#like yes i know cassandra’s not dead she’s just kept away. but ‘dead’ has so much oomph to it

[mazeyphaedra]

CASSANDRA & ANKARNA: DIVINE, DIVORCED, DEAD

unknown // Florence + the Machine, Cosmic Love // H. D., A Dead Priestess Speaks // Kennedy Ryan, Still // Fantasy High: Junior Year, Mall Madness // unknown // Tathève Simonyan, A Prayer // Fantasy High: Junior Year, Infernal Conflict // Japanese Breakfast, Boyish // Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

[unstabledreamparty]

Hi!!!😛😛😛 my name is Angsty Anon😛 and I am a very angsty soul 🧐

I was wondering if I could request a Alcina x masc reader YN who is very stubborn and has an “I don’t need anyone to take care of me”attitude that gets sick? Reeder wakes up and feels really sick, but doesn’t want to bother Alcina’s because they know she’s busy with work so they go to do their daily tasks with a fever of 103, shakes and chills, and they pass out while working as like the groundskeeper, landscaper, or custodian, whatever.

Basically, just Alsina, taking care of a reader, who feels very bad that they are sick and doesn’t want to burden in Alcina, but Alcina is very protective of them.

Ooh 😮 I love it!

“Darling, your sick. You should stay in bed for the time being, until you get better.” You looked at Alcina and scoffed “I should be ok, I can still walk. If I can still walk, then I can still work.” Alcina knew you were going to be stubborn, it’s how you were. “Darling, you have a fever of 103! You are going to overwork yourself and make your fever worse!” Alcina tried everything to get you to stay in bed, but you still ended up doing your chores. “Cassandra!” Alcina was a little bit upset with you working with a fever, so she had to take extra precaution. “Yes, mother?” Cassandra knew something was wrong, she saw you working the grounds shaking like a leaf, and your heartbeat was a little bit to fast for her liking. “I want you to watch [name], they are incredibly sick and they refuse to lay down!” ‘Ooh… so that’s what it was!’ Cassandra nodded “I will tell the others. Is that all you needed to tell me, mother?” Alcina shook her head “no, dear, you may go back to your chores.” Cassandra left in a hurry to go find you, she was afraid of you over working yourself.

The three girls watched you very closely, scared something may happen. “They don’t look that sick.” Bela said while picking up a rose and tearing off the petals “I mean, they are shaking.” Cassandra said while watching you, almost intrigued “and their heartbeat is quite fast.” The final one said while listening to your heartbeat, scared it’s going to stop at any moment.

You were starting to feel tired, but you kept going. You had to get these chores done! You only have 2 more to do, you can’t give up now! But… it’s hard to resist the urge to fall asleep now… you couldn’t help but notice how everything was spinning, the roses were spinning, the castle was spinning, hell, even your hands were spinning! What’s going on..? Your legs started giving out on you, and before you know it, your on the floor. Possibly lifeless. That’s how it looked to the three girls anyway…

“Holy shit!” Daniela yelled as she ran over to you “oh my god, what happened?!” Cassandra said as she turned around from whatever she occupied herself with “I’m going to go get mother! I will be right back, and make sure they are not dead!” Bela said while teleporting away and coming back with the lady of the castle. “[name]? Darling?!” Once alcina got outside she blew a fuse, “darling, I told you! Why don’t you ever listen to me?” She said while she picked you up and took you to the bedroom

You woke up hours later to a wet cloth on your forehead and with a cup of water on your bedside table. “Wha?-“ you tried to get up, but was pushed down gently “sweetheart, lay back down. You need rest.” You looked at her confused “I was working the grounds…. What happened?” Alcina looked at you “you passed out, darling and your going to take medicine and stay in bed unless you need to go to the bathroom, but other than that your are not getting out of this bed!” You looked at her, what was her problem? “I don’t need you taking care of me, I can handle it myself!” You protested, even though you knew that you couldn’t do it all by yourself, you hated getting sick. “Well it sure doesn’t look like it, you looked dead when I walked onto the grounds! Now take the medicine and go to bed.” You didn’t want to argue with her so you took the medicine and feel asleep, hoping you would get better.

I’m so sorry for the delay! I got really busy! Anyway, please request anything, and I mean, anything! And please tell me if there is any mistakes! I will gladly fix them!

-Alex/clown:)

[gutshift]

faye banter! faye banter!

COLE:  stay.  please. HAWKE:  are you speaking to me? COLE:  i’m not.  he wishes he could. HAWKE:  i don’t follow. COLE:  tears can crack stone.  it’s just slow. HAWKE:  ah. HAWKE:  he’s stronger than that. COLE:  he thinks he has to be.

VIVIENNE:  champion — HAWKE:  don’t. VIVIENNE:  hawke, then. HAWKE:  it’s not the name i take issue with.  it’s you. VIVIENNE:  i suppose i should not have expected civility from one like you. HAWKE:  you’re right

VARRIC:  how many does that make for you, hawke? HAWKE:  only one of us keeps track of how many people we kill, varric. VARRIC:  i was talking about times the seeker’s glared at you, not kills. HAWKE:  ah. HAWKE:  twenty - two.  that’s only counting today. if present —— CASSANDRA:  i was not — HAWKE:  twenty - three.

SERA:  so you — you’re a blood mage, yeah? HAWKE:  yeah. SERA:  and people call you a champion?  like some kinda hero? HAWKE:  some do.  not most. SERA:  only people callin’ that sorta shite heroic are other blood mages. HAWKE:  shame is less than effective on me these days. SERA:  pfft.  whatever.  do what you want.  away from me. if present —— VARRIC:  watch it, buttercup. SERA:  she’s a blood mage! VARRIC:  [  sharply  ]  that’s not all she is.

DORIAN:  so.  your blood magic. HAWKE:  don’t. DORIAN:  what?  don’t like the prying?  i’m just trying to get information. HAWKE:  you’re trying to hurt yourself. DORIAN:  i’m — what? HAWKE:  i hurt myself too much not to see when others do it. if ‘last resort of good men’ has been completed —— HAWKE:  i’m sorry, for whoever used blood to hurt you. DORIAN:  ah.  word travels fast. HAWKE:  no. DORIAN:  no? HAWKE:  i don’t need whatever gossip you think i’ve heard to know what someone damaged by blood magic looks like.  don’t ask me about my magic just to hurt yourself hearing the answer. HAWKE:  it doesn’t prove that you’re strong.  it just makes you a fool.

SOLAS:  hawke, i must ask that you — HAWKE:  cole told me.  i’m being careful. SOLAS:  ah.  thank you. HAWKE:  i’ll keep from going near your spirits.  if they’re corrupted, it won’t be by me. SOLAS:  and cole?  has he reported feeling strangely near you? HAWKE:  no.  he says he’s too solid for it.

HAWKE:  you can stop looking at me like that. THE IRON BULL:  i could, sure. HAWKE:  believe me when i say that if i wanted you dead, magic or no magic, you would already be dead. THE IRON BULL:  who says i’m staring because i think you want me dead?  maybe i’m staring because i’m a big fan. HAWKE:  so was the arishok. THE IRON BULL:  point taken.

BLACKWALL:  it might not be an opinion you hear often, but i think that you’re every bit the hero the stories make you out to be. HAWKE:  not an opinion i hear often from mundanes, anyway. BLACKWALL:  you did everything you could to keep a city safe on your shoulders.  you can’t be faulted that it crumbled anyway. BLACKWALL:  it’s not right, how much you gave, and how little everyone acts like it mattered. HAWKE:  you should have met my mother. BLACKWALL:  i take it she agreed? HAWKE:  no.  no doubt in a few hours she’d have you convinced that i was solely to blame for all that happened. BLACKWALL:  surely that’s not true. HAWKE:  we could ask her if i hadn’t let her die, so perhaps she was right.

CASSANDRA:  champion — VARRIC:  watch it, seeker. HAWKE:  let her speak. CASSANDRA:  i wanted to ask if you had any idea that we were searching for you.  while varric kept you hidden. HAWKE:  i did. CASSANDRA:  and you would have refused, had we found you. HAWKE:  yes.  i spent my life running from the circles.  i wouldn’t let the chantry turn me into its puppet now. CASSANDRA:  the inquisitor is hardly a puppet. HAWKE:  you wanted a figurehead.  and you wanted the rebels to look at me and see a renegade mage working with the chantry, submitted to its laws.  because we both know you didn’t want a hedge mage maleficar. CASSANDRA:  what we wanted was a leader. HAWKE:  then you’re even more foolish than i thought.  surely varric told you the story.  how well did i lead a damned thing in kirkwall? CASSANDRA:  you’ve made your point. HAWKE:  good.

[sunhalf]

inquisition - verse faye banter!

COLE:  stay.  please. HAWKE: are you speaking to me? COLE: i’m not.  he wishes he could. HAWKE: i don’t follow. COLE: tears can crack stone.  it’s just slow. HAWKE: ah. HAWKE: he’s stronger than that. COLE: he thinks he has to be.

VIVIENNE: champion — HAWKE: don’t. VIVIENNE: hawke, then. HAWKE: it’s not the title i take issue with.  it’s you. VIVIENNE: i suppose i should not have expected civility from one like you. HAWKE: i suppose you shouldn't have.

VARRIC: how many does that make for you, hawke? HAWKE: only one of us keeps track of how many people we kill, varric. VARRIC: i was talking about times the seeker’s glared at you, not kills. HAWKE: ah. HAWKE:  twenty - two.  that’s only counting today. if present —— CASSANDRA: i was not — HAWKE: twenty - three.

SERA:  so you — you’re a blood mage, yeah? HAWKE:  yeah. SERA: and people call you a champion?  like some kinda hero? HAWKE: some do.  not most. SERA:  only people callin’ that sorta shite heroic are other blood mages. HAWKE: shame is less than effective on me these days. SERA: pfft.  whatever.  do what you want.  away from me. if present —— VARRIC: watch it, buttercup. SERA: she’s a blood mage! VARRIC: [  sharply  ]  that’s not all she is.

DORIAN:  so.  your blood magic. HAWKE: don’t. DORIAN:  what?  don’t like the prying?  i’m just trying to get information. HAWKE: you’re trying to hurt yourself. DORIAN: i’m — what? HAWKE:  i hurt myself too much not to see when others do it. if ‘last resort of good men’ has been completed —— HAWKE: i’m sorry, for whoever used blood to hurt you. DORIAN: ah.  word travels fast. HAWKE:  no. DORIAN:  no? HAWKE:  i don’t need whatever gossip you think i’ve heard to know what someone damaged by blood magic looks like.  don’t ask me about my magic just to hurt yourself hearing the answer. HAWKE:  it doesn’t prove that you’re stronger.  it just makes you a fool.

SOLAS: hawke, i must ask that you — HAWKE:  cole told me.  i’m being careful. SOLAS:  ah.  thank you. HAWKE: i’ll keep my distance.  if your spirits are corrupted, it won’t be by me. SOLAS: and cole?  has he reported feeling strangely near you? HAWKE: no.  he says he’s too solid for it.

HAWKE: you can stop looking at me like that. THE IRON BULL:  i could, sure. HAWKE:  believe me when i say that if i wanted you dead, magic or no magic, you would already be dead. THE IRON BULL: who says i’m staring because i think you want me dead?  maybe i’m staring because i’m a big fan. HAWKE: so was the arishok. THE IRON BULL: point taken.

BLACKWALL:  it might not be an opinion you hear often, but i think that you’re every bit the hero the stories make you out to be. HAWKE:  not an opinion i hear often from mundanes, anyway. BLACKWALL: you did everything you could to keep a city safe on your shoulders.  you can’t be faulted that it crumbled anyway. BLACKWALL: it’s not right, how much you gave, and how little everyone acts like it mattered. HAWKE:  you should have met my mother. BLACKWALL: i’m assuming she agreed? HAWKE:  no.  no doubt in a few hours she’d have you convinced that i was solely to blame for all that happened. BLACKWALL: surely that’s not true. HAWKE:  we could ask her if i hadn’t let her die, so perhaps she was right.

CASSANDRA: champion — VARRIC: watch it, seeker. HAWKE: let her speak. CASSANDRA: i wanted to ask if you had any idea that we were searching for you.  while varric kept you hidden. HAWKE:  i did. CASSANDRA: and you would have refused, had we found you. HAWKE: yes.  i spent my life running from the circles.  i wouldn’t let the chantry turn me into its puppet now. CASSANDRA: the inquisitor is hardly a puppet. HAWKE: you wanted a figurehead.  and you wanted the rebels to look at me and see a renegade mage working with the chantry, submitted to its laws.  because we both know you didn’t want a hedge mage maleficar. CASSANDRA: what we wanted was a leader. HAWKE:  then you’re even more foolish than i thought.  surely varric told you the story.  how well did i lead a damned thing in kirkwall? CASSANDRA: you’ve made your point. HAWKE: good.

[starlsssankt]

@siderealxmelody /

The sea was wild, chaotic and probably the only soothing he knew. It was the constant he kept coming back to.

He stood by the railing, the spray of salt and mist waking him up. He could feel the tug of his twin and gritted his teeth.

He'd left Prythian on the first ship he'd been able to take. He didn't need a reason to be dragged back there.

But if the whispers from his informats were of any consequence - war was brewing. The Changelings would be the first targets and recruits.

He moved to the desk looking down at his crew. Illyarians who had been shunned by the Illyarian Queen Achlys. They were too weak, too different, too mixed to be of use.

He would not let them die in a war that didn't concern them. But he remembered the stories from his parents. From the time of Cassandra's fall and the fallout that spread for centuries after.

If this war was going to that he wouldn't wait for it to come to him. To them. He gave the directions to his second and Shadowstepped away.

He landed in Winter moving through the wastelands to the cabin. He remembered it had been rundown, the first project he and Aleksander had made together after Nirtea.

Perhaps the first time they'd done anything together on their own. He stood at the threshold and noted the softer touches.

Flowers, and little accents of gold and red. So has he finally taken Anastasiya then? That was new.

He remembered the horrors of Nirtea as much as his twin. He felt that guilt knowing he shared the same powers of those Changelings.

But Nirtea was right. They could choose to be something different. He could choose to make a different legacy and name for himself.

He was the Pirate King. The captain of the Silver Shadow. The general of The Voiceless Death. He would not falter now.

The door opened and he stepped back at the heat. It prickled his skin and made him squint. But that was nothing against the sheer joy slamming into his skin.

He was out of practice to keep his mental shields so strong. Anastasiya's radiant smile felt like a hammer against his head.

"Hello Anastasiya. Is Aleksander -"

She grabbed his wrist dragging him inside.

"He was just finishing getting ready. He warned you'd come quickly. He just called you this morning. Even Jurian doesn't come that fast. How is the oceans? Aleksander was telling me you were helping the witches in Vaalbara yes? How are they? Did Hypaxia -"

But the gods living and dead didn't she ever be quiet? His attention latched onto the name though. He forced himself not to stiffen. What he and Hypaxia were complicated enough he didn't even know how to name it.

"I worked with her brother actually. She seemed particularly busy what with her coronation soon."

Anastasiya gave a nod as if his lie made perfect sense. She gasped spinning to the kitchen.

"Oh I'm being a terrible host! Do you want anything? I could make you tea! Do you like tea? I keep meaning to go into town to get more tea. I've only been officially living here for a month so things are still sparse -"

Azriel tuned her out and focused on the sofa he gratefully sank down into. The gold accents carried through. He didn't remember Aleksander caring for gold as much. It was probably Anastasiya's Autumn touch. He glanced at her making her tea. She was still chattering even if he hadn't replied to whatever she was saying.

He was glad that this place didn't stink of sex if she'd only been here a month. Maybe Aleksander hadn't bed her yet. But he didn't see another bedroom and -

He nearly rolled her eyes as he looked back to her from staring at the hallway. Where was Aleksander? Was this some slow torture? And gods did she ever shut the fuck up?

Azriel's lips twitched and he gratefully took the tea to hide it. He could think of a few instances that would keep that mouth busy. He paused and rose an eyebrow as Anastasiya sat across from him.

"Yes?"

Anastasiya flushed and fidgeted.

"Oh it's nothing. You looked amused. What was the joke?"

He bit his lip.

"I don't think you'd appreciate my joke Anastasiya. Or Aleksander definitely wouldn't appreciate -"

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐇𝐄'𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍. They didn't speak very often, their bond strained in its own way. Azriel had chosen a life away, which in a way, Aleksander's glad that the other male found happiness in his own path.

But that didn't mean they hadn't had their arguments about it. About Azriel's abandonment of everything and everyone--

But that is neither here nor there, as Aleksander could feel it the moment Azriel arrived. He doesn't need the sound of Anastasiya talking to tell him that his twin is in the cabin. Perhaps a part of him wants to make Azriel wait.

It's a petty part of him, yes, but he can't help it--

Until he finally relents, and steps from the hall.

❝ Considering I know that mind perhaps better than any other, brother, you are correct. ❞ His eyes narrowed. ❝ Now isn't the time to start off this visit in any... unpleasantness, wouldn't you say? ❞

[pawsthec]

Imagine a prisoner who has been kept in the dungeon for about a week making friends with the daughters to the point that they go against their mother's wishes to kill her and instead keep her as a companion.

Like, Daniel is upset over the others not wanting to talk to her so she moped around the dungeon crying slightly before standing infront of the maidens cell.

Daniela: *softly crying*

Maiden: miss? Are you alright?

Daniela: *slightly spooked* who said that!?

Maiden: sorry I didn't mean to startle you, I'm in here

Daniela: *turns to find the Maiden sat in the floor while looking at her genuinely concerned* you're mothers prisoner, aren't you?

Maiden: yeah, I honestly don't mind it in here. It's quiet. I see why you would come down here to mope

Daniela: I was not moping! I was just a little upset

Maiden: *laughs at the small outburst*

Daniela: *confused but also starting to laugh* sorry, my temper gets the better of me sometimes. What's your name?

Maiden: (maidens name), you must be Daniela, the youngest

Daniela: yeah, everyone keeps shoving that in my face

Maiden: hey, from being an older sibling myself, we love our younger siblings to the moon and back but we find you goys annoying sometimes. They'll come around, just give them time.

Daniela: thanks

Alcina: Daniela!

Daniela: heh, got to go

So, they begin a routine of Daniela coming down and sitting outside of her cell having conversations with her whenever her sisters send her away. This carries on for about a week but then Cassandra comes across the Maiden after Daniela leaves one day.

Cassnadra: *angrily swinging her sythe to let out some friustration*

Maiden: wouldn't a sword be better for that?

Cassandra: *spooked, she turns around to find the Maiden sat in the same spot that she was in when Daniela first spoke to her* excuse me?

Maiden: I didn't mean to offend, it was a simple question. Wouldn't a sword be better for that?

Cassandra: I guess you're right, I just prefer using a sythe

Maiden: we all have our preferences, I personally prefer daggers. They're lightweight and easy to hide

Cassandra: you know you're weapons do you?

Maiden: my father was a blacksmith and taught me everything he knew, I miss him

Cassandra: dead?

Maiden: missing, presumed dead

Cassandra: that's strange

Maiden: what is, Lady cassandra?

Cassandra: my anger, is gone. Your good... *flys off in her swarm*

Cassnadra would go down there whenever she was upset or andry and a few days later the Maiden met Bela. She had gone down there after not finding her siblings anywhere and had gotten bored with tormenting maids and instead wanted to torment the prisoner.

Bela: oh little Maiden, where are you?

Maiden: in here

Bela: eh? *confusion over the fact that she jsut told her

Maiden: I said I am in here, you must be lady Bela

Bela: yes, I am. Who the hell are you? You can't be the maiden

Maiden: I hate to dissapoint you, but I am

Bela: okay... You are far too calm

Maiden: what would screaming do? Get me killed quicker, more painfully? Yeah, I'll pass.

Bela: hm, you're strange

Maiden: I'm aware, why are you down here?

Bela: I was bored so I was going to torment you, but there's no point now. I'm not really interested if you're not going to scream

Maiden: hm, you wanna talk instead. I heard I'm a good listener. Well, that's because I disassociate for most of the conversation but people don't know that

Bela: *contemplating it* well, seeing as everyone else is busy. It won't do any harm...

Maiden: *just sits and listens as Bela talks about the issues with a smile and comforting humming noises*

Bela: thanks for listening, maybe Dani and Cass should come and talk with you. Bye.

That's the moment she realises that they hadn't told eachother they were talking to her. She was gonna die the second they found out about eachother.

The Maiden's theory was almost right. Originally the lady was just going to kill her but after hearing the Maiden speaking with and listening to her daughters she decides to jsut go down there and see what she could do with her issues.

Alcina: *stands outside her cell menicingly*

Maiden: *stares back without fear* are you going to kill me now?

Alcina: as much as I would simply love to chain you up and drain you, I don't think my daughters would ever forgive me...

Maiden: you know, don't you?

Alcina: I do, I would really love to know your motive. Avoiding death, gaining information perhaps?

Maiden: how would I be gathering information? I was simply listening to your daughters complain about anything. As I said with Bela, I disassociate as soon as anyone starts venting anyway.

Alcina: *hums in Upper class* of course, would you kind listening to me rattle off. I rarely speak to anyone so I have quite a bit I need to say

Maiden: if that is what you need, then I am willing to listen

Alcina: *thinking, pulls out key to cell and unlocks the door before entering and closing the door behind herself*

Maiden: my lady?

Alcina: stand up

The Maiden does so and Alcina sits down where she was before pulling on the maidens dress and making her sit in her lap. She brings her legs up so that the Maiden is sat on her knees and is pulled against her chest. She simply hugs her to her chest as she rattles off obout her mental issues and everything putting strain on her.

Soon, the daughters start appearing outside of the cell one by one. They glance at eachother before swarming into the cell and crowding around the two women while grasping onto them and crying softly with their mother. The maiden just accepts her faint and starts softly humming while unknowingly claiming the Dimitrescu's enough to fall asleep around her.

That's how a random Maiden became the family therapist no one deserved but everyone needed.

[dismal-alien-darling]

Like Glass

Alcina Dimitrescu x female reader 

Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenburg

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu almost looses you and becomes even more protective than ever before. 

Warnings/tags:abduction, being held captive/against your will, being held for ransom, being starved, severe bodily harm, mentions of torture, trauma, night terrors, angst, hurt/comfort, protective Heisenburg, protective Dimitrescu daughters, upset Alcina, protective Alcina, vulnerable Alcina 

y/n= your name 

y/L/n=your lycan’s name 

Alcina Dimitrescu had always been protective of you. Even when you were simply her “pet,” her “toy,” her “human play-thing.” Her protection had doubled when she had confessed her feelings for you and had taken you as her lover. It had then tripled when she asked for your hand in marriage, you now being her wife AND step-mother to her girls.

You and Alcina had been careful in hiding your relationship because as pure as your love was it was dangerous. You could very well have been used a ransom bargaining chip to hand over Castle Dimitrescu to an enemy family. So Lady Dimitrescu kept you close and safe...that was until one winter night. You had  ventured out into the grounds that night to watch the snow fall and as you enjoyed the peace of the snowfall you had been taken by an enemy house. The word has slipped, unbeknownst how, but it had slipped just the same. You had screamed and fought as best as you could but the ones that took you were by far stronger than you. By the time Alcina had heard the screams and had gone racing out of the castle, her daughters leading the charge, there was no sign of you except for the signs of a struggle in the snow.

As expected, two days after you had been captured a note was left at the castle doors demanding Castle Dimitrescu be handed over in exchange for you safe return. The letter stated they had three days to comply or else the next thing that would be showing up the doors would be your dismembered body.

During the next two days Alcina, the girls, Heisenburg (who had grown fond of you) and your lycan (a wedding present from Heisenburg) were tearing the countryside apart looking for you. The troop barely stopped to rest and when they would Alcina could be heard muttering; “Alcina you fool, you should have turned her when you had the chance...you idiot...she could have fought them off if she was turned...you should have been watching her...Alcina you idiot...” she went on and on. Your captors had been very thorough in covering their scent and their headquarters was extremely well hidden.

It was close to sunset on the third day and Alcina had collapsed on her fours sobbing into the grass, “I’VE KILLED HER! LUBIREA MEA I’M SO SORRY!” I’VE FAILED YOU MY POOR DRAGA MEA!” The girls surrounded their mother holding onto her crying on her shoulder, even Heisenburg knelt down and placed a comforting hand on his sister’s back. Their moment of despair was interrupted by y/L/n howling and barking down a lone well about 50 feet away. The group rushed over peering down into the well which had no water at the bottom.

“Call the pack y/L/n! She’s down there and we are going to destroy every single one them! They fucked with the wrong family!” Heisenburg commanded y/L/n who immediately turned tail.The girls and Heisenburg quickly descended down the well leaving Alcina, who couldn’t fit down the narrow entrance.

“There’s a tunnel mother! We’re coming y/n!” Daniela screamed as she, Cassandra, Bela and Heisenburg surged forward.

“Be careful my doves!” Alcina called down after them. Lady Dimitrescu stood over the well for five minutes...fifteen minutes...it felt like an eternity for her. She strained her ears for the slightest sound of anything she could hear. In the distance she heard the lycan pack fast approaching. Y/L/n arrived at the well and sat waiting with the rest of the pack behind them. Some more time passed when finally Alcina heard frantic running.

“Hurry Cassandra! Dammit don’t drop her! I should have carried her!” Daniela screeched.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry...you guys stop arguing! She’s lost so much blood we need to hurry!” Bela screamed her voice choked with tears. Alcina’s heart dropped to her feet as she saw the girls and Heisenburg at the bottom of the well you draped over Cassandra’s shoulder. The girls and Heisenburg made quick work of ascending the well passing you into Alcina’s arms. Lady Dimitrescu let out a combination of what sounded like a scream, a sob and a wail. 

“MY DOVE! CEL MIC WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?!” Alcina wailed at the sight of her lover. You were absolutely battered within an inch of your life and covered in blood. There were deep chain marks around your wrists and your protruding ribs indicated you had been starved by your captors. 

“Come lycans! Tonight we will taste blood as we ruin a family line forever!” Heisenburg dropped down into the well again as the lycans followed suit one by one leaving the girls with their mother and you. 

Alcina was broken from her despair by the girls tugging at her dress. 

“Come mother! We must get her back home!” All three of them yelled in unison. And with that the Dimitrescus made a mad dash back to their castle while you lay limp in your lover’s arms. 

*********************

It had been several weeks since you were abducted and you were back to your normal self....well as normal as you could be now that you had suffered severe trauma. You woke up every night screaming and thrashing. In your night terrors you were captured over and over. You were beaten and starved over and over. Alcina would always hold you in her arms comforting you as you sobbed eventually falling back asleep. You had gotten the run down of what had happened a few days after your return; Heisenburg, y/L/n and the pack had absolutely decimated the underground home of the rival family. They had weened out the few directly responsible for taking and beating you. They still resided in the basement being tortured every day by the girls and Alcina. It was safe to say they wouldn’t be bothering any you ever again.

Ever since your abduction Alcina had been insanely protective of you and it was starting to become ridiculous. She didn’t let you outside unless supervised by the girls or herself. You hadn’t been alone for more than five minutes and Alcina had a death grip on you every night. She wouldn’t even let you walk down the stairs for fear you would “trip and break your neck.” Although Alcina had lamented not turning you when you were gone she still hadn’t done it because she was so preoccupied with keeping you “safe” and of course the normal commotions with Mother Miranda. You knew she was acting like this because you were taken but it was annoying you and not helping you in your recovery. One night you snapped.

“Alcina, drag mea, I know you want to keep me safe but you can’t treat me like I’m made of glass for the rest of my life!” you sighed pushing the log you were going to put onto the fire until Alcina had grabbed your waist pulling you back from the fire asking if you had burned yourself when you hadn’t even been close to the flames.

“I won’t apologize for keeping you safe cel mic it’s my JOB,” she stated gesturing for you to come back and sit on her lap where you had been. She furrowed her brows when you didn’t move.

“Look Alcina my love, I know that incident was a close call but I’m fine now and nothing has happened since,” you finished snapping your head around to look at your wife. Her whole body tensed. 

“Nothing yet...it is my job to protect you y/n.You’re my wife and the step-mother to my daughters and you will NEVER be away from me or hurt like that ever again!” Alcina was now yelling her eyes filling with tears. She let out a sigh resting her elbows on her knees placing her head in her hands. You couldn’t see but you knew she was crying. You strode forward quickly kneeling down so you could look up at her. You took her hands in yours leaning up to place a kiss on her chin.

“Alcina I-“

“I will never get that image of you out of my head!” Alcina sobbed taking your face in her hands. “You looked dead! I thought you were dead! We almost didn’t make it in time! And even when we did I couldn’t come get you myself! You wake up every night screaming and in tears because I failed to protect you! I should have turned you before we were wed and even now I STILL haven’t gone through with it! I’m a monster who almost lost the one person I have ever loved!” She finished her sobs racking through the room pulling you up into her lap. You went without protest wrapping your arms around her neck as she sobbed into yours. You two had never really addressed what had happened. The only time you did was when you first woke after being passed out for almost an entire day after you were returned safely to the castle. Lady Dimitrescu had not left your side the entire time you were recovering.

“Then let’s do it draga mea...” you whispered, “I think it is time. I’m ready to spend eternity with you and the girls.” As you said this Alcina lifted her head looking into your eyes and a smile stretched across her face. 

“Ok my sweet dove, we shall then,” sniffled Alcina as you wiped her eyes with your sleeve. “There is a full moon tomorrow? Does that seem right?” You let out an amused laugh and she did too. 

“Yes lubirea mea, that sounds simply perfect,” you agreed pressing your lips to hers. You were ready to become like her and the girls. You were ready to shatter your human form and embrace your new body. 

[sibillascribbles08]

A while back my first ever post for rottmnt was about how Donnie died in the bad future so now what if I wrote about how Raph died

Some quick notes for context:

I hc Casey Jr. as trans. His given name was Arum (after the toxic flowers yes) so he’s still referred to as such during this. I hc Raph as??? definitely not cis and Cassandra often uses she/her pronouns for Raph while Donnie often uses he/him

Added commentary in my tags if u want it uuuuu okay have fun????

Donatello could accept dying.

He’d come to terms with that ages ago, not long after they got thrown into this war. Despite all the measures he took for safety, defenses, he always kept it in the back of his mind that any number of things could kill him and that would just be that.

He couldn’t, however, accept that Cassandra and and his niece would die with him.

What a mess and a disaster. All it took was one Kraang hound following a squad to this base for the army to show up. They had an alert, at least, a heads up. Most everyone escaped.

But two year old Arum was harder to find. Donatello and Raph both stayed behind with Cassandra to find her, where she’d tucked herself away, while Leo and Mikey took care of setting up their backup base.

Donatello wouldn’t admit half his motive for staying was to, potentially, set off the self destruct sequence to put a dent in their numbers.

But so much for that. Cassandra’s leg got injured. She was against the wall behind Donatello, holding Arum in her arms.

And Donatello couldn’t move. He just stood there, staff out, his magic tech projecting a shield into the open hallway to stop the enemies from getting in. By now there were so many of them, too many. Kraang hounds, corrupted humans, and other flesh like monsters all pressed against the shield, adding to the pressure.

Donatello knew it wouldn’t hold forever. Knew if he tried to do anything else the shield would fail and they’d be overrun in seconds. How was he supposed to get them out of this?

Where was Raph? Already gone? That thought put a vice grip on his throat, almost squeezing out a sob.

Donatello wanted his big brother.

He didn’t know what to do.

The room shook. A sharp crack came from above. Donatello turned his gaze to see the concrete giving way. No no no. Were they going to bust in from there too? Donatello didn’t have time to make another shield.

Another crack. A huge slab fell from above. Dust exploded into the room but Donatello refused to drop his shield. Not yet. Not yet.

“Cass.” Raph’s voice rang out through the room. “Donnie!”

Donatello watched his big brother first run to check on his wife and daughter. His breath shook when he exhaled, so relieved to see him, but he kept his concentration on his magic as the kraang tried to put another dent in the shield.

“Cass, are you okay?” Raph spoke from behind.

“Fine. Had worse. Take Arum and get out of here.”

“You’re both getting out of here.” Raph insisted. “Donnie--”

“Take them and run.” Donatello interrupted. “I’ll keep buying you some time.”

“I’m not leaving you here either, Donnie.”

“You don’t have a choice.” He snapped. “The second I drop this shield we don’t have time to escape.”

He waited for some final words, or another argument. Instead there were some quiet whispers from Raph, probably speaking to Cassandra, then the sound of a gentle kiss.

Donatello glanced back at the shifting of rubble, seeing Raph approaching him.

“We have to get you out of here, Donnie.”

He glared at his big brother. “No you don’t. If you try then none of us are getting out. Just--”

“You have to get out of here.” Raph insisted. “Without you, your tech, the resistance is dead in the water. We need you, Donnie.”

“You will figure something else out.”

“No.” Raph hardened his tone. “There has to be a way out of this.” He glanced at the shield, at the wall of monsters just behind it. “Think you can make that thing just a bit smaller?”

“What do you mean?”

“Small enough to fit down the hall. Then I can punch it, send all of them back. At least long enough to give us a chance to run, right?”

That seemed stupid, insane. “Raph, it would insure your family’s survival far more if you just--”

“Donnie, trust me.” Raph held his shoulder. “We’ll get you out of this.”

Donatello didn’t want to listen. Why couldn’t Raph just take Cassandra and run?

“Fine.” He sighed. “Get ready.”

Raph’s ninpo already flashed around his fists, light trailing up his arms. It glowed bright, hot, like it often did these days when he wanted to increase the impact of his strikes.

Just as his big brother rushed toward the shield, Donatello let it shrink down. Pink tentacles and teeth tried to worm their way through the gaps, but a second later Raph hit the shield.

The impact sounded like an explosion. The entire thing rocketed down the hall, taking the monsters with them. The edges of it shredded some of them, smearing flesh and blood along the walls. Donatello held back the bile in his throat as he finally released his magic.

“Go help Cass up.” Raph told him, keeping an eye on the hallway where some of the creatures were already screaming as they approached once again.

Donatello rushed over to Cassandra. He hoped to see her relieved, or at least angry at this whole ordeal.

Instead she looked horrified.

“Donatello.” She shouted at him. “You idiot.”

What? What was she talking about? He followed her gaze, back over to Raph.

The devices seemed to fly toward him in slow motion. Two of his escape pods, the things he hadn’t brought with him because he’d given them to all the other people on base.

As soon as they got close enough they sprung open. Metal clicked as it shifted into place. The belts shot out, grabbing their target. One snatched Cassandra and Arum off the ground while the other aimed for Donatello.

He tried to weave out of the way, run around it toward his brother who had his back to him. But it wasn’t enough. The devices were meant to chase their target, on the off chance they got snatched by an enemy during launch.

He almost got close enough to grab Raph’s shoulder when the belts snapped around his chest. It jerked him backwards, into their.

“Raph!” He screamed. “Raph, what did you do?”

“Sorry.” Raphael finally looked at him, smiling, in spite of the onslaught of kraang reemerging from the hall. “Take care of them for me, okay D?”

“No.” Donatello screamed as the cover snapped down. He tried to pry the belt off, release the hatch, but it was too late for that. “No. Raph? Raph!”

The pod launched into the air, out of the hole Raph created earlier. Had he planned all this from the start?

Donatello kept staring at the old base, praying that Raph would somehow find another way out of it.

He could see the shock wave hit the ground before red light emerged from the ground. It twisted into the shape of his big brother, a bigger construct than he ever created before, almost glowing as bright as the sun.

It aimed a punch down, and as soon as the fist collided with the ground everything exploded.

Donatello flinched when the shock wave from that hit the escape pod. Thankfully it stayed intact, and on course. He tried to look back at the base but by now it was nothing more than a crater and a pillar of dust and flames.

“Ra... Raph...” He barely got the word out. Shock settled into his systems, rendering him silent as the base got farther and farther away.

As Raph got farther and farther away.

Donatello failed to hold back his sob this time.

He wanted his big brother.

[nightwishesworld]

Do u think Alcina would get jealous if there partner had a favourite plushie to the point she considers it competition, the only thing stoping her getting rid of it is her partner being upset 

Umm, we are talking about the same vampire, right??? Of course, she would! You guys have the best friggin ideas I swear! This was such a fun write

p/n = plush name

************************

Alcina Dimitrescu is not a jealous woman. 

She is the epitome of beauty and elegance, leaving no room for emotions such as jealousy to squander it. 

Yeah...right. That’s what she tells herself at least. 

To her credit though, Alcina is pretty good at keeping herself in check. Only lashing out, or asserting her dominance, as you call it, when absolutely necessary. The butcher’s son, for instance, got a taste of her rage when she caught him ogling your body like a piece of prime meat. He almost had his tongue cut out right then and there.

Alcina doesn’t do well with competition, and even though you’ve told her several times that there is no competition, she decides to weed them out herself. Can’t get jealous if there are no competitors, right?

Her jealousy doesn’t last long, she claims her spotlight one way or another. There is, however, one creature Alcina is unable to rid herself of. One that resides in her very castle. The closest any little rat has ever come to stealing her beloved y/n.

Even after long grueling days of wasting her time cleaning up Heisenberg’s messes and getting an ear full from Mother Miranda, all Alcina longs for is to crawl into bed and wrap herself in your arms. Tonight it seems the gods are frowning upon her because they have already stolen her place. She rolls her eyes at what should have been a cute display, had it been her, and instead moves to the vanity to start taking her makeup off.

Wiping away the stresses of the day helped lighten Alcina’s mood a bit. It was always such a relief to take her makeup off, knowing the day has finally ended and she can relax.

Making her way to the bed Alcina trips over the small wastebasket and curses herself for making you stir from your sleep.

“Alci, you ok?”

You sit up in bed, grabbing the sheets to cover yourself, but still keep an arm wrapped around your smaller companion. 

“Yes, I’m fine darling I-” Alcina stopped. “You know what? No. I am the Lady of this castle and I say p/n needs to leave our bed.”

“P/n is always allowed in bed!”

Alcina was too tired to start a proper argument and decides to simply give in. She refuses to hold you while that stupid plushy is sandwiched between you, effectively cock-blocking her. Its eyes mock her as it watches her toss and turn tirelessly. Alcina was not accustomed to sleeping “by herself.” The vampire felt uncomfortably bare without your body directly in contact with hers, but not bare enough to reconsider cuddling you and the plushy. Alcina is far too stubborn for that and simply chucking it to its rightful place on the floor would only upset y/n. No matter how much she loathes that plushy, she still does not want to upset you.

A smugness flashed across its cold dead eyes as it stared at her, clearly proud of its victory. Alcina only growled in response, baring her teeth like a territorial animal.

“You win this round, fucker.”

The next day was no different from any other. Alcina was kept busy with her daughters causing mayhem around the castle and paperwork needing to be done for some sort of ceremony. Naturally, when she does give herself a break, she chooses to spend it with you. This is how you ended up sitting here next to the fire, plushy at your side and Alcina by her lonesome across from you. 

“Ooh, do we still have those shortbread cookies from the other day? Or did Cassandra eat them all?”

“I hid some for you above the stove- top shelf inside the teapot.”

Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Be right back.”

Alcina nodded and turned her attention back to her book. She felt a pair of eyes on her, but she tried her damnedest to ignore it. A few intense minutes passed before she slammed her book shut. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? Just because you had them first doesn’t mean you’re their favorite.”

The plush stared blankly at her. Its silence only egged her on.

“You better watch yourself, plushy. You just landed yourself a spot on Alcina Dimitrescu’s blacklist, and no one gets off of it alive. You might have them fooled with your dapper little suit and hat but I know who you really are under all that fluff. Punk ass plushy bitch. Y/n is mine, and I do not share.”

More intense silence filled the room as Alcina was about to strike down on the innocent creature until-

“Hey Al, can you come help me? I can’t reach the top shelf.”

She gave the plush a smug grin before taking her leave. “I know someone else who can’t reach either. Coming, my love!”

Alcina sauntered out of the room only to step right back through the doorway to extend the claw on her middle finger at the plushy. Giving it the most dramatic middle finger in all of Romania.

Sometime later

The cookies were gone within minutes of settling back down on the couch. Now you were lounging across the cushions, with p/n pressed tightly against your chest, finishing the final chapter of your book. You moved to get off the couch to return your book to its shelf and pick out another classic. Before setting p/n on the cushions you place a kiss on the top of their head. Alcina pretends not to notice this out of the corner of her eye and continues to glaze over the pages of her own book, waiting for her kiss.

It never came.

You walk past her without offering so much as a smile and Alcina is sent over the edge.

“That’s it, I can’t take it anymore! Y/n it’s me or the plush.”

You look back at her, rather taken back by her sudden outburst. “Um, excuse me?”

“You heard me. It’s either me or the plush. Take your pick.”

You arch a brow and put your hands on your hips. “Well, p/n and I don’t appreciate that tone.”

Alcina rolls her eyes. “P/n isn’t real!”

You gasp and rush over to the couch and cover their ears. “How dare you! That’s a very sophisticated young man/lady you’re talking about.”

“I am sick of always coming in second to that stupid thing. You act like you love it more than you love me! Giving it a kiss and not me, how rude. We both can’t keep living here; one of us has to go.”

That got you to laugh. “This coming from the same woman who, after sending me away to sleep on the couch after an argument, comes down in the middle of the night to sleep on the floor beside the couch because you got lonely.”

Alcina blushed.

“Something tells me you won’t let me go anywhere.”

She stays quiet, only giving a huff as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“If I give you a kiss now will you stop whining?”

Alcina pretends to consider this for a moment before answering. “Will you sit on my lap?”

“Of course, my love,” you smile.

“No p/n.”

You giggle as you make yourself comfortable straddling her things. “No p/n.”

Alcina pulls you flush against her front and kisses you. “Good.” She bites your lower lip, making you gasp. She takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and relax back into the couch. Out of sheer pettiness, Alcina cracks an eye open to see the plush staring at your display of affection. She smiled into your kiss and gives it the middle finger before focusing all her attention on ravishing you.

[purpleshaded15]

AU: If Percy’s re-captured instead of Cass...

A/N: I've always thought what it would be like... if instead of Cass, Percy was re-captured. Of course it wouldn't play into our C1 narrative & Taliesin playing Percy. But the alternative story playing in my head is that I think Percy’s hate is so strong the compulsion just won’t work all the time. He’d rather die than submit. I think he’ll be too hard-headed and too smart to believe any lies like his sister left him to die, etc. Stockholm Syndrome won’t happen to him. Instead, they will have to use their last resort: vampirism.

--------

Percy has awoken in a familiar dungeon. A dungeon he wished to never see again. He remembered several arrows on his back, and him yelling to Cassandra, "Go! Don't look back!" With the piercing pain in his chest and blood spilt from his mouth, he thought he'd already die. But at least, he died knowing his sister escaped. Remembering her running away was a relief to him, even when he was brought back into this nightmare.

He coughed up blood. He was back in his cell in the dungeon of Whitestone Castle, his own castle. The only relief was that Cassandra wasn't here.

I'm sorry, Cass... was all he could think of. Feeling so much hopelessness and weakness that he couldn't escape with her.

He was allowed to rest for the days to recover. But it was soon that the torture was restarted again to him by Dr. Anna Ripley. He already told her and the Briarwoods everything he knew and that the knowledge of any Ziggurat was not passed onto their generation. But the doctor insisted to continue his torture.

The doctor kept talking to him. She read of his notes, his research, his design for a clock, even his grades and knowledge from his tutor. To say she was fascinated was an understatement. One of the days she said, "Percival, you know, we are not very different."

Percy stifled a laugh while in pain. "You mean we're the same? You and I?"

Anna Ripley looked at him crazy. "Yes!"

Percy scoffed, though he had little energy to show it. "You must be joking. I'll never be you."

Anna laughed in response, "You think that now. But you will see it, the way I see it. I can take you away from here."

"Who hurt you, Anna?"

The question was a surprise to Anna Ripley that it sparked quite a rage and she backed away from him.

"I pity you. Poor Anna Ripley," he whispered in mockery. He purposely was riling her up so she would, by the grace of God, finally kill him. 

Anna Ripley was quite enraged that she tortured Percy more on that day. He should know not to provoke a person who has power over him. But she also remembered her past, and everything that she was doing to him, was done more or less to her in the past. And that she was ultimately trying to make him become 'her'.

-------

"Anna, this needs to stop," Delilah's words entered Percy's head while he was on the brink of unconsciousness.

"Give him to me. I will make sure -" Anna Ripley said before getting cut off by Sylas.

"The rebellion has been stoked, and only a de Rolo can quell it."

"We need him." Delilah looked at Sylas and gestured. "Would you please, my dear?"

Percy was out of sorts. He was tortured in pain that he didn't really care anymore about his future until a set of fangs bit through his neck. He couldn't even croak or say anything because Sylas has held his neck in lockdown until he died of blood loss.

But he thought that moment he was freed. At least, he thought he died. And he welcomed it. Freedom at last...

So when he opened his eyes, he couldn't quite comprehend why... how...

He's still alive? How come? 

But it doesn't matter now... He’s suddenly overcome by an insatiable thirst that it’s all he could feel and think about. 

So hungry...

A resistance spy who was tasked to find the last de Rolo stumbled onto his cell. Being a rogue, she was able to open the lock and tried to wake him up while seeing all the blood and gore on his neck... She thought he was dead when she felt no heart beat. 

“My lord... I’m too late.” 

She gasped in shock when he opened his eyes and looked at her. His eyes glowing blood red, as he pushed her on the wall with his mouth open and sharp fangs protruding.

“I’m so hungry...”

He bit her on the neck with no remorse. Not realizing that he crushed her windpipe so she wouldn’t scream. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted something so much. So delicious and addicting. So lost in the taste of blood, he didn’t realize he’d already killed her. He drained her dry and all the wounds also healed up by then...

He whimpered at the sight of what he’d done and the realization of what he had become.

This time, the door opened and in came Sylas and Delilah Briarwood.

He was so angry that they took death and freedom away from him. He growled and with his bloody fangs and hands, lunged to attack Delilah. 

Sylas told him, "Stop!" His body stopped like a puppet, and he attentively looked at him. Sylas was smirking back at him, "I am your lord and master. You will do as I say."

He didn't want to, but his body. It felt like he had complete control and power over him, he couldn’t disobey. He felt himself kneel in front of Sylas and say, "Yes, my lord and master..."

He couldn't believe himself. He was so sickened by himself inside. How he could lose his family, his friends, himself and be in servitude to his family's killer. Sylas and Delilah used him to quell the rebellion of Whitestone. He became the figure head to show that the de Rolo’s are still there and put complete control of the militia and castle into the Briarwood’s hands.

Standing atop the throne room and Percy now cleaned and given freedom to roam around so long as he comes at Sylas’ beck and call. 

Sylas grabbed his face and smiled right at him. "You are the rightful heir.”

They knew that Percival would rather die than betray his family. 

“But you know what you are now. Leave your human past behind. Embrace your new reality.”

Sylas knew that the only way to make him pledge undying loyalty was to make him his own. 

“You are my son."

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

This Woman's Work Part IX (Alcina x Female Reader Fanfic)

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

“You’re almost there, Maman. You’re doing great. Just a couple more steps.”

You take a deep breath in through your nose and blow it out through your mouth and push forward at your daughter’s coaxing, your arms gripping the railing that had been set up in your bedroom. The wound in your side is in agony but you take another step, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep from crying out in pain.

It has been three weeks since that horrible night. You had already lost a lot of blood by the time Karl and Alcina arrived at Donna’s place. In an incredible stroke of luck, Donna had surgical thread in her sewing kit and at Salvatore’s instructions (he was having one of his good days) sewed up the place where Alcina’s claws had torn through. You were in and out of consciousness, but every time you opened your eyes Alcina was there by your side holding your hand.

Alcina is sitting nearby in her chair now, gently burping Ecaterina after her feeding. She looks up at you and you see concern in her golden eyes and another emotion that has been a mainstay for the past couple weeks: guilt.

Things had been...awkward between the two of you since that night. No matter how many times you assured her that all was well and you had forgiven her, she refused to forgive herself. You had only been intimate one time since that night and it ended quickly after Alcina had forgotten about the wound in your side as she cupped your hip and you couldn’t hold back the scream of pain that came out of your mouth. Alcina had immediately gotten out of the bed and as far away from you as she could, as if afraid touching you would cause any more damage.

She had sunk into the chair and began sobbing brokenly. You had wished to go to her, but your Bath chair was already on the other side of the room. You braced yourself against one of the bedposts as you said gently, “Darling, it was an accident. The pain’s already subsiding. Please come back to bed.”

Alcina covered her face with her hands, but you could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t even make love to my wife without causing her pain. What kind of wife does that make me?” The raw self-hatred in her voice broke your heart.

From that point on whenever you had settled down for the night, Alcina kissed your forehead and turned out the light and that was the end of it. She kept to her own side of the bed and you greatly missed the feeling of her muscular arms about you with your shoulder tucked under her chin, her curls kissing your cheekbones.You had the sense that if you tried to move closer she would move away so you didn’t even try.

You try to take another step and suddenly the room spins around you and you fall forward. Daniela, however, quickly grabs your arm and puts her arm around your shoulder before you hit the ground.

“I think that should be enough for today, Maman,” Bela says soothingly.

You set your jaw. You only have three more steps to go before you clear the railing. “No, girls, I can keep going.” But your ragged breathing and forehead shining with sweat give you away. You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek and taste coppery blood from where you had bitten into it.

Cassandra rolls your Bath chair over to you. “Maman, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. You’re not gonna be of any use to Ecaterina if you run yourself ragged.”

You smile at Cassandra’s brutal honesty as she helps you into your Bath chair. “You’re right, dearest.”

Alcina stands up, having finished burping Ecaterina. She looks affectionately over at her daughters taking care of you and you see one of the first genuine smiles from her that you’ve seen in weeks. “You’ve been so good to Maman these past few weeks, dears. She and I really appreciate all the help you’ve given to us and Ecaterina.” She rests the hand not holding Ecaterina on the back of your chair and you take her hand in yours, kissing her knuckles. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away this time. “It’s time for us to put Ecaterina down for her nap and for me to change Maman’s bandages. If you’ll excuse us, loves.”

The girls nod in agreement and vanish into their bug shrouds. Alcina turns around and settles Ecaterina into her cradle. Ecaterina gurgles, her eyes mirroring the gold in Alcina’s. Alcina gives her a tender kiss on the forehead before turning to you. She motions for you to stand up and you obey as she kneels down to your level and helps you take off your day dress. Standing there in your slip with her hands on you reminds you of how long it has been since you have last felt her touch.

Alcina lifts up your slip ever so lightly and peels off the gauze bandage wrapped around your waist. Alcina sets her jaw as she uncovers the gashes she herself had inflicted on you. She takes off her gloves, dips the pad of her thumb in a jar of salve and applies it to your wounds. There is an unreadable expression on her face.

You try to give her an encouraging smile. “I talked to Sal the other day,” you posit. “He says that even though the wound is deep,if I don’t expose it to too much sunlight it won’t leave a scar!”

“Not a physical one at least,” Alcina mutters.

Ok. You’ve had enough. You turn her head to face you. “Darling, we’ve been over this,” you say, rubbing her cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “Are you going to keep punishing yourself forever?”

Almost despite herself, Alcina leans into your touch and interlaces her large fingers with yours. “I can’t imagine how much physical pain you must be in, my love,” Alcina whispers. “And all by my hand.” Tears begin forming in Alcina’s aureate eyes. “I nearly killed you.”

“You didn’t though, Alcina!” You move over to her lap and she gently almost tentatively wraps her arms around you and holds you close. You lean your head against her chest and resist the urge to sigh. It’s been so long since you’ve been held by your wife. “I know you were under Miranda’s control but something held you back from killing me outright. I know it.”

“You don’t know what it’s like being under someone else’s control.” You can almost feel Alcina’s body shudder as she recalls that night. “It was like I was outside my body watching myself. I was screaming at myself to stop when I kissed that woman.” The memory of your wife kissing Mother Miranda so passionately pops into your mind briefly but you shut it out as she goes on. “And when I stabbed you, I-” Her voice cracks. “I was practically begging myself to stop but my body just moved on its own.”

“Don’t you see, then, darling?” you ask. “You weren’t yourself when you were under Mother Miranda’s control. The person that kissed Mother Miranda, the person that stabbed me, that wasn’t you, so please.” You cradle Alcina’s face in your hands and stare into those beautiful discs of gold. “Please stop blaming yourself for this. Mother Miranda is dead. I’m alive. Our daughter is safe and healthy. That’s what matters now.”

Alcina kisses your forehead lovingly. “When did you get so wise?” she asks, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. You can see that you’ve finally gotten through to her. Her body posture is more relaxed, her jaw is loose, and her shoulders aren’t so tight. She carefully places the new bandage over your wound and you feel a pleasant tingle as you feel her bare fingers brush briefly over your tender skin.

She moves to pull your slip over your new bandage but you take her wrist before she can withdraw it. You hold her gaze as you take the strap of your slip off your shoulder and your slip coils in a pool of silk around your ankles. She takes you in her arms and brushes her lips against yours briefly. When she pulls aways, you see the same desire in her eyes. “Are you quite sure, ingeras?” Alcina asks, brushing the back of her knuckles against your cheekbones.

“Yes” you rasp. “Take me to the bed.”

Alcina picks you up as you wrap your legs around her waist, taking care not to touch your sensitive wound and carries you over to the bed. She gently, almost reverently lays you down on the bed. She lowers herself down to kiss you again and you bury your fingers in her curls. Alcina deepens the kiss, her tongue coaxing your mouth open as you unfasten the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. “I’ll go slow for you, draga,” Alcina murmurs against your lips.

“Alright, let’s see how our little patient is doing today- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK?”

It seems like Heisenberg has decided to check up on you today.

With a frustrated growl Alcina moves quickly in front of you while holding her own dress up. “Yes, Heisenberg, that is in fact what we were setting out to do before you arrived.” Alcina shakes her head at him derisively. “You seem to have impeccably bad timing, as always.”

Heisenberg’s face is beet red again, you note with amusement. “Well, excuse me for trying to check in on my sister-in-law and my goddaughter! Speaking of which, really Alcina? Getting down and dirty with the kid in the room?”

Alcina’s cheeks are also sporting a lovely red color. “Ecaterina was asleep.” Amidst all the commotion, Ecaterina has already woken up and is crying. “Well, she was until you came in.”

The girls suddenly materialize into the room. “Mother!” Cassandra chirps. “I thought I heard Uncle Karl in here and- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK!”

Alcina covers her face with her hands. Bela takes the book that Daniela is holding and holds it so it’s covering the image of you and your wife on the bed. “Really Mother,” Bela tuts to herself.

Daniela doesn’t seem to mind. She turns to the two of you, unperturbed by the state of your undress and asks, “Can Uncle Karl stay for dinner, Mother, Maman? Please? It’s been so long since we’ve all had dinner together!”

You smile indulgently at her over Alcina’s shoulder. “Of course he can, darling,” you say.

“Fine,” Alcina mutters. "Now if you please, will all of you kindly get out of our room?”

The daughters vanish into the bug shrouds, chattering excitedly about what Cook is making for dinner. Heisenberg leaves too, chuckling softly to himself.

You turn to your blushing bride and give her a chaste kiss on the lips before you both get dressed and join your daughters for dinner.

Together. As a family.

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

I Won’t Be Long - A rather long one shot

(I have been working on this, what I call “Magda’s Worst Day”, for a while, and I only recently was inspired to finish it. Hence why I’ve been rather quiet in terms of posts. I can only torture my muse so much.

Basically, this story came about because of the “What have you done to my daughter?!” line. Alcina was in her chambers while saying that, therefore unable to see or know that Ethan was outside. So how did she know what happened to Bela, and who told her? 

My answer? Magda.

I did my best to follow the game’s timeline, but there might have been some condensing or stretching in order to make things fit. I’ve also included some brief cameos from other OCs Magda has interacted with. 

Please note, this is not an “Ethan Hate” story. Magda is simply reacting as one would in their given situation. Is this a sad story? Yes, in parts. Will you hate me for writing this? Maybe. Will you still enjoy reading it? I hope so.)

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

“You must hide. The man is a danger, and I wish for you to be safe. Do your best to keep out of all this. If he approaches you, play the helpless victim. Do not help him, but please do not hinder him either.”

“But I want you to stay safe.”

“You know that I always do, dearest. He is nothing but a man.”

“You literally just said he was a danger.” The press of Bela’s lips against Magda’s was enough the hush the smaller woman and soften her demeanor. “Kissing me in order to maintain the last word is technically cheating, you know.”

“True, but I did learn it from you,” the witch smiled. “I won’t be long.”

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

That conversation happened a little over an hour ago. Since then, Magda had quietly paced the floor of her workroom, occasionally stopping to listen for any sound outside her door. She prayed she’d hear the familiar drone of flies, but nothing came. Everything was unnervingly quiet. Magda did her best to reassure herself. She kept telling herself that the man was outnumbered three to one, that the girls would work together and remove him as a threat, that they couldn’t be killed.

The sudden barrage of nearby gunfire and shattering glass ripped away any comfort she had tried to retain. It wasn’t terribly close, but then again it wasn’t terribly far either. Worse yet, there was no celebratory laughter that accompanied the silence that soon followed. Worry gnawed at Magda’s insides, and she did the one thing that Bela had asked her not to do. She unlocked the door to her workshop, and left her hiding place.

Magda went through the halls in sock feet, wanting to make as little sound as possible. The last thing she needed was to run into the man by accident. Thankfully, the courtyard was deserted. Freezing, especially without shoes or a coat, but it was empty. Even better, the door leading to the dining room was still locked. That meant the intruder had not found a key or harassed one of the few servants who had a skeleton key to the various entryways. Magda was one of those servants. Being a seamstress, and a trusted one at that, gave her a few perks.

As much as she wanted to rush in, Magda knew better. She turned the key slowly, as the locks were heavy and made a distinct and rather loud click when undone. The door she also took time opening, just in case there was an armed madman standing on the other side. Finding none, she closed and relocked the door behind her. Best to keep him confined.

Cassandra’s laughter coming from the Main Hall signaled that she was keeping the intruder well occupied and, rather than risk an interruption, Magda turned to the much plainer door which lead to the kitchen.

Normally the kitchen was a warm place, full of the sounds and smells of cooking food for the human staff, but the rush of cold air that blew in as she entered confirmed a fear she had. Hurrying past the preparation table and ducking under the cuts of drying meat, Magda stopped short in the doorway to the connected storage room. What she saw squeezed her heart like a vice, making it difficult to breath.

Shattered glass and the remains of broken boards framed a large, collapsed pile of frozen flies. The room wavered and suddenly felt hot, despite the open windows. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t Bela, she tried to reason. It wasn’t Cassandra, as she had heard her laughter not moments ago. A small, hateful voice in her head whispered that this was Daniela, that Bela was still alive inside the castle, perhaps happily carving up the man with her sister, and what laid before her was Daniela. Magda hated to even think that, but right now she was mental begging the powers that be for that to be the truth.

Step by hesitant step, she approached the pile, acting as a windbreak when she knelt between it and the broken window. Tears began to cloud her vision as she saw pale yellow flies mixed in amongst the brown and black insects. Again, her heart wrenched inside her chest. Her skin burned and the walls of the room closed in as her anger grew and burst forth in a ragged scream of rage, sorrow, and anguish.

Why?! Why did he do this?! How did he even know?! Did he just get lucky with a stray bullet breaking a pane of glass? Why did he kill her? Why did he go after her? The cold would have been enough to stop her! She would have stopped the chase, and he could have gotten away, but he still decided to kill her! He killed her while she was hurting! He killed her while she was cold, alone, and separated from everyone. He killed Magda’s stea mică… her little star…

He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

Magda’s guttural scream was echoed by a rasping, undead one crawling up from the once boarded up passageway that led to the dungeon. In her emotional state, she hadn’t put two and two together. The boards were smashed going into the storage room rather than out into the passageway. The man had come up from below, meaning he had created a potential access point for the thralls to get upstairs.

“Căcat!” she cursed, scrambling as quickly and as quietly for a container in the other room. It would take the thralls a bit of time to coordinate and stumble their way up the stairs, but they would eventually make it and Magda was not about to let those disgusting things trample all over what was left of Bela.

She would also need to tell the Countess.

Grabbing one of the large basins used to hold drained blood, as well as any discarded towels or cloth she could find, Magda carefully moved every single fly she found into the container, scouring the floor for any the wind may have blown about, but always keeping a careful eye on the dungeon passage. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by those damn thralls as she finished.

The basin was… not as heavy as she thought it would be. That knowledge made her stomach sink and made her feel that much worse. She was carrying her love’s body, and it wasn’t heavy. It needed to be. The woman was seven feet tall! It should have been heavier! These stupid, unimportant thoughts made her tears start to once again fall as she returned to the dining room. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Bela,” she mumbled as a few hot tears fell on the flies.

One twitched in response.

Magda stopped at that. She was seeing things. In her grief, her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. Bela was dead. The cold killed flies. She was dead and the tear hitting the fly only made it look like it moved.

That was when the worst feeling in all of creation latched itself onto her.

Hope.

Leaning in close, she breathed a few times on a small clump of flies, letting her warm breath roll over them. And then she waited… Her heart pounding in her chest as she watched for something. Anything.

…A leg spasmed.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but Magda took it as a sign. A possibility. A tiny one at that, but she grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Hope was evil like that.

Covering the basin to shield the flies from the cold, she ventured back across the courtyard and towards Alcina’s chambers, locking any and all doors behind her because fuck this man and his doings. Make his shit life harder.

The Countess’ chambers were empty, which sent a chill of dread and terror down Magda’s spine. Had she fallen to the man as well or was she simply hunting him along with her daughters? Should she wait for her to appear? Right now, searching the castle was not the ideal thing to do, as she was unarmed, human, and she had no idea if the intruder would have mercy on her if she encountered him. Thankfully, her questions were answered as familiar heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Now all she had to do was explain to Alcina what she thought was possible. And hopefully not die in the the telling.

“If I can’t, I’ll do my best to bleed on you as I die, sweetness,” she told the basin of flies, trying to make a joke and do her best to smile. The latter crumbled as soon as the chamber door opened.

“Countess?” Magda’s voice was weak and shaky, full of fear, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth due to the look on Alcina’s face. It was one of surprise mixed with displeasure, which made sense as Magda should still be locked in her sewing room, not running around as she was currently doing.

“Are you not aware of our current situation, Magdalena?” Her tone was cool and reserved, as if she were waiting on Magda’s answer in order to decide the best manner of action to take.

“I am very much aware of the situation, Countess. Which was why I came here as quickly as I could.” she replied, uncovering Bela’s remains. The candelabra the taller woman had been holding streaked towards Magda’s head and the seamstress barely had time to duck.

“What have you done to my daughter?!” she roared, lunging forward and grabbing Magda by her neck. For a moment, fear and terror filled the seamstress’ mind, but she somehow managed to find her voice despite the vice-like grip upon her throat.

“It wasn’t me… the man… did this… the flies… not… not dead…” Darkness had started to creep around the edges of her vision before Alcina finally released her. Landing on the ground hurt, but the deep breath of fresh air she took afterwards was incredibly sweet.

“Explain yourself,” Alcina growled, stretching out those two words in a low and menacing fashion, one not at all suitable for a woman of her standing, but perfect for a mother seeking justice for her child.

“I heard the fight,” Magda rasped, throat still sore. “It was in… the kitchen. I found… Bela. I thought she was dead… but some flies reacted to my tears…. and warm breath. There’s a chance. That cold state they go into. She told me about it. Bela might not be dead. Only hibernating. If she can be warmed, maybe she can be saved.” Magda watched Alcina, eyes never turning away or blinking too rapidly. She didn’t want to give the woman any excuse or reason not to believe her.

The quiet between them lasted for what seemed an eternity, only to be interrupted by a low rumbling and draining of liquid coming from the next room over. They both heard it, though Alcina only gave the most subtle of glances in its direction. The pool in the Hall of Ablution had been emptied. The Countess’ iron grip was suddenly around Magda’s arm, pulling her back to her feet.

“You will take my daughter back to your workshop and you will keep her warm,” she hissed. “You will not leave her side, not even for a moment. Should I find you disobeying my instructions and wandering these halls while that impudent wretch is still in my castle, your life is forfeit. Is that understood?” Magda nodded, fear in her eyes. She picked up the basin, replacing the cover before being roughly escorted out of the chamber.

Once safely back in her workshop, Magda set about gathering her thickest fabrics; the wools, flannels, gabardines, and anything else heavy she had. She removed the blankets and comforter from her bed and did what she could to form a nest or bed for the flies. For a moment, she even considered cutting her forearm and dribbling some blood onto them, but if they weren’t moving then they weren’t feeding, and the last thing she wanted to risk was them somehow drowning in her own blood.

Magda did her best to obey the Countess’ instructions, as she was not about to risk Alcina’s wrath, not with her life on the line. However, if she did end up being wrong about Bela, maybe it would be better to join her in death. What was she thinking? Magda likely would die anyways. But, in terms of when, it would just depend on Alcina’s mood. So, the seamstress sat in silence, waiting and praying to hear the soft buzzing of fly wings as they slowly warmed up.

Instead, she heard someone faintly plinking the keys of the piano in the Opera Hall. Rather badly at that. Naturally, the all too familiar footfalls of an enraged Alcina soon followed. He must not have realized she was hunting him, Magda thought. Because what idiot would actually take the time to play the piano if they were actively trying to stay hidden? The brief retort of gunfire seemed to prove her point. Although she could only hear what was going on, Magda still had a brief chuckle as she imagined the man scrambling for his life away from Alcina.

Not that he had many places to run to. It was either to Magda’s workshop or the library, and as the noise of confrontation began to distance itself from her hiding place, she breathed a sigh of relief. The library it was then.

“How has this man managed to survive this long?” she softly asked Bela’s remains. As if in answer, gunshots rang out once more and the seamstress stood, wondering who he was fighting now. The previously reassuring knowledge that bullets couldn’t harm anyone in this house re-entered Magda’s head… but it was quickly dashed to pieces as she glanced back at Bela. Who had he gone after now? She needed to know.

For five long minutes, Magda stood at her sewing room door, with it cracked open enough to listen. But she heard nothing. No footsteps, no gunfire, no sounds of anyone.

If Alcina caught her, it would be death, a voice in her head reasoned.

So she simply would avoiding getting caught, another replied.

The distance to the library wasn’t far, and she could easily hear the Countess’ footsteps well in advance, allowing her to hide as she approached.

“I’ll be back soon, stea mică. I won’t be long,” she softly told the flies. A few seemed to twitch in response. God, she hoped that she was right in the foolish ‘not dead, only hibernating’ theory. Basin and flannel cloth in hand, Magda made her way to the library, hoping she wouldn’t need what she carried.

Her heart sank upon feeling the chilly air inside. Papers were scattered, vases lay shattered, and, near enough to be in the light cast from the glass skylight which acted as a central decorative point for the room, was another large pile of immobile flies. Magda actually needed a moment to sit and collect herself with this discovery. Little flies, whose bodies glittered in the light, matched Daniela’s hair color.

Alcina will weep, Magda thought as she did her best to keep her own tears from falling once more. Gathering up these remains took longer than Bela’s, but not because they were scattered about. No. For as messy and wild as Daniela was in life, she had collapsed in a neat little pile. It was the weight and knowledge that this was the baby of the family which made this such a long and arduous task.

“You’re not alone, Dani. I’m not letting you be alone. I’m taking you to your sister. You’ll be safe in my sewing room,” She told the flies. Could this have been the first sign of madness? After all, Magda was talking to a container full of potentially dead insects. She recalled the character of Renfield from Dracula. The man went mad in an effort to serve and worship his vampire lord. Perhaps she was becoming something along the same lines. Perhaps she was already dead; killed by the intruder, and this was her own personal hell of gathering up mounds of flies throughout the castle for the rest of eternity, all the while avoiding Alcina. If Bela’s nest was not in the workshop when she returned to it, Magda figured this terrible thought would be reality.

Thankfully, upon opening the door to her workshop, the comforter and blanket that Bela was nestled in was still where the seamstress had left it. So maybe she was not dead and this was not hell. Little miracles were all she could hope for right now.

Magda took her time making Daniela’s nest, listening for anything that would signal they were victorious and this man-thing was dead and gone. She shook her head a little as she used that term. Normally, Magda did not join in on calling men that, but this was a special case. This individual didn’t seem human. The fact that he could best two of the daughters worried her, and a dread feeling that, unless mother and daughter combined forces, Cassandra could fall as well filled Magda’s stomach like a lead weight.

The daughters were monsters, yes. By the classic definition, that’s what they were, and Magda did not deny any of it. Blood stained dresses, screams and laughter coming from the dungeon, or even the rare times when Bela’s kisses had a slight hint of copper or something raw tasting to them. They weren’t normal. Alcina was also a monster; perhaps even more of one. The height, the claws, the gray skin that she hid beneath layers of foundation. All four of them shared that same inhuman appetite for blood and flesh. But, they also had human tendencies. They laughed, they cried, they screamed in fright the odd times they were scared or taken by surprise.

Then again, humans could be monsters as well. History showed how terrible they could be. Magda was certainly no angel, and she had the odd feeling that this man wasn’t entirely a good person either. Maybe she was wrong. Magda didn’t know. All she knew was that she was trying to save the small group of friends and family she had left in this world.

Minutes ticked by and still her wing of the castle remained quiet. The longer it stayed quiet, the more she worried. If the man was dead, Alcina would have come to her workshop to see to her daughter. But if the quiet persisted? Magda didn’t want to think on that.

“Should I go out and search?” she asked her charges. Of course, no reply came. Magda thought she saw more movement from Bela’s flies, but she had no idea if they all needed to be restored to a proper temperature, like a hive mind, before they could respond. With the way Magda had layered everything, they would warm up slowly and naturally. No artificial heaters or fires were being used, as she didn’t want to risk damaging them. After watching both mounds for a few minutes, the seamstress nodded, knowing once more what she had to do.

The castle had an unusual quietness, a stillness she had never felt before. There was always at least some sort of background noise; the shuffling of servants, the daughters’ laughter, the general noise of a home being lived in. Where was everyone? Had the man killed them all? Or were Sylvia, Andre, Samuel, Bianca, and the rest hiding in the servant’s quarters, having barricaded themselves in? Vulga likely would have escaped into the walls upon hearing the first gunshot, so she was probably safe.

At least there would be some survivors of Castle Dimitrescu.

Finding Cassandra took a long time. Besides hiding from both the constantly patrolling Alcina and the seemingly trigger happy mad man, Magda had to think like the middle child, who had the tendency to spend time in the oddest of places. While Bela and Daniela could be found in seemingly normal locations in the castle, Cassandra explored. She found hidden areas that were unknown to most of the inhabitants, hard to get to, or simply dilapidated enough and impossible to access unless you could fly. Magda assumed she enjoyed being hard to find.

The seamstress had searched damn near every room, after having briefly hidden for a few heart-pounding minutes in one of the dressing room wardrobes upon hearing Alcina’s approach. Currently, she was sitting in the back hallway, taking a moment to try and mentally collect herself. Magda hated failing, and right now she was absolutely in sync with the idea that she was a failure. Cassandra, as far as she knew, had simply disappeared. Had the man shattered a window and thrown her outside? If that was the case, then the chance of finding the young woman dropped to impossible odds. The castle was surrounded by woods and cliffs with sheer drops. Maybe… if the snow and cold somehow preserved her through the winter, Cassandra would show up in the spring, like crocuses.

At that thought, Magda let slip a sharp little laugh while, at the same time, her eyes began to water. Cassandra would hate being compared to a flower. She would absolutely have hated it. And for as much as Magda wanted to continue to both laugh and cry right now, it would certainly draw unwanted attention from one of two parties currently in the castle. Possibly both.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she allowed herself a few calming breaths before pushing herself back to her feet and continuing this fruitless search.

The slight draft blowing on Magda’s hand from beneath the door stopped her. Yes, castles were drafty, but not this one. Alcina made certain to insulate everything as best she could so her daughters could survive the winter in relative comfort. But, there was a definite bit of air movement coming from under this door.

Opening it, Magda found the Statue of Pleasure…. with an animal skull in place of the sacrifice’s head. Not even Cassandra or Daniela would be foolish enough to ruin one of their mother’s statues. So, on top of being a murderer, this man enjoyed defacing both art and private property. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The indignity aside, the windows in this room were intact, so where was the draft coming from? The only other option was the fireplace, but if the chimney was that badly cracked, why wasn’t it sealed? Crouching in front of it, the reason quickly became apparent as the entire back of the fireplace has been removed, and the hole led to a set of stairs.

“Cassandra, you little shit.”

Crawling through the passageway, Magda entered what looked to be the remains of a hidden armory, or at least a place to stash and work on things a certain daughter didn’t want her mother to learn about or her sisters to interfere with. It would have been a lovely little room had it not been for the gaping hole in the wall, letting in all the cold air. And there, near enough to the stairway, laid what was left of Alcina’s middle child.

“At least you were smart enough to fight him in a room without windows,” Magda commented as she gathered her up. Cassandra was vicious and violent when she wan’t to be, but she was also calculative and observant. Perhaps that’s why she lasted as long as she did. Had she sacrificed her sisters in order to study this man? If Magda were the girl’s mother, they would definitely be having a talk about that later.

With the last of the Dimitrescu daughters safely bundled up, Magda began to make her way back to the workshop. As it was nearly on the other side of the castle with no direct route, she took great care to move as quietly as possible. She paused repeatedly, and scanned the Main Hall, looking for signs of the the woman in white. For as large as she was, Alcina was a stalking beast. She could be incredibly quiet if she wished to be.

As she crouched in one the small balconies, Magda heard movement coming from below her on the floor of the main hall. However, it didn’t sound… right. It couldn’t have been the intruder, unless he was gravely injured. But If that were the case, Alcina wouldn’t have been far behind, and Magda didn’t hear her at all. Speaking of the Countess, it certainly wasn’t her, as the noise was far too small to be anyone remotely her size.

Chancing a look, Magda peeked over the edge, and a soft gasp of surprise, sounding so devastatingly loud in this silence, escaped her lips as she saw what was beneath her. Luana, the castle’s head servant, the personal watchdog for the Countess, laid collapsed on the marble floor, clothes stained red with blood. Where had they been all this time?! Magda had scoured entire castle… Had they been outside and only just now managed to get in? This just made her life ten times harder. Not only did she have Cassandra to carry back, but now there was the issue of Luana as well.

She could have left them where they were. She could have. After all, Magda was currently disobeying orders and Alcina was already displeased by her previous actions. She should have taken Cassandra back to her workshop and then returned. By then, perhaps Alcina would have discovered Luana herself and… done what? She was hellbent on hunting down the intruder. Would she even have stopped and tended to her servant? Magda couldn’t say. She also had no idea what would have happened if the man found them first. Would he finish the job he clearly started? In all likelihood? Yes.

Tucking Cassandra safely in an out of the way corner by the top of the stairs, Magda made her way down to her fellow servant, glancing into the Hall of the Four as she went.

The doors leading to the Temple of Worship were open.

In all her years there, Magda had rarely seen those exterior doors stand open as they were now. The Countess was strict in her orders about that portion of the castle being forbidden to everyone save herself, and now the seamstress was watching her tall figure ascend the temple stairs. An unknown fear filled Magda with dread at that sight, and she hurried towards Luana.

Rolling the head servant over onto their back, Magda gave them a quick look over. Buckshot, and a few normal bullet holes, peppered Luana’s blood soaked torso. A normal human would have been dead from such injuries and blood loss, but Luana was thankfully not fully human, rather a Lycan-cross. They usually preferred not to speak of their heritage, but Magda hoped they would be happy to have it just this once.

“Luana? Luana, dear, can you hear me?” she asked, opening their eyes to check for any sign of life. She was met with slurred, half-conscious Portuguese. “You know damn well I don’t speak that, but right now any response is a good one, so I’ll take it.” The bleeding had stopped and their breathing seemed normal from what she could tell; no gurgles, bloody froth in the mouth, or sounds of difficulty.

“…Apologies…” they said in Romanian, doing their best to sit up.

“You’re fine. I’m just happy to see someone else, aside from the Countess, alive,” she replied. Their uniform already ruined, Magda removed Luana’s jacket and began tearing off bandage strips. Or at least she started to, as a distant crash and a devastating roar from outside quickly stopped her efforts. Whatever injuries seemed to be afflicting Luana were momentarily forgotten as they did their best to stand, only to collapse almost immediately. As they attempted it a second time, Magda moved to support them. She didn’t even say a word or caution them to take it slow as the two of them made it to the open doorway.

And what they saw? There were no words.

It was huge. A great beast, vast and terrible, with an immense wingspan, lashing tail, and a toothy, gaping maw circled the top of the temple tower; sometimes flying, sometimes crawling along the stonework. It was pale white with streaks of pink flesh, slick and glossy looking as the sun hit it. Muscles bulged as if barely contained by the skin, as tendrils curled and whipped about in an independent fury. It looked both cancerous and incomplete while at the same time horrifically beautiful and awe-inspiring in some inexplicable way. And to top it off, as if in an absurd gilding of the lily, Alcina’s upper torso, looking flayed and monstrous, erupted from between the beast’s shoulder blades. Her voice was distorted, both by rage, vengeance, and sorrow, but also by this transformation. She was lost in this madness, fully given in to it.

Magda’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor, unintentionally bring Luana down with her. The seamstress was lost. How was this even possible? How had Alcina become this gargantuan beast? Could she change back? A sudden sick feeling rolled over her as all these questions and more filled her head. She was sure Luana was thinking similar things.

All they could do was watch this battle as it unfurled. Stonework and roofing tiles fell freely as the dragon creature did its best to pursue its quarry. Gunfire was heard regularly as Alcina taunted, threatened, and cackled in her torment. The fight moved steadily upwards, with more and more of the building being destroyed until a bloodcurdling shriek was heard and something structural gave way.

Multiple somethings.

Large plumes of dust, broken window, and cracks forming in the side of the building were the indication that the dragon had fallen through all of the interior floors of the temple, landing with a massive crash.

Magda and Luana looked at each other and then back towards the temple. “How about we wait and listen for movement?” the seamstress started to offer, but the head servant was already stumbling towards the building, trying desperately not to once more fall onto their face. They didn’t get very far before collapsing, but Magda was there to lift them back up. “How about a compromise? We get to the temple door and listen before barging in?” At that, Luana nodded a little sheepishly.

If Magda had thought the castle had been quiet, the inside of the temple was a veritable tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t a literal one. At least not for Alcina. Let the man be buried under all that rubble. Unfortunately, her wish was not yet granted, as she saw the limping figure of a man leaving through the lower level door. All she needed was a gun. Why didn’t she or Luana have a pistol? One bullet through the back of his damned head, that’s all that was needed and all this terribleness would be over with.

But instead, Magda just stood there, watching him leave before her gaze turned to Alcina’s body. It was still that dragon creature, but she had just come to accept that this was the Countess. Luana was already making their way down to her, carefully using the broken rubble as a stairway. Magda reluctantly followed suit.

The beast may have remained, but the human torso that was Alcina? That was gone, crumbled to ashes. The body was also still. Seeing that, Magda sat down hard, shocked by it all. Luana at least made it to the corpse, but they soon collapsed as tears began to fall.

Theirs was an ugly crying, one that Magda had never heard from them before. It was a full body shaking, heaving from the gut sort of crying. Luana had been serving House Dimitrescu since they were a teenager, and they saw Alcina as a mother figure, so Magda could only imagine what they were going through.

Letting them grieve for a few minutes, Magda eventually stood and walked over to Luana, placing a hand on their shoulder.

It was then that the beast took a great, shuddering breath.

Instincts quickly took hold and Magda scrambled backwards, not wanting to risk being eaten, while Luana did the opposite and moved closer, overjoyed to see some sign of life coming from the creature. She expected to hear a scream or cry of pain from Luana, imagining the creature lunging forward and devouring the head servant in one or two gulps. But instead, when the seamstress looked back, she saw Luana petting its head, saying soft things to it in Portuguese as it just laid there, barely making any noise.

“You are either very brave, very trusting, or very stupid to be petting that thing,” Magda hissed, keeping her voice down low, as if raising it would trigger the beast to attack them both.

“It knows me… us. It won’t hurt us,” Luana replied calmly.

“How do you know that? How is it even still alive?! Alcina’s torso is gone! The thing should be dead!” In response to Magda’s outburst, the thing growled, slightly turning its head in her direction. “… All right, I’m clearly wrong in my assessment of life and death. But that still doesn’t explain why or how.”

“Separate functioning systems? Maybe it all… pinched shut when the torso disintegrated? Like a limb or a tree branch that’s dying? Save the main body?” Luana offered.

“I would have thought Alcina would have been the main body. Can she regenerate from this?” Magda asked. Luana simply shrugged.

“We take her back to the castle and see what happens over the next few hours or days.”

“Easier said than done,” Magda replied, gesturing to the rock they scaled down and the all too small door was the only other exit.

“If it is a simple creature, then it will respond to simple things like food. She will need to eat anyways. We lure it back with food,” Luana reasoned.

The kitchen was thusly raided and a good bit of the meat that was there removed; both cured and what was still fresh. Amazingly, despite having heard the shrieks of the thralls earlier, the kitchen was now devoid of them. Had they wandered back down into the dungeon after finding no prey? Or were they all dead? Magda could only wonder as she glanced towards that corridor, her eyes wanting to linger on the spot where she found Bela. No, she thought. No, Bela was safe in the sewing room with her sisters. Magda had made a brief detour to deposit Cassandra there, as well as retrieve a pair of shoes for herself, before joining back up with Luana in the kitchen.

Along with the meat, they also brought along two barrels from the tasting room, placed at strategic points along the route back to the castle, in case extra bribery was needed for the beast. By the time they had finished setting everything up, the Alcinadragon… for what else would you call it?… was on its feet, clumsily walking around its temporary enclosure. Naturally, after throwing down the first piece of meat, with it being consumed in a single bite, the beast’s attention snapped to the two of them as it began the effort of climbing its way up towards freedom.

Magda knew better than to run. After all, doing so would likely trigger hunting and chasing instincts. But still, once the massive forelimbs appeared and the beast pulled itself up and over the lip of the hole, she made sure to be a good distance away, keeping Luana between it and her.

While this was something she normally would never state, on pain of death, it was rather easy to lead this version of Alcina around by her stomach. So long as they had a trail of food, she was easy to please and keep relatively docile. In the end, they only needed one barrel as a treat, though it wasn’t quite that. As they passed it on the bridge, the creature must have smelled the contents, or perhaps recognized the shape…. but how that was possible, Magda had no idea, as it had no discernible eyes right now. Either way, the tooth lined maw easily engulfed the barrel and bit down, splintering the wood and draining the contents quickly. Afterwards, the creature seemed more agreeable.

Maybe it had just needed a drink.

By the time they had entered the Hall of The Four, the remaining castle staff had emerged from their hiding places. There were no reprimands or excuses given, only looks and sighs of relief. Bianca, Sylvia, and Mihaela quickly flocked to the form of the Countess who was currently gorging on wine and meat. Samuel latched themself onto Magda with a tight hug; one that she was not exactly ready to receive, but she was also not about to deny them this comfort. Vulga also soon joined in, likely in an effort to make Magda feel even more uncomfortable.

“If you two insist on being this close to me, I will be putting you to work,” Magda told them both before taking them to her workshop and retrieving the three sisters. Sam took Daniela, Vulga carried Cassandra, and Magda held Bela close. The urge to place the daughters next to their mother was great, but caution won out instead. Who knew if or how the Alcinadragon would react to seeing her children as nothing more than collections of flies? Yes, they were becoming more active, but there was no indication they were on their way to reforming back into their human shapes. They just need time, Magda thought. That’s all. They’ve been through trauma, and they just need time to recover.

Even though it was not yet midday, It was decided that everyone would spend the night in the Main Hall. It was the inner most room, central to most of the castle, and it was big enough to house all of them comfortably, even a dragon with a massive wingspan. There would be safety in numbers.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Magda asked Luana quietly.

“No. As far as he is concerned, everyone here is dead. Whether that is true or not…” They paused, not wanting to say the unthinkable. Understanding, Magda nodded and finished their sentence.

“…It’s best to keep up that appearance.”

“Precisely. We keep everyone centralized for the time being. Close off and safeguard the exit points, stay quiet, and wait. With any luck, things will be different twenty-four from now. Or at least there will be an indication of a difference.” The look the two of them shared was one of tiredness and threadbare hope. There wasn’t much left to run on, but so long as the lady of the house still drew breath, no matter what form she took, they still had their duties to attend to.

“Even if the man isn’t coming back, no one is going down to the outer gatehouse and drawbridge by themselves. One of the lords is currently weakened, you are still recovering from being shot multiple times, and while my mind may be playing into the medieval hierarchy of things, I wouldn’t put it past other things going wrong and our current situation being taken advantage of. We’ll go together. It’ll be faster that way.”

Despite initial outward appearances, the castle was rather impenetrable once locked down. A drawbridge, three heavy doors of varying designs dividing the exterior gatehouse, a massive portcullis at the Carriage Gate, and a smaller, but just as fortified, portcullis on the interior of the entrance hall that kept the front doors closed from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they would be safe and secure.

More of the staff wanted to assist in the closing of the gatehouse, but they were dissuaded by a few other duties; securing the door leading to the temple, keeping an eye on Alcina, and gathering up any supplies they would need for the night. They were also greeted by another unexpected task upon opening the castle doors.

In the middle of the Carriage Gate rested four crates; three of a similar size and one that was noticeably larger. Nothing had been ordered, and the Duke had packed up his caravan, vacating his usual spot some time during the battle with Alcina. Yet the note tacked onto the larger crate was in his elaborate, flowing script:

I’d wager these treasures are of more use to you than I. Think of this as a thank you for your years of patronage, as well as a farewell gift for the time being. Keep them safe.

Bonne chance,

The Duke

The lids came off easily, and inside, nestled amongst packing material were… statues? Odd ones at that. Beautiful, crystalline, and perhaps a bit macabre, they were three busts and one massive torso with what seemed to be very familiar proportions. Either the Duke had a sick sense of humor or this was something else.

“Take these inside,” Magda instructed, still a bit confused as to what they were. “Be careful with them. Don’t damage them.” She then hurried to catch up with Luana who had decidedly not stopped to investigate the crates.

While neither of them ventured out into the village, the lack of the noisy day to day life that would normally filter up from it was obvious and more than a bit unnerving. Yes, there were the occasional barks and growls from whatever lycans were still prowling around the buildings, but there were no sounds of people. That lack of background noise twisted Magda’s stomach and made her raise the drawbridge that much faster.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow, we will search the village. Look for survivors,” Luana reassured her.

“I don’t think there are any other survivors,” she replied morosely, as her thoughts immediately went to the one person outside the castle that Magda actually cared about. Stay safe, Donna. Please God, keep her safe.

With each barricade put into place, Magda felt both safer and more alone… cut off from everything. But this was what needed to be done. As the final portcullis fell into place in the entrance hall, a burden lifted from her shoulders. There was still that sick feeling in her stomach, but her back felt lighter.

Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t deserve to feel better.

Everything was starting to blur together, and she didn’t care anymore. Magda remembered entering the Main Hall and seeing the Alcinadragon curled protectively around the crystalline torso that shared the measurements of the Countess, growling at anyone who came near it. She didn’t care or wonder why. Someone called out her name as she climbed the stairs, but she ignored it, legs carrying her faster and faster as she went. She didn’t want to talk. Her head, neck, and chest felt hot. She felt smothered and unable to breathe. She needed to get away.

By the time she was in the Hall of Joy, Magda was running. The library was a blur, as was the opera hall. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing, as if her brain was on automatic. All she cared about was getting away.

She slammed the door to her workroom shut, turning the lock as well in order to keep herself physically, mentally, and emotionally away from everyone. She managed to go a few steps into the room before her knees gave way and she collapsed into a heap. That’s when the floodgates of emotion just opened up. She screamed and wailed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the pain and the burdens accumulated from this day, from these past few hours, came roaring out.

She had no idea how long she cried, nor how many in the castle heard her. She didn’t know if anyone knocked on the door to check on her, nor did she care. She would have ignored it anyway. At one point early on in her anguish, her stomach heaved. Only bile came out, as she had eaten nothing this entire day, but the wretching continued until even that was entirely discarded from her system. She cried until her tears ran dry; until only hiccuping breathes and weary, burning eyes remained.

Throughout all of this, there was one constant in Magda’s mind. She knew that if anyone, and she did mean anyone, interrupted her in this moment, there would be hell to pay. The staff had seen her mad and frustrated before, but they had never seen her rage. If anyone tried to comfort or hold her right now, they would be met with punches, thrown objects, and a slew of filthy, hate-filled words that she would likely regret at a later date. Perhaps even shears to the intruder’s throat, if she could reach them in time.

She didn’t want comfort. She wanted this pain. She wanted to hurt.

But most of all, she wanted her Bela.

Eventually though, the pain did subside. It slowly dulled and dissipated. To say it was completely gone would have been a lie, but it had settled for the time being. Magda’s body ached, as did her head. The floor beside her was a mess, but she made an effort and took the time to clean up the bile. She couldn’t stand having such a thing lingering in her workshop, no matter her mood or the circumstances. The process also helped the seamstress return to a semblance of herself.

After a change of clothes, a quick washing of her face and brushing of her teeth, Magda made her way back to the main hall. Samuel was lingering in the hallway, shuffling around a bit in an effort to entertain themself while probably waiting for Magda to re-emerge.

“Hey, Magda? Are… are you okay? Do you need anything? A hug maybe?” they asked, holding their arms open. Magda just shook her head and continued on. “Ice cream, maybe? We could sit and watch a movie together Not a scary movie or anythin’, but I’ll sit and watch something you’d like if it makes you feel better.” At that, Magda just sighed.

“Sam? Right now, what I want? I can’t have. So, please? Just let me go sit in peace next to what is left of the woman I love. All right?”

“Yeah, um…. about that? Okay, so we brought the statue things in like you said, but as soon as we did, the dragon thing that Lady D turned into? Yeah, she got real defensive and grabbed the big statue and isn’t giving it up. So, we then took the smaller ones and the fly piles got really active. Like super, super active. I mean, they’re not buzzin’ around like normal or human, but-“ Magda didn’t even wait for Sam to finish. Once more, she was off and running.

The daughters were on the opposite side of the fireplace from the Alcinadragon, though pretty much everyone was on the opposite side from her, as she took up an entire length of the hall. Samuel had actually been right, as the flies were more active since the last time she saw them. While not swarming, they were crawling over the statues, or rather, individual statues. Now that she was able to look at them properly, Magda could discern the shapes of the daughters in the torsos. Bela’s she knew well enough, and Daniela was a bit slighter than Cassandra… and all the while the appropriate flies were crawling over the appropriate statues. She still had no idea what they were for, but clearly they held some importance.

Whether it had been intentional or not, someone had set Bela in the alcove under the stairs, allowing a bit of privacy and seclusion if it was needed. Obviously, Samuel or someone else had taken Magda’s breakdown into consideration. Normally, the seamstress did not enjoy having special things done for her, but at the moment, she was not about complain.

Sitting on a blanket with her back against the wall, Magda actually managed to take a breath and relax for the first time that day.

They were alive.

Whether due to the added heat, time to recover, or whatever these odd statues were, the daughters were alive and moving around. They would be all right. The Alcinadragon had a forelimb curled around her own statue, surrounded by her favorite maidens, and was practically asleep, if her breathing was any indication. She would be all right. None of the servants had been gravely injured in the long term. The current state of the castle was an odd miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Looking at the crystalline statue beside her, Magda gently placed her fingertips upon it, in hopes that it would pulse or feel abnormally warm. That wasn’t the case, but one of the pale yellow flies that had been idly traversing the torso’s clavicle almost immediately changed direction and climbed onto her hand. Smiling, either from happiness or exhaustion, she brought the insect closer as it proceeded to march into the palm of her cupped hand. It happily buzzed and bumped its head against her skin, settling down in the warmth as Magda gently stroked it.

As if energized by her touch, the fly took to the air and landed in the hollow of the seamstress’ neck, where it buzzed and bounced around more; its little wings tickling her just enough to elicit a soft laugh from Magda.

“Hi, stea mică…” she said softly, body instinctively relaxing to that sensation. Magda wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or something else, but as her eyes closed and sleep began to take her, she could have sworn she heard Bela’s voice in the drone of the fly.

I won’t be long.

EPILOGUE:

“Magda? Magda, wake up. Somethin’s happening,” Sam’s voice cut through the blackness of sleep. The seamstress groggily rubbed her eyes and looked around, remembering where she was. Instinctively, she looked over at the Bela statue, worried for a moment at that she would find. The concern was unfounded as it was mostly covered by a swarm of flies, more than what she had seen prior to falling asleep.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up. The Alcinadragon was still asleep, her harem of maidens still tending to her. If it was possible, she too looked healthier.

“There’s something goin’ on in the village. Luana told me to get you. They’re in Lady D’s bedroom.” That made sense. The Countess’ chambers had a view that overlooked the village. It was a smart place to scout from.

Making her way there, Magda discovered that night had fallen, meaning she had slept most of the day away. Why hadn’t they woken her up sooner? She didn’t need to have her sleep schedule even more messed up. However, the not so far off explosions made her decide otherwise, as she quickened her steps up the stairs.

Luana was out on the balcony of Alcina’s chambers, watching a veritable firefight going on in the village. Massive waving tendrils were erupting from the ground, knocking what looked like military helicopters out of the sky as explosions and gunfire rocked what was left of the buildings.

“Have they come towards the castle?” Magda asked after taking it all in.

“No,” Luana replied.

“Then unless they come towards the castle, it’s not our fight. I’m not about to start something with a group that has guns, explosions, and…” An airstrike briefly interrupted the seamstress as she talked. “Whatever the hell that is!”

“I simply thought you would like to be made aware of this. It was wise that we closed up everything when we did.” Magda didn’t know why Luana was making her seem more important than she actually was. They were the head servant. She was just the seamstress.

“…… You’re going to sit out here until it’s over, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” At that, Magda sighed.

“I’m not staying out here all night. It’s too cold. I’d suggest that you come in from the cold as well, but you’re just as stubborn as I am. I’ll be inside on the chaise lounge if you need me. Please don’t freeze out here, Luana. I’m not about to lose you after keeping you alive.” With that said, Magda went back inside and made herself comfortable on the Countess’ furniture, something she’d never do normally, but this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Come to think of it, the large hole in the floor was also out of the ordinary. That hadn’t been there earlier today… What had happened here after she left with Bela?

She must have fallen asleep, since the next thing she knew, Magda was woken up by the sudden slamming of a door, followed almost immediately by being rocked off the chaise lounge by an earth shattering explosion. Broken glass rained down on her as the shockwave smashed the windows. For a brief moment, she thought a nuclear device had gone off and she waited for the incineration wave to burn her to a crisp. When none of that happened, and the castle remained standing, she looked around.

Luana was crouched against the door leading to the balcony, covering their head out of instinct. Brushing the glass from her hair, Magda cautiously stood up and looked out the window. Smoke filled the air, but as the wind carried it away, she could see a decently sized crater in what had been the ceremony site. There was nothing left of the tendrils from last night, just like there wasn’t much left of the village.

“What in the hell happened?” she mumbled. “Do you even now think there are survivors?” she asked Luana. In response, they simply pointed to the distant shape of a quickly retreating helicopter. For a moment, anger blossomed in Magda’s chest. If that man was on that thing? How dare he be able to escape so easily after causing all this destruction. But the feeling and hatred vanished along with the helicopter. If he was gone, then so much the better. Better for him to be gone and forgotten than to remain a problem for them all.

“Goodbye and good riddance, stupid man-thing,” Magda said, before turning her back on the sunrise and returning, with Luana, to her family.

[superhappyyellowrainbowsmoo-blog]

Cut the Ties #3

Another Chapter in the bag! Muriel belongs to @professionallydeadinside - all hail this amazing bean! and I suppose Capcom owns the rest... but we adopted it... so is ours now =3

ENJOY!

Chapter Three

Muriel managed to keep her distance.

Alcina was none the wiser when she entered her home, Castle Dimitrecu.

A grand gothic structure that was a spectacle to look at. A medieval marvel and such eye candy to any tourist – if they were allowed.

As Alcina made it through the grand doors, Muriel crept in through the crack of an open window. She just about managed to slot her body inside.

'Cassandra.' Alcina called out. Her voice echoed and bounced off the walls.

A swarm of flies invaded the hall then manifested into a woman. 'Yes Mother?'

Muriel hid herself on the second floor near the balcony, peering from one of Alcina's many vases, she watched on as the two women spoke.

'The dagger, I need it prepared for travel.'

The woman, Cassandra, blinked. The thought of the dagger, that poisoned blade terrified her, she almost lost her mother because of it. 'Why mother? If you are under threat we will protect you.'

Alcina smiled warmly stroked her daughter's cheek. 'That I am aware of but it is not for my sake, but for Muriel's.'

'Is she in trouble?' Cassandra worried.

'There's a high possibility but I'd rather douse that flame before it spreads. Now, quickly. I must make preparations.'

'Yes, Mother.' Cassandra bowed and burst into flies. They all flew off and down the hall with a faint buzz.

As her daughter left, so did Alcina. She clicked her heels out of the hall and up the stairs, Muriel crammed herself tight behind the vase so the tall lady did not spot the little girl.

Alcina opened her bedroom door and ducked into it, Muriel saw her chance and quickly scuttled into the room before the door closed and hid under the lady's large bed. She poked her head out.

Alcina was sat down by her dresser, she picked up the phone and twirled the number dial then waited for an answer.

'Hello, it's Lady Dimitrescu. I have a job for you.' She said. 'Oh yes, you will receive coin, plenty of it. I have a rather... cursed item of which I need you to hide. I'd like you to bury it at Life's Edge.'

Muriel tilted her head, she never heard of that place before.

'It'll be ready for you in the morning.' Alcina then put the phone down.

The woman then removed her large hat, then propped her elbow up on the table so to rest her head in her open palm. The woman sighed, it was obvious she was upset about something. She looked so glum in the mirror. Her eyes droopy and her lip pouting.

Muriel's pincers clicked a little, feeding off Alcina's emotion, it tasted sour and made Muriel feel bad, what this because of her?

She hated knowing that all she did was make other people feel bad. First with Donna and now Alcina.

As she watched on, Muriel saw another batch of flies enter the room. A redhead this time.

'Mother, I just saw Cassandra fiddling with that hell-dagger.'

'Yes, Daniela. I asked her to pack it up.' Alcina said rather miserably.

'But if someone else has it...'

'I am aware of what could happen, but,' Alcina smiled and lifted up her daughter's chin. 'You would do anything to make sure those you care about are safe, wouldn't you?'

'Of course, Mother. Anything.'

Alcina poked Daniela's nose 'I know you would.'

'Who is it you are protecting, Mother?' She asked.

'Muriel, although she is in Donna's keep, I do look upon her as my own.'

'She is lucky to have you, Mother.'

Alcina hummed a laugh through the nose. 'It is I who is the lucky one, my dear.'

Muriel felt a twinge in her heart that pinched her in the nose. Her eyes began to water, she knew Alcina cared for her but was not aware of the extent. It made it worse due to the fact that Muriel crept in with a motif to steal from her. She sighed heavily yet quietly.

Alcina graciously picked herself up from her chair and with Daniela, walked out of her room, Muriel followed.

Back in the main hall, Cassandra, now with Bela, was waiting. The brunette held in her hands a box with the Dimitrescu crest mounted on top of the fine wood. That has to be where the dagger was.

'Good girl,' Alcina purred. 'Leave it here, someone will be due in the morning to pick it up.'

'Mother, I have my doubts.' Cassandra said.

'As do you all, I am sure. I have faith that this will never bother us again.'

'But-.'

'None of this, do not work yourself up, my Cassandra.'

Cassandra stumbled then gave in. 'Yes, Mother.'

'If it means that much to you, Daughter, then may I suggest you guard it over the course of the evening?' Alcina asked.

'Yes, Mother. I'll do that.'

'Wonderful.'

Muriel kept her distance but her eyes remained on the Mother and Daughters, especially Cassandra. As three of them filtered out, leaving Cassandra alone with the desired box, Muriel knew this was the prefect time to strike.

Cassandra walked over to the box once everyone, everyone that she knew, left the room, her eyes dawdled upon the box. What rested inside was evil, it was used to kill her mother.

She shuddered remembering the day.

That man-thing – Cassandra did not bother to remember his name, managed to corner and chain her mother down, she was helpless and he was ready to puncture her heart.

If it wasn't for Alcina's screams that evening, the daughters would not have known of the predicament of which befell their dear mother.

Cassandra didn't want to look at it, even having it this close cut her deep, the fact that the little dagger was enough to defeat her mother made her sick.

Stupid man-thing indeed.

Cassandra turned her back and sat down beside the fire. Watching it wiggle in the pit was enough to settle the girl's mind. She was too engulfed that she did not see nor hear Muriel make her move.

The little girl tiptoed towards the pedestal with the box dead in her sight. Her focus shifted slightly to Cassandra, she could only see the girl's hood rest against the chair she sat on.

Muriel got close and closer, she reached out her arms, she was almost there...

It wasn't much longer until she found herself touching the both with mouth hands, she smiled as much as her pincers allowed before calmly snatching the box up and under her arm.

She stepped backwards then spun her heel around, only to hear the doors open... she stopped dead.

'Cass, I thought I'd... CASSANDRA!' Bela wailed, having spotted Muriel with the box.

Cassandra spun her head and saw the girl.

Muriel's eyes widened and then... she dashed off..

'Mother! Mother!' The daughters shouted.

Muriel kept running, clutching the box for dear life. She saw the exit, she was so close... but...

The grand doors in front of her rushed open, Alcina hurried into the room and looked down upon the little girl disappointedly.

'What do you think you are doing, Child?' She asked.

Before Muriel could react, she was grabbed by the scruff of her neck and pulled up to face Lady Dimitrescu properly. She then put out her hand.

'Give that to me.'

Muriel twisted so could face away from the lady. 'No.'

'Muriel.'

'I need it, to be better.'

Alcina scoffed. 'I suppose the Duke has informed you of his little fairy tale, hmm? Don't be ridiculous, Child, hand me back the box!'

'No.' Muriel repeated.

Alcina took a deep breath in and out. 'Muriel, I do not want to have to take it from you, you know I will.'

'But, Mother Miranda...' Muriel sniffed.

'You are not to worry about her, she is gone and not coming back, I'll make sure of it.'

Alcina's hand grew closer to the box stuck within Muriel's arms.

'Hand it to me, this is your last chance.'

Muriel twisted back round, Alcina didn't look angry, she was worried. Muriel knew to argue with her was pointless and so, begrudgingly, gave back the box.

Alcina took it careful, handling it as if it was hot as iron, and put it back into the care of Cassandra.

Muriel then found herself held close by Alcina, she was hugged tightly.

'I know you are going through a lot, but this is not the way, child. That dagger is not a toy, you'll get yourself hurt.'

Muriel snuggled against Alcina. 'I want to protect everyone.'

'No, Muriel, let us protect you. No girl should carry such a weight on their shoulders.' Alcina said. 'You will rest here for the night, I'll call Donna, I expect she is worried sick.'

[redinkofshame]

Arranged Marriage

Hipster AU did not spark joy, so I used the Arranged Marriage joker for day 3 of the @augustwritingchallenge. This is probably the last one I’ll do, unless I also do an arranged marriage for Cedric/Cassandra. It’s also my favorite one :D

The evanuris have survived to the dragon age, Fen'Harel included amongst them. In order to make peace with the free clans of elves a marriage is arranged between the Trickster and one of their own. Like all of Solas' plans, it goes awry.

1882 words, mature for smexiness but no actual hanky panky. Read on AO3

Wedding Night

“You still intend to go through with this, then?” Mythal asked.

Fen’Harel sighed, eyeing her reflection from where he stood surrounded by attendants. They made last minute adjustments to his wedding vestiments, buffed his nails, applied cosmetics. “I gave my word, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but even you must admit you have a proclivity for… last minute ‘tricks’. We must make peace with the free clans—”

“Easiest done with a marriage, and I am the only one amongst us who is yet unmarried, yes, I know,” he said, biting his tongue. He knew better than the rest of them how important this was; they continued to underestimated the power of the free clans.

“It’s merely surprising that you haven’t proposed some other crazy solution to avoid being tamed. You’ve been the lone wolf, all alone all these ages…”

He shooed away his attendants and sunk into the nearest chair. His hair dresser immediately made her move, beginning the bothersome process of brushing, curling, and braiding. An annoyance. A necessity. Long hair; the status symbol of a spoiled man who, supposedly, knew nothing of hard work, nor manual labor. No more a threat than a bunch of unaligned clans who could scarcely produce mages.

That is, of course, until he used this marriage to forge an alliance with his spouse’s people. The final key to in his plot to take down the Evanuris once and for all.

“All good things must come to an end,” he said with feigned disinterest. “Remind me the name of who I’m to wed again? That man from the garden with the curly hair?”

Mythal gave him a scathingly admonishing look. “Really, Fen, the least you could do is remember your intended’s name.” She kept up the look for another moment but when he gave no response she simply sighed. “You’re thinking of the ambassador they sent to announce that your bride was chosen by vote of the free clans at Arlathven.”

“She is important to them, then? A powerful mage?” he asked hopefully.

Mythal snorted. “Hardly. They say she has some skill with the arcane, but she’s better known for her sewing— no, embroidery.” He grunted in disappointment and she continued, almost to herself. “She’s no particular beauty, either. I can’t image she’s the best they’ve got to offer. Frankly, I’m tempted to take offense at the offering, but we already granted them permission to choose for themselves…”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It hardly matters what she looks like, so long as they care for her enough to lay down their arms.”

“I suppose. Her name is Keria, by the way, of Lavellan’s clan. Do try to remember it during the ceremony.” He felt her eyes on him, but kept his head bowed as his hair was adorned with golden toggles. “You know that you will have to gift her with her vallaslin during the ceremony as well.”

“Of course.”

Mythal stepped closer and lowered her voice. “A true vallaslin, Fen’Harel.”

The girl working his hair froze. He didn’t have to look at her to know that she, as all his servants, his “slaves”, wore a convincing imitation of his vallaslin on her face. He’d marked each of them with enough magic to keep them safe from the others, but it held none of the controlling or manipulation that a true vallaslin held.

He saw to it that his people followed him voluntarily, not due to fear or power. Many of them were agents of his grand plan playing a role until it was time to strike at the heart of their oppressors.

None of which Mythal was supposed to know, of course.

He met her eyes. “I understand.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, a silent threat, gauging his sincerity. At last, she nodded.

~~~~~

He remembered the name, of course, the ceremony lines, and the spell to apply a proper vallaslin to her pale face in front of everyone. Mythal’s assessment had been harsh — she was pretty enough. Her unruly black hair was short, of course, as was her place. He supposed she would grow it out, now. Her eyes were a shockingly bright blue, when he could get a good look at them, but she largely kept them averted. Her gown was a work of art. The cut of it was common enough, classic, but every inch of it was covered in painstaking embroidery. Her doing?

Not that her beauty mattered; he cared only whether or not she would become his willing ally in their fight, or if he’d have to use her new position as leverage. He’d expected her to fear him as the clans always did — with good reason. He was Mythal’s general, the attack dog she released whenever they stepped out of line or needed to be taught a lesson. At first he thought her unwillingness to meet his eyes was because she was afraid, or worse, because she loathed him. He would not hold it against her.

Surprisingly it was shy glances and flustered smiles he was met with. A blushing bride indeed.

The day was filled with much pomp and posturing, dancing and music and feasting and well-wishers and veiled insults and vague threats. Elgar’nan and the others were jumpy, so certain he was going to ruin this for them that they never considered it had been his idea to begin with. It was many hours before he and his new wife were able to retreat to his suite.

Or ‘their’ suite, he supposed, though he’d happily grant her separate chambers if she requested it. His rooms were plenty large enough for the two of them, but he didn’t relish the loss of this ability to move freely.

He left her for a moment upon entering to get familiar with the space as he stepped into the dressing chamber. He sighed in the relative privacy.

It was fortunate that Keria seemed to be a willing — perhaps eager — partner in this charade, but thus far she seemed too timid of a girl to bring honestly into his machinations. It would take some time to discern best how to proceed from here. In the mean time it was his wedding night…

He was certainly willing to bed her, but he would not press the issue. They needed to discuss rules and freedoms, what would be asked of her and what would not. What she could ask of him. He striped out of his vestiments and pulled on a pair of simple sleep pants. He did not bother with a shirt. He stepped back into the room.

“I think we should discuss our expectations…” He tailed off, not seeing her immediately. He found her in the dimly lit bedchamber, sitting on her heels at the end of the oversized bed, sheets pooling around her hips. She was naked except for the sash from her wedding gown tied loosely about her waist. When she saw him enter she raised to her knees, spread wide, and the blanket fell from her lap, exposing her fully. Her teasing smile beckoned him closer.

Well, then.

All thoughts of planning left him as his blood spiked, and he went to her. He stopped when he stood at the edge of the bed, inches from her, and pointedly looked her offering up and down. He reevaluated his own underestimation of her beauty.

“Lovely…” he murmured. His hand dropped and she arched her back in anticipation, her nipples tight, but it was the tail of the embroidered sash he took. “Did you make it yourself?”

To his surprise he laughed and shoved him playfully, illiciting a snort from him. “I did, in fact.” He ran his thumb over the intricate stitches and she shifted her weight nervously. “Do you, um, know a lot about embroidery?”  

“I don’t know much of the textile arts, I’m afraid,” he admitted, letting the silk slip through his fingers. “Perhaps you could teach me.”

She smiled coquettishly. “Oh, there’s a great deal I could teach you, Fen’Harel.” She sensually unknotted the sash.

He forced his eyes up to hers, determined to seem unaffected. “And here I thought I was wed to someone sweet and innocent.”

“Sweet? Sometimes. But innocent?” Keria flipped the sash up and over his head, where it settled like a scarf. “Certainly not.”

She tugged the ends of the sash and pulled him in for a kiss and he went easily, intrigued by this woman. He felt the brush of her lips but didn’t realize in time that she whispered an incantation, though his eyes flickered open just in time to see the hidden runes among the embroidered flowers light up, paralyzing him instantly. Her hand dashed beneath the covers and came up with a dagger that she plunged towards his chest.

The vallaslin on her face lit up as he activated it and staggered back, spell broken. She was frozen in place, mid-strike. His heart hammered in his chest in a way it hadn’t in decades, a mortal danger he rarely faced unwittingly.

No mortal blade could hurt him, but she would know that. Still shaken, he wrenched the dagger from her hand, careful not to nick either of them as she grunted, struggling to break free. He appraised the weapon, recognizing it easily even without the ravens in the hilt. It indeed would have been able to kill him, and was undoubtedly coated in enough poison to finish the job even if her aim ad been off. Smart.

“Dirthamen sent you, then?”

She still fought her bindings. He released her just enough that she could answer his question. “Yes.”

He tilted his head. She’d answered too quickly. He could see her tells, now that he knew what she really was. “A lie. Interesting. I’m only supposed to believe it was him.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” snarled his darling wife.

“Ah, a fair point. Me, murdered on my wedding night, and Dirthamen to blame. To what end?” She answered by spitting at him and he paced as he thought it over, able to see how it would have played out — Mythal would exact justice before Elgar’nan could stop her, and Dirthamen’s twin would retaliate. The rest of the evanuris would choose sides. War, distrust, ample opportunity for more little assassinations.

A simple enough plan. One that damn near worked.

He lifted the dagger and it hovered in the air between them. With a twist of his hand he rendered the shining, poisonous thing inert, watching as it turned dull and clattered uselessly to the floor.

Keria looked like she was ready to tear him apart with her teeth instead. “It doesn’t matter what you do with me,” she growled. “Others will succeed where I have failed. You cannot stop us all! Your days are numbered, Dread Wolf — you and every other evil, murderous, slaving evanuris!”

Wordlessly he walked to a wardrobe, feeling her eyes following him as she waited for him to strike her down. How much of her shaking was from anger, he wondered, and how much from fear?

He pulled out a dressing robe and turned back to his bride, every inch of her radiating defiance despite the hold he still had on her.

He tossed her the robe. “Get dressed, vhenan. We need to talk.”

[leah-halliwell92]

Not Much of a Slave

Summary: @xbreezymeadowsx​ requested some Lady D love. We can all agree she needs all the love. (WARNING: Mentions of rape 18+ only please.)

Brianne fidgeted with her apron for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. The lady and her daughters would be calling on her soon, she needed to be prepared for any eventuality. She knew that they could kill her in a heart beat her blood being of no use for her ladyship’s wine. She shivered as she remembered Anton’s alcohol laced breath on her face as she cried for help that never came. 

She could still see the look of betrayal on her father’s face when she arrived home. Her mother knew that the occurrence wasn’t one done willingly from taking one look at her ripped dress and reddening cheek. Her father however saw it as a slight and believed it to be staged in order for her to get out of punishment for laying with men while out of wedlock. Her mother’s gasp of outrage rang through their home at his blatant disbelief of their youngest child, your elder sister having married as soon as she was able. 

//flashback//

“She’s of no use now,” he said hatefully. 

“She was raped Jonathan!” Her mother yelled angrily, “How many a young girl has been hurt in such a way by Anton? You know more than well that he’d do such a thing when he is heavy in his drink.”

“You’d believe her sob story woman,” he said spitefully, “Don’t you see she’s playing you?”

Her mother scoffed, “Yes because one can rip their own dress in such a way and hit themselves hard enough to bruise.”

His glare did not waver and said, “She’ll be sold tomorrow to the highest bidder.”

Her mother gave a shrill cry as she slapped him hard across the face.

Brianne looked on in shock and despair as her father made his decision known. She is to be sold like an animal then. Anton would probably buy her after his actions earlier that day. And should that be the case then her death was as sure as the sky is blue.

“Have it be known Johnathan Smith,” her mother began passionately, “That on this day, for your choice to disregard your youngest child and Mother forbid sell her, you have lost your wife.”

Your father scoffed an attempted to approach your mother.

“Do not presume I’ll give in,” she said eyes hard, “You’ve already made the choice and there is nothing I can do to stop it. You’ve taken the last of my children from me and I have nothing else to give. Stay away from me John.”

She guided Brianne into her room where her mother proceeded to clean her up as best she could. 

“Let the shock run its course,” she said tenderly as she bathed you and changed you into your best clothes, “Better for it to make you hyperaware than in a complete haze.”

Brianne felt herself nod and let her mother fuss over her for the last time. 

Once dressed, she sat with you through the night neither of you feeling well enough to sleep until dawn broke. She saw her father at the breakfast table and opted to sit as far from him as their small house allowed. 

Breakfast was made for her and her mother, the latter letting father fend for himself, before they set off to the Duke’s. Her mother had said that if she couldn’t save you from being sold then she’d sell you to the one person that had the ability to set you free.

Little did the two of you know that freedom would come at a cost.

“We better make haste for–” Her mother cut Johnathan off.

“We’ll be at the Duke’s,” your mother said, “Whatever lei I get I will keep myself and use as transport, may life treat you as fairly as you treated us.”

Brianne looked at her mother eyes wide not expecting her to just make the choice to leave.

Her father remained quiet at this eyes wide as all seemed to hit him all at once, “You couldn’t...I forbid it!”

Her mother scoffed at this and said, “I remember forbidding you from doing anything rash against any of my children when we married. And yet you did, you made the choice to sell our youngest for something she had no control over.”

//time skip - 3 years//

You’d been in the care of the Duke for nearly a year when business took him to Castle Dimitrescu where her ladyship for some unknown reason took pity on you and bought you from the Duke’s service. The fat man seemed saddened by this and for the first time, possibly ever, haggled a for your price. 

“90k,” the lady had said, “And that is my final offer.”

The Duke mulled over the offer and was ready to deny the lady again when he saw you shake your head. It was a nice chunk of change you knew, you are after all just part of the business. 

//end flashback//

“Brianne!” Bela called giving the young woman a ‘playful’ shove, “Mother’s called for you.”

“Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Cassandra said poking at Brianne with the but of her dagger.

“Don’t slice at her Cassandra,” Bela said with a laugh, “You know how cheese gets everywhere.”

“I do, which is why I play with her,” Cassandra replied with a cackle, “Her blood spilled will paint the hallway oh so prettily.”

The flies swarmed about Brianne as she made haste in going to her mistress’ side. She let out a fearful scream as the flies engulfed her and carried her through the hallway the sound of triplet cackles in her ears and around her as they went. 

She yelped as she was practically dumped into the Lady Dimitrescu’s personal room. Brianne tried, and failed, to keep her wince and gasp of pain at bay as flies flew out from beneath her skin. The flies re-materialized as the three sisters, cackling as crowded her taunting her like wounded prey.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Lady Dimitrescu said loudly, standing to her full height. 

Alcina Dimitrescu looked down to find Brianne heaving on the floor.

“And why is my personal servant on the floor?” She asked cocking a brow as she glared at her daughters in displeasure. 

The sisters looked at each other in worry and curiosity. They’d always played with their mother’s toy, as they should since her blood is useless anyway they would take what they could get from her. After all, why should their mother care more for prey than her own daughters?

“She was being slow mother,” Bela said with a careless shrug.

“She is after all prey,” Daniella said backing up her sister.

“Should we not eat our prey mother?” Cassandra asked kicking Brianne’s arm as she was starting to stand.

“Enough!” Alcina said at Brianne’s pain filled gasp, “She is my personal servant. As my daughters you should know by now that while I share as it is ours to feast, when one is mine for my own use I expect that to be respected.”

The three girls cowered as their mother nailed them with a glare.

“Meaning that no one is to injure my personal pet,” she glared at them one last time before waving a dismissive hand at them, “Get out of my sight. You girls have disappointed me for the last time over my use of my pet and I’ve grown tired of it.”

The sisters glared at Brianne and Bela dared to take a swing at her in front of their mother.

Brianne cried out in pain as Bela’s hit sent her to the farthest wall.

Cassandra and Daniella dragged their sister out of the room before their mother could do anything the two in shock that their sister would go so far.

Her daughter’s gone, Alcina went to tend to their only living charge. She’d promised the Duke that the girl would remain unharmed despite her having paid a good sum of lei. Alcina has to admit that for some reason this girl pulled at her long dead heartstrings. 

She picked up Brianne tenderly being careful of where she’s been hurt. 

Brianne winced and said, “Their jealous you know.”

Alcina hummed as she ran a salve soaked cloth on her little pet’s cheek, “They will have to learn that a mother has needs.”

“They don’t understand why it is you are so caring over prey,” Brianne said honestly.

“You are not prey,” Alcina hissed, “You are mine.”

Brianne gave Alcina a tender grin and gave an experimental stretch.

“Better?” Alcina asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Brianne replied automatically. 

Alcina gave a her pet a grin and bent to her level. She ran her nose over the young maid’s neck breathing in her scent and blood.

“Good girl,” she said huskily, “I want you to come to me should my daughters get out of hand again. It is not their place to use you as they please.”

Brianne nodded at this but let it slide. While she’d do her best to let Alcina know there isn’t a guarantee that the sisters would leave her walking should a repeat performance occur. 

“Good,” Alcina said, “Now we must go to the church, Mother Miranda has ordered a family meeting.” “Do you think she’ll show up to this one?” Brianne asked as she followed behind Alcina out of the castle.

“Not sure,” Alcina said and waited the appropriate time as Brianne helped her into the old car, “But for all these meetings she made clear that she’s been favoring Heisenberg lately.”

“Which is good,” Brianne said carefully. 

“I suppose so,” Alcina said with a sigh, “After all the more attention is off me the more we can plan our escape. Donna’s been itching for company and Karl has promised that he will give me a signal when the time is right.”

“And the girls?” Brianne asked carefully.

“They shall either follow their mother or perish,” Alcina said pain in her voice and perfect features, “Mother Miranda’s goals do not include any of us Pet. And it took a human maid to tell me so.”

Brianne looked down submissively only to have Alcina raise her head up.

“Do not be ashamed my pet, you have done more for me than most have no matter how long or short their stay has been,” Alcina said with a gentle grin.

Brianne gave a silent prayer of the souls of her fellow friends and former neighbors.

In the church, Brianne kept her head down as she stood besides the bench Alcina sat in. Donna and Karl were already there and she was sure that Moreau was not too far behind. 

“Good evening sisters,” Heisenberg said with a respectful nod.

Donna nodded and Alcina gave him a small grin and nod.

Before anyone could say anything Moreau walked in and not too long after Mother Miranda walked in. Brianne knelt behind Alcina’s bench keeping as low a profile as she could whilst the meeting was in session. 

The meeting was swift, almost too swift for something to held face to face but she has no place to say anything. Least of all to the woman that can kill all of them with snap of her fingers should she want it. After Miranda left and Moreau not long after, Brianne took this time to stand and get the feeling back on her legs.

“Poor human can’t seem to find her sea legs,” Angie said with a squeal-y giggle.

Brianne sighed and held onto the back of the bench as the pins and needles thankfully subsided. 

Angie kept poking and prodding cackling as she went.

“Oh is the human getting angry?” The doll asked before laughing again.

With a sigh Brianne looked to Donna and said, “I truly am sorry for this. Should my lady allow it, I’d gladly join you for tea and keep you company.”

Donna cocked her head at this confused by Brianne’s words. 

“Whatcha gonna do about...hey what are you doing?” Angie asked when she saw the look in Brianne’s face.

“Fuck you crazy ass doll!” Brianne said frustratedly as she hiked up her skirt.

She gave a grunt as she gave Angie her best kick effectively sending the unsuspecting doll to the other side fo the church much to Donna’s dismay and Heisenberg and Alcina’s delight.

“About damn time someone shut that doll up,” Heisenberg said, “I have to say Alcina your girl does have some spunk.”

“I love you Donna,” Brianne said honestly, “But Angie has been grating at my nerves for months now. And this includes the errands I’ve run for my Lady.”

Donna nodded in understanding and quietly said, “Forgiven.”

Alcina had to grin at her pet, such spunk is truly a breath of fresh air. Luckily her human knew when to push and whom to push. 

Brianne heard the sound of heavy boots and knew Heisenberg was close.

Brianne turned to face him and though he is a handsome man, her interests lay else where as she is certain he can see from the fading bite marks on her neck.

“Must be nice to have a warm body to feast from Alcina,” Karl said teasingly.

Alcina was going to say something when Brianne said, “Better warm body than a cold shower...that is if you know what that even is.”

Alcina and Donna laughed at the dig.

Heisenberg reddened under the beard before chuckling, “Well played buttercup.”

“You my dear have earned yourself a treat when we return home,” Alcina said standing bidding Donna farewell and a “glare” at Heisenberg, “What do you say to a present tonight?”

Brianne’s face brightened at this causing Heisenberg to scoff but grin before nodding at them and leaving to his own home.

“Yes ma’am,” she said teasingly.

Alcina grinned at her, “Good girl.”

[theheraldsrest]

“Inquisitor’s romanced companion (Cullen, Blackwall, or Iron Bull) finally seeing the Inquisitor come back from a long journey.” Well, someone likes big guys. Let’s give this a try. -Cabot

Blackwall

He had been carving the same spot on his piece for some time, but it didn’t seem to register. Once in a while, he glanced at the entrance of the stables, thinking he saw something but it was always just someone walking or birds flying. Each time, he’d shake his head, tell himself to calm down, and try to focus on what his hands were doing. It had been a week and a half since the Inquisitor left, accompanied by Varric, Bull, and Sera. Not the most reliable bunch but he knew they would never let the Inquisitor be harmed. He couldn’t help it. She had said they would be back soon, yet she wasn’t and had all together stopped sending messages to him. The last one he had received had contained only a few words: Thom, miss you dearly. Stormcoast is, as ever, cold and wet. On the plus side, plenty of spindleweed. As if we don’t have enough of it already. I love you. He couldn’t stop himself from re-reading this same letter, each time his focus catching on to her elegant writing over her words of endearment and his name. He was staring at it again, causing him to miss the wood he was working on had become weak, suddenly snapping. As he cursed himself, a chuckle reached his ears. “You know, if I hadn’t seen you carve the griffon saddle, I would’ve thought this was your first time working with carpentry tools.” His heart lifted as he turned to see that familiar smile and those shining eyes that he adored looking at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t know what soon meant.” She stepped closer to him, humming. “Two words. ‘Island’ and ‘dragon.’ I can’t control the bloody things appearing out of nowhere. Can you blame me?” It was his turn to chuckle as he pulled her into his arms. “No, I suppose not. Glad to have you back, love.” She pulled him into a kiss, Blackwall melting to her touch. The wait was definitely worth it.

Cullen

“Sir?” The commander snapped out of his thoughts, looking up from his desk to a scout standing by the door. “Yes, soldier?” He flinched at how dry his voice sounded and cleared it before saying “What is it?” “The latest reports from the spymaster, sir.” He stepped up and placed several papers onto Cullen’s desk. He picked each up, scanning them, looking for her name or even her title but nothing was found. He gave a frustrated sigh and looked them over to see if he missed something before noticing the scout was still there. “I don’t have anything new to report to her. You’re dismissed.” The scout gave a quick bow before going through the doors, leaving Cullen. Tenting his fingers together, he let his eyes unfocus as he thought. It had now been a couple of weeks since the Inquisitor left and not a single word had been sent back, not even from Leliana’s scouts. He knew he shouldn’t worry about her. She was strong, reliable, but he couldn’t help thinking the worst. Shaking his head so as to stop the idea of them being attacked by a dragon from creeping into his head, he stood up and left the room to walk along the ramparts. He stopped himself short before reaching the spot they usually spend time at and turned, instead, to look down on the grounds. He could see the troops training new recruits, the mages and healers working to restore those who were injured, something happened at the tavern as Sera jumped from the roof and ran, her cackling floating up to where he stood. Why the Inquisitor kept her around, he didn’t know. He couldn’t help his eyes falling to where he had usually spotted her when he walked about: under the trees where Cassandra sat, the spot next to the stairs where they had had there awkward chat, up to where he could see Vivienne leaning over the banister and back to the ground at the gates, where the horses were gathered, flicking their heads as their riders-wait what? He turned his gaze quickly back to the horses at the gate, their rider’s voices caring up to him. One of the riders jumped from their horse and was quickly moving to the stairs when she suddenly looked over. Even from this distance he could see that bright smile growing on her face as she waved and began making her way up the stairs. He made his way over as she finally turned on the final landing and spotted him, breaking into a run and throwing herself into his waiting arms, clinging tightly to him. He held her, the missing piece to his as he heard her muffled voice say “I missed you.” “And I, you.” 

Iron Bull

The sword he wielded clang against Krem’s as he threw him off. They had been at it for a while and Bull could see the sweat dripping down the younger man’s face but Krem focused, fixed his stance and charged again. In a few moments, Bull squatted next to Krem on the ground, panting and unwilling to move. “I think that has to be the most pitiful swing I’ve ever seen from you, Kremiscius.” Krem only smiled and shot back “Yeah, well, it’s going to be pitiful against a pitiful opponent.” He opened his eyes to look up at his chief’s frozen face. Bull could only grumble but held a hand out to pull Krem up. Once back on his feet, the smaller of the men looked up at him, a calculating look on his face. Bull turned away from him and waved over his shoulder. “That’s enough for today, Krem.” “Is this about the Inquisitor, chief?” Bull froze once more and turned to look at Krem, his brow creased in concern. To Krem’s relief, Bull smiled and said “Nah, the boss can handle themselves. It be foolish to worry about them. Besides, I’m giving you the chance to take a break. Better take it before I decide we need to go over your shield bashing again.” Krem quickly left, but the smile fell from his face as soon as Krem was out of sight. Krem knew him way too well. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Sure, Frostback Basin was a good two week journey, and they had only been gone for seven weeks now, but it still made him worry. There hadn’t been any word back from them, all except their last letter, stating for Bull to be jealous because they went through a tournament-like trial. But that letter came around the time he assumed they reached the Basin. No other words or notes, not even a hint to what they were doing or what happened. Bull was trying to think of every scenario, knowing that kadan would be able to find a way out of each. Still, this wasn’t something he was used to, worrying about a lover. It was different now, he was committed to them, dedicated even. It hurt to wait, wait for any sign. He could see the same thing on other’s faces as they, too, waited. He decided to take out his frustration on the dummies nearby. It wasn’t until Bull had taken a few throws at the tied-up straw did he feel eyes watching him. He turned and felt all of his worries fall away. There, walking towards him, was his inquisitor, his kadan, with a smirk on their face. Bull turned fully towards them, crossing his arms across his chest and giving a dead serious look that made them pause. After a moment, they mimicked him and gave him a serious face as well. They stood in silence for a bit before Bull said “So.” His kadan raised their eyebrows in surprise. “So? That’s it? See me come back and say ‘so?’ “ “Yeah, pretty much.” Bull turned away, continuing his fighting with the dummy, fighting back the smile growing on his face as he listened. Nothing and then careful footsteps over and then a hand on his arm. “Did I miss something? Or did I do something before leaving that I’ve forgotten about?” Bull shrugged and continued. His kadan was quiet for a few moments before saying “Are you just screwing with me?” Again, he shrugged, refusing to look at them. He didn’t expect them to slip under his arm and get in front of the dummy. Now he could see the scratches and marks of battle on their face along with a worried expression. “Bull, what’s-” They jumped as he let out a surprised laugh, picking them up. They thumped his chest, yelling “Bull, you complete arse! I thought I did something wrong!” He pulled them closer, chuckling. “You did do something wrong. One being you didn’t make sure people knew you were alive and second being you didn’t bring me along to make sure you were alive. It was funny watching you squirm.” The inquisitor thumped his chest again, but they were smiling. “Next time I go to some Maker forsaken jungle with low hanging branches and trees, I’ll bring you along with me to fight the giant spiders and darkspawn. Sound like a plan?” Bull laughed, “No.”

There, enjoy. Have some burly men loving you. -Cabot