saccharine to savage in the blink of an eye. It was best to avoid her completely when it came to the Lady’s three daughters.

“Well, I hope it’s nothing too bad.” You murmured.

“Me too,” Catalina said with a soft smile. “But I’ll see you later at lunch, okay?”

“Definitely. See you then.”

As Catalina left the supply room, you grabbed a bucket already filled with soapy water, a mop, and a couple of washcloths. With your supplies in hand, you made your way over to one of the hallways assigned to you. Upon reaching your destination, you carefully set your supplies down. The mop leaned against the wall while the bucket of cleaning solution sat nearby.

Taking a moment to survey the large window, you noted the thin layer of dust and grime obscuring the view beyond. Determined to restore its clarity, you dipped one of the washcloths into the water and wrung out the excess liquid soaking the fabric.

Positioning yourself at the first window, you finally got to work.

***

As you finished wiping down the last window, the midday sun shone high above the mountains, letting you know that it was nearing noon. Satisfied with your work, you gathered your cleaning supplies and began to make your way back to the supply room.

However, as you walked along, the silence of the castle was shattered by the sudden, blood-curdling scream of a woman. The chilling sound was quickly followed by a sickening gurgle. Dread washed over you like a wave as the implications of what you had just heard sank in. Without hesitation, you quickened your pace, clutching your supplies in a death grip as you hurried away from the source of the horrifying noise.

“You there, stop!”

A menacing voice cut through the air, and you halted in place. Every muscle in your body tensed as you recognized the commanding tone of Cassandra, the middle child of Lady Dimitrescu. Encountering Cassandra was an ordeal in and of itself. Though not as overtly unhinged as her youngest sibling Daniela, Cassandra's brand of cruelty was more insidious. Her actions were calculated, designed to inflict maximum suffering upon those unfortunate enough to cross her path. She was known to be the most sadistic among her sisters.

With a knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach, you slowly turned to face her, meeting her piercing gaze with trepidation. However, your attention was soon drawn elsewhere as you noticed something deeply disturbing: blood dripped from the edge of her sickle, staining the floor in dark, ominous droplets.

“Come here.” Cassandra drawled out, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. Her lips curved into a sly grin as she extended her index finger, beckoning you over.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to comply, your footsteps hesitant as you approached her. Her grin widened, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes as you stepped closer, feeling the weight of her gaze upon you.

“Clean this mess up.” She said lowly as she inclined her head toward Lady Dimitrescu’s study room.

“Yes, Miss Cassandra.” You whispered obediently.

As you cautiously stepped past the door frame, a scene of horror greeted you. There, sprawled in the center of the room, lay the lifeless body of a maid. Her throat was gruesomely slashed, the wound jagged and brutal. A pool of blood spread like a sinister halo around her head, seeping into the cracks of the floorboards.

For a moment, you stood frozen in shock.

Time seemed to stand still as you struggled to comprehend the brutality of what lay before you. Your eyes were fixated on the lifeless form, unable to tear your gaze away. You had never encountered a dead body before. The sight was jarring, shocking you to your core.

You had seen the aftermath of violence before, heard the distant screams, and seen leftover blood etched into the fibers of the carpets, but never have you come face to face with death itself. This was different.

This was raw and real.

Your eyes briefly caught sight of a large key adorned with the Dimitrescu family crest, resting delicately next to her hand. Before you could ponder its significance, Cassandra's voice, smooth as silk but laced with an unsettling edge, whispered close to your left ear.

“Don't mind her,” she purred, her breath brushing against your earlobe like a cold breeze. “She had it coming.”

Startled, you gasped and instinctively stepped forward, desperate to get away from her.

Cassandra chuckled and stepped around you without a single care in the world. She bent over and retrieved the key, slipping it into the pocket of her dress. Then, in a chilling display of strength, she seized the young woman by the collar of her blouse, her grip unyielding as she dragged the limp body along with ease. And then, as if forgetting something, she paused, turning slowly to fix you with an unnerving gaze.

“Consider this a lesson. This is what happens to those who attempt to escape.” She remarked, her tone almost causal, as if discussing the weather. Her eyes then drifted toward the trail of blood that stained the floor. For a moment, her eyes lingered on the crimson mess before meeting your own again, a smirk playing on her lips. “You may want to hurry and clean this up before Mother makes an appearance.”

The implication of her statement hung heavy in the air.

“Yes, Miss Cassandra.”

As Cassandra finally departed the room, a surge of anguish threatened to engulf you, but you suppressed it. With trembling hands and a heart heavy with dread, you forced yourself to maintain composure, though every instinct screamed at you to turn and run.

There was no time to waste as you got started on cleaning the blood up.

Time seemed to warp and twist, stretching into an eternity as you meticulously cleaned every speck of blood off the floor. With each swipe of the mop, your hands shook uncontrollably, the memory of what had transpired haunting your every move. Every corner you scrubbed, every stain you erased, felt like an attempt to cleanse not just the physical space, but the sorrow that threatened to consume you from within.

Just as you thought you couldn't bear another moment of the suffocating silence, you heard it. The unmistakable sound of heavy high heels clicking through the hallway. Your heart almost leaped into your throat, but instead, pounded against your ribs like a caged animal desperate for escape.

The click-clack of her high heels came to a sudden stop.

A tense stillness settled in the air, thick and palpable, as you sensed her presence looming by the doorway. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled and stood on end, a primal instinct warning you of the danger that stood before you. But your eyes remained fixed on the floor, as if it held the key to your salvation.

And then, finally, she spoke, her voice like velvet. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

You found yourself momentarily stunned. You didn't know how to respond. Your mind raced, searching for the right words, but they never came. You had never spoken to her before, until today. So, you settled for her title instead.

“My Lady.” You managed to utter softly.

But there was only silence in response.

You shifted uneasily, unsure of what to do next. Was she waiting for something? Did you do something wrong?

With a hesitant glance upward, you found yourself locking eyes with Lady Dimitrescu.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you held her gaze, a sense of unease creeping over you like ivy winding its way around your limbs. There was something in the way she looked at you – a hunger, a thirst for something you couldn't quite name – that made your insides curl.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment passed, and she offered you a knowing smirk – a flash of pearly white teeth that sent a chill down your spine.

Your pulse quickened as you watched Lady Dimitrescu walk past you, her tall figure casting a long shadow across the floor. But then she stopped, the sudden cessation of movement sending a jolt of fear through you. You could feel her presence hovering somewhere behind you, a suffocating weight that seemed to press down on your very soul.

“You missed a spot.” Lady Dimitrescu said but it sounded almost playful.

“I-I’m sorry, my Lady,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get that cleaned up right away.”

Your heart hammered in your chest like a relentless drumbeat as you scrambled over to her. Kneeling beside her, your eyes caught a small spot of blood that you had missed, a tiny droplet that clung stubbornly to the floor. How was she even able to see that?

You pulled a handkerchief from your pocket, fingers fumbling slightly in their haste. With gentle precision, you began to clean the area, your movements slow and deliberate.

Finally, when the task was done, you gazed up at her, seeking some sign of reassurance. But what met your gaze was unnerving – a smile that sent shivers down your spine. It wasn't the smile of satisfaction you had expected. No, it was something far more sinister. Her lips curled upward, revealing a glimpse of something altogether different – a flash of fangs.

“You may go.” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice carrying an eerie calmness.

“Thank you, my Lady.”

With a deep, respectful curtsy, you dared not linger any longer than necessary. As you hastily gathered your belongings, you could feel her eyes boring into the back of your head as you left her study.

You navigated the many hallways once more, each twist and turn blurring together seamlessly. Desperation clawed at you, urging you to put as much distance as possible between yourself and Lady Dimitrescu.

As you rounded another corner, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, both physically and mentally. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you breathed deeply, letting the tension melt away. But even as you tried to calm your racing heart, your mind couldn't shake the image of the way Lady Dimitrescu stared at you.

There was something off about it, something you couldn't quite put into words.

You hope you never find out.

***

The morning sun casts a soft golden glow through your window, signaling the start of a new day.

With a languid motion, you stretched your limbs and pushed the covers aside, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Rubbing your eyes, you let out a soft yawn and glance around the room, the familiar surroundings gradually coming into focus. Yet, something seemed out of place.

Your gaze drifted to the door of your bedroom. You frowned as you saw a small, folded piece of paper lying on the floor, just beneath the edge of the door.

Intrigued, you rose off the bed and padded your way across the room toward the note. You bent down and picked it up. Unfolding the paper, you found yourself staring at what appeared to be elegant handwriting scrawled across the page.

My dearest pet,

It has come to my attention that your talents are wasted on menial tasks. Therefore, it is with great pleasure, and without room for negotiation, that I hereby command you to assume the role of my personal servant from this day forth.

You shall attend to my every whim and desire with the utmost devotion. You will be at my beck and call, ready to serve me without question or hesitation.

You are expected to begin your shift at 9 A.M. in my bedchambers. Do not be late.

Yours faithfully,

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu

Blood froze in your veins.

As you read those words, an icy grip tightened around your heart.

Pet.

Being labeled as Lady Dimitrescu's “pet” made your stomach churn. At that moment, the room seemed to close in around you, suffocating you with its hold. You released the note from your trembling fingers, watching it flutter back to the floor.

None of this made any sense.

Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t known for keeping pets. The very idea seemed absurd, yet she called you one.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, she also wanted you to be her personal servant. That fact alone was terrifying. You were already forced to work in this castle but the prospect of serving directly under her? That was a whole other matter.

You stole a glance at an old clock perched on your dresser. It was 8 A.M. You knew you had little time left before you were expected to be in her bedchambers, ready to fulfill whatever tasks she demanded of you.

Many thoughts flittered around in your mind, swirling like leaves. Among them, one stuck out the most. The desire to escape burned within you like a flame refusing to be extinguished.

No.

The idea was foolish. It would surely get you killed. You have already seen what Cassandra did to that maid yesterday.

But what if you took your time to plot your escape?

Escaping the castle would not be easy. It would require cunning, stealth, and a plan so foolproof that even the Dimitrescu family would be caught off guard.

Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against you, you have to try. You refuse to live the rest of your life as some noblewoman’s pet.

Turning on your heel, you got dressed and left your bedroom. With each step, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as though a pair of unseen eyes followed your every move. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of someone lurking in the shadows, but the hallway remained empty. You quickened your pace until the sound of your name pierced through the stillness of the hallway.

Startled, you pivoted to find Catalina standing there. Her smile, usually bright and welcoming, faltered as she took in your demeanor. Concern etched across her features as she walked over to you, her hands settling gently on your shoulders. Her touch offered both comfort and support.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Her voice carried genuine worry. “I didn’t see you at lunch or dinner yesterday.”

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling dry and constricted.

“No, everything is not okay.” You managed to rasp out.

“What’s wrong?” Catalina's expression softened with empathy.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of Lady Dimitrescu’s words pressing down on you. But you needed to confide in someone, and she was the only person you trusted enough to share that information with.

“I received a note this morning from Lady Dimitrescu. She said that I’m to be her personal servant starting today.”

Catalina's reaction was immediate. A light gasp left her lips, and her hands, which had been resting reassuringly on your shoulders, fell away. The color drained from her face, leaving her complexion pallid as her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“I don’t know what to do.” Your voice quivered, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. “I’m scared.”

Catalina's brow furrowed as she sought to understand the situation.

“Why did she ask you to be her personal servant?” she asked, her tone gentle yet probing. “The grand chambermaid usually attends to the Lady’s needs.”

You reached up, delicately brushing away the tears that gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I’m not sure. She just said that my talents were wasted on menial tasks.”

There was a long pause as she absorbed your words.

“This is very unusual.” Catalina murmured; her voice laced with unease.

A queasy sensation crept up from the pit of your stomach, coiling like a serpent as you hesitated to tell Catalina how Lady Dimitrescu addressed you in her note as well. You were reluctant to say it out loud.

Pet.

You were no longer a person, but a possession.

[reddogf13]

A little goofy self reference to my fic in work “Witch of Beldez”.

Bela has formed an obsession with the witch, Donna. Despite her mothers many extreme warnings that witches are horribly dangerous. even fleeing the castle and country after learning that a witch smote a whole city not far. Unaware it was Donna, and after finally returning after century’s and assuming all witches were dead. Her daughter unknowingly picks that very same witch to hunt and eventually harass into friendship. Assuming that Donna is hardly the horrifying witch her mother says.

[numbyday]

REPOSTING Because maybe this drawing will make more sense now that I've posted my first ever fanfic, Birds of a Feather . HEHEHEHHEHE. (shall I make one for the sisters?)

So yes technically, this is the reader envisioned in the fic, speaking of.. might post a new chap later (if anyone is still reading, that is)

(NSFW, TW: BLOOD, INJURIES, SCARY TALL MOMMIES)

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 49: In Which Devil's Come Out To Play Pt. 2

You can read this here also: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/159231340

You'd lost track of the cigarettes Alcina had burned through since the meeting began.

To be fair you'd not even glanced at the clock on the wall since the meeting began.

It had been a whirlwind. Constant interruptions and detours. Flinging, grabbing and shuffling of papers, documents, and items - and with so many people talking over one another trying to keep up with one conversation to the next rendered you to simply sit in your seat, listen to what you could, and speak when you were spoken to. The heated exchanges would come and go; accusations, insinuations, insult exchange, jabs and plenty of unanswered questions that just continue to feed the flame of bickering.

You weren't entirely sure any of these vampires really wanted answers at all. They seemed so occupied in stirring the proverbial pot and tossing hypothesis after hypothesis that they weren't even looking at the evidence in front of their faces.

Mother Miranda had clearly done all the things Alcina and everyone else in the Shadowed Dominion's realm had said - why the fuck was there all this finger pointing and back and forth nonsense?

"I still blame whatever this perverted scheme of Mother Miranda's need to create the 'perfect vampire' on you, Alcina," Marguerite added into the cacophony of noise, "all this fall-apart started with that little human lover of yours; so many more regulations to be a vampire got thrown into place - then you were made a matriarch - Mother's long disappearances following afterwards - there hadn't been such an upset in the underworld until you - "

"Miranda's psychotic little episode that created this had nothing to do with Alcina," you butted it immediately, feeling Alcina's fire light once again at your side, "yes, she believed Alcina was her first real stepping stone to her perfect line of vampire, but that didn't go according to her plans - why do you think she became progressively obsessed with those vampire initiation tests? But this was all set into motion a long time ago, even before she murdered her own child for it."

For the first time in five hours there was a loud resounding silence that filled the room.

Every pair of eyes set on you.

No pressure.

"Excuse me?" Marguerite asked sharply, "and what exactly would you know abo -"

"Would you kindly shut your mouth for five minutes," Verona huffed as she leaned into the table, her fierce eyes shooting the woman's ego in the foot, "let her speak!" The gilded woman softened her face as she looked at you, nodding encouragingly, "please, you know something about Eva?"

You nodded in return and took a deep steadying breath looking around at everyone, "yes... Miranda told me she and Eva had great plans to become the strongest breed of vampire alive so that they could live amongst humans again. They wanted to overrun the human world, take control over it, and to be loved and worshipped like gods. But Eva fell in love with a human boy. Miranda was livid her daughter was more occupied with her feelings for him and no longer their plans, so she killed her."

More silence.

"When did she tell you this?" Verona inquired, heavily intrigued.

"While I was tied to a chair during her attempted takeover."

Another pause, until Verona took a very noticeable breath.

"You must understand, Eva's death has been at the silent speculation of most of our eldest kind for centuries... No one has ever known the truth. This reveal is shocking."

"Exceptionally," Belinda added, "Mother Miranda's greatest obsession was the love she held for her daughter. For her to kill her, it does not seem right."

Verona nodded, "no, perhaps not, but if this is what she told you - "

"Mon dieu," Marguerite cut in, "s'il vous plait, do you really expect us to believe she would reveal such a thing to you in this circumstance?"

"With whatever respect is due," you retorted without missing a beat, "yes, because she did."

Alcina, who was taking another very long drag off her cabriole, had leaned back in her chair to beckon Donna's attention at the back of the room, something was exchanged, and she then threw something into the middle of the table with a loud slapping thud.

"There." She stated with a large puff of smoke, pointing at a thick and very worn book in the center of the table, "in Miranda's own handwriting. A journal, one of many, stating everything you were just told and much more about her plans. Don't ever question the integrity of my companions word."

"Yeah, don't go getting your butthole all hurt because Miranda told her and not you." Karl interjected with a puff of his cigar that was hanging from his teeth.

Alcina almost choked on her own cigarette smoke. 

Karl snickered, "remember, she underestimated our fae-bae here and ended up dead and shit." His grin was aglow with pride. 

Pablo, not hiding his amusement was also smiling from ear to ear. And then with manicured eyebrows raised high to his hairline, reached for the article and plucked it from its spot, "and why wasn't this lovely bit of reading on the table to begin with?" He asked with a glittering smile.

Alcina's visage turned sharp, "because I knew the runaround of this circus would last several hours before anything productive would come of it. Now. Are we all finally ready to put the display of shit slinging aside and get to it, or will this fuckery continue for another five and a half hours?"

You supposed that once Alcina had pointed it out, the vampires decided they were indeed ready to put their feral egos in cages and move forward.

The next several hours were impressively and surprisingly productive. Retellings of what had taken place were told uninterrupted, evidence was looked over, conversation was coherent and almost wholly respectful. Though you did notice after the initial dust had settled, the only person who was more quiet than you was Auguste Winter. You don't think he said one thing through the entire gathering, nor did anyone seem to notice. Whether this was in character for him or not, it was odd. And no matter what, you still did not like how he looked at Alcina at any given moment.

The conclusion to this night ended with the much anticipated tour through Mother Miranda's hide-out adjacent the city. The visiting vampires were unnerved meeting the famous white-eyed mutated vampires they'd heard so much about. The army still stood in their assigned spots without movement, thought, or real awareness to much of anything. It hurt your heart in a way to see them like this. They were once people. Now, thanks to Miranda, they were shells of what was once a person, and not even granted the option of being a functioning vampire. You couldn't help but to feel compassion about the situation they ultimately had no control over. Your choice to allow the use of your blood to see if the vampire and lycan scientists could bring these mutants back into some semblance of normalcy was now at the forefront of your mind. It was a lofty decision but the push to make that choice was heavier for you now.  

As you were being escorted through the maze of mutants, a pronounced and displeased "hrmph" sounded from Marguerite causing everyone to look in her direction.

"This... is what Miranda deems to be a perfect vampire?" She questioned.

Karl's face was blank for about two-point five seconds before responding, "yeah, they're fuckin' quiet."

She hissed in return, "I don't recall asking for your input."

"Well no one asked for your fucking take on it either sugar-tits, Christ!" He barked right back.

Marguerite scoffed again, "these vampires don't seem like much of any threat at all - look at them - not a thing happening in their skulls."

"Hoo boy, something you and them have in common!" Karl huffed, "and you certainly don't listen for shit as to what we've been saying. Just because you can't wrap your puny mind around what went on down here doesn't discredit the rest of us who actually fought them! I have footage galore of the battle we waged - you can't image the fight they put up - these fuckers kept moving AFTER we blew 'em up! I would have loved to see you take one on at full strength."

"Miranda wanted an army she could control, loyal to her command and her alone," Alcina stepped in, "and that's exactly what she made. Can we please keep going?"

Dmitri nodded when Alcina turned her unamused visage towards him and immediately moved on.

As the entourage of vampires finally made their way back to the city after the tour, Alcina and you brought up the rear; your arm was securely fastened in hers and the walk was quiet for the both of you, the others were engulfed in their conversations masking your presence entirely which made it a comfortable journey. Alcina held you snugly close to her side, stealing a quick kiss atop your head as the final approach to the hall came into view.

You made your way off to the sidelines at the entrance of City Hall and observed in silence as the long-winded exchanges before heading off for the day continued. Ishaan was speaking with Alcina, Dmitri was deeply engrossed with Belinda and Emiliano, Marguerite and Pablo were gossiping you were sure, and you were happy to have your back pressed to the large stone pillar out of the way while everyone mingled.

"When this is all put to rest and you're settled, you must come visit me in Italy."

Came a voice that startled you.

Verona had come up from your left, arms folded comfortably across her middle and a warm smiling face with eyes shimmering and beaming at you.

"O-oh," you stammered as you stood more properly to address the woman, "Ms. Giordano - "

"Please," she said holding up a hand, "stuff that formality - call me Verona."

Returning the much bigger smile you felt your cheeks blush a little, "Verona," you repeated, trying to figure how to respond to her request, "that's very kind of you, but - "

"I won't take no for an answer," she interrupted still smiling, "Donna informs me you're part of the Dimitrescu and Beneviento family now so that means you are also mine. I'm a gracious host and you'll be treated like a queen in my city, my nieces can attest to such treatment as can Alcina. It would be an honor to have you... It's been too many years since they've visited so this will give me the extra leverage I need to get you all there."

Her wink was sweet and genuine and you couldn't help but smile, "well, it would be an honor to be hosted by you. Thank you."     "I believe I heard my name over here," Donna's voice sounded from behind you as she stepped out from shadows, "Verona I do hope you're not telling stories."

"Nonsense. Merely extending a well deserved invitation to my house."

"Now that is a treat I could look forward to." She grinned, squeezing your arm as she joined the two of you.

Verona tilted her head playfully, "your presence is also long overdue in my home, miss Donna."

"Then I suppose it will be a family affair."

"A family affair? Oo, I like those, am I invited also?"

Pablo had slunk himself into the conversation somehow and you all looked over at his toothy grin, his eyes gleaming madly at the three of you.

"You're about the only one outside of my beloved sorellas that has an open invitation, tesoro." Verona sighed with slight exasperation.  

He lit up, wrapped his arms around Verona's waist from behind and kissed her temple, "ahhh mi corazón, gracias hermosa. I've missed running amok in the catacombs of Italy with you. It's been too long. You remember the fun and mischief we used to get up to, si? Puro placer!" (ahhh my heart, thank you beautiful.) (Pure pleasure!)

You watched Verona's eye roll but also the very comfortable display or affection between the two and couldn't help your budding curiosity.

"But ah!" Pablo exclaimed turning his attention to you, "the fun we could all have!"

Verona slapped his arms that were still securely fastened to her waist, "assolutamente no, Alcina ti taglierebbe la testa." (absolutely not, Alcina would have your head.)

Pablo grumbled playfully and pressed his face deep into Verona's throat and kissed it fervently, a giggle sounding from her as he rest his chin upon her shoulder and looked at you once more, "you will come to Espania after Italia, no? If you're in the neighborhood, it would be rude not to visit."

Alcina's attention had been already tampered from Ishaan when she first saw Pablo out of her peripheral approach your group, but it was abruptly broken as she watched him leave Verona's side, claim your hand and bring it to his lips to pepper it with charming kisses, "Ishaan, pardon, but excuse me for a moment."

She didn't bother to wait for a response and with five long strides she was upon the scene in a blink, clearing her throat roughly, "Mister De La Rosa." She uttered pointedly, her eyes squinting slightly as he turned his gaze towards her.

Stiffly straightening his back, he risked one more brisk kiss to the back of your hand, "aiii, corro antes de ser azotada!"  (I must run before I get lashed!)

Pablo sped through that sentence so quickly it was hardly intelligible and skittered off in a flash without ever losing his smile.

"The ever insufferable flirt," Verona chuckled, "relax Alcina, we'd never let him get further."

Alcina reached for your hand now and graciously pulled you to her side.

It took another half hour for everyone to disperse after agreeing to the agenda of tomorrows trial for Ethan and Mia. You could not deny you were starting to get a little tired and Alcina was worn herself, it was almost 10 in the morning by now. She kept her arm securely around you as you trekked back to the manor, and you couldn't help but ask about what you saw between Pablo and Verona. Alcina explained they had been lovers at one point many years ago; Verona had been turned in 1837 at a ripe age of 62, and took on the Italian Matriarchy about 50 years later. Pablo was turned at 33 years of age in 1912. He and Verona met a couple years after; he was smitten on sight and chased her for a while, which she finally submitted to being caught in 1922. He was young and rambunctious and it made Verona feel alive, but he was also kind, charming, wickedly smart and a fast learner. Verona saw his potential and enjoyed having him at her side. They had a fiery love affair for roughly 6 years where he learned under Verona's reign, which in turn got him his spot on the clan throne in Spain after earning his respect with Mother Miranda in a large takeover. Ruling their prospective clans got in the way of their affair but they parted ways on pleasant and comfortable terms. They'd remained deeply caring friends ever since, though Pablo was always hinting about them reuniting.

"I honestly thought he batted for the other team, even though he was flirty." You confessed sheepishly.

Alcina smirked, "he does. He bats for every team. Pablo is a lover of anyone he finds attractive... And I mean anyone."

You glanced up at her and smirked, "did he ever make a pass at you?"

She returned your glance with a twisted grin, "once, and it did not go well for him."

All you could do was laugh, "oh please tell me this story!"

As Alcina was beaming with a radiant smile at your amusement and brief recollection of the events, her eyes caught something off about the entrance to the manor as it was coming into view, "draga, is that one of your birds perched on the gate?"

Turning your attention ahead, you narrowed your eyes. Yes, surely there was a large black object sat atop the towering steel gate.

"That's odd, none of them followed me down that I was aware of."

Your mind began to turn. 

Its large black wings spread and flapped happily upon your arrival and you smiled, studying its features in the dim haze of the day setting of the city lights you deduced who it was.

"Ebony, what on earth are you doing down here?"

You both received a few mellow caws as it shifted its head towards the manor, wordlessly ushering you to proceed. Alcina looked at you, you at her, and quickly made your way inside.

There was a bunch of chatter and laughter coming from the kitchen as you entered, neither of you stopped or said a word as you approached the sounds and to your utter astonishment, and Alcina's well hidden dismay, Malka was at the countertop with the girls gathered around a large basket.

Daniella was the first to notice you both and she hopped off her stool, "oh! Hi! Mother meet Malka!"

There was so much happening in your brain the utter fumbling catastrophe of thoughts about made you black out; you were befuddled Malka was here, curious beyond belief why she was here, and half amused beyond all reason and terrified how Alcina was about to react to this.

Luckily Malka could sense the colliding thoughts and emotions and in her brilliant wisdom and necessity to break the wavering tension, she chuckled.

"I do not mean to intrude, Lady Dimitrescu, and I will not be staying!" She smiled brightly, "I was merely dropping off some food for my ketzeleh she was supposed to get today when she came down... she did not however tell me she decided to make the trip early."

Malka winked at you and you felt pretty sheepish.

Alcina swallowed and straightened her posture in the most collected way imaginable, you could tell she was trying to find words but you figured this shock was plenty after today and you, too, should do a little damage control.

"Oh, Malka I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were getting a food basket together for me, otherwise I would have said something."

"It's alright though!" Daniella added, "she solved our grocery problem for you - that's what Bela and I were trying to do this morning while you were getting ready to leave, but we weren't sure what kinds of foods you liked, so we were lost, but Malka came to the rescue!"

You were smiling now but trying to keep composed, "h-how exactly?"

"Oh, Dani answered your phone when she called." Cassandra stated flatly.

Daniella's face went blank and you could watch the panic unfold in real time.

"W-well it was more of an accident," she began, "you left your phone on the counter, it rang, it scared me, and when I grabbed for it it just kind of answered itself and Malka just started talking so it would have been rude to hang up or not respond so - "

"It was all an honest mistake, but it did pan out in our favor," Bela recovered with a smile of her own, "we're very appreciative of her help and her unintentionally running our errands for us."

You wanted to start laughing but knew this was definitely not the time, so you nodded and went to hug your dear friend, "and you didn't have any trouble getting down here?"

"Mm, no. Dani gave her directions." Cassandra added as nonchalantly as before.

"Yes, the girls were very helpful as was Ebony." Malka hummed, "but as I said, I had not intended to stay as long as I have and I must really be on my way. My grandson has to leave my shop around noon to get to some business. So, my dearest ketzeleh I love you, be safe, text or call me whenever your time permits, and..." she took her gaze off you and turned her attention to Alcina who was remaining professionally composed, "it was a pleasure to have met your darling daughters, and an honor to glance upon the beauty of the Lady of the Underground. I hope we can have some time to really meet and get to know each other soon."

You watched as Malka bowed her head very gently and outstretched her hand for Alcina to shake. 

Brimming with far too many complicated emotions and words to count, Alcina took the old woman's hand and shook it gracefully, swallowing and returning a nod, "yes, yes as do I. Please, allow my daughters to escort you back to the church - "

"Oh, no need for that, I can find my way - "

"Please, Malka, I insist," Alcina said more firmly, though soft in nature, "it would grieve me terribly if something were to happen to you." She waved her hand at her girls and all three of them came promptly to Malka's side, "thank you for making the trip. Your generosity is greatly appreciated."

"You're not the only one who loves this very special girl." She winked, then looked to the girls at her side and held out her elbows, "alright me beauties, lead the way."

Daniella was the first to hook her arm in Malka's and Bela was next, goodbye's were given and the four of them were off.

The door closed to the manor and you waited a whole hell of a lot longer than you expected the silence to last, but you finally peered over to Alcina and cleared your throat.

"Yes?" Alcina replied coolly.

"You handled that really well, I'm proud of you."

She scoffed and before you could make a break for it she grabbed you and held you captive in her arms, "that was both wholly embarrassing and an unneeded shock to my system draga - "

"I'm sorry, I had no - "

"Yes, yes I know, you didn't know and how could either of us ever fathomed... however... I'm embarrassed she might think I'm a poor host not having sustenance for you in my home... It was piss poor planning on my part, but still."

"Piss poor," you repeated with a giggle, "you're starting to talk like me now."

Alcina grinned and kissed you feather light, "mmm, you're rubbing off on me in many ways."

"Even taking a liking to Malka, I see."

She narrowed her eyes, "well... she does seem sweet. She put herself in harms way to bring this to you so I can put my thorns aside for the time being."

"You can just put them away indefinitely, I promise."

"Fine. But please no more surprise visits, mm?"

You nodded.

"Good. Now, would you like to eat? I can prepare something for you."

Her offer was tempting, but you took your bottom lip between your teeth and let your gaze fall down to her figure, "well... honestly... what I would really like is to take you into your room and worship you in this dress. I can't tell you how it's haunted my dreams and fantasies since the moment we met."

Alcina's brows arched and her lips twisted into a coy smirk, "who am I to deny you your desires, draga mea?"

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Her Special Maid

Prologue Chapter~

Request:No

Chapter: Prologue

Warning: An unnecessarily indepth description of how to make bread the medieval way, not much else

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu

A/N:I plan on making this into a series, I’m not to sure how it will go but fuck it, I have it taking place about a full year before anything with Ethan even begins to enter the question though so that’s why there will be little to no mention of him

A/N 2: This is a prologue so bare with it please!

Directory: Prologue (you are here), Chapter 1

You’re life in the village is by no means a hard one, Mother Miranda had blessed the village well and you and your family are devout to her and the four lords she appointed to help sustain the village. As a child, you had often wondered about the large castle that stood strong and resolute beyond the village, even more so about those who lived in it. You had read the tales of princesses and royalty living in buildings like this, however no one would answer you when you asked about it, they would just steer you away from it with weary looks cast towards the grandiose building.

As you grew older, you grew bolder and wandered closer to it, as if testing the castle to tell what secrets it held that kept everyone so on edge. Any time you could, you would sneak away from your duties in the house to venture further and further out, and that was when you met your first Lycan up close and personal. You had fled home unharmed but severely afraid. After that, the castle interested you much less.

It wasn’t until you fell ill with an affliction that no doctor could cure, that you first got a glimpse of what truly took home in the castle. You had been laying in bed running a fever and in and out of a stupor, when the sound of a carriage could be heard passing by. Your mother roused you from bed and forced you to stand beside your father as two carriages passed by. The windows to the carriage were heavily curtained but a pale white hand had reached out from behind them and you swore you saw golden eyes staring right back at you, but your father pressed your head down nearly taking your sick body to the ground.

After this, your curiosity had once again been piqued by the strange castle. If only to keep you from going closer to the castle, your mother told you it was where one of the four lords of the village lived, and that she had a penchant for taking young girls. You assumed this was true for the lost part, the last bit seeming more like something you tell to a child instead of a teen, however you were satisfied with they answer gave. As the years flew and your mother grew weak, you had to focus on taking over the small bakery your family ran. You learned the tricks of the trade out of a large recipe book that had been passed down from generation to generation filled and crammed with different kind of recipes, the alterations made, the exact rations, and everything else anyone aspiring to take of the business would need to know.

One morning,while you are trudging through the snow, you find a small box with a simple lock keeping it closed. Not wanting the snow to damage it or someone else to take it, also being curious yourself as to what is in it, you take it.You continue on your way back to the bakery and set it in your room in a raggedy but clean towel to dry so the wood doesn’t become soggy and damage the inner contents of the box. Now that you’ve set it down it’s clear to you that this is no ordinary jewllery box or otherwise. It’s ornatley decoratated and has a crest you’ve never seen before. Silver pegs at the bottom in each corner of the base stand the box up and pop against the deep dark slightly red of the wood. The wood it;s self is nicely glossed and clearly well cared for, however the dust in places that had not been disturbed by the snow and cloth shows that it’s old. You take a small handkerchief and wipe away the dust before inspecting it further.Silver vines with leaves trail up the lock which is split in two pieces to allow the box to open.Rumaging through a couple of drawers you finally find a old bobby pin your mother used to pin up your hair when you were a child, upon finding you slide it in and jiggle it around finding the right spot until you hear the click. As you open it, the gleam of the candle light reflecting off of what must be a pure silver locket slightly blinds you. It’s heavy in your hand and the locket it’s self is even heavier than the chain. Curiosity gets the better of you once more, and you snap the locket open. Inside is a worn picture of a beautiful woman with perfectly curled black hair, dark lipstick, and a gorgeous white dress, beneath and on either side of her are younger ladies who must be the womans daughters. None of them aside for the girl with the lightly brighter hair had a smile on her face, even then it was barely there. Feeling guilty for taking something with a clear sentimental value, you shut it and replace it in the box as it was, before shutting the box which automatically locks with a click.

You set it in a special drawer of your dresser, and head out tying up your hair to begin baking for the day, after all you were already behind on the bread that needed to be baked and if you didn’t have enough for the day you’de have to make more mid-way through which is no small feat. The day is relatively uneventful as you go about your daily routine, you take the flower you had bought from Mr.Bruner the week before and add water and bear to it along with a little yeast and begin to knead it.After thirty minutes you let it set working on several more large batches before shaping it into loaves of bread. You set out a stone slab over the fire and set several loaves down waiting for them to cook. This process is repeated from the point the sun is peeking up from the horizon, to the time it is placed a quarter of the way in the sky. The smell of fresh if slightly stale bread floods the house as well as the noses of passersby in the village. It isn’t as if you have much competition in such a small village, your family is the only bakery in it after all. With the bread done and baked, your younger brother takes to selling and keeping an eye on the front as you head back into your room to stare at the box. What if you were accused of stealing it from someone in the village? Who do you know would even have money enough to have something like this made? A thought passes your mind and you, for a moment, contemplate it before making the decision to see the merchant everyone had been to, aside from yourself. Running a bakery with a sick mother is stressful enough as it is so you never had time for anything not already planned out.

You have a bit of free time now, and he was on a path you liked to walk when you weren’t so weary of the Castle and haven't had the time to walk until now. You slide on your thicker boots and a cloak before leaving the back door and walking down the dirt path along the tree line. Here, most of the people in the village couldn’t see behind the line of houses and question where you are going. It was better this way, no one in the village has anything even remotely close to this value and the picture would give away that it doesn’t belong to you. A caravan comes into view near the front of the castles at the corner where the two dirt roads meet. As you stop in front of it, the doors swing open and a large man kicks his bare feet out pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Well hello there! I trust you are the baker's daughter, what brings you so close to the castle? Is it me, perchance?” The Duke greets you, though you are easily distracted by the trinkets on either door he had opened as the clink.

“Miss?” He calls out to you again an amused smile on his face as you look at his wares with blatant curiosity and wonder. Hearing this, you snap your eyes up at him and shake yourself out for the distracted daze you were in.

“My apologies, yes I’m here for you. I found this box,” you pause and take the box from its cloth confines, “have you seen anything like it?”

Immediately his interest is piqued and he scoots forward leaning down to gently take it from your hands and inspect it further. His eyes widen and his lips curl into a grin as he sets it back down.

“Oh no, I’ve never seen something like this…but I do know who it belongs to,” When he says this your eyes lift back to him from the box where they once were. He leans back into his seat before rocking forward to peek around the doors of his home, an arm pointing to the castle before the two of you.

“The Lady Dimitrescu, that box most certainly belongs to her.I’ve only seen products from her castle use such ornate silver designs. And the crest, is hers.”

Hearing this, you turn to look at th castle, what you thought was fantastical and large from afar, is imposing and intimidating now as it looms over you. This would be a place wear one of Mother Miranda’s appointed lords would stay. Could you maybe leave it at the doorstep, or give it to him and have it returned to her that way? The thought of entering the large castle had once entertained and excited you but now it fills you with dread. What if she thought you stole it? Your mother had told you that young ladies went missing to the castle many times , and that your best friend was suspected to have been taken there as well.

“Do you plan to give it to her yourself?” The Duke questions, a brow raised, that amused smile never quite leaving his face as he watches you.

“Y-yes, it’s only right it’s returned to her…” Even as you say it, your legs seem to dread the thought of moving closer. The Lord were made to protect the village, surely one wouldn’t harm you…right?

You shake your fear from you, your father had always told you that being a coward even as a woman would lead you nowhere in life. You turn to the Duke and thank him for his help, before walking on shaking legs towards the door of the castle. Underneath the terror and anxiety, your beating heart quickens for another reason, your strides quicken and you bite you lip to hold back the excited smile that twitches at your lips. Even through the fear, you might be able to enter a castle. A real life castle, and one that you had always hoped to enter. Mother had always warned that your childish curiosities would get you hurt, and you pray to Miranda that she is wrong. In no time at all, your eager legs have carried you through the snow to the door of the castle, and you give a timid if excited knock. After a few moments, your apprehension grips you, and you think to leave it at the door. Just as you turn around, the massive doors open and the warmth of the inside beckons you. Against your better judgment, you walk through the large doors which quickly shut behind you.

End note: Let me know what you all think it would be really appreciated

Total Word Count: 1959 words

[much2leite]

Is anyone else fearful of angst fanfics and avoids them? I'm already sad, don't make me sadder 🥺🥺

And the thing is, the better the angst fic, the worse it feels 🤕

How do I justify this to my therapist? "I read an amazingly written angst fic about the fictional character I'm obssessed with, welp"

[ghost-n-butteredtoast]

The Brat - a series

The Taste of Punishment - Part II

Yes, this little one-off request from Tumblr last year will be continued as a series (you're welcome, my little anonymous requester--and thank you!)

Slowly, she slid her fingers beneath the fabric as your eyes traveled up the length of her arm. The warm, soft black leather made contact with your breast, causing you to shiver. She chuckled darkly at your body’s response to her touch. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, little mouse?” Your lady bent down to your level, the nostrils of her curved nose flaring. Hidden under the shadow of her large hat, she whispered. “I can smell your desire.”