#bela dimitrescu fanfic

[iloveelliefanfics]

if it's okay with you, it's okay with me

a/n: it was so fun to write, even if it's pretty short. I'll definitely write a part two for this, i got this idea when i was trying to find a title with my friend and i had to make a kind of forbidden love story

summary: forbidden love, heir bela x maid reader, proofread

synopsis: you're a maid at Castle Dimitrescu and you fall in love with the eldest daughter.

I appreciate any type of feedback, thank you so much if you read this! i do take requests<3

You were just an ordinary maid. She was the heir of Castle Dimitrescu and the fortune the castle brings. Eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu. Your love was forbidden. You could never get caught with her.

Bela was more than just an heir. It was either you or her family and her future. You knew that if you ever were to be caught with Bela there would be great consequences to your actions. To your love affair.

You had worked in the castle for quite some time when you started seeing Bela. Both of you knew what you were up to, but still continued it, acting like it's not that big of a deal, even if it was. Both of you knew not to play with fire but you still did. Maybe it left you worse than it had with Bela.

You were not allowed to meet her anywhere at any time or when you wanted. You were only meant to meet her when she was giving you instructions on your next shift, but that just caused more mess. It hurt you how she was acting cold and nonchalant when she had to treat you like you meant nothing. Deep down it hurt her too.

You could not screw up when you were working or there would be consequences that would be hard for Bela. She'd do it anyway, that was her job, even if it was hard.

She loved how the things worked in the castle. She got to be what she was meant to be, helping her Mother where she had to. Being a second mother to her two little sisters was not the best sometimes but if she had to she was.

But then, when she realised you two are more than what you should've been, things changed a lot. It was mostly a secret affair, she was cautious, you and Bela had arguments about this, sometimes you'd make up, sometimes you'd act like nothing happened. Would this worth it? Would you two worth it? The risk, what your love affair would cause. One night, when it was your turn to switch shift's with another maid, Andrea, sudden footsteps were heard. It was her, Bela your girlfriend boss.

"Leave. All of you. All of you but you, Y/N" she demanded, all the maids rushed out looking at their feet, not daring to look at Bela Dimitrescu.

"I haven't seen you all day, you sweet thing." She shaked her head, stepping closer to you, grinning just like whenever you two were left alone. You just stared at her with a blank stare.

"Well, Daniela gave me intructions on clearing all the windows in the hallway. I didn't have time to fantasize about where you could be." Spite could be heard from your tone, you stepped further from her, which wasn't to her liking.

"You know that we're wrong. This is wrong, Bela i can't do this anymore. It's not easy, we have to let this go. We have to let each other go." You burst out all of a sudden, surprising her even. You felt like a truck had hit you a thousand times, maybe even millions of times. You loved her too much to not let her go.

"No, my darling we'll work this out, give me time." She stepped closer taking your face in between her hands, caressing your cheeks.

"We'll make this work, don't you dare do this to me sweetheart." She demanded. How could you ever say no to her? You loved her. That was the problem. Why did you have to fall in love with her?

"How? Really, how, when I'm just a maid and you're the heir of your family's legacy? We're not meant to be together." You get out of her touch and step away from her.

"Don't you dare step away from me, I'm trying to work this out!" Now she raised her voice, it was rare, if you weren't that precious to her you might actually be served up as dinner.

"You're keeping me a secret. I knew it wouldn't be this easy but i just want to see you." You move closer to her now, pressing your forehead to hers. "I want to feel you, I want to kiss you, I want everyone to know I love you, babe. I love you and i want everyone to know that you love me too." You burst into tears, you couldn't hold back your emotions. It really started looking like you're just a burden now that she keeps carrying but doesn't know how to get rid of. She hugged you tightly, letting you cry it out. Hell you need a breather now, it was too much.

the next day

"My poor sweet thing." Bela said while soothing your back. You never said those words before. "I..." She thought to herself for a second, if she says those words there's no going back and she knew it. "I love you too sweetheart." She pulled back from you, looking at you and your teary red eyes. She slowly pulled you in, kissed you with passion, love. Regret welled up in her, especially that she had to keep you as a secret. She pulled back from the kiss smiling at you.

"Tomorrow... it'll be different, sweetheart. You'll see." She said smiling at you, then disappeared into the dark night, leaving you all alone with your thoughts.

Once you were awaken, you got into your working dress, ready to start your day. You were doing your morning routine, but a sudden sound pulled you out of your thoughts. Someone was knocking on the door. You walked to the door, pulling it open. It was Bela.

"C'mon sweet thing, I'm taking you somewhere." She gave you her usual sly smile, putting out her hand for you to hold onto it. You gave her a confused look, she wanted to walk around the castle while she was holding your hand. It was too risky.

"I'm not going to hide you anymore, sweetheart, c'mon hold my hand" She was patient with you, just like always.

"What are you up to...?" You ask suspiciously, not knowing what to expect, she was always so full of surprise, you could never be too sure what she could come up with.

"You'll see sweet thing." she was still standing in your doorway, hands out for you to hold onto.

After looking back and forth at her hand and face, you took her hand and walked through the dim-lit hallway that led to the courtyard.

You were sitting on a bench that showed you to gorgeous parts of the castle and its garden.

"What are we doing out here?" You ask turning your head towards her.

"We're spending time together, sweetheart. Just like I promised that things would be different from now. This is how we start it." She looks back at you enjoying the surprise on your face.

"So... you're just letting us be seen? What if your Mother sees us?" You ask, letting the sweet spring breeze kiss your skin. The weather was amazing even from up here.

"Sweetheart... We all make mistakes. Keeping you a secret was one. I'm ready to take the consequences, because i choose you. I choose us. I choose our affair love. I'm not going to let anything or anyone ruin it." She moved closer, looking in your eyes while confessing what should've been confessed months ago.

Would you two really have a good ending? Why did she delay it for so long? So many questions popped up in your head, it was too quick, too sudden. You remember it all when it started. Was it a cat and mouse game? Was she playing with you? Maybe she was. She always loved to mess with your head after all. Between you two, sometimes she let her walls down... When she realised what she had done, she changed her demeanor. Was this another moment like that? If it was okay with her... Well you had no other choice, but be okay with it.

[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.

[izzymissi]

Re8 Women cooking with their Partner HCs

Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu

ALCINA

-Alcina never steps foot in the kitchen... until one day, she decides to grace you with her presence. She towers over everything, moving with elegance but completely clueless about how to use half the utensils.

-"Darling, this wine is vintage, do you know how much it costs?" You try to convince her that it’s not necessary for your simple pasta dish. She insists on pouring it in anyway—while looking stunning, of course.

-At some point, she knocks over a frying pan and immediately blames the kitchen for being “too small” for her stature.

-If you even get near anything sharp or hot, she’s immediately by your side. "No, I will handle the knives. Do you think I’d let anything hurt my precious girl?" She dotes on you the entire time, constantly interrupting the cooking process with kisses on your forehead.

DONNA

-You thought you were being efficient by breaking the spaghetti in half. Donna gasps, then starts screaming in Italian, flailing a wooden spoon at you while Angie cackles from the counter

-Most of the time, Donna just quietly watches you cook, a soft smile on her face as she sneaks up behind you to hug you from the back. But the minute you make a mistake, she lets out a quiet "tsk" and fixes it herself, all while keeping her shy demeanor.

-She gives you a mysterious jar of herbs to add to the sauce, telling you it's a "family recipe." You're 90% sure they're from her greenhouse, but the taste is surprisingly delicious. "Told you it would work," she says with a wink.

BELA

-Bela is the type who follows recipes to the letter. Every ingredient is precisely measured, and she insists on cleaning up as you go. "We can’t cook in a mess, dear." You, on the other hand, prefer a more chaotic approach, much to her frustration.

-You both argue playfully over how much basil to put in the sauce. She’s convinced you’re adding too much, but when she tastes it, she begrudgingly admits, "Fine, it’s actually… perfect."

-In between the playful bickering, Bela sneaks in soft kisses on your cheek while you’re stirring the sauce. You can feel her smile against your skin when she pulls away.

-At one point, she accidentally burns her tongue on a sauce sample. You laugh as she frantically drinks water, pouting at you for not warning her.

CASSANDRA

-Cassandra’s idea of "helping" in the kitchen is using her scythe to chop vegetables at lightning speed. "Look how fast I can do it!" she grins, but you wince at the chaos she leaves behind. A carrot or two ends up flying across the room.

-When you ask her to add a little spice to the dish, she dumps the whole jar of chili powder into the pot. "Too much? Babe, you’ll survive." Spoiler: You did not survive.

-Every time you try to concentrate on cooking, Cassandra playfully grabs you by the waist, spins you around, and kisses you passionately. "Why are you cooking when you could be kissing me?" She finally lets you get back to work after the fourth kiss.

-The kitchen catches fire for five seconds, and it’s absolutely Cassandra’s fault for leaving something unattended. But instead of panicking, she just laughs it off and says, "Well, looks like we’re ordering pizza tonight."

DANIELA

-Daniela wants to bake a dessert with you, but she ends up eating half of the cookie dough before it even goes in the oven. "What? I can’t help it!" she says with her mouth full.

-The kitchen is a disaster zone after cooking with Daniela. There’s flour everywhere—on you, on her, even in her hair. But she just laughs it off and smears some on your nose, playfully teasing you.

-While you're waiting for something to finish baking, Daniela takes the opportunity to start a tickle war, completely forgetting about the oven timer. The cookies end up overbaked, but neither of you cares because you’re too busy giggling and kissing on the floor.

-She sneaks little spoonfuls of everything you make, grinning like a child when you catch her. “I’m just making sure it’s not poisoned,” she says, though you both know she just can’t wait to try your cooking.

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 8

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7

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: 3.9K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

Your mind raced as you absorbed the message.

Could this be your way out?

The thought spiraled through your mind, igniting a flicker of hope deep within your chest. It was a chance – a slim one, fraught with danger and uncertainty – but a chance, nonetheless.

You stole a glance at Lady Dimitrescu, her elegant figure poised at her vanity, commanding the space around her. She focused intently on her reflection, her fingers moving with the precision of an artist as she applied the cream to her face.

Your own fingers trembled as you folded the note with as much discretion as you could muster, slipping it into your pocket. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady the storm of nerves swirling within you. Suddenly, Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze shifted from her reflection and locked onto yours through the mirror. Her eyes were sharp and penetrating, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Is something troubling you, dear? Your heart seems rather restless.” She inquired; her voice smooth but laced with concern.

Your stomach clenched in response to her words, the fear you were desperately trying to suppress bubbling dangerously close to the surface. You searched frantically for a plausible excuse – anything that might sound convincing enough to satisfy her. You swallowed hard, the action feeling monumental, as you fought to steady your voice and calm the tumultuous beating of your heart.

“I don't feel well, my Lady.” You managed to say, your words wobbly as they spilled from your lips.

You could hear the tremor in your own voice, and you hoped she would attribute it to your alleged illness. Lady Dimitrescu frowned, her eyes narrowing further as she scrutinized you from head to toe.

“You were feeling fine just a moment ago.” She remarked, her voice low and suspicious.

The tension hung in the air like a dark cloud, oppressive and foreboding. She turned in her seat, pivoting to face you fully. The fabric of her bathrobe rustled softly as it rode up to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her upper thighs. Her golden gaze, unnerving and intense, seemed to dissect you piece by piece, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. Your stomach churned violently, and for a moment, you thought you might actually get sick.

“I-I know. I thought I was,” you stammered, fighting to keep your composure. “But then a wave of nausea hit me, and I don’t really feel hungry anymore. The drug... it’s still affecting me.”

Fear gripped you so tightly at the thought of being caught with the hidden note that your hands began to shake. Before Lady Dimitrescu could open her mouth to respond, the plate slipped from your fingers, crashing to the floor in a shower of ceramic shards, scattering like the remnants of your fraying resolve. Lady Dimitrescu's eyes widened in surprise. The initial shock was quickly replaced by a simmering irritation that twisted her features into a dark scowl.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom. I think I'm going to be sick.” The words tumbled from your lips as panic surged within you.

With a sudden jolt, you sat up, your heart racing despite your weakened state. You forced yourself to move across the bedroom. The world around you twisted and blurred, dark shadows shifting into a disorienting backdrop that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Pet!”

Lady Dimitrescu's voice cut through the haze, a sharp command that made your skin prickle. The intensity of her gaze felt like a weight upon your back, yet you willed yourself to ignore her, pushing forward into the bathroom. You slumped against the cool porcelain of the sink, its unforgiving edge digging into your chest as you fought to draw in a single breath. Each inhalation felt like a struggle, your lungs constricted as panic took over, threatening to pull you under. You needed to escape this stifling place, to distance yourself from her.

Suddenly, a large shadow enveloped you.

“Pet,” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice low and silky, as her hand reached out to cradle your jaw. The warmth of her palm contrasted sharply with the chill in the air, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Look at me.”

She gently but firmly forced you to meet her gaze, turning your body with a grip that left no room for defiance. Her eyes pierced into yours, demanding your undivided attention.

“What has gotten into you? You reek of fear.” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice slow and deliberate.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

There was no way you could confess about the note or how the maid had helped you earlier. Your brain desperately wracked for something, anything, that might divert her suspicion. Perhaps honesty was the best approach – though not the truth she sought. You hoped against hope that it would work.

“That’s because I am scared,” you began, your voice quivering. “I’m scared of you, your daughters – of this whole place! Being drugged and forced to be your pet, it’s all too much! I just want to go home! I miss my family!”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you spoke, and you silently prayed that she would buy your explanation. Deep down, you meant every word. The fear, the confusion – they were painfully real. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though a flicker of hurt crossed Lady Dimitrescu’s face before she quickly masked it with her usual veneer of authority. 

“Such dramatics,” she said, annoyance threading her tone. “I understand that this transition is difficult for you, but you must embrace your new reality. In time, you will come to see that this is your home now. You belong to me, and you will adapt to this new life, whether you wish to or not.”

Relief washed over you, grateful that she had fallen for your half-truth. However, her words lingered, unsettling you. The notion of belonging to her, of being bound to this castle still made your skin crawl. She straightened up once more, releasing her grip on your jaw.

“Now, dry those tears and finish your breakfast,” she commanded, her voice carrying an edge of dismissal. “We don’t have all day.”

***

Currently, you sat across Lady Dimitrescu’s desk, your gaze fixed on a few documents laid out before you. The whole morning consisted of helping her go through her notes, meticulously analyzing every detail and ensuring nothing was overlooked. The task was mentally exhausting, each page filled with complex information that demanded your full attention.

As you shifted in your seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, Lady Dimitrescu's keen eye caught the movement. She paused her work, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before a small smile played on her lips.

“Perhaps we should take a break,” she suggested as she set her pen down. “I’ve had my fill of these reports. How about we pay a visit to the atelier?”

Your gaze snapped up in surprise. You had heard of the room during your first week here, but you’ve never stepped foot inside. Very few of the staff ever did. Her eyes locked onto yours, glimmering with a mischievous light that made your heart beat a little faster.

“The atelier?” You questioned; your curiosity piqued.

“Yes, I would like for you to see it,” Lady Dimitrescu continued. “The atelier is where I keep my more personal projects. I think you’ll find it quite... charming.” She rose from her chair with a fluid grace that seemed almost unnatural. “Come. There's much to show you, and I believe a change of scenery will do us both some good.”

***

You approached a heavy wooden door adorned with intricate carvings. As you drew closer, the elaborate designs came into sharper focus. The carvings depicted a lush, intertwining array of vines and flowers, each petal and leaf painstakingly carved with a level of skill that spoke of centuries-old craftsmanship.

You didn't have a chance to study it further as Lady Dimitrescu pushed the door open, the heavy wood moving effortlessly under her touch.

Inside, the atelier was a stunning contrast to the rest of the castle – a treasure trove of artistry and inspiration. The walls were lined with canvases draped in rich colors while some half-finished sketches were scattered about. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystal pendants catching the light and casting a soft, golden glow that highlighted the finer details of all the artworks. And in the center, stood a large canvas, partially concealed by a heavy velvet drape.

“What do you think, pet?” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice a low purr.

You stepped into the atelier; your senses overwhelmed by the vivid colors.

“It’s… beautiful.” You breathed, your eyes wide with wonder.

She hummed appreciatively. “Indeed. There is one piece in particular that is my favorite.” She gestured to that same large canvas in the middle. “Would you like to see it?”

You gave a brief nod. “Yes, my Lady.”

With a flourish, Lady Dimitrescu pulled back the drape, revealing a striking portrait of a woman – her features eerily reminiscent of your own. The painting captured every detail: the arch of the brows, the curve of the lips, the delicate contour of the cheekbones, but it was the eyes that held you captive. They sparkled with an otherworldly light, almost as if they were alive.

You could feel Lady Dimitrescu's gaze boring into you, scrutinizing every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. You swallowed hard, a chill creeping down your spine as you processed the painting.

“It looks… just like me.” You murmured, unable to tear your gaze away.

“Precisely.” Lady Dimitrescu said, stepping closer to you.

“Why?” You croaked, your voice sounding strained.

“There’s something about you that intrigues me,” she whispered. “Perhaps it’s fate that brought you to me.”

The corners of her lips curved upward, revealing a hint of her sharp, predatory teeth. The air grew heavy with tension, as if the very atmosphere around you had thickened.

“There’s so much more I want to share with you. So much more you could become.” Her voice was almost hypnotic, filled with promise and a hint of something darker.

Your stomach twisted, a knot of anxiety and unease forming deep within you. As the weight of her gaze came down on you, Lady Dimitrescu’s expression shifted, a playful smile breaking the intensity of the moment.

“But enough of my musings,” she said, her tone lightening. “What do you say we turn our attention to something a bit more hands-on? Would you like to try your hand at painting?”

The sudden change in topic made you do a double take. You blinked, the tension momentarily dissipating as you processed her unexpected suggestion.

“Me? Paint?” You echoed. “I’ve never really done it before.”

You looked up at Lady Dimitrescu, searching her face for any hint of mockery, but found only sincere encouragement.

“That’s fine,” she said, her smile widening. “It doesn’t require perfection; it requires passion.

She led you toward a blank canvas leaning against the right side of the wall, surrounded by a plethora of vibrant paints and clean brushes. You hesitated, glancing at the canvas and back to her.

“What should I paint?”

“Anything your heart desires,” she replied, stepping back to give you room. “Just let your instincts guide you.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a try.” You said uncertainly as you stepped forward.

You grabbed a paint brush off a nearby table, its weight feeling foreign in your hand. Next, you picked up a palette and a few tubes of acrylic paint. You squeezed out dabs of paint - vibrant reds, deep blues, and sunny yellows onto the palette. Slowly, you began to swirl them together with the brush, watching as they transformed into new hues – emerald greens and sunset oranges.

With a tentative stroke, you pressed the brush against the canvas, the bristles gliding smoothly across the surface. Each movement felt clumsy at first, but as you gained confidence, your strokes became more fluid and expressive. You layered colors, allowing them to blend and bleed into one another.

“Beautiful,” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her gaze fixed on you as you worked. “You already have a natural sense of color. I can see the potential.”

Encouraged by her words, you started to create bold strokes, blending hues and allowing your emotions to flow onto the canvas. For the first time, you felt a sense of freedom.

Not long thereafter, you set the palette aside and stepped back to assess your work. Before you flowed a waterfall that tumbled down a rugged mountainside while the surrounding landscape was filled with lush green trees and rocky outcrops. While the colors weren't as smooth as you had hoped, and some areas lacked refined detail, the painting held a certain charm. It wasn't bad for your first attempt at painting.

“It’s remarkable, dear.” Lady Dimitrescu said, stepping closer to admire your work.

You blushed at her praise. “Thank you, my Lady. I didn’t know I could do something like this.”

“And that’s the beauty of discovering oneself. We often underestimate our own potential,” she stated matter of fact. “Now, I'd like to show you a technique that is helpful for beginners. It's called dry brushing. I'll demonstrate on a blank canvas so that you can observe closely.”

She reached over your head and picked up the palette you had just used. As she did so, the board ended up tilting slightly and some of the remaining paint dripped off the edge, landing on your vest. The sudden sensation of cold, wet paint soaking through the cloth made you flinch back.

“Oh my,” Lady Dimitrescu said in surprise, though there was a small, knowing smile on her lips, as if she found the situation both charming and entertaining. “I do apologize, darling. It seems I’ve turned you into a canvas of sorts.”

You lifted the bottom of your vest in a futile attempt to keep the paint from running further down the fabric. Her gaze followed your movements, and she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against the paint-stained spot.

She let out a soft sigh. “Go wipe the excess paint off, pet, and leave the vest in the laundry basket. Return here once you’ve finished.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Your voice came out more awkwardly than you intended.

You turned to leave but not before your eyes were drawn back to the portrait of yourself. The uncanny precision of the details, the intensity of the gaze staring back at you. It unsettled you in a way you couldn't quite explain.

As you finally exited the room, you couldn’t help but wonder why Lady Dimitrescu had chosen this moment to show you the atelier. To show the painting of you.

What was her intention?

As you made your way to the Lady’s bedchambers, you paused, glancing down the hallway where her daughters' bedchambers were. The corridor stretched out before you, silent and shadowed. Nobody was around. The note in your pocket burned, reminding you of the main house key that was supposedly in Bela’s bedroom.

Your heart began to race as you debated snooping around in her bedroom. You didn't know where the Lady's daughters were, and the thought of running into one of them made your palms sweaty. Bela was known for her strict adherence to her duties, often seen patrolling the castle and overseeing the staff. Cassandra spent most of her time in either the armory or the cellar. And Daniela typically lingered in the library, absorbed in her books. You prayed that today they would follow their usual routines.

This might be your only chance to search for the key. It was a risk you had to take.

You pivoted on your heel and made your way down the hallway. The silence was almost deafening, each of your footsteps echoing against the carpeted floor. After a few more steps, you came upon Bela’s bedroom door. A small red gem rested in the center, which gleamed in the low light like a drop of blood. It matched the one on her necklace that she always wore.

You looked both ways one more time.

Nothing.

The hallway was empty. You slowly opened the door, the hinges creaking slightly, and slipped inside. The door clicked shut behind you. Bela’s bedroom was tidy and dark, the only light coming from a few scattered candles and the low flickering embers from the fireplace. Near the back was a large bed, pushed against the furthest wall, its canopy draped with rich, heavy curtains. A nightstand stood next to the bed, a single candle flickering on its surface. To the right was the fireplace and next to it was a desk, neatly arranged with papers and books, presumably placed there to keep Bela warm as she worked. On the left side of the bedroom was the vanity.

Where could the key be?

Logically, it would make sense to check her desk first. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you approached the desk, your fingers shaking slightly as you reached for the first drawer. It slid open, revealing a stack of neatly organized documents. You began to rifle through them, the papers rustling underneath your touch. Letters, schedules, and reports passed through your hands, but unfortunately, the key wasn’t there. You looked on top of her desk and moved some folders and books around, hoping the key might be hidden in plain sight, but it yielded nothing as well.

You walked over to her vanity and opened each drawer as well. Bottles clinked together, brushes rolled aside, but there was still no sign of the main house key.

A cold sweat broke out on your forehead and your hands began to feel clammy. You wiped them on your pants, feeling the fabric cling to your palms.

You needed to hurry.

You turned around and walked over to the nightstand. You opened the top drawer and moved some papers and personal objects aside. Your fingers brushed against the edges of journals, loose sheets of parchment, and small trinkets as you sifted through the contents.

Then, your eyes widened.

The key.

It lay nestled beneath a stack of old letters. For a moment, you simply stared at it, hardly daring to believe your luck. Then, with a swift motion, you quickly grabbed it and stuffed it in your pocket. You made sure to close the drawer before you made your way to the door. You cautiously opened it and peeked your head out. The hallway beyond was dim and deserted. Your breath came a little easier as you stepped out. You closed the door quietly, the latch clicking into place with a soft sound that seemed louder than it was.

You couldn’t believe it. You had the key!

Your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This was your chance to escape, to reclaim your life from Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters.

You picked up the pace as you made your way down the hallway, heart pounding violently inside of your chest. Before you could turn the corner, Catalina's face flashed across your mind for a split second, halting your steps mid-stride. The image of her warm smile and kind eyes filled your thoughts, bringing an unexpected pang of guilt. You wanted to say goodbye to her, to thank her for the help she provided in this nightmare. The thought of leaving Catalina without saying a word felt wrong, but you knew that time was not on your side. In the end, she would understand. She would want you to leave.

As you stood there, lost in thought, a distant scream sliced through the air, chilling your blood. It was followed by an eerie giggle. Possibly Daniela by the sound of it.

You knew you couldn't linger any longer.

You had to leave.

Now.

As you descended the staircase, you caught sight of a maid, her back turned to you as she dusted one of the heavy-looking vases. You hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t take the risk of her spotting you; if she did, it would surely spell disaster for both of you. She would have no choice but to alert Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters if she didn’t want to lose her life. Plus, you didn’t want to think about what the Lady would to do you if you did end up getting caught.

You continued down the steps slowly, your heart racing as you maneuvered through the foyer. You stayed close to the shadows, glancing nervously at doorways and corners, half-expecting one of the Lady’s daughters to pop out at any moment.

Finally, you reached the main door.

Your heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it might burst from your chest. You pulled the key from your pocket and inserted it into the slot with trembling hands, praying that it wouldn't make too much noise. The mechanism clicked, and you held your breath, waiting for any sign that you had been detected. You strained to listen, your senses on high alert, but the castle remained fairly silent. You pushed the door open with ease, and a rush of cool, fresh air hit your face. The sensation was almost overwhelming. You stepped out and shut the door behind you as quietly as you could. The final barrier between you and the horrors of Castle Dimitrescu was sealed away with a soft thud.

You let out a ragged breath, feeling the oppressive weight lift off your shoulders. The tension that had coiled tightly within you began to unwind, like a spring slowly being released. You could almost sob in relief, the overwhelming urge to break down right there nearly consuming you. But you knew that there was no time for that. You still needed to get away from here, to put as much distance between yourself and the castle as much as possible. Turning away from the main door, you sprinted across the courtyard, adrenaline overriding the lingering effects of the drug. Your breath came out in short, rapid bursts, your lungs burning with the effort, but you didn't slow down. You had to get away, you had to reach safety.

The chill in the air was sharp, nipping at your exposed skin and seeping through your clothing. It pierced through your layers, making every breath feel crisp and biting, but it was a minor inconvenience compared to what you had endured recently. Snow covered the landscape, its pristine blanket stretching as far as the eye could see, making each step a struggle. Yet, the sun's warm rays managed to break through the overcast sky, melting some patches away and revealing damp, slushy areas that squished underfoot. It reminded you that even in the harshest of winters, warmth could still break through.

Eventually, the winding path ahead twisted through dense woods, shrouded in shadows and thick underbrush that seemed to close in around you. A sense of trepidation settled in your chest, memories of local tales about the woods resurfacing in your mind. You had heard of Lycans roaming the outskirts of the forest, their howls often echoing in the distance during the night. Yet, for some reason, they mainly avoided the villages. It was as if an unseen force forbade them from coming too close, a mysterious boundary they dared not to cross. Regardless, it didn’t ease your fears.

As you pushed forward, several branches scratched at your arms and face, their jagged edges catching on to your clothing and drawing minor scrapes that stung in the cold air. But you hardly noticed the pain; your focus was fixed on the path ahead, each step taking you closer to home.

You couldn’t wait to be reunited with your parents again.

[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

[thegoodending-thelasttime]

average dimitrescu fic vs hallmark movies

are we really no better...

[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✌️

[duvernost]

just a little nibble….. @donnasmeatballs

[ghost-n-butteredtoast]

Dimitrescu Books

Chapter 47 <<Link

They Didn't Believe Me

“After Miranda, I decided to keep any relationships private until I knew they were worth sharing with you girls. It is not until now, being with Jessica that I felt I had found anyone worthy of sharing my personal life with, sharing what means most to me in this world, the three of you!”

Cassandra shook her head. “So you kept secrets–”

“I would hardly consider keeping my affairs pre-Jessica to myself as keeping secrets,” Alcina interrupted. The matriarch set her jaw and collected what poise she had left before continuing. “But yes, I thought introducing my young and impressionable daughters to what only amounted to nothing more than–” Alcina pursed her lips, trying to choose her words carefully in front of her youngest.

Dani rolled her eyes. “ Sex , mother. Just say se–”

[iloveelliefanfics]

Bela's sweet little thing ୨ৎ

synopsis: you're friends with the Dimitrescu daughters, but your relationship with bela turns from friends to... more

summary: mentions of nicknames, flirting, fluff, friends to lovers, wc is about 1k.

pairing: confident/flirty bela x shy reader (no pronouns used for reader)

story is proofread, i take requests

a/n: this is my first post, thank you if you take your time to read this! english isn't my first language so if you find anything that i should correct, please feel free to do so. pics are from pinterest!!

It was just a usual normal day around the castle. You befriended the Dimitrescu daughter's after a few weeks you had moved to the village with your family. Their Mother, Alcina Dimitrescu liked you from the very start, which was rare, considering how overprotective she was when it came to her daughter's. The summer breeze kissed your skin as you made your way to the beautiful castle to spend time with Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

Although, you mostly spend time with Bela, she has the same interests as you, it made you two connect very quickly. Your shared love for music and art was lovely. If you weren't playing on an instrument with her, or listened to your favorite songs, you walked around the castle viewing the beautiful painting's they had hanging on the walls. This time was no different. As much as you loved spending time with Daniela and Cassandra, you loved every moment spent with Bela even more. Secretly, she adored you, so did you adored her.

Everything felt... Natural when it came to you and her. Every conversation, every second, every stolen look, every laugh. Little did she know she started developing a crush on you. Maybe you had too. You weren't too sure of your feelings. Lately you started feeling nervous around her, longing stares felt like you were going to blow up any minute if you wouldn't stop looking at her. She's too gorgeous not to look at.

You tried denying that you like her. That you really started developing feelings. Once you had realised, you wanted to act on it. You wanted something to happen so badly, but it's easier said than done. Even if it's just your skin brushing against each other's it was still... something.

She was stuck in your head while you were walking. Once you were at the castle, the enormous gates opened, revealing the three daughter's. They were always on time when you talked about catching a break and spending time together. They rushed to you, hugging you tightly. They are always so, so welcoming.

"Y/N, hi, you finally arrived! We have prepared tea for you." -Bela said with a huge grin while nudging you inside the castle.

While you were walking through the hallway and as the daughter's were chatting, you couldn't help but catch Bela looking at you from time to time. Once you arrived in the living room, all of you sat down, and started talking.

Hours passed, which felt like seconds. When Daniela and Cassandra returned to their bedroom, you were left alone with Bela.

"I have a few new things to show you, c'mon." Bela suggested and held out her hand to help you up. You accepted her hand with a smile, clinging onto her.

As she led you through the hallway, with intertwined arm's, you were lost in your thoughts, thinking how could you give a hint that you want to be more than friends.

"Y/N, you there?" she bumped into you with her shoulder, bringing you back to reality.

"Huh? Yeah, just lost in my thoughts. Were you saying something?" You ask, confusion visible on your face.

"Yes, I was saying that i had a new painting I want to show you." She smiled at you, leaning closer to you.

To make you walk faster she placed a hand on your waist, guiding you through the rooms and hallways of the castle.

"You look really pretty today, sweetheart." She complimented on your appearance, making you blush, by not just the compliment but also the nickname.

"Definitely not better than you, Bela" You return the compliment, catching her off guard. She turns her head to hide her blush, she's not used to compliments.

"Oh, returning my compliments, now, sweetheart?" She asks, confidently walking beside you.

"Just because i returned it, doesn't mean it isn't true, sweetheart" You return the nickname, making her laugh.

Her hand remained on your waist, guiding you in silence. You find yourselves standing in front of a large window overlooking the castle grounds, the sun is setting, its light still visible from the castle window, so you're still met with a spectacular view.

You notice that she's standing a little closer to you than she'd usually stand, as she likes to keep her own personal space. You gaze out upon the darkening landscape together, admiring it, wishing it could last forever.

"Quite the nice view huh?" Bela says with her usual sly grin, after taking in the views.

"Yes... Quite the nice view." You nod in agreement and you both look back out the window, watching the sun begin to sink behind the surrounding mountains. It's a breathtaking view, with shadows starting to fill the grounds as the light fades.

"Yeah," she responds, "It's a nice view, alright." She says as she looks in your way.

She looks over to you, meeting your gaze, a sly smirk still across her lips as she admires you in the fading sunlight. You notice now that she's standing much closer than she was earlier, less than a foot separating you two. Her smile grows, almost sultry, as she continues to look into your eyes.

"Although," Bela says, her voice just above a whisper, "The view right in front of me might be even more appealing..."

You blush, words stuck in your throat. Is it actually happening? You can feel your cheeks flush under her gaze, her words sending a shiver down your spine. Bela notices your reaction and her smile grows even wider, enjoying the effect she's currently having on you.

"No need to be so shy." She says softly, taking a small step closer, closing the remaining gap between you and her. Her lominous eyes never leaving yours, you get lost in her eyes. She brings a hand up to brush some hair away from your face, her fingers gently tracing your jawline. She can feel the heat of your blush as you struggle to respond, your eyes wide and your pulse beginning to quicken. Bela knows she has your full attention now, and she's loving it.

She let's her fingers drift from your jaw to your chin, gently tilting your head up to maintain eye contact as she closes the space between you two.

"You're so cute when you blush like that," She murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, leaning closer to your ears. "It almost makes me want to keep teasing you, you sweet little thing..."

"Bela..." Your breathe quickens "Maybe i put myself in situations like this to make you tease me.*

You exit the window-lined hallway and continue down the dark passageway. The castle is quiet now, most of the maids have already retired to bed, leaving you alone in the dimly-lit corridors. Your footsteps echoing softly in the silence as you make your way to the art room. As you walk, she glances over to you, admiring your profile in the low light. She smiles slightly, enjoying the quiet moment between you.

You know," Bela begins after a few moments. "You never asked me what the painting is of," She points out, gently bumping your shoulder, "You just agreed to see it, sweetheart."

"Because everything you touch or make turns out to be beautiful. I'm always curious what you have for me, Bela." You look at her with a shy smile. After admiring the spectacular view, you make your way to the art room. As you reach the door, she pushes it open and gestured for you to step inside. The room is dimly lit by a few hanging lamps, giving the room a cozy, intimate atmosphere.

She leads you further into the room, towards a large canvas that stands in the center, hidden by a cloth. Bela glances at you, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"You ready, sweetheart?" she asks, her hands on the cloth, ready to reveal the painting. You nod slightly, a mix of curiosity and anticipation on your face. You also can't let go of the given nickname.

"Alright," She murmurs, taking a deep breath, "Here we go, sweetheart..."

she pulls the cloth away with a grand flourish, revealing the painting to you... of you. She made a portrait of you. It captures every detail of your face, from your delicate features to the way your hair falls across your shoulders. The paint depicts you in an artistic, almost ethereal way, the light from the lamps in the room casting a warm glow across the canvas.

She stands back behind you, watching your reaction carefully, waiting to see your response. Your eyes widen as you take in the image on the canvas. You almost don't recognize yourself at first, the way she captured every bit of your features surprised you.

Bela remains silent, standing quietly behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You both can feel the tension between you grow as you examine the painting, your eyes tracing every brush stroke, every detail, every small part of the image that depicts you...

"Well?" She murmurs in your ears after a few moments, unable to hold herself back any longer. "What do you think, sweetheart?" Her voice is soft, a hint of flirt in her voice. She's desperate to hear what you think of the painting. Did she capture your beauty? Did she do justice to your likeness? She looks at your face, searching for any reaction, any sign of what's going through your mind.

"This is... amazing Bela, wow!" You're left speechless. Instead of saying something you turn around and hug Bela tightly."

"Oh you sweet little thing, I'm glad you like it." As she was petting your hair, she pressed her face against your neck. She pulled away from the hug. slightly leaning to your face. "I'm so glad you like your very own potrait, sweetheart." She repeated caressing your cheek. She leaned closer to you, pressing her lips to yours. You slowly kiss her back giving into her kiss and touch. You pull away and look into her eyes, touching her face.

"I think i can say it now, I've liked you for a while now." You say smiling, with a flustered face.

"Oh you sweet thing, you could've confessed sooner."

[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.

[izzymissi]

How would each of the dimitrescu women react to a maid asking for uppies, a headcannon:

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Alcina would be momentarily taken aback by the request. Despite her usually stern and imposing demeanor, the maid's cuteness would likely soften her, if only for a moment. She might chuckle and gently lift the maid with one hand, her strength making it an effortless task. Alcina would likely tease the maid afterward, saying something like, "You are quite bold, my dear. I hope you know how lucky you are."

Bela Dimitrescu:

Bela would be surprised and flustered by the request, especially if it came from a maid she has a crush on. She'd hesitate at first, blushing and possibly stammering, but ultimately she wouldn't be able to resist. She'd carefully pick up the maid, her heart racing the whole time, trying to hide how much she’s enjoying it. Bela might quietly whisper, "You're lighter than I expected," as she tries to keep her composure.

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

Cassandra would probably smirk at the request, finding it both amusing and endearing. She’d lift the maid without hesitation, enjoying the close contact and the opportunity to fluster her. Cassandra might hold the maid a bit longer than necessary, perhaps even teasing her with, "You better watch out, or I might never put you down." She’d revel in how flustered the maid becomes, finding it utterly adorable.

Daniela Dimitrescu:

Daniela would be the most enthusiastic about the request. She'd immediately scoop the maid up with a playful laugh, spinning her around in the air. Daniela would love the chance to dote on the maid, showering her with affection while holding her close. She might say something like, "You’re just too cute! I could carry you around all day!" Daniela would make the whole experience fun and lighthearted, making the maid feel cherished and adored.

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 7

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

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: 4K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

You sat in front of an open hearth, trying to keep warm as the flames crackled and danced before your eyes.

The heat was a welcome relief against the evening chill that seemed to seep in through the floorboards. Winters were harsh in the village and the biting cold had a way of sneaking in, no matter how well you tried to insulate the house. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows and making the old timbers creak in protest. You pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders, the soft wool scratching gently against your skin.

The thick smell of wheat porridge wafted through the air as your mother stirred the pot over the fire, the wooden spoon moving in slow, precise circles. The rhythmic motion of her hand was soothing to watch, each turn and swirl a gentle reminder of the care she put into everything she did.

The main door creaked open a second later and your father stepped in, bringing a gust of frigid air with him before closing the door behind him. He hung his scarf and jacket on the coat rack, the woolen fabric glistening with tiny crystals of frost. His face was dried out from the cold, and he brushed a few stray snowflakes from his hair, shaking them off like tiny diamonds that sparkled briefly in the firelight before melting away. He took his boots off next, placing them by the door to avoid tracking in the snow.

“It sure is getting chilly out there.” Your father said, walking over to you with a smile that conveyed both his relief at being inside and his joy at seeing you.

“Yeah, I can feel it from here.” You replied, grinning up at him.

He sat down next to you, stretching out his hands toward the fire to get warm. He sighed contentedly as the warmth seeped into his fingers, gradually thawing the stiffness brought on by the cold.

“The goats are finally resting in their barns,” he continued. “I’ve placed enough deep straw bedding to keep them warm overnight.”

“Good,” your mother said with a warm smile, not looking up from her stirring. She then placed the wooden spoon aside, tapping it lightly against the rim of the pot to shake off the excess. “Well, I’d say the porridge is pretty much done cooking.”

The aroma of the grain and spices grew stronger, mixing with the faint scent of burning wood and the earthy smell of your father's clothes.

She brought out some mismatched but well-loved bowls, their chipped edges and faded patterns revealing the many shared meals you all had together over the years. She started filling the steaming porridge into each bowl, the sound of the thick, hearty mixture pouring out and settling in bringing a sense of comfort and routine. As she handed the bowl over to you, the warmth from the food seeped through the ceramic, warming your hands and bringing a smile to your face. Your mother finally looked up, her eyes softening with affection as she saw your pleased expression, and in that moment, everything felt right in the world.

Suddenly, a loud, insistent knock on the door startled you all.

Your mother’s smile faltered, and she exchanged a quick, concerned glance with your father. He frowned and stood up, walking over to the door. As he opened it, the hinges creaked ominously, and you strained to catch a glimpse of the visitor. You heard a man's voice, though you couldn't quite make out what he was saying. The words were muffled and indistinct, but the tone carried a weight that made your stomach churn with unease.

Your father's body tensed, his shoulders stiffening. Your mother, noticing the change, got up and walked over to him, her movements quick and anxious.

“What's going on?” She asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Your father turned to her, his face ashen and drawn. “They've come for her.”

Your mother gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. “No, they can't have her.” She said, her voice cracking with desperation.

The sheer terror in your mother’s voice sent a cold shiver down your spine, a fear you had never seen in her before. She took a step back, her body shaking, and you could see the tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

“What's wrong?” You asked, your voice trembling.

Your mother turned to you, her eyes wide with fright. “You are to be taken to Castle Dimitrescu,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You are to become a servant there.”

Every muscle in your body froze.

The thought of leaving your home, your family, and everything you knew to serve in that oppressive castle was more than you could bear. The stories you had heard while growing up, whispered in hushed tones by the other villagers, had painted a picture of horror and despair. Each tale was laden with vivid, terrifying details that seemed to seep into the very fabric of your nightmares. They described how the matriarch of the castle – known as Lady Dimitrescu – and her daughters fed upon the blood and flesh of the women who were brought to them. How these women were consumed in grotesque rituals or used as experiments in the depths of the castle. And it was only women who were chosen for this fate, as Lady Dimitrescu had a perverse preference for their suffering.

The legends were so ingrained throughout the village that they seemed like an inescapable truth, a dark cloud looming over every woman who resided here.

The truth of the matter is: once taken to Castle Dimitrescu, there was no return.

“I don’t want to go.” Your voice wobbled.

The words seemed to catch in your throat, stifled by the heavy weight of fear. Your mother rushed over to you and hugged you. Her arms wrapped around you with a fierce, protective desperation, as though she could somehow keep you safe just by holding you close. You glanced over at the doorway and saw four men standing there, their expressions grim and resolute. They were clad in dark, somber attire that seemed to blend in with the night.

“Please, not my daughter,” your mother begged. “Don’t take her from us.”

Her voice was filled with anguish, a mother's final plea to protect her child.

The man at the front of the group grimaced, his eyes filled with reluctant sorrow. “I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze shifting downward as if he could not bear to meet your mother’s eyes. “Mother Miranda ordered five women from the surrounding villages to be brought to Lady Dimitrescu before the night ends.” 

You saw your father’s fists clench, his knuckles turning white against the strain. “What would it take to make you look the other way?”

The man’s eyes hardened, narrowing into cold slits that revealed nothing but a steely resolve. “You know we can’t take the risk of accepting a bribe.”

Your father's anger flared as he took a threatening step closer to them. “You know what they’ll do to her if you bring her to that cursed place!” He shouted, his voice rising in a desperate plea.

Your mother started to sob quietly.

“I don’t like it any more than you do but we don’t have a choice. This is Mother Miranda’s order.” The man said through gritted teeth, his voice strained and edged with frustration.

The men took a step forward just then. They advanced with a sense of purpose, the weight of their boots crunching ominously in the snow. Your father, however, remained unmoved, blocking the entryway with a defiant stance. His broad shoulders were squared, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. The man at the forefront held your father's gaze with a cold, unflinching stare.

“Please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” The man's voice was a low, urgent plea, tinged with the barest hint of exasperation.

Your father’s response was immediate and resolute. “I won’t let you take my daughter.”

There was a tense silence between everyone.

Then, chaos erupted.

The men surged forward, their coordinated assault forcing their way past the doorway with brute force. Your father grappled with them, his movements desperate and frantic as he tried to hold them back. He fought with a mix of rage and terror; the strain etched deeply into his features.

Amid the struggle, one of the men seized your bicep with a rough grip, yanking you away from your mother’s tight hold. His fingers, rough and unyielding, dug in mercilessly, sending a jolt of pain through your arm. Your mother’s eyes widened in horror as she reached out, her fingers grasping at the empty air where you had been moments before.

“Please, stop!”

The sound of her voice – caught between a scream and a sob – was a heart-wrenching plea that echoed in the small space, mingling with the grunts and shouts of the men. Before your mother could take a step toward you, she was pulled back by another man, who held her in place with an iron grip. Your father, still battling fiercely against two of the men, was eventually subdued and forced onto the floor.

You cried out, your voice hoarse and ragged, as you were dragged outside toward a waiting carriage. The night air hits you like a freezing wave, its sharp bite cutting through your clothes and chilling you to the bone. In the distance, you could hear your mother and father calling out your name, their voices filled with anguish as you were shoved into the dark interior of the carriage. As the door slammed shut behind you, you startled at the sight of four women huddled inside, their faces pale and stricken with terror. Their fearful gazes met yours. A sorrowful cry from outside snapped your attention away from them, the sound of your parents’ despair cutting through you. You turned back around and peered out the small, grimy window of the carriage.

The last thing you saw was your parents, their outstretched arms reaching out desperately toward you. Their muffled cries of your name echoed in your ears, haunting and heart-wrenching, as the carriage rolled forward, carrying you further from everything you had ever known.

***

You woke up abruptly, your body drenched in sweat.

The sheets were twisted around you, damp from your perspiration, clinging uncomfortably to your skin like a second, suffocating layer. The air felt heavy and thick, making it difficult to breathe as your breaths came out in short, panicked bursts. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the persistent fog from your mind and make sense of your surroundings.

The familiar bedroom of the Lady’s soon greeted you with an eerie calmness.

Slowly, you sat up, feeling a strange lightness in your limbs. They no longer felt like lead and there was a faint sense of strength returning to your muscles. The lingering effects of the drug must be lessening, you thought, as you felt it in your veins, a weightlessness, an inkling of the energy that used to be yours. Your head no longer throbbed with the same intensity, the pain receding to a dull ache. For the first time in what felt like ages, there was a glimmer of hope.

Perhaps the worst has passed.

The lightened mood inside of you shifted as the bathroom door swung open with a soft creak. Lady Dimitrescu emerged, wearing a thin bathrobe that hugged her hourglass figure, the damp fabric accentuating her curves. The robe's hem skimmed her mid-thigh, revealing her long, slender legs. The front of the robe also hung open loosely, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth, porcelain skin, her large breasts almost on full display. Her hair, still damp from a recent bath, cascaded in dark, wet strands that clung to her neck and the side of her face, framing her features in a way that heightened her already natural beauty.

Lady Dimitrescu paused as she saw that you were sat up in bed and wide awake. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She seemed to take a moment to assess your condition. After a moment of silence, she spoke, her tone soft yet probing. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, her voice deceptively gentle as she watched your every reaction.

You fiddled with the edges of the bedcover, glancing away before answering, “I feel a little better.”

Lady Dimitrescu hummed thoughtfully, as if she were considering your words carefully. She made her way over to you and you almost blushed as she leaned down, her ample bosom close to your face. She pressed her hand to your forehead, her touch cool and firm, yet unexpectedly soothing. A smile appeared on her face as she pulled away, a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

“I'm very pleased to see that you're feeling better,” she said. “You've been through quite an ordeal but you're recovering nicely.” She straightened up, towering over you once more. “However, you still need to regain your strength. I believe a bath would do wonders for you. Freshen up and prepare yourself for the day. Breakfast will be brought up shortly.”

“Yes, my Lady.” You murmured.

You gazed up at her expectantly, waiting for her to lift you up.

She smirked in response. “I trust you’ll be able to walk there on your own. Consider it a small test of your progress.”

“O-Okay.” You nodded weakly.

You moved your legs over the edge of the bed and hesitantly climbed down. Lady Dimitrescu's gaze lingered on you, her eyes tracking your every move with an intensity that made your skin prickle. Your legs wobbled as you took your first few tentative steps. Each small stride was a monumental effort that required all your concentration. You could feel the heat of her body and the soft rustle of her bathrobe with every step you took. You glanced back to see Lady Dimitrescu towering behind you, her expression unreadable yet undeniably predatory.

The corner of her lips twitched slightly as she glanced back at you. “Go on. You're almost there.” She purred.

The bathroom door loomed ahead like a distant finish line, each step feeling like a marathon. You took a few more big steps, legs trembling with the effort. With a final, strained push, you collapsed against the doorframe, steadying yourself.

“Well done, pet.” Lady Dimitrescu praised, her tone a mixture of amusement and approval. “It seems you can walk on your own again without any assistance.”

Her words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you felt a bit embarrassed at her praise. You lowered your gaze, trying to hide your reaction, but you knew she could see the faint blush that had crept up your neck. Lady Dimitrescu turned away, seemingly satisfied, and sat down in front of her vanity. She picked up her hairbrush and began to comb it through her damp strands with long, slow strokes.

Turning away, you stepped into the bathroom, the tiles cool under your feet as you carefully walked over to the circular bathtub. You reached out and turned the faucets on, the metallic handles cold against your palm. The hiss of water starting to flow was a soothing sound, mingling with gentle splashes as it began to fill the large tub.

As the water reached the desired level, you dipped a hand in to test the temperature, letting the warm liquid swirl around your fingers. Satisfied, you began to undress. The soft fabric slipped smoothly from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooling at your feet. You stepped out of them, feeling a slight shiver as the cool air brushed against your bare skin.

Carefully, you eased yourself into the bathtub, the water embracing you with a soothing warmth. You leaned back, allowing the water to envelop your body completely. The heat seeped into your muscles, easing the tension that had settled there. The sensation was calming and after a few minutes, you reached for the small shampoo bottle, the familiar floral scent wafting up as you opened it. Pouring a generous amount into your palm, you worked it into your hair, massaging your scalp with your fingertips.

After rinsing the shampoo out, you repeated the same action with the conditioner. You picked up a washcloth next and lathered it with your favorite soap. As you began to wash your body, you started with your arms and worked your way down, the soap forming a frothy layer across your skin.

Feeling thoroughly cleansed, you decided it was time to get out. You reached for the fluffy towel lying nearby and stood up, letting the water cascade off your body in shimmering droplets. Wrapping the towel around yourself, you stepped out of the tub. With each step away from the tub, you noticed how your muscles felt more invigorated. The simple act of moving your limbs felt easier and more fluid.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, steam fogging up the edges, and noticed how refreshed you looked. Despite the harrowing experience of the past few days, your complexion seemed clearer and the shadows under your eyes were less pronounced. It was a small comfort, but one that did little to alleviate the deeper anxiety of what became of your current life. As you turned away from the mirror, a stark realization hit you: there were no fresh clothes available.

Oh god, you had to leave the bathroom. Naked. In front of the Lady.

You wrapped the towel tightly around yourself and slowly opened the bathroom door. You were met with the sight of Lady Dimitrescu seated at her vanity; her tall frame elegantly poised as she applied a final touch of her signature red lipstick. Her eyes flickered toward you, a knowing smirk playing on her lips as she observed your state of undress.

The towel clung to you like a thin shield, providing minimal cover against her lingering gaze.

“Um-do you have any clothes I could change into?” You stammered.

“They're resting on the dresser nearby.” She replied, her tone casual yet edged with an undertone of amusement.

You nodded, eager to escape the uncomfortable intensity of her gaze, and made your way to the dresser. On it, the clothes were neatly folded, each item arranged with meticulous care. However, the attire looked distinctly more refined than the drab uniforms worn by the rest of the staff. A recent memory resurfaced, and you remembered that a few days ago you were being measured by Irina for some new clothes. Ones that would be of the highest quality, befitting your new role.

The outfit was a sheer white button-up blouse paired with a sleek black vest. The ensemble was complemented by black pleated pants and polished black dress shoes that gleamed with a mirror-like finish. You gathered the clothes and shoes and quickly made your way back into the bathroom, eager to get changed. As you closed the door behind you, a low, melodic chuckle from Lady Dimitrescu reached your ears, making you feel even more self-conscious.

It didn’t take you long to get dressed as you stepped back into the bedroom, feeling the smooth fabric settle comfortably against your skin. Each piece fits perfectly, hugging your body in all the right places.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a pleased hum as she observed you, her eyes appraising you from head to toe. “You look quite fetching.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” The words left your lips almost automatically.

Then, something between you two shifted. There was a deep-seated hunger in her eyes, an unsettling gleam that made you nervous. You couldn't shake the feeling of being prey under her gaze, every instinct urging you to run.

The moment ended when a firm knock on the door echoed throughout the room. Your attention snapped toward it, making you jump a little. Lady Dimitrescu turned her head slightly to the door, her expression shifting from predatory to mildly annoyed.

“Enter.” She commanded.

The door opened and a maid entered. You recognized her from the kitchens, where you had seen her in passing but you had never spoken to her before. She seemed to be one of the more reclusive staff members, avoiding interactions with anyone outside her immediate tasks. You can’t say you blame her. The maid kept her eyes lowered, her posture stiff with fear and respect. She rolled in a cart with breakfast on it, the dishes clinking softly against the tray.

“Set it on the table.” Lady Dimitrescu ordered.

“Yes, my Lady.”

The maid obeyed quickly, her hands trembling slightly as she arranged the meal on the table. You watched her, feeling a pang of sympathy. Living under Lady Dimitrescu's rule was clearly a nerve-wracking existence for everyone in the castle. Lady Dimitrescu's eyes returned to you once more, her gaze softer now, but still holding that unnerving intensity.

“You may get started on breakfast, darling. I still need to finish up.”

You gave a brief nod, feeling a strange mixture of relief and apprehension, and walked over to the two high-back chairs positioned by the coffee table. You settled into one of the chairs, your eyes still drawn to Lady Dimitrescu as she resumed her morning routine. The maid, with her eyes still cast downward, continued to unload several dishes laden with a variety of delicacies from the cart.

As she picked up an empty plate and set it down before you, you noticed the corner of what appeared to be a folded-up note tucked discreetly beneath it. Your heart skipped a beat. The sight of the note sent a surge of hope through you, but also a wave of fear. What if Lady Dimitrescu noticed the note? What if this was some kind of trap? The fear of imminent punishment or discovery tightened around you like a vise. But this could possibly be Catalina’s doing as well. She did say she would find a way to get you out.

You glanced up at the maid, her demeanor appearing almost composed as she moved with an air of indifference. She had her back turned to the Lady and with a quick, deliberate look, she directed your attention to the note before her gaze flickered back to you. Her eyes seemed to convey a silent message; a hint of encouragement mixed with an unspoken warning. You shifted your gaze over her shoulder and saw that Lady Dimitrescu was preoccupied with opening one of her face creams.

You reached out cautiously, your fingers brushing the edge of the plate to retrieve it, the note pressed firmly underneath. As you lifted the plate, you made sure the note remained hidden, held securely against the porcelain by your trembling fingers. With a quick, almost mechanical motion, you grabbed a vine of grapes and placed it on your plate, trying to appear nonchalant as your mind raced with what could possibly be written on the note.

The maid finished placing everything on the table and glanced at you one last time. After a final, measured look, she turned away from you.

“All done, my Lady.” She said, her tone smooth and respectful.

“Good. Now leave us.” Came Lady Dimitrescu’s cold reply.

The maid responded with a quick, respectful nod before curtsying again and retreating with measured steps. The sound of the cart gradually faded as she wheeled it out the door. You could almost hear the echo of her footsteps as she disappeared down the corridor, leaving you alone with the solitary note that now held your full attention.

Your pulse quickened, a jolt of anxiety mingling with anticipation as your fingertips twitched against the note. You needed to know what it said. With your eyes remaining fixed on the Lady, you slowly began to slide the note out from underneath the plate, careful not to make a single sound. With a careful touch, you thumbed the corner of the note open, your heart racing as you unfolded it. The words on the piece of paper came into view, stark and simple, and you could hardly suppress your widening eyes at the revelation.

Main house key

Miss Bela's bedchambers

[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"

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 45: In Which Quicksand Is Less Than Quick

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

"Don't make it weird."

"What do you mean?"

"Just... don't make it weird."

"Make what weird?!"

Cassandra gave Daniela a look as she sucked her blood cocktail through the glass straw in her tall cup, tilting her head causing the messy bun atop to flop, "when they come out tonight; don't. Make it. Weird."

Daniela narrowed her eyes still leaning on the marble countertop with a near-scowl at her sister, "why do you think I'm going to make it weird? When did I give the inclination I'm going to make it weird?"

"You haven't," Bela added with a sly smile, "you just tend to get excited about stuff. Sometimes weirdly excited."

Daniela pushed herself off the countertop and threw her hands in the air with some exasperation, "is weird my new default adjective? When have I ever made something so weird that you two speak of?"

Cassandra and Bela exchanged glances.

"Dani." The brunette enunciated.

"CUH-SAAAWN-DRUH." Daniela exaggerated back.

"Dude!" Bela hissed, "shhh, they are still sleeping - let it go -" she pointed at them both, then to Cassandra, "don't be a pest," pointing now to Daniela, "just be chill... k?"

Daniela tsked, "I will, god," she huffed leaning back down onto the countertop, "am I like the only one interested in mom's new girlfriend?"

"No, I'm excited to get to know her," Bela replied, "this one is clearly not going anywhere and I, for one, am happy for mother. She will more than likely be a big part of our lives now, at least, if she isn't ready to run from her first introduction to our world." She giggled.

"Yeah, Mother Miranda certainly gave her a dramatic welcoming, if you can call it that. Not sure how I'd feel getting sucked into a war that had nothing to do with me, then have to kill said person who sucked me in, tried to kill me, and then... yeah wow, what the fuck, that poor girl is probably traumatized as shit."

With a large dramatic sigh Cassandra pulled her other knee up to her chest on the bar stool and put her glass down on the counter, tugging at her oversized forest green zip-up hoodie back around her angled shoulder, "most likely, and with what they both went through the last three days I'll actually be a little surprised if they make it out of the bedroom tonight." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully at her sisters.

"Ew. Gross. Why."

"Oooo, so they didn't do any of the nasty last night?" Cass grinned at the redhead, "I figured with your bedroom being the closest you'd have - "

"Oh! My fuck!" Daniela spat, "No! I didn't hear anything. That's the last thing I'd ever be listening for, Jesus."

Cassandra cackled and Bela shook her head.

~

Waking up to Alcina like this was a whole new sort of feeling.

You were in her bed, in her home, in the underworld, safe under her watch and care.

Some sort of twisted invigoration spurred through you, and with that sleep drunk smile on your face you nuzzled back into her with a sigh of contentment. This really felt like home.

"Mmm," Alcina hummed sleepily herself, "my mighty warrior, awake..." she grinned with her eyes still closed as she wrapped her arms about you tightly, brushing her lips over the top of your head nestled under her chin, "have you slept well?"

Nodding mutely, you took a deep breath and sighed, "you?"

She hummed low in her chest and it rattled lusciously against your cheek.

"When you are in my arms, the dead have nothing on me."

You chuckled, still very groggy, "I give the term sleeping like the dead new meaning, huh?"

"Definitely new and improved."

Pressing your face further under her neck, you relished how relaxed and comfortable you were, knowing if you were to stay here for much longer you'd likely pass back out. It didn't sound like too bad of an idea, really. Before you'd both climbed into bed, you were worried about getting back to your life above ground; stressing over what kind of mess you would be facing to clean up. Now, in the bliss of this, you were on the brink of forgetting it all.

"What time is it?" you eventually uttered begrudgingly against yourself.

Alcina, just as procrastinating as you, lazily looked to the golden clock on the far wall in the dim light and squinted, "it appears to be midnight."

"Dammit all," you mumbled, "I don't want to go."

"So don't," Alcina replied softly, "stay. You needn't leave for any reason unless you just want to."

Again you sighed and closed your eyes, "just up and leave my life like aliens abducted me?"

"Why not?"

A stupidly completely valid point. So valid you couldn't, or maybe perhaps didn't want to, counter it with reason. Were you really going to go back to your job? Your desk prison? What was left up there in the human world aside from Malka? Nothing would ever be the same now.

"Listen, you're taking advantage of my sleepy state and making too much sense. I've at least got to go get my plants and clothes."

Alcina chuckled deliciously and rolled you over, peppering you with slow sweet kisses everywhere, "draga mea, I can't help but indulge my selfishness," her nose nuzzled your earlobe, "I promised to take you home, and so I shall, as much as I'd like to keep you here. Decisions can be made later, if you must keep me pining."

"Well I certainly don't want to be the cause of you pining."

"Oh," she moaned, "but you're sooo good at it dragoste."

You both giggled and gave into the last few minutes of unbothered happiness before finally rising and getting ready. Well, Alcina got ready, you made a half-effort attempt at just making yourself presentable to make it out of the underground and to your apartment.

Though, you did get to watch your lady of the night dress and put on her makeup, and that was a treat that made the choice of choosing to live down here so much more tempting.

She was meticulous but fast in all her application. Now whether that was from your necessity to get home or just how she did this every night you weren't sure, but the woman had you captivated in the simple tasks and you blushed without regret when she caught you studying her in the mirror.

Alcina smirked through her last swipe of red lipstick and hummed, "see something you like?"

Her voice was cool and tinted with the bedroom tone that made you all but swoon, and you shook your head through a nasally huff, "only everything," you smiled.

Rising from the vanity bench, you took your bottom lip between your teeth as she stood before you now fully prepared to take on the night. She wore a pair of loose black pleated pants, much like the ones she'd taken Mother Miranda down in, looking flawless as she did, and a maroon chiffon blouse that was tucked into said trousers with a simple yet elegant black belt with a gold buckle cinched around her waist. If the underworld had a Miranda Priestley, Alcina would be it. She looked like an unintended seductress; too regal, too beautiful, to not be completely dangerous.

Alcina smirked and sauntered over to you perched on the chez lounge, leaned down and took your chin into her grasp, "you make this too easy." She sighed as she kissed you through a smile.

"What?" You inquired as you caught her glimmering grey hues.

"Adoring you."

~

Her daughters were in the kitchen as you two were leaving, and it seemed they were even more awkward about the whole thing than you were, at least in Daniela's case. She knocked over her wine glass on the attempt to straighten her posture and address you and her mother as you passed. Alcina merely rolled her eyes as she went to grab her trench coat.

"I shall return shortly, girls." She stated, trying to hide her amused grin.

Tangled 'ok's' and 'mhm's' were muttered in response. Cassandra and Bela gave you kind nods and small smiles. Daniela gave a weak, unsure kind of wave of her hand and more of a toothy grin, and then Alcina was tugging you by the arm out of the manor.

You did not ask for clarification on that situation.

Meanwhile, not moments after the door had latched, Cassandra grinned smartly. 

"Told you you were going to make it weird."

"Oh shut up!"

Bela with a huff and loud eyeroll, she removed herself from the counter, leaving her sisters there to do as they may and headed upstairs to the turret.

~

Now that you were able to really take in your surroundings, the underworld city of vampires and lycans was seriously impressive. The cavern in which this place was so intricately built made you genuinely question what else about life was hidden under human noses. To think that an entire city hid under the bustling state that was New York made you feel childlike in the wonder of it all; a world within a world that no one knew about. You loved it. It was so beautiful, so terrifying, and so meticulously kept. There was no trash to be found in any corner, nothing broken, or run-down, no stains on the cobblestone or cracks in the sidewalks, let alone the buildings that still looked brand new aside from their ole world architecture. And, there was no vegetation either you realized. The street lamps were bright, and the buildings emitted light of their own from windows, but there was no natural occurring light down here at all. It was a little claustrophobic at first, but overall it was a wonderous sight. 

As the two of you walked, you noticed it was rather empty and quiet. Either everyone was still slumbering or they were out in the city feeding or doing whatever it is vampires and lycans do. Eventually you did pass a couple vampires as you got closer to the edge of the city; their glances were long yet attempted to be understated as they eyed you, but shallow bows were offered in silence as Alcina lead you on.

She held your arm on hers proudly without any noticeable disturbance from how they gazed at the two of you. You smiled. That aura of pure prowess of hers emanated at great length.

Getting out of the underground was even more intriguing to you since you'd been unconscious when Miranda's heathens brought you here. The tunnels were pitch black in some areas as you went and you held just a little tighter to Alcina's arm. You couldn't see it but you were pretty sure she was smirking stoutly at your literal blind trust.

As light began to syphon slowly down the current corridor you walked, your eyes adjusted accordingly and your grip loosened, and before long you were coming up several sets of stairs and into the belly of a church. This must be St. Patrick's. The events that took place last time you were here set off the tumbling of dominoes that oddly enough lead you to this very moment. You wondered how that situation had been handled and if -

"What in Gods name has been happening?!"

A voice halted you and Alcina with a jerk.

Alcina didn't miss a beat.

"Ah, and good evening to you as well, Father."

A disheveled looking priest was now in front of the both of you, his wide bloodshot eyes and tired expression trying to hide under the facade of, well, several expressions. You recognized him from before and he looked even worse for wear than last time.

"What has happened?!" The father asked again, throwing his gaze between the two of you, finally setting to staring at Alcina as though he was parched, "I've had to shut the church down for two days! The - the - those things! Hundreds of them! Came barreling through here! And the rumbling and - and - explosions? Th-the sounds coming up from the tunnels! I've not had any sleep - I haven't left - I sent everyone home - I -"

"Father," Alcina said, halting his rambling and heavy breath, "rest assured, everything has been handled."

His face went blank before erupting into another twisted grimace, "what does everything mean!?"

Alcina, in a most uncharacteristic fashion, placed her palm on the priests shoulder and squeezed it softly, "you will give yourself a heart attack if you do not relax," she mused, tilting her chin upwards slightly before taking another paused breath, eying him intently, "the everything of which I speak is that very threat we all faced. The ones who mauled and killed your deacon? Well, they have been neutralized. It's over, Father."

Watching the worry and tension melt off of him was nearly comical. You weren't sure if he was going to collapse to the floor by the news and you glanced up carefully to Alcina who looked all the more pillar-like as she seemed to hold this man together somehow.

"Oh..." the word fluttered from his parted lips, "I... that is... that is wonderful news," he sighed and dropped his gaze most heavily, "I feared the worst... the silence over the last several hours has had me on edge - I - I assumed those... white-eyed creatures would emerge from the underground again and it would be over."

Straightening her spine, Alcina cocked an eyebrow, "Father Sullivan," she uttered slyly, though you could hear the hint of playfulness, "that might be the most hurtful thing you've ever said to me."

You watched as the horror and worry returned to his face as he peered to Alcina with his jaw dropped again in the need to defend himself.

Alcina grinned most eagerly, "to think we, and I, have defended this world and your church for so long, and you assume some fancy-fangled new breed of vampire could swoop in and take us down?" She placed both hands on her hips and huffed, "I must say I'm a little disappointed in you."

Her wink finally lessened the leash of his fear again. 

He started to laugh, taking his quivering hands and running them along his weathered cheeks with a smile emerging, "I doubt I will ever be able to fully follow your wicked calm and sense of humor, Lady Dimitrescu, but I am grateful to you, as I always have been, despite our differences and disagreements."

"Think nothing of it, Father. Relax. As I have told you many, many times in the past, you are far too uptight for your own good. Everything is under control. You are safe, your priests and deacons are safe, your church is safe. And now, I really must be getting this lovely lady home." She smiled over at you.

"Oh, oh yes," he sputtered and swallowed, nodding at you with a weak smile, "forgive me, how rude I have been," he outstretched his hand for you to shake, "I am Father Sullivan... and you are?"

You took his hand but before you could reply, Alcina was introducing you for you, proudly.

"And she is half the reason for the armies defeat and that we are all safe... she is to pass freely in and out of your church without question."

Father Sullivan nodded, "yes, of course. You may come and go as you please. The side door where Alcina will lead you is always unlocked for her kind, you may use it the same."

Alcina smiled once more before taking your arm in hers, "thank you, Father. Now go home and rest. I will visit you soon to discuss matters."

You could tell he was far too exhausted to say anything else. He folded his hands in front of him, bowed his head graciously, and then you parted ways.

Your apartment looked very much the same as you left it. But the notifications on your phone were anxiety inducing. 

16 missed calls and 4 voicemails. Work, Malka, and your co-worker Blair. Oh boy.

While you were looking through your texts and listening to your voicemails, Alcina was checking to make sure all locks on your windows and doors were still operational and nothing was broken from your kidnapping. Perhaps the best of news was that everything seemed fine.

She turned to you as you sighed heavily while leaning against your kitchen counter, plopping your phone onto the surface while rubbing your face with aggravation.

"That bad?" she asked resting her hand on your shoulder, eyeing you sincerely.

"It's not so much bad, it's just chaotic," you mumbled, finally locking eyes with her, "everyone is freaking out that I've vanished. I've been gone two days, going on three. Blair said my boss is reaching out to authorities, soooo I've gotta come up with some kind of story as to where I've been, and dear god I do not want to deal with police. I have no idea what I'm going to tell everyone. And then there's Malka who is worried as hell, especially since she... erm, well, knows about you and what's kinda been going on. I texted her first and told her to call me when she wakes up."

Alcina narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, trailing her hand down your back while leaning on the counter next to you, "let me worry about the police," she instructed, "I'll deal with that if your employer has contacted them."

You tossed your eyes to her with confusion, "how?"

"Draga mea, you forget already how far my reach is?" She smirked, "the deep city officials and our kind have worked together for over a century, remember? Who do you think has to play clean-up whenever a vampire or lycan gets out of line and causes a disturbance? Don't worry about them, I will take care of it for you."

Shaking your head with a bit of relief, you chuckled at her, "you never fail to blow my mind."

"A cherished pastime," Alcina smiled brighter, grabbing for your hands and holding them to her lips, "now, about your story."

Staring with a sigh, you shrugged your shoulders, "I'm drawing a blank. I'm a shit tier liar."

"Mmm... perhaps you were struck by a vehicle in a crosswalk and have been in the hospital. You of course asked said hospital to call your work, but we all know the incompetence of the medical profession from time to time, so the call was never made, therefore it isn't your fault you've been "missing", but you are mending and will likely need... two, three weeks off work to recover?"

Her twinkling eyes and greedy smile made you giggle, not to mention the decently detailed story fabrication.

"Have you been concocting this for a while?" You chuckled.

Alcina grinned, "the walk may have given way to some inspiration."

"And I'm sure the two to three week recovery period has everything to do with my injury and not your ploy to spend more time with me, right?"

"What an insinuation!" Alcina pursed her lips, "of course it has to do with your injuries. You may have a horrible concussion, draga! Perhaps whiplash, broken bones even? The possibilities of such an accident really are endless... you may even need a month to fully recover, but I must speak to your doctor to be sure."

You were fully laughing now, "and who might my doctor be, ma'am?"

"Well that would be the Attending Physician Dr. Beneviento; Donna Beneviento, draga mea - we've known each other for many years, you know. She's brilliantly smart, one hell of a physician."

Her unwavering smile made the majority of your worry dissipate as the story did hold merit if it could be pulled off.

"So what, you give Donna a call; give her the details; she works her magic, and poof - I have a doctors note?"

Alcina nodded, "that's about it, yes. Just say the word and it is done."

"Well, this makes more sense than anything I could probably come up with. I guess it's a couple week long recouperation for me under your, erm, Dr. Benevientos' watchful care, huh?"

"Mm yes, I think so."

"Good," you said as a twinkling of mischief appeared in your own yes, "that'll give me plenty of time to get my shit in order and for you and Malka to meet."

The sharp turn that sentence gave Alcina played out perfectly and you were fighting your urge to laugh. Watching her struggle with the glee that you were free for several weeks to a very clear 'damn you' was everything you needed right now.

Draping your arms over her shoulders you kissed her cheek over and over, "I think it's cute."

"Mmm?" She hummed, securing her hands on your lower back.

"Your jealousy."

'"I am not jealous," Alcina replied all to quickly, looking at your smirking face inches from her, desperately trying to believe her own lie, "I am simply protective."

It was your turn to raise your eyebrow, "well then meeting her should put all of that at ease."

Doing all she could not to roll her eyes, Alcina narrowed them and pulled you tightly against her, kissing your lips light and tender, "if it pleases you, draga mea... I shall."

"It would please me greatly."

"Fine."

Kissing her through another smile you sighed once more, feeling like there was some control back in your grasp.

Alcina returned the smirk, but hesitated to let go of you, "I suppose this means I need to get back to the underworld and speak with Donna," she sighed, "my life is going to be very interesting over the next few weeks... will you be staying here?"

You tilted your head in contemplation briefly, "maybe I should until it mellows out down there?"

"Your presence will more than likely be demanded when the clan leaders show up in groves."

Your eyes bugged, "I have to meet more leaders? Didn't I already do that?" 

"Only the local branches of my area, the rest will undoubtedly be on their way as the news of Mother Miranda's death reaches far and wide. Remember, there are nine clans."

Your head spun for a second, "wait, I thought the council members that I met were those leaders?"

"Mm, no draga, those are the local heads of this particular section of the underworld; vampire and lycan. The ones I speak of are like me; matriarchs and patriarchs of their own cities."

"Oh god," you dropped your head, "I dunno if I'm cut out for vampire politics."

Alcina chuckled brightly, "you aren't being put on trial dragoste, that will be for Ethan and Mia. You will simply be a local celebrity, as it were. You helped me take down one of the oldest and most infamous of our kind... that in itself, outside the fact you are a mysterious creature yourself, will have curious admirers dying to meet you."

Your visage flattened, "a terrible, terrible pun."

She kissed the tip of your nose, "if I must meet Malka -"

"That is COMPLETELY diff - "

Alcina placed a long slender finger to your lips and smiled, "you'll be wonderful and well received, I promise you."

The scowl you bore weakened and you huffed once more through her immobilizing beauty, "Un. Fair. You forget I'm just a boring tiny human in a big world of beautiful vampires and fearsome lycans. I'm not used to the glamourous, big to-do's you all... do, or whatever."

"Dragoste," she cooed, "you are not human, and the life you have lived has not been kind nor nurturing of you and your power. You - are a mighty Fae - and the world in which I govern is more for you than I think you might realize. Give it a chance. Believe me, it is not all grandeur and glory. But being with those more of your calibre might suit you."

You considered her words. Maybe she was right.

Maybe.

"It's still scary," you admitted, "I feel like a flopping fish out of water in pretty much every aspect of my life right now... I haven't had a lot of time to really digest it and... it's pretty surreal. Everything has happened so fast. I was like, normal last spring, before I met you," you teased, "then I find out vampires are real. I fall in love with you. I start to change and have no idea what's happening. Malka tells me I'm magickal - then all of a sudden my powers show up - THEN mutant vampires attack your city, we take on a deranged vampire and kill her, aaaand now life is supposed to... what, go back to normal? What the fuck even is normal now?"

Her smile was soft as she caressed the side of your face, "I understand. You're right, what is normal? But you have me. And... Malka, and Donna, and even Karl, Angie, and anyone else you choose to confide in - you won't be alone in the journey, draga mea. I am with you the whole way."

The surrealness really was setting in now that you'd said it out loud. Grasping it was harder than holding sand.

You plopped your head into Alcina's chest and held her tight, "thank you... It feels so strange."

Alcina understood the conundrum well. She too had her whole life flipped upside-down. From one moment dying in bed, to a choice that gave her immortality. How does one not go mad at the thought?

"If it is any consolation, you aren't strange. You are simply walking a very unique path now," she squeezed you firmly, "a whole new world and life is at your fingertips."

While it felt like a blip of an eternity had gone by standing in your kitchen embraced by your vampire in silence, you pulled back and looked at her, "so... what now?"

"As I said earlier, I need to get back to speak with Donna to get your work off your back. Then find out what knots in the city need untangled, deal with the mutant problem, see the hidden underground where Miranda was hiding all this time with said mutants, and meet with the clan leaders as they show up. There will also be a very interesting trial for Miranda's little nuisance minions; Mia and Ethan."

Her wicked glimmer of a smile said without words she couldn't wait for that. 

Once more Alcina traced her finger over the side of your face, "if I don't see you until then, I will be here tomorrow night." She then eyed you firmly, "what do you need from me until then, draga mea?"

"Nothing, you've got it under control babe. I'll wait patiently for my Queen of the Underworld to return to me."

She scoffed, but smiled, "more power was everything I didn't want, and now look at me."

"I think it's kinda hot."

"You would," she shook her head, cupping your face, "and indulging you is hard to resist."

~

Upon reentering the underground, Alcina reached into her trench coat pocket and retrieved her small brass cigarette case; plucked one from the lip and lit it with a similar lighter as she walked, eyeing her surroundings with a new sensation.

This was all hers now. Untampered. Without an absent thumb pressing down upon her any longer.

She would reign over her people with more understanding and openness than ever before. Her hands would no longer be tied by a tyrant who wanted her to bake her a cake with half the ingredients. These were her people, all of them, and she would do all she could to be the leader they all deserved and more; not for her vanity, but for the good of their livelihood and the future that was inevitable. Her role didn't seem so cumbersome anymore. Somehow, in the dramatic events that had occurred, she felt sturdy and honored with her title. The once looming threat of her silent, lurking enemies seemed far from her now. She didn't feel the poisonous glances she'd experienced for the last several decades, no, she felt no lingering trace of danger at all. She'd made her stake. Her claim. A bloody, deadly demand for respect that would echo for centuries to come. If one were to be so bold to challenge her now, somewhere in the depths of her soul she felt no qualms with fear or hesitance. Why that was she may never know, but it felt good either way.

Change would come, and she would meet and forge it. And she wanted you by her side through it. If it were at all possible.

Turning down the cobblestone towards City Hall in her quest to find Donna, Alcina heard commotion as she approached the inner city. She came to find several groups of vampire and lycan alike, huddled and gathered around large amounts of stone and construction gear, blueprints being passed and scoured over, and sounds of work being executed further off down another street. Repairs were already underway; she loved how quickly things were happening.

Almost on cue as she thought about who was responsible for such promptness, Dmitri, Mitch and Sylvia came out of City Hall conversing amongst themselves, handing off more papers and orders to workers and continued on with their task. She stopped and stood to admire the scene, but as her eyes moved around something different about City Hall caught her eye.

Narrowing her vision as she looked up the facade of the grand building, there above the large stone entrance was a bloodied, mangled mess of long blonde hair tacked just above the towering double doors.

Alcina took a very long drawn out drag as she studied it.

"I see you've found Angie's handiwork," Donna stated unamused as she approached her friend from behind, coming to stop at her side and look as well.

Without a breath of an expression on her face aside from her narrowed eyes, Alcina let the smoke blow from her red lips as she tapped the ash from the tip of her cigarette onto the stone at her feet.

Donna wasn't sure if she should panic, "I can have it removed immediat -"

"No," Alcina cut her off, a smirk tugging now at her lips, "leave it," she looked over to Donna taking a shorter puff, "but at least confirm the rest of her body, whatever might be left after your vulture of a sister, and no doubt Heisenberg took from it, made it to the sun tower?"

Unable to hide her own smile, Donna nodded but didn't get to answer.

"I can confirm that on behalf of Miss Beneviento," Dmitri offered approaching the women, tucking his long white hair behind an ear, "that tower was sealed over an hour ago with my supervision. Miranda's jaw remains in Karl's possession, I'm not entirely sure what Angie took, but the skull fragment," he motioned to the hall, "is all that's left otherwise. Not my choice of decoration, but, it does make a suitable statement."   Alcina shook her head and tongued her teeth, "I suppose there is no subtlety about her death. Perhaps it's a statement that needs made... I'm sure the clan leaders well let me know." She smiled.

"Yes, and speaking of that," Donna began, "Marguerite will be here by the end of the night. I've received word from a few others, but I assume in no more than three days time, all clan leaders will be accounted for. The council will adjourn to address the happenings and I've been busy gathering all intel for it. I sent Mateo with several of Karl's military to Miranda's manor in Connecticut, and Dmitri has several of his people working with Salvatore in the secret lair Miranda built here collecting whatever we can."

"Ah, yes," Alcina remarked, "I would like to see this place as soon as it is feasible."

"I can take you whenever you are ready." Dmitri affirmed with a nod.

"Excellent, but first I must speak with Donna." Alcina said grasping her arm softly, "Dmitri, may I meet you here in half an hour?"

He nodded graciously and the two women set off inside City Hall.

The half hour that was spent inside the disheveled council room seemed to take much shorter than Alcina realized. Donna was happily running 100 miles an hour to get your needs in order. She was carrying the cell phone Angie had hidden in the house and used it to contact her and explain her duty in the workings for your cover. Alcina proclaimed she was judging her quite harshly, as she knew if her daughters found out she'd never hear the end of it. Donna simply shrugged and begrudgingly admitted cell phones were handier than she cared to admit. But they finalized and mobilized to get you taken care of and Alcina was then seeking out Dmitri.

Miranda's hideout was quiet literally next door to them. In the furthest reaches of abandoned tunnels at the North end of the city, hidden behind a faux wall, lay one entrance to her lair. It was a ridiculously obvious choice to make as she normally came from the North East tunnels from her Connecticut abode. But, no one had any reason to go looking or snooping, though the agitation remained for Alcina that this had all been done right under their noses.

There was a steep drop to a long set of winding stone stairs that lead to the belly of the cavern. The ceiling was no where near as tall as the city's, and it felt cramped for all things considered. But it was large. Easily half the size of Alcina's city. Which made for a nice fit for her army that were standing about mindless, unmoved, and vacant of all light behind their eyes under the watch of several of Dmitri's soldiers. 

Alcina couldn't help but seem a semblance of sorrow for them as she walked through, following Dmitri to what she assumed to be an important area of this whole debacle.

Through the vast, dim, elongated cavern, they came to an area to the right that had a single red door that was halfway open. As they approached, Dmitri motioned for Alcina and ushered her in.

This room looked nothing like the rest of this place.

Clearly this was Miranda's chambers. The walls were covered in papers with notes, maps, and pictures. The myriad of tables and benches were filled with similar paperwork. Off in the far corner was a bed well made, a small vanity, and a wardrobe with several articles of clothing. Alcina gritted her teeth briefly before Dmitri approached her with a leather back journal.

"We've found countless, heavily detailed, hand-written documentation of Mother Miranda's escapades down here... this is one of her personal diaries. I thought you may want to look it over," he said handing it to her. 

Taking it slowly from him she peered down and began to flip through the article. Her handwriting was very clean for cursive, and Alcina mused only a little on the words as Dmitri continued.

"I've not gathered this room up entirely as I wanted you to see it."

"Have you given your people any time to rest, or did you begin this immediately after my command to go and rest?" She smirked with a knowing gaze.

Dmitri bowed his head shallowly with a smile, "you know me far too well to know that I sit by idly when things need done. These matters needed attending to. I won't deny my gnashing curiosity for Miranda's activities lead me on to find answers. I feel we're scratching the surface at best; the piles and stacks of... all of this has been extensive. And, there's many more where that came from, but the journal you hold is the most recent. The more we dug, we found some dating back nearly twenty years."

"Twenty years?" Alcina repeated looking up from the pages with disbelief.

Dmitri nodded, "this has been in the works for a very long time, it seems. Though, this is not the worst of it."

"I would assume not. What else have you discovered?"

"An experimentation room."

Those three words made her stomach churn.

"Show me."