#bela dimitrescu fanfic

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 1

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

AO3: You Belong to Me

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

Word Count: 3.4K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grimaced in response.

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

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

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

“Definitely. See you then.”

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

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

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

***

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

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

“You there, stop!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Miss Cassandra.” You whispered obediently.

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

For a moment, you stood frozen in shock.

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

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

This was raw and real.

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

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

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

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

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

The implication of her statement hung heavy in the air.

“Yes, Miss Cassandra.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My Lady.” You managed to utter softly.

But there was only silence in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, my Lady.”

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

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

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

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

You hope you never find out.

***

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

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

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

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

My dearest pet,

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

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

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

Yours faithfully,

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu

Blood froze in your veins.

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

Pet.

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

None of this made any sense.

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling dry and constricted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a long pause as she absorbed your words.

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

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

Pet.

You were no longer a person, but a possession.

[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.

[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...

[duvernost]

just a little nibble….. @donnasmeatballs

[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✌️

[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–”

[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.

[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"

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 10

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9

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: 3K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

The sharp bark of a dog jolted you awake, the sound cutting through the oppressive stillness of the forest like a blade. For a moment, you remained frozen, your breath caught in your throat. Then, faint voices began to reach your ears, their murmurs growing steadily closer.

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you pushed yourself up from the damp, mossy ground, crawling on trembling hands and knees toward the hollow tree's narrow opening. You peered outside, your heart pounding like a war drum. In the dim moonlight, faint figures moved between the trees, their outlines illuminated by the flickering glow of their torches. Squinting, you strained to count them. Too many. Far too many. They were spread out, meticulously sweeping through the forest.

“I saw her head this way earlier!” A man’s voice rang out, loud and certain, carrying through the trees.

Your heart slammed against your ribs, each beat louder than the last.

They were looking for you.

The realization clawed at your mind, icy and relentless. Had she sent them? Was this Lady Dimitrescu’s doing? The thought alone was terrifying, but as fear pooled in your chest, another possibility surfaced, far more chilling: if she had sent them, she might be out here too – searching for you herself.

Another bark – closer this time.

Your hiding place was no longer safe. If you stayed, they would find you; it was only a matter of when. You needed to move – fast and quietly. Gritting your teeth, you backed away from the opening, carefully gathering your belongings. Crouching low, you crawled out from the tree, the chill of the night brushing against your face. You slipped into the underbrush, moving as silently as possible, taking care with each step to avoid snapping branches or leaving tracks in the fresh snow.

You veered away from the direction the torches were coming from, navigating through the densest areas of the forest, hoping its thick cover would mask your escape. Snow began to fall again, blanketing your footsteps as you moved. Another bark echoed through the trees, sharper, nearer, and a cold dread settled over you – you didn’t have much time before the dog picked up your scent. Desperation clawed at you, urging you to move faster but you had to be careful not to make a sound that could give you away. You tread lightly, carefully maneuvering around brittle twigs and ducking beneath low-hanging branches. Whenever possible, you stepped along exposed roots to avoid leaving footprints in the snow.

In the distance, a small, rocky outcrop caught your eye – a cluster of jagged boulders encircled by a dense tangle of brambles and ivy. It wasn’t much, but it offered enough cover to hide if you could slip inside. Keeping low, you crept toward it, forcing your way through the thorny branches, wincing as it scratched across your cheek, but you pressed on. Finally, you wedged yourself into the narrow gap between the two rocks. Tucking your limbs tightly against your body, you held your breath, willing yourself to be as small and silent as a mouse.

You froze, breath hitching as the crunch of footsteps pressed closer. The dog barked again, its growl more focused, more certain now. You could almost picture it pulling its owner forward, paws scraping against the snow as it dragged them closer to your hidden spot.

A flicker of torchlight emerged through the brambles, and you stilled, watching as a villager stepped into view, gripping the torch firmly in his gloved hands. His breath misted in the frigid air; his face set with tension. He stopped abruptly, squinting into the darkness, and for one horrifying moment, his gaze seemed to settle directly on you.

“Nothing here.” He muttered, his voice low and gravelly.

The torchlight flickered unsteadily as he turned to regroup with the others, but the dog stayed rooted, its nose twitching with sharp, deliberate sniffs. The owner murmured something under his breath and gave the leash a firm tug, but the dog resisted and focused intently on your scent. Its muzzle dug into the snow, pawing furiously at the ground.

You pressed your body as close as possible to the rocks, the icy chill leeching deep into your bones.

“What is it?” The man asked the dog, his voice low as he moved back in your direction.

You held your breath, willing yourself to be invisible. He crouched low, his eyes scanning into the crevice. A heartbeat later, his eyes locked onto yours.

“I found her!” He bellowed as he turned to alert the others.

Panic surged through you, propelling you forward. You continued to force yourself through the narrow gap, leading out to the other side. Adrenaline rushed through you as you bolted out into the open, your feet barely touching the ground as you ran.

“Get her!” The man shouted.

You pushed yourself harder, lungs burning, eyes fixed ahead. The sound of the dog's paws crunching through the snow grew louder behind you, but you refused to slow down. Your legs screamed in protest, yet you willed them to move faster, ignoring the burning ache in your muscles.

Just as your foot struck on uneven ground, the earth beneath you suddenly gave way. You lurched forward, arms flailing in a frantic attempt to catch yourself, but it was too late. You plummeted down the steep edge of a ravine, rocks, and debris tearing at your skin as you fell. Pain shot through your limbs, but you barely registered it as you reached out wildly, fingers grazing the air, searching for anything that might stop your fall but there was nothing.

Finally, you came to a rough stop at the bottom, gasping for air. The pain in your legs was intense, a searing throb that pulsed through your joints, but you couldn’t afford to linger. You forced your head up, your vision clouded, and caught a flicker of light above – torchlight, swaying with each step. A man’s figure appeared; his silhouette was framed by the glow while the dog stood beside him.

You pushed yourself upright, gritting your teeth against the wave of dizziness that threatened to drag you back down. You couldn’t afford to stop – not now. The dog’s barking rang out through the ravine, and with no time to spare, you stumbled forward once more, legs unsteady but fueled by sheer determination.

The ravine seemed to stretch on forever, each step sinking into the thick, cold snow as your breath quickened. The landscape began to change, the trees thinning, and then, you finally stumbled into an open space. The ground here was softer, scattered with patches of green and yellow flowers that seemed to glow faintly under the glare of the moon. The air, oddly warm, wrapped around you, but you couldn’t focus on it. A wave of haziness washed over you, blurring your vision as the world swayed around you. The ground tilted beneath your feet, and your legs buckled, unable to hold you upright any longer.

Your knees hit the earth first and then the rest of your body followed, collapsing onto the soft grass below. You tried to blink, to clear the fog from your vision, but your body refused to respond. Just before you lost consciousness, a shadow flickered at the edge of your vision. Their silhouette sharpened against the glow of the lantern they held and then the darkness swallowed you whole.

***

You slowly stirred awake; your head weighed down by disorientation. However, awareness began to seep in a few moments later. The first thing you registered was the soft creak of the couch beneath you – comforting, yet unfamiliar. With some effort, you eased yourself into a sitting position, your gaze sweeping over your surroundings. It appeared to be a living room.

The warmth in the air was soothing, the kind that wrapped around you like a gentle, comforting blanket. Faded paintings, their edges softened by age, adorned the walls, and the air was thick with a mix of dust and a faintly sweet fragrance, reminiscent of dried flowers. It was peaceful here, yet a subtle unease began to coil at the base of your spine, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. Something about this place, though inviting, caused a massive amount of discomfort to build deep inside of you.

You frowned as your gaze landed on a feminine-looking doll. She sat perched on a shelf; her porcelain face marred by cracks that twisted her features into an unsettling half-smile. Her dark eyes, unnervingly still, seemed to follow you – too aware, too watchful. Then, as if defying all logic, she moved – her head turning slowly to face you.

“Awake at last.” The doll crooned, her voice surprisingly clear, yet laced with a childlike, taunting edge.

Your heart leaped into your throat, the blood in your veins turning to ice as your mind raced to comprehend the impossible scene before you. No, no, no, you thought, shaking your head in disbelief. This isn’t possible. Panic flooded through you, and you tried to rise from the couch, but your limbs felt like lead. You gripped the edge of the cushions, desperately trying to steady yourself, but your body betrayed you, forcing you back into a slumped position, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

The doll’s laugh rang throughout the living room, high and eerie, sending an involuntary shiver creeping down your spine.

“You should see the look on your face!” She exclaimed, delighting in your terror.

Before you could freak out any further, a new, darker presence filled the room. A woman draped in black appeared, her features obscured by a veil. For reasons you couldn't explain, the silence that accompanied her felt oppressively heavy. Without a word, she glided into the living room, and a cold, chilling realization dawned on you just then – this had to be Lady Beneviento. The interior of the house was far more opulent than anything you'd seen in your home village. Plus, the stories whispered about her being a reclusive figure, always hidden behind a veil, never speaking a word. It made sense.

A long pause followed before the doll abruptly straightened, her movements quick and jittery.

“I know you’re wondering how you ended up here,” the doll’s gaze remained fixed on you, those dark eyes never blinking, never shifting. “Our gardener found you unconscious and we had him bring you to us,” then, leaning in closer, a wide grin spread across her face. “We know you’re the one the big lady is looking for.” Her voice took on a singsong quality.

Your lips parted, eyes widening in shock. Before you could question how the doll knew, she cut you off.

“She called us a few hours ago – what a surprise that was. You must be really special if Lady Dimitrescu is willing to go to such lengths for a pet.” The final word was spat out with venom, clearly intended to degrade you.

The doll tilted her head with a soft creak, the grin on her painted face almost stretching wider, as though it might split her porcelain face in two.

“Oh, and guess what?” she cooed, her sickly-sweet voice dripping with mockery. “The big lady is already on her way here. I sent our gardener to go fetch her. She’s been out there looking for you,” she giggled, a high-pitched, grating sound that made your skin crawl. “She’ll be so pleased to see you.” Leaning in again, her unblinking glassy eyes seemed to pierce right through you. “Or maybe not. That depends on how much trouble you’ve caused her, doesn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse spiking in fear.

“She’s coming?” You whispered, your mouth dry as dust.

The doll laughed again, sharp and unsettling, like shards of glass scraping together. “Oh yes!”

Lady Beneviento remained motionless, but you could feel her gaze on you. The thought of returning to Lady Dimitrescu washed over you like a cold wave of panic.

“No…” You murmured, the word trembling from your lips, barely more than a breath.

You tried to rise from the couch, but your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing to the floor. The lingering effects of whatever had been forced into you in that garden still clouded your senses, leaving you weak and dizzy.

“No, I can’t go back to her... I can’t!” You yelled, your breath coming in frantic, shallow bursts. The fear of what she might do to you, what she would do, twisted in your stomach, nearly suffocating you.

The doll let out a cackle. “You’re so silly!”

Lady Beneviento suddenly appeared in your line of sight, bending down to slip her hands beneath your arms. Her touch, unexpectedly gentle, steadied you as she carefully lifted you off the floor and placed you back onto the couch.

“Stay.” Her voice was low and husky, like it hadn’t been used in some time. Yet, it still carried a commanding weight.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat at the unexpected sound of her voice.

Just as the silence settled, a sharp knock echoed throughout the living room, startling you. Lady Beneviento’s posture stiffened for just a moment, her head snapping toward the door. Wordlessly, she rose and walked toward it. When she opened it, you caught a fleeting glimpse of who you assumed was her gardener – a tall, older man, his face etched with years of labor. He muttered something, but the words were lost to you from where you lay. Lady Beneviento gave a subtle nod in response, her demeanor as stoic and detached as ever.

This time, you definitely heard what the gardener said as his voice lifted just slightly. “She’s in here.”

The instant those words hit your ears; a wave of pure dread shot through your body. Your heart thundered in your chest; each beat fueled by terror. Then, as if summoned by your fear, a long, white fur coat swept into view. You couldn’t believe it. She was actually here.

It wasn’t fair. You had barely escaped Lady Dimitrescu’s grasp, and now, somehow, you found yourself back in her clutches once more.

Tears stung your eyes as you instinctively shrank back, the reality of your situation sinking in. You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back the wave of emotion threatening to break free. You were going back. Back to the castle, to the nightmare you had desperately hoped to leave behind. Lady Dimitrescu ducked under the doorway, then rose to her full, imposing height.

And in that moment, her golden eyes zeroed in on you.

The gaze she fixed upon you was laced with fury, a simmering anger that seethed beneath the surface – but there was more, something deeper, a quiet, unmistakable disappointment. She closed the distance between you in long, purposeful strides, her presence growing until she towered over you.

“You truly thought you could leave me?” Her voice was deceptively calm, though the edge in her words sliced deep. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find you, pet?”

You tried to muster something to say – an excuse, a plea – but no words came.

Lady Beneviento lingered in the background, silent and unmoving. You stole a glance at her, and for reasons you couldn't quite grasp, you found yourself hoping for some sort of intervention. But she merely watched, as if she were observing the unfolding scene with the detached calm of someone waiting for an inevitable storm to pass.

Lady Dimitrescu crouched slightly, her long, sharp nails grazing your chin as she guided your face to meet her penetrating gaze. Her eyes narrowed as they locked onto the small cut marring your cheek. A flicker of something dark passed through them, an intensity so fierce it threatened to steal your breath.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice low and rich, vibrating with menace. “And I don’t take kindly to losing what’s mine.”

The tears you had fought so hard to suppress finally slipped free, and she smirked, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Then, Lady Dimitrescu's strong arms encircled you, lifting you effortlessly as though you weighed nothing at all. You let out a small squeak, struggling weakly against her hold, but it was no use. She cradled you in her arms like a helpless child, your body pressed against hers in a way that was both unnervingly intimate and suffocating. The scent of her – lavender mingling with some sweet orange – clung to you and your stomach churned in protest.

“No... please.” You whimpered.

“Be quiet.” Lady Dimitrescu hissed, her words sharp and cold.

Her grip tightened, her long fingers digging into your back, as though she feared you might vanish again if she loosened her hold even slightly. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed in the tense silence as she turned toward Lady Beneviento, inclining her head in a rare gesture of respect.

“Thank you, Donna. As always, your assistance is greatly appreciated.”

Lady Beneviento didn’t respond but the doll piped up. “You’re welcome!”

Lady Dimitrescu gave a brief nod to the gardener, who stood rigidly by the doorway, his gaze fixed on her with unease. Without sparing him another glance, she turned and ducked through the doorway, her grip on you unwavering as she held you close in her arms.

The cold night air hit your skin as she stepped outside, and you shuddered involuntarily.

“You had me worried sick,” Lady Dimitrescu's voice came, low and tight with frustration, yet tinged with something else, something softer. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. You’re far too important to me for that.”

Her concern left you disoriented. You had never imagined she was capable of such worry – not for you, at least.

“I –” You started, your voice cracking, but she silenced you with a glare that left no room for argument.

“Don’t,” Lady Dimitrescu interrupted, her tone icy but no longer furious. “You’ve already said enough by running.”

Her hold on you tightened even more.

“I’ll deal with you properly once we return,” Lady Dimitrescu stated flatly. “For now, you will remain silent.”

As she carried you through the forest, you couldn’t help but feel like a prize being returned to its pedestal, trapped once more in the gilded cage you had once fought so desperately to escape from.

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 48: In Which Devil's Come Out To Play

::UNDER 18? DO NOT INTERACT. This chapter contains material NOT SUITED for you::

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/156263629

Alcina had been silently basking in the bliss of having you in her arms, fast asleep in her bed, while the radiant power of your blood thrummed still very happily through her veins for some time now. She could think of nothing more she wanted in this moment than the feel of your warmth, the scent of you, and the utter calm she had longed for far too many long years to count, now finally within her grasp.

At least, for a short while.

She wasn't sure the exact time but assumed the minutes were ticking towards the impending mayhem that lie outside the manor.

But, that would be then; this was now, and oh, she had other ideas in mind for how she wished the spend these last remaining moments of heaven.

Your back was pressed to her front, her strong arm encompassing your middle with such reverence, nose nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and her long legs now bending to lock you into her body closer. Your little mews of waking made her lips tug into the most pleased smirk. She closed her eyes and buried her face further to your neck and kissed the exposed skin feather light at first, then a little deeper and a little deeper; her arm around your front pulling you impossibly close. Alcina let her hand explore, her long fingers mapping your outlines as she lured you into a something of a trance, sensing how you were still on the precipice of sleep yet conscious enough to hum your satisfaction as she continued.

Deft fingertips traced increasingly dangerous patterns into your skin until a palm cupped a breast and squeezed lovingly, slowly kneading the plush flesh, accompanied by a low and sensual purr. Alcina could feel and hear your heartbeat quicken, even if just a little, and she kissed your neck even deeper.

When her hand released your breast and trailed down your languid form, Alcina pressed her lips to the shell of your ear and licked it tenderly. You moaned softly, she grinned.

"Draga mea," she whispered so gentle, her hand finally reaching between your legs that were spreading more than willingly, "the things I want to do to you..." the husk in her voice disguised itself as a yearning whine, her fingers finding your heat, eliciting that choked moan from you she couldn't get enough of, "the sounds I want to hear from you..." she coaxed even quieter as she stroked between your thighs almost painfully slow, "the many, many ways I want to make love to you..." her voice hummed, circling the very swollen nub at her fingertip agonizingly slow causing your body to quake, "ravish you like I never have before; if only, to make it clear," she kissed the quickly heating column of your neck, "how much I never want to be away from you any longer."

When the pressure of Alcina's finger left your pulsing clit and slid, none too soon, to your core and pressed inside, you were unable to keep the short gasp within you silent. Something about being lost in the hub of exhaustion yet awake enough to feel so much, had you teetering on sensations you'd never experienced before. And with Alcina's gloriously sex-drenched voice to lead you, you know you'd be falling into an oblivion like never before soon enough.

Content to let her do as she pleased, you allowed yourself be limp for her to command, and Alcina, a woman who knew what she wanted, took complete control.

She shifted with such grace; now flat on your back, Alcina used her body to pin your completely undefiant self to the mattress as her lips now latched to your throat, kissing hard and deep sending wave after wave of quivers down your body, the electricity landing in your hips, your joints sparking with so much from so little. You were breathily surrendering as her fingers, deliberate at first, now found a deeper stronger rhythm and you felt the heat soar across your skin and deep in your core.

"Uh-ohh..." Your tiny gasp fluttered into the otherwise silent air.

Alcina moaned into your neck now, the arousal in your pheromones filling her vampiric lungs with a quenching breath. She pressed the pad of her palm to your clit as her fingers stayed deep inside the hot, soaked warmth of your sex, using her leverage from this angle to press up and pull, caressing that spot that caused you such sweet pressure while keeping the massage on your bud in perfect tandem. She felt you shudder hard, the accompanying gasps and heave from your chest making this oh so thrilling. Normally she would have had you screaming and crying out in pleasure by now, but you were still caught just enough in sleeps' clutches that this made it all the more invigorating for the both of you; too tired to make much noise, absolutely enveloped in the heightened yet slightly numb sensations, and 100% at ease and trust to let your vampire take you to whatever ends.

As the sound of your slick arousal now began to make the most delicious sounds from Alcina's deftly working hand, she could smell the nearness of your completion, feel it in your bones, the telling way your chest and breath heaved shallow and hungrily. She pressed her lips to your ear and took your lobe into her mouth, suckling, relishing in a much more pronounced whine from you. Alcina could only chuckle eerily deep within her chest before she propped herself slightly up, hooking her leg under yours and pulled you open for her, using it to rock her hand deeper and deeper into you.

You forced your eyes open to see her looming over you in the near pitch black of the room, but you could see her; her paleness, the dark curled locks framing the beauty of her face that was intent and locked within everything that was you in this moment, and the sight knocked the air from you. Shaky, weak arms grasped for her body as you felt the careening orgasm start to erupt from your core. 

"Alcina." You whimpered as it finally took hold and you pulled her down on you, trying to stifle your moans in her hair as this new, wobbly, effervescent type of orgasm engulfed you.

Oh it was rich. Perfectly overwhelming. Not like otherwise raging wildfire type passion you usually shared; it was soft and tender yet just as wholly enthralling.

Just as Alcina was pulling you through every last bit of your pleasure, you felt the sharp prick of her teeth in your shoulder and you groaned at this most perfect ending, or beginning, to the day ahead.

You must have passed out shortly after, for all you could recall before amber light filled the room was the heavy pressure of all of Alcina's weight settling down on you, then darkness.

Fluttering your eyes open, you noticed the faux fireplace at the far end of her room had been lit and there she was, drenched in a flowing silken black robe that was embellished with the most delicate lace you'd ever seen, stalking her way towards you.

She'd already done her make up and looked as radiant as she could possibly be. You smiled, she did the same.

"Dragoste, just in time." She cooed, taking perch on your side of the bed, stroking your face lovingly.

"Mm?" You replied lazily, "is it time to go already?"

Alcina's smile grew wider, her sharp teeth shimmering passed her blood-red lips, "not yet, within an hour or so. How are you feeling?"

You snorted at the proud tone in her voice, "you have to ask?" You countered, "with a wake-up call like that, who couldn't be in great spirits?"

"Well," your vampire cooed, leaning down to claim your lips in a sweet kiss, "we'll have much more fun than that later, that I promise you," she kissed you again and again, "come, I've made you some tea."

The smile on your face got bigger as you watched her leave towards the chez lounge and coffee table, rising and ruffling yourself awake, "mmm, what kind?"

"Blood orange."

Containing your snicker was hard.

"Ironic, I know - but purely coincidental, I promise," she shot you a look and a wink, "besides I recall seeing a box in your cupboard and assumed it was something you like, no?"

You just shook your head and finally rose to join her, taking the beautiful little white and lovely blue flowered cup with a gold lip in your hands as she handed it to you, "yes, I love it, thank you."

Alcina rubbed your arms lovingly, her eyes glimmering the same emotion down on you, "now, relax, I'm going to get dressed."

As she disappeared into her walk-in closet, you sat on the chez and let the tea drizzle down your throat. 

"What uh, what should I wear?" You called to her as thought about your wardrobe, "I didn't bring a dress, cause honestly that felt a little weird? But I did bring two of my business suits from work, they're not much but they are tidy and professional. Everything is kind of my usual causal looks, frumpy stuff for here at the manor only, but - "

Everything stopped. 

Time. Thoughts. Your breath.

Everything.

Alcina sauntered out of the closet wearing that dress. 

The one she wore on that fateful night you met; when in the dreadful sea of black and grey and dark, she was the only one wearing white. 

Your heart sputtered. The flashbacks of that night and everything that followed overwhelming you on so many levels, none of them bad.

She had not yet seen your reaction as she was fumbling with her cabriole and a very special pair of black leather gloves as she meandered out, "oh draga, nothing you own is frumpy; I would say wear what is most - " her eyes looked up then to see you in an almost petrified state, not of fear, but of something she couldn't place, "draga, what is it?" Alcina asked quickening her pace towards you, dropping the items on the coffee table as she went to reach for you.

Sitting beside you, one hand pressed concernedly to your thigh as she raked you over with her eyes, you finally took a breath and swallowed, "y-you..." you stammered, "you were wearing this the night we met... do you remember?"

Realization struck her none too ceremoniously and her thoughts took off on a tangent of their own, worrying perhaps this was not a good memory, that the dress made you feel vulnerable and scared, perhaps as you had that night, which she could not blame you for one bit - 

"You look... absolutely stunning!"

Oh, thank gods.

Alcina took a relieved breath and watched that facade of unknown fall from you as you smiled wide at her, your eager fingers reaching for the fabric to trace the gathered midsection.

You couldn't lie, something about her in this sent a hoard of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Yes, she was stunning all the time, but something about the fit of this dress on her curves, the cut and style making her already towering self appear even taller, the stark contrast of this shade of white against her nearly greyish skin and the ebony black of her hair to the crimson on her lips, the deepness of those slate colored eyes - god! She was an absolute masterpiece in this dress. If only your fucking mouth would work so you could tell her.

"I..." you tried, studying the dark goddess before you as you remembered her from that first night, feeling almost light-headed, your glimmering eyes found hers and you smiled weakly, "sorry, you make my brain go brrrr."

Alcina tossed her head back and laughed out loud, returning the loving gaze at you and cupped your face with utter sincerity, "I have been complimented more times in my life than I care to admit, which I state without ego, and yet you are the one to melt my heart with such a... simple, honest phrase!"

You chuckled back at her and rolled your eyes, "listen, you blew my literal mind and body first thing this morning, then you walk out of the closet looking like this, how do you expect me to form a coherent thought."

"Ohhh draga mea," she giggled, "I love you, I love you so much. But I mean it, that is one of the best things anyone has ever said to me."

Accepting her kiss through the shared laughter between you, you couldn't help but feel all the more empowered and slightly excited for the day. You would be on the arm of The Matriarch; a matriarch dressed like a Grecian goddess.

As the two of you were finally ready about 45 minutes later, you were making one last glance over in her vanity mirror to make sure you were put together. Yes, this would have to do.

You had settled on one of your favorite suit from work. A form fitting black blazer, a very chic cream colored blouse with a loose neck, and perfectly fitting trousers to go along with it. Since Alcina was wearing heels, you also opted for your 1 inch black pumps instead of your black and white Chucks. Not that it made much of a difference, but hey, some height was better than none.

Alcina eyed you with a hunger and her remark about getting out of the manor before her thoughts won over, was the last thing you heard as she drug you out of the bedroom. You chuckled.

The girls were up and about, very obviously by the blaring of music coming from the kitchen. The tune was unmistakable and you knew it as the 'Numa Numa' song. It's rightful title was 'Dragostea Din Tei', a Romanian pop song that came into bizarre popularity in the early 2000's, and you had a really hard time keeping a straight face as you and Alcina rounded the corner to find Daniella having an absolute blast mouthing along to it.

Not feeling the similar vibes as her daughter, Alcina rolled her eyes accompanied by a grumble, "gods - Daniella, turn that ridiculous song off."

"But mama!"

Alcina sighed, "this has been on repeat in this house for weeks!" She sighed, falling far too easily for Dani's pouty face, "f-fine - at least turn it down then! I will never forgive Heisenberg for that bloody iPod and speaker duo he gave you for your birthday."

Bela came flitting in from the side hall and placed a tender hand on her mothers arm, "Mother, Auntie Donna is on the phone, she's asked to speak with you urgently."

Another sigh, "alright," Alcina said caressing your arm and leaving you with a wink, "I'll be right back draga." 

Bela flashed you a smile as her mother left, "can I get you anything?"

"Oh, no thank you, I'm fine." You said returning the smile, feeling then an unnerving gaze on you from behind.

Cassandra was coming up to you almost instantly afterwards, "you're wearing that?" She stated flatly almost more than she asked.

A wave of complete uncertainty smacked as you looked down at your attire and back up to her, "uh, yeah? Why? Is this not ok?"

"Mmm." The brunette mused tugging at the sleeve of your blazer.

"Your mom liked it, she said it was fine." 

"My mothers opinion bares no weight in the situation because the woman is blinded by infatuation."

You looked at her blankly.

Cassandra smiled defeatedly and grabbed your arm, "c'mere. Just trust me."

And before you could reply she was guiding you down into the other end of the house to her room. You were nervous but simultaneously curios as hell as to what was happening.

Cassandra didn't close the door as she lead you into her room, but she left you standing there by her own vanity, much the same as Alcina's, as she darted off to her closet and disappeared between the double mirrored doors.

"What size shoe do you wear?" Her voice called from inside.

"8." You replied, now admiring her room much more so since you'd originally been given the two-cent tour the other day. 

It was drenched it purples and dark reds, lots of gold and silver, and spoke loudly of her tastes. She had decorative, or you assumed to be, swords and daggers hanging on the walls, along with paintings of landscapes and lots of shelves lined with candles and incense sticks. Her queen-sized bed had a black comforter and the pillow cases were crimson, the throw pillows royal purple, and the four-posters were cascaded in shimmery black lace. Yeah, you liked her style. Off to one corner was what appeared to be a black leather couch that had books and art supplies strewn about it and the glass coffee table in front of it, the neighboring bookshelf was overflowing with books and trinkets and what looked like vinyl records. You imagined if you'd known her in her human days, you would have likely made friends.

"Alright," Cassandra said airily as she finally emerged from her closet, "yes, I know my mother likes your outfit - yes, I'm sure this is what you're used to wearing - however, you are not in the human world today. Not even close. So, don't take offense but for this council meeting you're going to be part of, you do NOT want to go in looking like that."

You looked back down to yourself one last time, "is it really that bad?"

She giggled, "no not at all, but you're not meeting with crusty-ass human CEO's, you're meeting with vampires."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, and the fact that she was chuckling with you made your nerves settle immensely.

"Ok, so," Cassandra began, handing you the handful of clothes she brought out, "I think I have a good guess of your size and this stuff should fit nicely. Go change into these behind the pingfeng and I'll put this corset on you when you get done." She could tell by the look on your face the corset part had you concerned, "don't worry, it's not hella tight, it just an under-bust cincher that gives you a nice shape." 

Her reassurance worked a little and you did as you were told.

Cassandra had picked you out a flowing, deep burgundy skirt with a hitched left side that draped down to a long right side. The burgundy ombre'd into black at the bottom, and it had a black lace-up cinch waist that left the strings cascading down the side where it tied. It fit perfectly and the fabric was extremely soft. She'd also chosen a matching burgundy taffeta peasant blouse that hung almost off your shoulders with its loose front and back, the dip in the neckline boarding on risqué for you but you trusted her decisions. As you stepped around from the pingfeng, Cassandra's face beamed happily and you did your best to just go with the process.

"Yes, good, this works," she muttered walking over to you, black Victorian laced corset in hand, "turn around."

Before you knew it, the corset was in place and it was indeed as comfortable as she said it would be. Made you feel like you gained an inch with your straightened posture. Suddenly you were being ushered in the direction of the double mirrors on Cassandra's closet doors and her beaming face appeared over your shoulder as she admired her work.

"Mmhm! Yeah, this fits you nicely!"

You couldn't really argue. You looked like a dark fae; you felt like a fae; and that was kind of empowering for the first time since you'd come into all of this.

"Now, we gotta fix the makeup, at least a little - this muted desk job look doesn't do the outfit justice. Come sit."

Cassandra grabbed her arm and drug you to her vanity and plopped you down, scoured over your face thoughtfully and once again you were feeling scrutinized even though you knew very well that was not her intention. You couldn't help it; old habits die hard.

She turned sharply and went through a drawer and pulled some things out, her precise decisions made you smile a little as the situation still couldn't have felt more foreign, even if it was nice. Cassandra was bristly, you weren't sure she even liked you that much, but this must mean she at least didn't hate you.

"So, not that it's any of my business," she began, settling down in front of you with a brush in her hand and a compact in the other, "but I'm making it my business because that's my job - now, I know this world is new and I'm sure freaky to you, but you need to remember you are not human. You are not weak. And you are not to be trifled with."

Her hazel eyes found yours as she finished applying powder under your cheekbones.

"Don't let any of them walk all over you, because I assure you, some will. Consider it a pissing match between vampires just as much as it would be between, I dunno, politicians in the humans world," she went on, grabbing an eyeliner and making you close your eyes, "don't play the game and just be confident in who you are, ok? I don't think you realize how strong you are, but I also don't consider you to be meek, you're just unsure of yourself and you shouldn't be."

Her hands were cool as she applied the eyeliner and eyeshadow and you listened intently as she went on, not wanting to chime in and just let her say what she needed, almost enjoying the fact she was giving you what seemed to be a pep talk.

"My mother a fucking force to be reckoned with, yeah, duh; she's six feet nine inches tall and will rip anyone's face off if she feels like it, but - " she paused, reaching for a lip color, "her brutal fierceness is loud, you don't have to be so don't feel that pressure, just be you. Unabashedly you. You're pretty cool. And I know you're powerful, we all do, so you should know it and present like it."

You tried to keep your face as neutral as possible. You weren't used to being built up, and of all of the sisters to take this on, she was the furthest from your imagination. But you nodded as she finished with your lips and smiled softly.

"Thanks," you said, "I really appreciate that... it's weird going from being a complete nobody to some kind of mythical creature, ya know?"

Cassandra chuckled, "I kind of get it. Granted I don't have most of my human memories, but yeah, it's a fucking game changer for sure. Now, go take a look at yourself."

Another nod and a deep breath, you rose and walked to the mirror once more.

"The power of an outfit and some make-up, huh?" Cassandra hummed, "sometimes it's fun to put your power on the outside too. You look pretty badass, if I do say so myself."

It was thrilling to take in. Yes, you dressed up. Yes, you enjoyed going out on the town dressed to the nine's, but this was a nice fit for the new you that had apparently always been you to begin with. You kinda digged the gothic-fae look. Your features were accentuated with finesse thanks to Cassandra, and yes, it did make you feel more confident.

"Thank you, seriously. I look completely new."

Cassandra beamed, "you're welcome. Now put those six inch boots on and go be awesome. And don't let any of those fucks step on your toes."

You balked, "six?"

Another wicked grin, "just kidding, they're like five and a half. Just trying to give you the benefit of the doubt with my skyscraper of a mother."

When you returned to the kitchen, Alcina was still missing but Bela and Daniella were huddled at the counter sipping blood-wine over a busy pen and paper. 

Daniella noticed you first and grabbed for it and slipped it into her lap, "h-hi," she grinned, her eyes getting huge as she noticed the change, "wow, we wondered what Cass was doing back there and damn! You look awesome!"

Bela smiled brightly and rose off the stool, "this is a really nice look for you, it suits you," she offered coming towards you, eying the outfit, "mother had to make a quick exit to the council hall, Donna's orders, but she told me to escort you there when you made it out of the clutches of my sister."

You blushed, "no clutches involved," you laughed, "but don't worry about me, I can manage getting myself there, thanks for letting me know though."

"Alright. Well don't stress about today," Bela reassured, "mother will take good care of you as will everyone else from our city, not that you have much to worry about protecting yourself anyway." She winked.

These girls sure had more faith in you than you did, but you were happy to have the votes of confidence, "hah, thanks I appreciate it. I'll see you all later."

Goodbyes were exchanged and on jittery legs you left the manor and headed for City Hall.

Cassandra appeared moments after you left with a book in hand as she mindlessly made her way to the cabinet for a glass.

"You're gunna give mother a heart-attack with that outfit you put on her." Daniella mused.

Cassandra, not looking up once, grabbed a glass and headed for the open bottle of wine on the counter, "that was half the plan."

Bela sighed, "you're rotten."

~

The city was bustling with vampires now, a complete 180 from the silent ghost town you'd encountered when you got here yesterday. The majority of vampires and lycans you passed that noticed you nodded, and offered you a slight bow. Engaging in returning the actions was getting a little cumbersome as you tried to make haste to find Alcina, but it was weirdly empowering to be shown respect in the same fashion they gave with Alcina.

Angie found you in the sea of people the closer you got the City Hall and you were being enthusiastically drug in the opposite direction from the front doors. Angie took you through a side entrance that led to a short hall and conglomeration of smaller rooms, shoving you through a door briskly, you were met by Donna, Alcina, and Sylvia.

Alcina's face hid none of her very pleased surprise at your new attire and you couldn't help but smile sheepishly. Luckily there was little time to explain as Donna, brilliant smile in tow, came to give you a hug.

"It's so wonderful to have you back," she said brightly, "try your best to excuse the madness."

Donna gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she went back to Sylvia, who nodded reverently to you, and dove back into whatever they were discussing.

Alcina, with a look of a prowling beast on her face, glided slowly towards you with an eyebrow sharply raised.

She leaned into your ear as one arm snaked around your now cinched waist, "draga mea... this is not what you were wearing when I left you..." she growled sensually, "I don't know how you suppose I am to focus when you look like this, knowing how easily accessible you are in this skirt."

Shivers threw themselves down your whole body and you tried to keep your eyes from rolling so obviously into the back of your skull, but you grabbed her arm for support and swallowed, "this was not my doing," you admitted carefully, "Cassandra thought I needed a change of appearance."

Alcina kissed the shell of your ear and kept her whisper just as low as before, "I will ground her later, and you're ground to my room the moment we step foot back inside the manor, and you will stay tied to my bed for as long as I see fit for your punishment... you scrumptious woman of mine."

"Ahem."

Donna's voice shattered the tensely, inappropriate heated moment and Alcina, nonchalantly as could be, slowly pulled away from you but kept her arm secured tightly around your waist, "yes?"

With a look of slight exasperation, Donna cleared her throat, "Sylvia and I are finished, shall we head in?"

The Council Hall was filled to the brim with voices. 

As you followed Alcina through the threshold, you realized things looked quite a bit different. The stone table that was normally a long rectangle had two half moon additions added to each side to make an almost perfect circle, the extra space allowing room for the new attendees; the seven clan leaders, as well as the resident leaders. Dmitri and several others from Alcina and Karl's armies were standing off to the sides of the room discussing amongst themselves as the council members were scavenging through a slew of photographs, journals, loose papers, and random objects, all of which you didn't recognize, aside from one. That famed and wretched dagger Miranda has crafted and used on Alcina was in the middle of the table. Old blood stains and all. Your eyes shot up to Alcina as she seemed to see it at the exact moment you had; she kept her composure perfectly, but you noticed the ever so subtle shift in her stance and twitch at the corner of her eyes and mouth. You were about to reach for her but she cleared her throat loudly and approached the table.

All eyes shot up, all speaking ceased, and all attention now lay on the both of you.

"May I present," came Dmitri's voice from the sidelines, strong and commanding, "The Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, Matriarch of the Shadowed Dominion, and her companion..."

You'd never been presented like this, ever, in all of your life. And it felt so damn weird hearing your name announced so regally, especially from someone as revered a Dmitri.

"The Fae." He finished, dropping his arm, bowing to the both of you. Reverent nods and bows followed from everyone in the room. As he rose, he came towards you and stood at your side, waving his arm in the same fashion as he had just a moment ago, "and may I introduce to you our underworlds fellow leaders," Dmitri waved to the woman first on the right, "Marguerite Beaumont, of the Knights of Dark..."

Marguerite had a bold, auburn color to her hair; the slight curl of her mid-length, very thick mane framed her pale face which was gaunt and serious looking. Her eyes were a bright grey like blue, lips thin and stern, and her chin was short but pointy. Her jaw either seemed to be permanently clenched or she was just gifted with a prominent square and bitchy frame of face. Aside from her attitude written clearly on her facade, one would say she might be pretty. She wore a cloak a lovely shade of forest green, underneath you could see gold embellishments on what looked to be a very finely made moss-colored dress.

Dmitri continued, "Ishaan Yadav, leader of the Moonlight Bearers..."

Ishaan was handsome; shoulder-length hair as black as shadows and eyes just a deep. His facial hair was primly kept; outlining his jaw, chin, and upper lip that gave his features a grand and elegant appearance. The deep ocean blue with hints of silver stitching of his clearly custom made, and extravagant, tuxedo brought the dark bronze of his skin to life, accentuating his smirk and otherwise calm demeanor. He held a certain command in his presence but he seemed approachable and somehow warm.

"The Eternal Dominion's leader, Belinda Holland..."

Belinda wore a merlot colored trench coat over a black turtleneck that made her already square shoulders even broader. Her hair was a faint blonde with darker roots, done up in a loose braided bun at the base of her neck. She didn't look as severe as Marguerite, but she held a staunch appearance with wide cheekbones and a soft mouth. She sat very still and barely moved her head, but her bright brown eyes were scouring the room with vigilance in a silent yet clear demonstration of her awareness.

"Emiliano Banegas, of the Kiss of Shadows..."

Emiliano was a brooding man. While Marguerite and Belinda held a certain sternness, he seemed to hold no other emotion behind his than just that. His hair was a deep chestnut, long, thick, and tied in a loose ponytail with a mere thread. He had no facial hair and his skin was fair and yet held a hue of depth. His eyes were hazel, from what you could tell, and he gave very little from his pouty lips that matched the emotionless facade he bore. He wore a sharp, tailored and well pressed auburn vest over his cream colored tunic, with pearl buttons and cufflinks. He was striking, yet oddly muted at the same time.

"Verona Giordano, leader of the Nightfall Legion..."

Ah yes, and then there was Verona; she reminded you of a taller, more robust Donna in a way. Her hair was very long, easily passed the middle of her back, and the salt and pepper of it made you wonder how old she was when she was turned and how old she might be now. Most every other vampire, outside of Dmitri, looked much younger. But she had striking emerald eyes, a poised set of lips that sat in a nearly constant state of silent judgement, and muted olive skin that made her look almost as haunting as Alcina. You could tell right off she was not one to be fucked with. She wore a sheer black shawl over her hair, wrapped loosely under her chin and over her shoulder, and a deep purple, high-necked dress that shimmered just right in the light giving it a silver hue. 

"La Bella Damned's, Pablo De La Rosa..."

Pablo was as pale as Alcina, though he had fiery eyes like burnt amber. His short hair was also black and it brought out his chiseled features with sharpness. His mustache and goatee were thin and well kept, cheekbones high and cheeks almost a little too hollow, but his smile was full of mischief and he didn't seem to be free of it since you all entered the room. His attire wasn't loud, but it wasn't quiet either. He wore a black, high-collared blazer with a fire-orange silk shirt underneath with an odd shaped pendant hanging between the buttons undone on his chest. You had no doubt he was the character Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela explained him to be.

Dmitri straightened his back and took a breath, "and, Auguste Winter of the Fallen Devil's."

Lastly, Auguste, who was easily your least favorite person in the room for no other reason than a queasiness in your gut, sat at the farthest end. He was tall, sharp shouldered, rigid, and somehow childish looking. He had ashy blond hair and no facial hair to go with it. It was short. Cut and styled with a starkness. His eyes were a much deeper blue than you'd seen before, and his lips were thin and slightly bent. He wore a deep gold, high-collared pea coat with bright crimson embellishments, a similarly red shirt underneath giving the whole attire a haughty vibe that the others didn't come close to possessing. His twisted smile at Alcina did much the same to your stomach. 

Alright, well. Introductions had been made. The shuffling in the room echoed loudly with your internal chatter about hoping to remember everyone's names; last thing you wanted was to look like a fool and you did want to leave a decent impression - 

"Well," Marguerite's tinny statement began catching everyone off-guard, "she certainly doesn't look like much - for a fae, I suppose." She commented, not looking at you of course, but instead directly at Alcina.

That certainly quieted the room.

And speaking of first impressions, if this was how she was choosing to start, you figured you may as well get your strike in with this Marguerite before she settled in the idea she could disrespect you out the gate. Cassandra had given you more confidence this morning than perhaps you were used to possessing; maybe it was the outfit, or maybe her unexpected belief in you, but you would do as she had reminded you and not forget who and what you were.

Before Alcina's anger could pop to the surface in your defense, you spoke; "they say those with true power don't have to put on heirs."

While you watched without any emotion at all as Marguerite's facade hid none of her sourness at your unexpected rebuttal, from your peripheral you could see Alcina's pride-drenched smirk as she turned her head to look at you. Karl was laughing without subtleness, Dmitri shuffled on his feet at your side, and you caught Donna on the other side of the table rubbing an eyebrow anxiously.

"Oh I like you."

Came a much needed break in tension.

Pablo was grinning from ear to ear at you as he tapped his glassine nails on the stone table, "I knew the minute you walked through that door I was going to like you!" His glittering eyes flashed, "it is such a pleasure to meet someone with a bloodline belonging to the fae. I have heard they're fiery and profound, and quite rare in the world these days; you are doing your kind a great service by sticking to that... how can I call it..." He paused tilting his head slightly up to the ceiling, deep in thought, "unique sharp tongue." He finished pointedly, gazing at you again.

Alcina's eyeroll was so loud you didn't even need to see it under the brim of her hat.

His polished accent complimented his entire demeanor a little too well and you simply nodded politely at his comment, unsure how to respond.

"Pablo, caro incantatore," Verona chimed in with a sigh, tossing her gaze from Alcina, to you, back to the flirtatious gaze of the vampire in question, "please." (Pablo, dear charmer,)

"What?" He shrugged impossibly innocent, laying on the accent, "a compliment! Marguerite is still speechless - a feat in itself! She deserves the praise!"

Marguerite scoffed pointedly, "what should I care to defend my comment from an indignant response? Look at her," she flicked her wrist in your general direction, "under all that garb, I see nothing but fragility."

You were definitely feeling some heat rushing under your skin and you were right on the precipice to let loose another retort, but a robust snort from a fired-up Karl Heisenberg shifted everyone's focus.

"Ffffft, fragile - chyeah - like a fucking bomb!" He spat as he approached the table, pulling something from an adjacent bag, forcing his way between the seated lycans on his side of the table, flopped what looked like a tablet on the table and tapped the screen dramatically.

The blackness lit up; slightly grainy footage began of you and Karl in a familiar corridor where you'd ran into that mutant you helped him take down with your power. It was a short clip but it was enough for everyone to see you crumpling the mutant from his attack on Karl for him to land the final blow. There was a collected bunch of 'hm's' and whispered comments shared until Karl spoke out again.

"And that's fuckin' nothin'; the show-down between hot shot here, Miranda, and Lady D was really something to behold! Maybe get your facts before spouting off?"

The churning on Marguerite's face wasn't pleasant to watch, luckily it got no further as Alcina, bemused and a little perturbed, propped both her hands on her hips and sucked in a sharp breath through her nose.

"Heisenberg," she almost hissed, "you were going to tell me about cameras being installed in the underground... when?" Alcina allowed herself a most forced smile at him, her eyes beaming with an unspoken 'what the fuck'.

"Eventually," Karl answered with emphasis, "I've, ya know, been a little busy? You've been busy, we've all been busy - it's been a little hectic? Besides I didn't catch anything of interest until the actual invasion started, so - "

A loud hrmph sounded in the opposite direction and Marguerite was shaking her head, "let a dog off its leash... this is what you get."

Oh god.

"Listen here you French fried fuck!" Karl shot back, pointing his rigid finger at the redhead about to spout off in what would no doubt be unchecked, well manicured insults.

But Alcina guffawed loudly, and it was the most beautiful sound had the circumstances been entirely different.

Your eyes went wide without your control, everyone looked to the Matriarch who was now laughing without hesitation of any kind. No one knew what this reaction was about to end with. Sitting on bated breath as Alcina's outburst was slowly waning, almost everyone remained still and pensive, almost.

A sharp slap of hand to the stone table cut the palpable tension for the third or fourth time in easily less than ten minutes, and now all eyes had flipped back to Marguerite.

"Have you absolutely lost yourself?" She seethed at Alcina.

Taking a deep breath with a smile remaining on her face, Alcina lifted her gaze to the woman and chuckled once more, "no my dearest Marguerite, I am unapologetically myself these days."

"How dare you! Mother Miranda's death does not negate a complete lack of respect on your end! Remember your place!"

The shrill sound of her voice left a tinny echo in everyone's ears but the ever shifting tilt in tension at one end of the table to the next was making you dizzy. Alcina straightened her posture with such sharpness you actually took a very small and hopefully unnoticeable step to the side, feeling the spark of her wrath overturn the lightness in her from moments ago.

Her slate-colored eyes went dark and Alcina's mouth went rigid as she placed her palms flat on the table and leered at the woman at the end of her sight, "I think that it is perhaps you that should remember your place! Mother Miranda's death negates that I no longer have to sit here silently and take your snotty bullshit like a good little girl any longer - in fact - Mother Miranda's death, which so happened to fall by my hand, gives me the right to step foot in her place, meaning I get to make the fucking rules now! So, dear Marguerite, would you care to switch up your fucking tone or does this have to get bloody? You're in my house - my territory - and your history for being a cunt at any given time on anyone's turf comes to an end. Today."

Silence.

You could not be certain whether fighting and taking down Mother Miranda was more or less stressful than this meeting, if you could call it a meeting, you were in. You still didn't fully understand how vampires and lycans operated on the whole spectrum, but you felt like things had changed drastically on all fronts since Alcina killed Miranda, and you did not know if that meant rules of civility were now out the window all-together and if these vampires would fall in line or you'd be launched into the middle of another bloodbath.

The stare-down between the two woman came to and end when Pablo, smooth as a palm stone, changed the course of the whole situation with one comment.

"So, I hear there's some kind of macabre battle room Mother Miranda crafted down here... when can we see that?"

[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

[sucker-for-blondes]

My designs for the reader, lunatic and the watcher from "to promise the moon" @valleynix - author

I took some inspo from your designs and took some elements like the scars, clothes and face expression :3

Reader: in chapter 24 it is said they have a worry or angsty expression. Like they're waiting for something to happen. Also they're not on their best condition so their cheekbones are much more sunken/prominent.

I also put the lovely necklace from our beautiful dani :3 (love her so much)

Lunatic/birdie: I like to think they have face piercings! Especially Dhalia/dimples ones :3 It gives them this badass look. Also eyebrow piercing comes to my mind when imagine them. I could also imagine reader or birdie having a snake eye piercing (More likely birdie)

In the fic they don't have a chain, but I added one because of the moon. To represent the title a bit <3

Also their ears! I always forget their more like feathers (please correct if I'm wrong)

Watcher: like in your design the watcher has a different hairstyle. Their clothes are not as black as reader and birdies, but that's because their fading. Same with their wings and skin. I think because they have been trapped/forgotten for so long, their color has been fading a bit.

I hope you like the designs I made @valleynix ❤️❤️❤️

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 19 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the meeting Alcina is feeling guilty and you try and ease her pain.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Some angst, some fluff

Notes: Part 19! I know things have been HELLA angsty lately but I promise the next few chapters I have planned will be fun and fluffy and perhaps even a little bit smutty😏💕 We'll be putting all of that angst to bed for a bit!

A/N: If you picked up the mildly obscure Toy Story reference, I love you hahah I'll link the reference at the end for those who missed it!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

Alcina's tears slowed and eventually stopped flowing. When she felt your fingers in her hair still and heard your breaths even out she relaxed a little knowing you were asleep. She stayed there for a little longer, with her head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you slept. The steady beat of your heart and your gentle breaths relaxed her as the guilt ate away at her.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she finally lifted her head from your chest and your fingers slid out of her ebony curls and onto the bed next to you. Removing the gauze that was on your neck wound, she winced when she looked at it again. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, only trickles of blood still flowing from it. You definitely needed stitches. The longer Alcina looked at the wound the more her hands trembled - she would never be able to stitch you up like this. She tried her best to keep her hands steady but the harder she tried, the more they trembled and the more frustrated she became.

A knock on the door pulled her attention away from her hands and your neck.

"Mother?" Bela said as she opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Aunt Donna, Angie and Uncle Heisenberg are here for you."

Alcina grumbles and brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Alright, I'll be there in a moment."

"Do you need help with anything?"

Alcina pulls the fresh gauze away again to confirm you're still bleeding. Sighing in defeat, she turns to her daughter.

"Can you take over and continue to apply pressure to her neck?"

"Is she okay?" Bela asks, walking closer to the bed.

"Yes, she's asleep. Please try and not wake her. I am going to freshen myself up before going downstairs."

Bela sits on the edge of the bed and holds the gauze against your neck as Alcina makes her way into the bathroom. After a few minutes Alcina comes out in a new, clean dress. Her hair is fixed and her makeup is flawless. If Bela didn't see her mother so upset herself she never would have thought that she had been crying so hard. All evidence of her breakdown has been erased.

"I shall be back in a little while with Donna. She is going to need stitches and I am going to have Donna do it while she's here. If anything changes, do not hesitate to come get me."

"Yes mother."

Alcina ducks out of the door and Bela hears her footsteps getting further and further away.

Less than five minutes later Daniela appears in the bedroom next to Bela.

"How is she?" Daniela asks with worry in her eyes.

"She's okay. She's asleep so don't wake her Dani - Dani!" Bela hisses as Daniela crawls onto the bed and lays down next to you.

"Shh! And you're worried about me waking her up!" Daniela whispers which elicits an eye roll from Bela. "How's her neck?"

Bela removes the gauze and examines it before applying pressure to it again.

"It's still bleeding a little, she's definitely going to need stitches. Mom said she's going to have Donna do it before she leaves. But it's going to leave a nasty scar."

"Do you think mom will put the healing salve on it?"

"No, she only used it last time out of desperation. Mother doesn't want to expose her to the mold unless she absolutely has to."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Where's Cass? Still in the dungeon?"

"Yeah, she's been throwing things around in there all day. I think she even took a maid who had been misbehaving down there."

"Yikes."

Daniela's eyes wander over your sleeping figure, the bandages on your chest, the dried blood caked to your skin, the wound Bela was covering. She pouts and lays her head on the pillow next to you, gently moving your hair out of your face as you slept.

Alcina makes her way downstairs into one of the sitting rooms. As soon as she ducks through the door she sees her hat floating across the floor.

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

"Ugh, you're such a buzzkill, Godzilla!"

Alcina growls at Angie who runs towards Donna and climbs into her lap. She dusts off her hat and places it on one of the tables.

"How's the kid?" Karl says.

"Alive, no thanks to you." She snaps.

"What the fuck? Why the fuck is this shit my fault?!"

"You said you would protect her! Both of you said you would protect her and you did nothing!" Alcina yells.

"We were waiting for you to fucking do something you gigantic psychopath!"

"What was I supposed to do?! If I made another move Miranda would have killed her on the spot! There was nothing I could do!"

"And you don't think that crazy bird bitch wouldn't have snapped her neck with one hand if we did anything?! Plus it's not our fault you can't fucking control yourself you bloodthirsty bitch!"

Angie cackles. "Yeah! Get her!"

They meet in the middle of the room and are toe-to-toe, glaring at each other. Angie jumps off of Donna's lap and jumps around the two of them.

"How dare you!"

"This is the last time I try and do you any fucking favors!"

"Good because you couldn't even do the one thing you said you would! You unreliable greaseball!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Angie chants.

"Listen here you fucking cun-"

"Karl, Alcina, that is enough." Donna says, standing from her seat.

"Donna do not get in my way because I am as equally as angry at you right now." Alcina hisses.

"Alcina, please. Karl, sit down!" She says, pulling him the collar and throwing him into a chair.

"Hey!" He yells.

"Be quiet." Donna snaps before turning towards Alcina. "Alcina, please. What did you want us to do? There was nothing we could have done that wouldn't have put her life at further risk. Like Karl said, Miranda could have easily snapped her neck with one hand or when she had her caught up in the vines. We were powerless."

"What about the rest of the time?! When she was fighting against those vines! I did what I could but Miranda had me restrained! The both of you just stood there doing nothing!"

"Alcina, that's not true-"

"Then what the hell were you doing?!" Alcina screams, causing Donna to flinch and begin trembling.

"Will you stop fucking screaming at her?!" Heisenberg yells, getting in between the two of them. "Your temper is just as fucking short as you are gigantic. For your fucking information, we wanted to help. The minute Miranda wrapped you up we went to step in but Miranda eyeballed the two of us and had her vines pointed right at us. If we made any moves we would have been even more useless because we would have been fucking strung up on the ceiling by our ankles."

"Alcina, we wanted to help, we tried. There was nothing we could do that wouldn't have risked her life or made the situation worse."

Alcina lets out a shout of frustration before turning around and grabbing a nearby chair and throwing it into the wall, the chair shattering into splinters on impact. Her chest is heaving and her hands are balled into fists at her side. They begin to tremble as she struggles to keep her composure and not break down in front of everyone.

She was the matriarch of the castle, the one who never showed emotion - aside from anger. It was bad enough Donna had seen her in such a state multiple times over the last few months. It was worse that Karl witnessed her acting tender towards you. It would be a cold day in hell when she lets herself cry in front of them, Karl especially.

Hot tears sting her eyes as she struggles to keep herself together. It was easier thinking they just stood there and did nothing, at least then she was able to blame someone else. But after learning that they tried, and even worse, knowing that they were right in their suspicion that Miranda would have killed you if they stepped in to help, Alcina had no one else to blame for your pain but herself.

She broke her promise to keep you safe - again.

The realization hits her like a truck. Letting out a pained cry, she throws a table against the wall, it's pieces falling amongst the rubble from the chair.

Alcina squeezes her eyes shut, wiling the tears to go away. They threaten to roll down her cheeks but she grits her teeth and pushes everything she's feeling down with all of her strength.

You begin to wake up, feeling the sensation of tiny fingers running through your hair.

"She's waking up." You hear a familiar voice say.

"Hmm?" You mumble.

Turning your head towards the sound, you let out a small whimper from the pain at your neck.

"Easy, easy, don't move your head too much." The voice says.

Opening your eyes, you're met with a small pair of golden eyes with red strands of hair falling in front of them on one side.

"Daniela?"

"Yes, micuțo, I'm here." (Little one)

"Where's Alcina?" You ask, your eyes barely able to stay open.

"Karl, Donna and Angie are here, she went to talk to them." Bela says.

"Oh, okay." Your brows furrow as you feel the pressure of the gauze against your neck. "Fuck that hurts."

"I'm sure it does. When mom gets back Donna is going to stitch you up and we'll give you something for the pain, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go back to sleep micuțo, you need to rest." Daniela says, caressing your hair.

Your eyes close and you're swept away by sleep once more.

Not long after Alcina, Donna, Angie and Karl enter the room. Alcina didn't want an audience but Karl was being as stubborn as ever and Angie of course goes wherever Donna goes.

Sitting on the edge of the bed - taking over from Bela - Alcina runs her fingers through your hair.

"Draga, draga wake up." She says, her voice as comforting as a warm breeze. "Come on, iubirea mea. You have to wake up."

Your eyes flutter open and are met with Alcina's glowing golden eyes.

"There you go. Just like that, come now, you have to wake up."

"Alcina?"

"Yes love, it's me. I'm here." She says as she strokes your cheek with the back of her fingers. "Donna and Karl are here."

"I'm here too!" Angie screams.

Alcina shoots the doll a glare and turns her attention back to you.

"You need stitches, Donna is going to administer them, alright?"

"Okay."

Alcina moves to the other side of the bed after shooing Bela and Daniela out of the room. Angie and Karl stand on the outskirts of Alcina's chambers while Donna stitches up your wound. The entire time you're being stitched up, Alcina is sitting next to you on the bed, holding your hand and caressing it with her thumb. The stitches weren't exactly painful, but the wound itself was. Every so often a rogue tear would roll down your cheek and Alcina would quickly wipe it away, shushing you and comforting you.

When Donna was finished she gave her work one more once-over before nodding at Alcina.

"Try not to move your neck too much to avoid popping any stitches." Donna says. "You can remove them in a weeks time."

"Thank you, Donna." Alcina says.

"Of course. I'm glad to see you're okay, Y/N." Donna says to you.

"Thank you."

Angie climbs up onto the bed and stands on your chest, staring at your face. It's not that Angie weighs much, but it's still uncomfortable having anything standing on your chest right now.

"Will you get off of her." Alcina says, pushing Angie off of your chest.

"Hey! Watch it!" Angie argues before shooting a glare at Alcina, who returns the look. Staring at you once more Angie tilts her head at you. "You know, I was only kidding when I called you her new blood bag! But I guess I was right all along!" She says with an ear piercing cackle.

Alcina's eyes grow wide and angry at the doll and Donna quickly scoops her up and ushers her out of the door.

"Hey! Donna! What the hell?!" She manages to yell before Donna closes the door on her. "Oh come on! I was only kidding!" Angie's muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

Karl walks up to the edge of the bed and looks down at you.

"How're ya feelin, kid?"

"Never better."

Karl chuckles and pulls something out of his waistband. "Here, found this on the floor of the chapel. It's pretty fucked up to toss a brand new gift, especially something as perfectly hand-crafted as this, onto a dirty chapel floor." He says with a wink before handing you the dagger he gifted you earlier in the day.

"Huh, sorry. I figured since it came from you it was used to laying around in trash." You quip.

Karl bursts into laughter and pats your shoulder. "Yeah, she'll be fine." He says to Alcina.

Alcina's eyes are trained on the dagger in your hand as it lays on your chest. Her eyes glued to the dried blood caked into the Dimitrescu coat of arms engraving. Nearly the entire engraving was now the rusted color of dried blood - your blood. Her heart clenches as she relives watching Miranda drag her nail down your chest.

"Hello? Earth to Alcina?" Karl says, snapping her out of her trance. "There's no way you're bloodthirsty already. You already took half of her shit!" He says.

Alcina's eyes shoot up to Karl and they narrow at him dangerously. She lets out a low growl and Karl puts his hands up.

"Jesus, I'm just kidding. That stick up your ass must me a mile long."

"Is there anything else you need or are you going to continue to bother us like the pest you are and keep her from resting?" Alcina snaps.

"Alright, alright. No need to get your parachute-sized panties in a bunch. I'm leaving, I'm leaving. Catch ya later, kid." He says to you with a tip of his hat and leaves the room. Donna nods to the two of you and follows him out, closing the door behind them.

You carefully turn towards Alcina, trying to be mindful of the stitches in your neck and she has a far away look in her eyes.

"Hey," you say, placing your hand over hers. "What's wrong?"

Alcina snaps out it and looks down at you.

"Nothing, I am fine." She says before taking the dagger from your hand and getting up to put it away.

As she walks towards the vanity where the leg holster is, she runs her thumb over the bloodied coat of arms. She didn't even realize she stopped moving until she felt something grab at her thigh.

Looking down, she sees you standing next to her with your arms wrapped around her leg.

"Draga, you need to be in bed and rest!" She says, putting the dagger down and turning her attention to you.

"I know, but you're not okay. I can see it in your eyes. Talk to me, Alci. Please."

"Come, you have to get back in bed."

"Can I at least shower and put on clean clothes?"

Looking down at you and realizing that you're still covered in dried blood and dirty, bloody clothing. Alcina sighs in defeat and agrees.

After a quick shower and some fresh pajamas, you lay down on the new sheets Alcina had a maid put on the bed while you were cleaning yourself up - exchanging them for the bloodied sheets you were once laying on.

You wanted to talk to Alcina, to find out what was wrong. Well, you're pretty sure you knew what was wrong given everything that happened but the moment your head hit the pillow a current of sleep pulled you under.

The next few days were a blur. Alcina was constantly coming and going from her chambers, checking in on you nearly every hour. All of the physical trauma that happened to your body seemed to catch up with you. Not only were you absolutely exhausted, your neck was bruised and swollen from Miranda's hand and the vines. You realized quickly after you woke up the next morning you could barely speak, to which Alcina muttered to herself "I had a feeling this would happen." and promptly had a maid bring you hot tea and soft foods.

Each day that passed Alcina seemed to be withdrawing into herself more and more. A familiar fear began to creep into your chest. Last time she became withdrawn she broke your heart into a thousand pieces, you were worried she was heading down that path again. You so desperately wanted to talk to her but you physically couldn't. So you tried to communicate your feelings physically. Kissing her, holding her hand whenever she sat near you, cuddling into her as close as you possibly could at night. You were happy that she was reciprocating your advances but something in her eyes still made her seem so far away.

On the fifth night, your voice was finally on the mend. It was raspy as hell, but at least you were able to speak.

Alcina was laying next to you reading a book. Her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. You wiggled under her arm and cuddled into her, resting your head on her breast. She looked down at you and chuckled and adjusted her arm so you were comfortable. Wrapping your arm around her waist, your fingers drew abstract shapes across the silk of her nightgown. You couldn't help but look up at her and admire her beauty.

It was so rare for anyone to see her like this. With her hair down, no makeup, laying in just a nightgown with her reading glasses on. You could clearly see the laugh lines that adorned her perfect lips, even though their signature red rouge was absent. They still looked as full as ever. The crows feet in the corners of her eyes perfectly complimented her laugh lines. You could see every scar and stretchmark that adorned her neck, chest and face - no doubt most of them coming from the rapid growth she endured after getting the cadou. You wondered how many of them she carried over from her previous life and how many of them were new. She was effortlessly beautiful, yet something lurked in her eyes that made you believe that she never once looked at herself that way.

"You do know it's rude to stare, right, draga?" She says, her eyes not leaving her book.

"People stare at artwork all the time and that's considered a compliment." You rasped.

Alcina smirked and rolled her eyes before they landed on you. "Is there something I can do for you?" She asks, closing her book.

"Nuh-uh. I'm just looking at the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, draga mea." She says before leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"No I'm good, I'm fine. How are you?"

"Me? There's no need to worry about me." She pulls the covers off of her and moves to stand up but you hold onto her, keeping her in place.

"But I am worried about you."

"Don't. Let me up, I am going to put my book away."

You release her from your grip with a sigh and watch her as she returns her book to the bookshelf and places her glasses on the vanity.

"I can't help it. I haven't been able to talk to you for almost a week. We haven't even been able to talk about what happened."

"We will have plenty of time to discuss what happened. What's important now is that you rest your voice and continue healing."

"Alcina, please. You're pulling away again. You've been doing it all week. It's starting to worry me. Please just talk to me."

Alcina places her hands on her vanity and looks down.

"I don't know what it is you want me to say."

"Anything, say anything. Tell me how you're feeling, let me know what you're thinking, anything." Alcina stands there, unmoving and silent. "Alcina please, it scares me when you get like this. Please let me help." You try your best to keep your voice steady but it still shakes. Alcina closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I don't want to burden you, you have enough to deal with draga."

"It's not a burden, you are never a burden. I'm more worried about you than anything else right now. Please, just talk to me. You promised you would talk to me."

She hangs her head and digs her nails into her palms. After taking a minute to collect her thoughts she finally speaks. "I'm afraid, draga." She says and looks up at you through the mirror.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of myself, afraid of losing control again. I nearly killed you. I was completely out of control." Even from this distance you can see her eyes start to gloss over.

"But you didn't."

"But I very easily could have. That side of me, it is dangerous. It is horrific and monstrous-"

"Don't say that about yourself-"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" She shouts as she turns towards you. "That side of me is nothing compared to what you've seen. It is ugly and horrifying and no one other than Mother Miranda has seen it in it's entirety. That was the first time anyone aside from my girls have even seen my wings! Those ugly, awful-"

"Alcina, they were beautiful."

"No they are not."

"They are to me."

"Nothing about that side of me is beautiful, draga. Nothing."

"Why are you so afraid of it?"

"Because I have no control over it! You saw what happened, I heard you begging and screaming to let you go and there wasn't a single thing I was able to do! It was like my mind was trapped in a body I had no control over."

Suddenly it felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown over you. You knew Alcina wasn't in control, but you thought that a different conscious took over and hers went dormant. But she heard you begging for your life. You were right, Mother Miranda wanted her to kill you. She wanted Alcina to be imprisoned as she watched you die in her arms.

"You heard me?"

"Yes. And when I'm in that state there is nothing I can do to stop myself." She wraps her arms around herself and looks down at the ground. "That's why I was so afraid when she told me to feed from you."

"Because she knows you're not in control. She wanted you to watch what you did to me but not be able to stop it."

"Precisely."

You move over and pat the empty side of the bed, silently asking Alcina to join you again. She stands there for a moment, her arms still wrapped around herself, almost as if she's afraid to get too close to you. "Come on." You say as you wave her over. Eventually she sighs and lays back down in bed. Being mindful of your stitches, you curl into her and lay your head on her shoulder.

"But you stopped. You weren't in control but you stopped." You said.

"I don't know what you did to stop me but I can never guarantee that will happen again. You were lucky. We were lucky that monster stopped."

"Alcina, please."

"I don't know what else you want me to call it, it's a monster."

"What does it look like, your full form?"

"Like a dragon of sorts."

"Of sorts?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Okay, then call it a dragon, not a monster. For me, please?"

Alcina looks into your pleading eyes and rolls hers. "I will try."

"Thank you. Do you want to know how I got you to stop?"

"Yes."

"As you were feeding from me I remembered Cassandra saying that fear makes blood taste sweeter. I realized every time I felt fearful, the bite would get worse. So I relaxed myself in your arms and stroked your cheek. I asked you to please stop, that it was enough. Just when I thought I had failed and that I was going to die, you slowed down and stopped."

"I am so sorry, draga." She says as she wipes a few tears away and kisses the top of your head.

"But the most interesting thing happened after you stopped."

"What was that?"

"Even though your eyes were completely white, you looked afraid when you looked down at me in your arms and saw what happened. Was that the dragon, or was that you?"

Alcina leans her head back for a moment to think. She closes her eyes and her brows furrow.

"I think it was both of us. I was screaming, trying to get it to stop. Then it realized what it had done and I felt it's fear."

"Do you remember what happened afterwards?"

"When that mon-" you shoot her a look and she huffs. "when that dragon takes over my memory becomes hazy, so I don't remember everything clearly."

"You nuzzled me and whimpered."

"What?"

"Yeah, you nuzzled me and I heard you let out a whimper like a sad puppy. Then Mother Miranda took a step towards us and you growled at her. She took another step forward and you stepped backwards and then you full on snarled at her."

"Did I really?" Alcina asks with a look of surprise on her face.

"Yeah. Why? What's wrong?"

"It only ever responded to Mother Miranda. She was the only one that was ever able to control it." She says with a faraway look in her eye. Shaking her head, she looks back down at you. "Sorry, please continue."

"It's okay. After that you kneeled on the ground and covered us with your wings. Your mouth went to move towards my neck and I stopped you. I wasn't sure if you were going to try and feed again but instead you nuzzled me again and started purring, like really loudly. Louder than I've ever heard before."

A faint blush dusts Alcina's cheeks and she looks away as if she's embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She mumbles.

"What? Alcina, there's absolutely nothing to apologize for, especially for that." You say as you guide her chin back towards you. "Honestly? I liked it. It made me feel safe. Even when you do it and it's a faint purr, its comforting."

"I suppose that, thing, and I are more connected than I would care to admit. We are one in a way."

"That's why I don't want you to hate it or talk badly about it. It's part of who you are, and everything about you is beautiful and worthy of love."

Alcina's breath stalls in her chest and she looks deep into your eyes with wonder. "You are truly fascinating. You never cease to amaze me, draga mea." She whispers, as if she's talking to herself.

You sit up and bring your lips to meet hers in a gentle, passionate kiss. "I love everything about you. Everything that you are, Alcina. Always." You whisper against her lips before she kisses you again.

When your lips part you rest your head in the crook of her neck and she runs her fingers through your hair.

"Did anything else happen?" She asks.

"Well when I realized you weren't going to feed again, I let you move back towards the bite mark you started licking it and cleaning it."

"That I do faintly remember. Right before I came back, correct?"

"Yeah, you placed a kiss on it and when you pulled back the white in your eyes faded back to your usual gold."

"That's right. I do remember that. That's why Mother Miranda had that incredulous look on her face. Because the mon-"

"Alcina." You interrupt.

"Sorry, I've been calling it that for nearly 60 years, it's going to take some time to break that habit." She says defensively. "Anyway, she had that look on her face because the dragon disobeyed her, it rejected her and chose you."

"Man that must have pissed her off."

"It very likely had."

"Do you think she'll leave me alone now?"

"I hope so, draga mea. Mother Miranda is a woman of her word. She promised she would leave you alone from now on."

"She said that last time."

"Technically, she said she would respect my property."

"Is that not the same thing?"

"For Mother Miranda, no. But she swore to leave you alone so I can only hope she keeps her word."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

You stifle a yawn and Alcina chuckles and kisses you on the forehead.

"Sleep, draga." She says as she slides down under the covers and wraps her arms around you. "You need rest. And you need to rest your voice. You only just got it back and I fear that the length of our conversation will set you back in your recovery."

"It would be worth it. I missed talking to you. And we needed to talk."

"That we did, iubirea mea." She says as she nuzzles into your hair. "I missed talking to you too. Now go to sleep."

Alcina kisses the shell of your ear and you fall asleep feeling her warm breath cascading over you.

Of course, the conversation the two of you had did indeed set your recovery back because you woke up without a voice again and didn't get it back for another two days.

Finally your week of recovery has gone by and Alcina was able to remove the stitches from your neck wound. She tried to hide her grimace at the scar but you saw the look on her face. Insisting on seeing it for yourself, you couldn't help but make the same face at first. Your reaction to it, even though it was involuntary, broke Alcina's heart and you could see it all over her face. You did your best to reassure her that it wasn't that bad and that it would fade some in time, but the both of you knew that it would still leave a very noticeable scar.

Feeling the guilt radiate off of her, you led her to the bed and had her lay down with you. Curling into her as tightly as possible, the two of you laid like that for hours, trying to let the aftermath of the meeting fade from your minds. The both of you still had a lot of thoughts and feelings to work out, but as you laid in each others arms, nothing else in the world mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C25l1SkYzb0

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

[mellythesimp]

the epic battle of autism and adhd

[im-dehydrated05]

I need help from all the resident lover people because I usually love everyone else’s work, but I really harshly criticize mine, so can you guys tell me if this is good? Should I continue this? Idk man. The Oc takes MC place so yeah…

To Break Away From Fate

This is an OC x RL Story

Something's wrong...

Something's terribly wrong.

I keep remembering — I keep remembering.

My heart has no pity on me.

I hurt them.

I hurt them because I chose them.

What happened? How did this happen? I only thought it was a joke. I thought that Bella had finally gone mad from all the stress and work she did.

I just wanted to help.

I didn't believe in it. In the loops, the school being a cult, but then I started to remember the other time lines and all the outcomes. I felt sick; I didn't want this, but fate didn't give you a choice.

SHE didn't give you a choice.

Miranda: "We belong together, don't you understand? It doesn't matter how many times you resist me or how many times I have to restart. The loop will only stop when you are who you are meant to be. When you finally come back to me, that is what fate has planned for us."

I almost laughed at her words, "When you are who you are meant to be," after I chose her. She wants me to change completely to be like the ghost of her lover.

I finally chose her.

I chose her so many times, and yet...

YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH...

And suddenly, all that sadness turned to ANGER.

"I don't give a fuck about your Fate."

I clenched my fists so tightly that I felt like I might draw blood from my palms with my nails.

I almost wish I did.

You deserved it.

"They didn't deserve that, and you know that. I'll never be that woman you fell in love with, and you know it."

And just like that, the facade Miranda had been putting up shattered in an instant. Once she discovered that it wasn't 'me', her face immediately turned cold. She made her way toward me.

Miranda: "I see... this loop seems to be another failure."

I backed away from her, a startled look on my face as I looked around her office. I knew what those words meant, and I knew exactly what came next, but where was she—

?: "That's too bad. I was finally starting to like this version of you."

A deep voice behind me said. There was an ease in her tone, like she was amused by the boldness of my words. As if she had been here the whole time.

My breath hissed as I turned slowly, thinking maybe I could talk my way out of this. If she kills me...

I don't want to forget everything.

You'll forget.

Rᴜɴ

Tᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ...

sᴀғᴇ

"What the hell?"

My vision became blurry as a strange voice called out to me. My mind dissociated, seeing a vision of a small lake surrounded by trees.

Tʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ

I groaned, my vision finally coming back. Mia's knife was the first thing I saw as she swung it at me. My body jerked back as my hand grabbed onto the blade, pulling Mia towards me before I delivered a kick to her stomach, knocking the air out of her. I didn't even feel the blood running down my palm as the adrenaline built up in my body.

Rᴜɴ

An exit I need to get out of here, but Miranda and Mia were blocking the only door, so I did what any person under the influence of adrenaline would do... I jumped out the window, but not before getting attacked by Cornelius, who scratched my face, leaving a nasty cut on my cheek. I smacked him away, finally jumping out of the office and sprinting towards the forest. My body moved on its own, taking several turns before it finally stopped. I hunched over, catching my breath, and looking around.

It was the lake—the lake I saw before.

A feeling of comfort and safety overwhelmed me as I walked closer to the lake. I tilted my head, looking at my reflection in the water. My tired self could only manage to lift my eyebrows in surprise, my expression shifting to a frown as I got on my knees to get a better look at my reflection.

It was me.

Yeah, no shit... but my clothes looked different—a 1960s type of style.

"What?"

I reached my hand toward my reflection. My hand touched the water, dyeing the water red. I hissed at the pain, finally feeling the wounds that were inflicted on me. My hand didn't pass the surface of the water, leaving me confused until my reflection smiled softly at me. My soul almost left my body as I jumped back.

"What the fuck!"

It was quiet for a second before I heard a merry laugh coming from the lake.

"Wᴇʟʟ, ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏ."

I didn't dare to move at this point, questioning if I was going insane... already.

"Hᴇʟʟᴏ, ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ?"

Okey, so I have officially gone insane.

I let out a shaky sigh before standing up and wobbling back to the lake, feeling dizzy. My reflection tilted her head, a frown on her face.

"Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ."

I nodded very carelessly, the words not really processing in my head. I felt a cold sensation all over my body, my muscles aching as I lay down next to the lake, trying to listen to whatever my reflection was saying.

"Sᴏ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛᴇʟʟ, I'ᴍ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ, ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ. I'ᴍ ᴀ ᴘᴀsᴛ sᴘɪʀɪᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛʟʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ sᴏᴜʟ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ I'ᴍ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ—"

I steadied my breath, feeling like I was having difficulty breathing, and closed my eyes when my vision was going black on the edges.

"Sᴏ I ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs Bᴜᴅʀɪᴏʟɪ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀɴᴄᴇsᴛᴏʀs ᴡᴇʀᴇ—"

The sound of pounding blocked the voice speaking to me, and I could hear my heart slowly stopping before everything was quiet.

It was quite, still, so peaceful...

Until a voice broke the peaceful silence and another and another. They're here again. Too many voices. Too many memories. They all overlapped over one another, and then... they started to make sense.

"...Eva!!"

"We'll bring her back..."

"—choose you every time-"

"Romeo-"

"—star.."

"...worried about you-"

"—wait in the car for me—"

"...no matter where we go-"

"—roses look good on you..."

"you were going to leave-"

"...Italian will do won't it?"

"—I won't let you go..."

"...believe me..."

"—love and be loved."

"—doesn't matter how many times I have to do this, who you go to, what you do, I will reset this as many times as I fucking HAVE TO!

*beep*

*beep*

*beep*

Drenched in sweat and with a racing heart, Aurora jolted up, finally waking up. She looked around the room, a sigh leaving her lips as she noticed she was in her dorm room.

.

.

.

Wait a minute. Shouldn't she be back with her friends in the apartment? She shouldn't be at the university yet.

"What the hell is going on?"