#queuemander shepard

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local soulmates finally reach the "friends" in "enemies to friends to lovers". A little softness goes a long way. Nice, mostly gentle chapter to make up for the previous one's angsty ending. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts

5: Heart Of The Matter

“This is embarrassing,” you mumble, refusing to look Cassandra in the eyes. Softly, she runs her fingers over your chest, spreading the medicinal salve. There’s an unspoken judgement in her expression. Minor movements are no less painful than major ones, so you try to sit still, as much as you’d rather be with anyone else. “Can you hurry up, at least? I don’t care if it takes longer to heal in the long run, I just want to get out of here,” you snap. For a split second you think Cassandra’s going to hit you in response, with the way she looks at you, and you involuntarily flinch. But the hit never comes, merely a sharp sigh.

“If you didn’t want to get treated, you shouldn’t have started a fight- especially not such a pointless one,” she says, continuing to rub in the medicine and evidence alike. At this, you shrink into yourself, hating the harsh sting of truth. Yeah, you think, she’s got me there. Victory is a fast fading feeling, dearly missed in the wake of the growing shame in your chest. Why had you given in to your impulses? Why had you broken the only peace you had known in weeks? It’s a thought that snags on the corners of your mind, weighing down your cognition, leaving you unpleasantly distracted from the present. “Almost done. Then you can go sulk in private, somewhere you can’t bother me, alright?”

Nodding, you accept your fate with what little grace remains. What more could you even do? Ask her to stay by your side? Hardly. But as soon as the last bandage fits into place, and her gentle yet calloused hands smooth the last edge, a whisper of an ache springs into your heart. It’s not a yearning for Cassandra specifically, merely a reminder of your unwilling loneliness. When the door closes behind her, you stare down at your hands, wishing to hold some meaning within them. Maybe I can find Daphne around here somewhere, you think. Then you slowly rise to your feet. Better to sit with a kind stranger than a harsh familiar face.

---------------------------

That night, you find yourself cautiously approaching Cassandra’s room, feeling like a death row inmate on their way to the executioner. Every step is begrudging, and you almost can’t bring yourself to open the door. But you manage, in the end, stepping in with your eyes downcast. No voice, grumpy or otherwise, greets you. One glance tells you that your soulmate is already asleep, and you mentally thank all the gods you can name. It doesn’t take long to get ready for bed. It does take a minute to slide under the covers, careful not to wake Cassandra. This time you don’t move closer to her, or wrap your arm around her waist, too… exhausted to try anything along those lines.

When you dream, it is of an ever familiar room, shrouded in darkness, stained with the blood of hundreds. Someone’s laughing- a woman, maybe several. Down here, someone is always laughing. You try to laugh with them. It’s a lie, a small deception, that lets you pull your thoughts away from your misery. But they don’t appreciate it when you join their cacophony chorus. Their cackling shifts into screaming, bitter lungs sending waves of ear-splitting sound. Over and over, it gets louder, unbearably so, and closer, closer all the time. Just a few cells away. Just a few more fucking seconds and they’ll be right on top of you. This is a dream you’ve faced down before, yet the ending is unknown. They always get louder, always barrel down the path, towards you, howling endlessly.

They never reach you. No, they’re always coming, always so fucking close. Never in your sight. Never digging claws into your chest. But the anxiety does not fade- you are tipping back in a chair, never falling, never able to find your balance.

When you wake up, it’s with a flinch, teary eyes snapping open. A hand rests on your cheek, brushes away the stains. Whispered words drift through the air, too hushed to be understood, daring to lull you into a relaxed state. It’s Cassandra, of course. Even in your tired state, you know this, know that she’s trying. What you don’t know is whether or not she’s awake enough to process what she’s doing. After all, you hardly are, and her touch is the gentlest thing you’ve ever felt. But you do not get to enjoy it for terribly long. Soon enough your vision fades, the embrace of slumber overtaking you once more.

---------------------------

For a few days, there is relative peace. Meals are delivered to Cassandra’s room, where you mostly dine on your own, though she occasionally joins you, even if you do not speak. Every evening she ensures your wounds are treated, often handling it herself. When she does, you do your best not to meet her gaze, for you cannot stand the traces of affection you see there. Try as you might, you find yourself unable to taunt her the way you had done the first day. The way she’s changed her behavior, adapting to your trauma’s revelation, haunts you to no end.

“Drink this,” she says one day, before bed, holding out a steaming mug. Of course you don’t take it, of course you stare at her with an eyebrow raised. Acceptance was never an option. “It’s just tea. Bela says it might help. With nightmares. Not-” she paused to frown, unsure if she even wanted to finish the sentence- “that it helped me. But you’ve been… tolerable, lately, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Then she’s reaching out again, expectantly. Blushing ever so slightly, you finally take the mug, giving her a quick nod before taking a sip. There’s a hint of sugar, just enough to make things interesting.

“Thanks,” you murmur, after swallowing the lump in your throat. Already Cassandra is turning away, focusing on getting ready for bed. You want to say more, to actually hold a conversation with her for the first time in days, but your mouth feels oddly dry. So you just sip your tea in silence. Of course, you think, I’m only ever improvising a monologue, or tripping over my own tongue, as if it were a resting place for my chattering teeth. At least the beverage wasn’t as bitter as your thoughts. By the time you’ve finished your drink, Cassandra is in bed, watching you with an unreadable expression. “Need something? Or just waiting for the poison in my drink to kick in?” You ask, surprising yourself.

“Finally remembered how your mouth works, hmm?” Cassandra teases. Again you’re blushing, having expected her to be more annoyed than amused.

“I never forgot. I simply, you know, uh… figured that you needed a break, after my last demonstration,” you counter, remembering the way your vocal chords had complained, and the way her arm had felt around your throat. It’s not the direction you meant to take the conversation in, but she doesn’t seem to mind. If anything… she’s blushing. For a moment you’re confused, then you finally recall the ‘incident’ in the tub. Oh fuck, you think, that’s worse. Maybe. Probably? What should I say? In the end, the words leave your mouth in a rush, as they were prone to do. “Based on how red your cheeks are, I’m going to assume you don’t need another reminder. Let’s just get some rest now, yeah?” Next thing you know, there’s a pillow flying towards your face.

Still, it’s better than nothing, and the impact serves only to make you smile wider. When you climb into bed, you find yourself face-to-face with Cassandra. She’s never laid like this with you before. It’s unexpected, even more so when she shifts forward, less than an inch away from your face. Understandably, you end up blushing more than you’d like to admit.

“What was that about red cheeks?” She asks, voice low and breathy, knowing exactly what she was doing to you. Before you can think of the ‘smart’ thing to do, impulse kicks in, making you go in for a quick kiss. It’s supposed to be a joke, a counter to her teasing. But she leans into it. She kisses back. Both of you are blushing hard when she pulls away, a few moments later. You’re trying to stutter out a response, clever or otherwise, and she’s rolling her eyes, rolling onto her other side, putting her back to you. Words fail you. In the end, you are forced to try to sleep, regardless of what just happened. When you dream, there are no nightmares this time. Just a warmth you had thought forgotten.

---------------------------

More days pass, with your tongue slowly loosening up, fueled by playful banter with Cassandra. Neither of you dares to mention the kiss. Nor do you ever speak for too long, as if knowing that your mind still resisted peace. Most evenings are still filled with nightmares, all mimicking your trauma, and you are left to wonder if the tea had even worked that first night, or if something else had helped. In the hopes of more success you drink a mug every day before bed. Admittedly, Cassandra does bring it to you, meaning that forgoing it would require turning her down. That was… harder to do, these days.

When she asks you to join her for lunch, you don’t hesitate to agree. But as you’re waiting in her room, casually reclining on her bed with a book in your hands, a distant scream echoes through the castle. Instantly you’re panicking, wondering who was in trouble. It reminds you so much of the dungeon that you can’t move. Was one of the servants being punished? Had someone merely forgotten to close the door to the basement, and you were hearing the same cries that caused your nightmares? Even though the screaming does not last for long, it renders you helpless, shaking in every bone. It’s not until the door opens that you can think again.

“Change of plans,” Cassandra announces, stepping into the room. There’s a worried expression on her face, and her voice tells you she’s distracted. When she sees the state you’re in, however, she’s quick to sit next to you. “Hey, you’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s Daniela that does. She- her soulmate-... it’s bad. That’s all we know. One second she was fine, the next she’s howling in pain, and there’s a huge scar on her back. We’re going to have a ‘family lunch’, per mother’s insistence, in case it helps Dani think about literally anything other than what just happened.” With that, one of her hands moves to your own, giving a reassuring squeeze. To her surprise, you’re quick to return the gesture.

“I can come with,” you blurt out. Then she’s raising an eyebrow at you, wondering why the hell you’d ever offer to spend time with her family. The family that had imprisoned you. And, of course, intended to drain you of blood, or dine on your flesh. Even you weren’t a hundred percent sure. “This has got to be hard for her. I… I knew someone who went through something similar. Strange as it is, I want to show my support. If you’ll allow me, that is.” There’s neither a pleading tone nor a hint of anger in your voice. But Cassandra still hesitates, eying you, clearly questioning your motive.

“Alright, fine,” she says, after a deep sigh. “If you do anything to make her feel worse, I can’t- and won’t- stop my family from killing you, blood bond be damned. They’ll make it painless, for my sake, but that’s the only kindness you’ll get. Got it?” You nod, giving her hand another squeeze. “Good. Now let’s get going, I don’t want to make Dani wait.”

---------------------------

It’s quiet. Awkward, even. Daniela is clearly still shaken up from her experience, with red eyes, makeup staining her cheeks. No one seems to have the slightest clue of what to say to her. Even you are silent, unable to find a good opportunity to lend your advice or sympathies. Which makes it all the more painful when you find Daniela watching you, eyes narrowed, a tremble to her lower lip. Both Cassandra and Bela seem to notice, pausing their eating to wait with bated breath. Part of you swears you can hear their thoughts of please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything, for the love of everything good in this world. So, naturally, Daniela does in fact say something. But it’s not directed at you- rather your soulmate.

“Did you really have to bring them? Huh? Felt like pouring salt in my wounds?” Her throat is obviously sore from crying, or screaming, likely both. This certainly wasn’t how you wanted your first meeting with her (or her mother) to go. So you summon the best of your courage, replying before Cassandra even opens her mouth.

“I asked to come. I wanted to show my support,” you reply. There’s a pause, with Daniela glaring at you, before she speaks slowly and with unveiled rage.

“Don’t make me laugh. You really thought I’d want to see my sister’s soulmate right now? Alive and well? God, you’re perfect for her, absolutely clueless,” she growls, smacking her fist against the table. Things have gone from bad to worse, but you don’t give up, deciding to take a risk as best as you could. After all, Cassandra had made it clear that your life was on the line.

“Tell me, was the pain bad enough that you passed out?” You ask, ignoring the way your soulmate kicks your feet. She’s desperate for you to shut up, especially now that Daniela’s too angry to even respond. “Are you still in pain now? Answer the question and I’ll either explain, or let you use my bones as toothpicks.”

“Fuck you!” Daniela cries, rising to her feet. Instantly her sisters are standing as well, though it’s unclear what ‘side’ either of them are on. For now, their mother remains sitting, staring at you intensely. When you refuse to back down, the tension in the room flickers, fading a tad. “The pain lasted ten minutes. It’s stopped. They’re…”

“They’re not dead, then. Reason to celebrate, yes?” You suggest, raising your glass before taking a long drink from it. Everyone is eying you with visible confusion. “When I was younger, I was with my best friend during the worst hours of her life. She had met her soulmate at age twelve, three years prior. We had just been… hanging out. Talking. The next thing I knew she was screaming like her blood had turned to acid, sobbing her eyes out. Then she blacked out. By the time she came to, we were at the hospital, and we ran into her soulmate’s family. She asked them what was wrong, why she was in so much pain. I, uh, I think you can guess the answer. Not the specifics, yeah, but the general gist of it. It took twenty four hours for the physical pain to stop. According to the doctors, that’s pretty average. So your soulmate isn’t dead. Chances are you haven’t even met them yet, and someday you’ll see that scar on their back, and you’ll know. I know that this doesn’t make everything okay, but I hope it helps. At least a little.” When Daniela finally brings herself to reply, having sunk back into her seat, it’s with a soft voice, hardly more than a whisper.

“It does. Thank you.”

---------------------------

Later, you’re walking back to Cassandra’s room when she suddenly pushes you against a wall, staring at you with fear in her eyes.

“What you said earlier. About your friend. Was that true?” You’re nodding, quickly, desperate to get her to release you. But she doesn’t. Instead she’s looking at you with concern, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. “Goddamnit, you better not ever fucking die on me then, alright? Promise me. Right now!” A thousand thoughts go through your mind, a thousand jabs or otherwise cruel remarks, but when you speak, it’s with a hushed reverence you cannot describe.

“Same to you. I know you’re practically immortal, but I don’t fucking care. Don’t die on me. Don’t- just don’t. I promise, but you better fucking mean it too, alright?” You say, openly crying, ignoring the way Cassandra’s expression softens at your words. As soon as you’re done speaking she lets you go with a nod, turning back to the hallway, already walking towards her room. You’re not entirely sure what just happened… but you know you’re glad it did.

[flares-of-arcadia]

Why does everyone in Elden Ring keep calling me Tarnished? I understand that it's, like, a Thing in Lore (which I will hopefully understand at some point), but without context it feels rude

Like. I am a human being! With feelings! Not a piece of tupperware once used to contain leftover spaghetti and meatballs, cursed to be vaguely orange for the rest of my existence!!!

[flares-of-arcadia]

I half expected Aloy to get two steps from the exit, only for a disapproving Varl to reveal that he was only pretending to sleep (because he /really/ should have expected this).

sneakin out

[emmriches]

someone queued my gifset & their queue tag was “queuemander shepard” that is so cute what

[felassan]

queue'mander shepard?

anonymous asked: queuemander shepard

its beautiful, and perfect, and i will use it. also, its supremely obvious, so i feel highly silly for not thinking of it, lmao. thanks Nonnies! thanku also to the other Nonnie (“I’m commander shepard and this is my queue??”), @aurrius and @magewardensurana for making suggestions too. ◕‿◕

edit: changed ~

[msg refs this post]

[the-insomniac-emporium]

if you’re still doing prompts… Daniela + Jealousy

(*muffled giggling*)

Of all the many, many emotions you have made her feel, this is Daniela’s least favorite. It burns in her chest, writhing and rotten, a far cry from what she is accustomed to. Did you even realize what you were doing to her? Had you any idea the horrid jealousy that sprung up in her chest, as she watched you cling to another? Certainly not, or else you would have cast them aside, to once more curl up into her arms. Instead you sit silently, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing within your girlfriend’s mind.

Part of her wants to leap up from where she rests, to join you in your comfort, to retake her rightful position at your side. But as loathe as she is to admit it, this was her idea. Her request. Of course, she had not foreseen these consequences. Now she was forced to live with her decision, desperately attempting to distract herself with another novel, even as her heart longed for your embrace. Across the room, you are peacefully reading your own book. If there are any rough feelings in your chest, you do not show them, and Daniela wishes she could share in your comfort.

Quietly she shifts her position, another vain attempt to distract herself. Then she clears her throat, softly, watching you out of the corner of her eyes. Yet you do not respond. Again she shuffles, realizing that you aren’t paying her any mind, and lets out a deep sigh. This time she does get someone’s attention: Her mother’s, to be exact.

“Daniela, dear, we all know what you’re thinking. Do yourself a favor and get it over with, yes?” Alcina suggests, not bothering to look up from the paperwork she was reading. Cheeks tinting red, Daniela nods before rising to her feet. At last you look up, still holding onto your cuddle partner, and send her an easy smile. Before you can process what’s happening she’s climbing into your lap, pushing your stuffed animal away, wordlessly demanding your attention. Understandably, you start laughing, finally realizing that Daniela was jealous. Of your teddy bear. Hoping to ‘make it up to her’, you pepper her face with kisses. She’s blushing harder then, but still says nothing, too embarrassed to say what she wants to (at least not in front of her mother).

“Don’t worry, my beloved, you’ll always be my favorite,” you reassure her, holding her as close as you can.

[sangoqueenkoko]

It’s weird. But I hate to admit that I sorta like it.

Death Becomes Her (1992)

[the-insomniac-emporium]

What about Lady D and truth, for the prompt thing?

(Longer than all of my one word prompts, at close to 1300 words, so under a read-more)

In all her years, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu has rarely been one to humor anxiety. She was strong-willed, determined, held a great favor for honesty, and had few reasons to doubt herself. After all, she was one of Mother Miranda’s chosen “children”, selected to rule over a grand estate for decades. What could possibly make her palms sweat, or her heart skip beats? To her immense displeasure… the answer was love. Love was what both thrilled and terrified her, acting as butterflies in her stomach yet a snake coiling around her throat all the same. It held her heart hostage inside her own chest. Yes, love did all this and more, for it was a mighty affection, far stronger than Alcina had felt before (at least when it came to romance).

And it was love for you. She had yet to approach the subject with you, out of her anxiety, but had not attempted to directly hide her feelings. By this point, her pining was clear to just about everyone in the castle. Well, everyone but you. Despite the way Alcina softened around you, despite the way she easily forgave your mistakes (even the ones that cost her), despite the way she constantly invited you to share a drink or meal with her, despite everything, you did not make the connection.

At first you had merely assumed you had caught her eye, and that before long she would select you as her next “meal”. After a couple of months, you realized your misjudgment, then believing that she enjoyed your company; but only as a friend, of course. There was little reason for you to assume that an incredibly powerful, century-old, blood-drinking immortal was romantically interested in a servant such as yourself. To Alcina, your obliviousness came off as humility, which only strengthened the thundering of her heart. In the end, it took the intervention of a trusted colleague for you to realize the truth.

“How do you feel about Lady Dimitrescu? Like, emotionally,” Ava wrote, before passing xer notebook to you. Admittedly it had taken a while for you to adjust to xer odd way of communicating, but once you had, well, xe was always an interesting conversational partner. Plenty of odd anecdotes and humorous stories about your employers. More than that, xe had a knack for understanding even the most intricate of human emotions. On several different occasions you had seen xer talking with other maidens, about serious subjects, acting as a pseudo therapist. Now it appears to be your turn to have your mind examined.

“She’s, hmm. I suppose I have conflicting emotions about her,” you reply, as quietly as you can, worried that somehow your employers would overhear. Recognizing that you hadn’t actually answered Ava’s question, you continued, pausing here and there to think about how to articulate your thoughts. “On one hand I know that she’s capable of great, terrible harm. I’ve seen the results, I’ve even poured them like wine for her to drink… But she can be awfully sweet, when she so desires, especially to her children. Perhaps I’ve come to be numb, insensitive to the violence around us, but I cannot help but admire Lady Alcina. Even, well, I suppose I might be inclined to say that I do more than just admire her.”

“Ooh la la, my friend! Would you ever consider telling her? I imagine it would go rather well. Just a feeling, though, so no pressure!” Ava replies, presenting xer notebook with a flourish and a grin. Immediately you’re blushing, somehow not having expected xer to say anything like that. It takes you a moment to think about what xe said, trying to figure out what you’re wanting to do- what you’re willing to risk. You were certain that Ava knew what xe was talking about, considering how close to the Dimitrescu xe was, meaning that you stood a good chance of starting something meaningful with Alcina.

“Wait,” you start to say, remembering tidbits from the past few months, “has she felt something for me for some time now? Have I been misinterpreting things this entire time?” At that, Ava gives a hearty laugh, the most noise you’ve ever heard from xer. But xe doesn’t give you a proper response, instead giving you a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room forthright. You’re left to your own devices, to ponder your options fully. It’s not hard to make a decision; not when you think about how much Alcina means to you. “Guess we’ve got something to talk about… here’s hoping Ava knows as much as xe seems to.”

—————————

“Lady Dimitrescu? May I have a minute of your time?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. Despite the evidence of her affection, as well as Ava’s testimony, you could not help but be nervous. There was certainly a risk to opening up to one’s own boss, particularly when they were as dangerous as Alcina. Thankfully, the good lady seemed to be in a pleasant mood today. Certainly that would help, yes?

“Of course, my dear. There are few things that would ever distract me from you,” Alcina replies, making your heart skip a beat. Admittedly you doubted the truth behind her words… but that didn’t mean she hadn’t successfully flustered you. More than that, she seemed rather pleased by your unsubtle blush, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. For a few seconds you’re too distracted by her to speak. “Please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable. I assure you that you have no reason to be nervous.” Except you did, of course, but there was no point in arguing. So you settle down as best as you’re able, heart still racing. Part of you couldn’t help but wonder if she could hear it.

“I… I do not want to be overly forward, Lady Alcina, for you are first and foremost my employer, and a Lord of the village, and I hold nothing in my heart for you but respect. There’s simply something that I must, well, get off my chest,” you explain sheepishly. Across from you, Alcina does her best to appear welcoming, even if it meant less-than-perfect posture (not that it was anywhere bad enough for you to notice). Although you are not aware, her chest thrums with excitement. Were you going to make this easy for her? Were you to reach out in the way that she had yet to do? Was your confession, your truth, the same as her own? “I have… ahem, found myself falling for you, my Lady, over these past few months. I-I know that you likely do not share these feelings, and that the chances of us becoming a couple are slim to none, but I-”

To her, this was absurd, and she would hear no more of it. So she rose to her feet, making you do the same out of nerves, one hand going to gently cup your chin. She held you there, forcing you to make eye contact. Except her gaze held nothing other than affection.

“Do not fret, my dear. You have consumed my heart in its entirety, and I will hear no talk of me denying you what is rightfully yours. I have ached with this truth for some time, but now I am free to bear it with pride, your hand in mine,” Alcina says, voice a perfect blend of softness and confidence. Before either of you realize it, you’re wrapping your arms around her, pulling her in close. She’s eager to return the embrace, fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back. “Thank you, dear, for saying what I could not.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Howdy! Love what you’re doin’!

Request: Daniela comforting her maiden through some nightmares.

Good luck with your (hopefully continued lack of) side effects!

(This turned out shorter than I had intended. Oops. Please enjoy nonetheless.)

This isn’t the first time she’s had to do this. Nor will it be the last, as far as she can imagine. One would think that she’d be better at this by now, then, with all the practice she’s had. But the truth is that Daniela Dimitrescu is prone to panicking, and few things made her panic as much as the sight of you suffering. No matter how much advice her sisters have given her, she still struggles with helping you through a nightmare.

“Hey, hey, shhhh,” she murmurs, running her fingers through your hair, trying not to shake as she does. At the moment, you’re still asleep, and she does not know whether outright waking you up is the best course of action. What had Bela told her?... Right, waking you up could be bad, because you might not immediately realize that you had been dreaming. Except you’re trembling, eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids, clearly under great stress. Which was the greater pain? The guaranteed, or the risk of something worse? “It’s alright, little love, just a dream, shhh. It’s okay,” she continues, softly, before the tension finally gets to her. Then she’s talking louder, gently caressing your cheek as she does. “Wake up, please. Come on, little love, everything’s going to be okay.”

Although it takes a minute, you soon arise from your slumber, eyes going wide for a few seconds. Quickly you’re sitting up, and Daniela copies the motion without hesitation. You bring a hand to your head, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, as your girlfriend moves to wrap an arm around you. Memories of your nightmare linger in your thoughts, but are soon driven away by Daniela’s sweet care.

“Nothing is going to hurt you while I’m here,” she promises, leaning against you, placing a few soft kisses to your face. “I love you so much. Do you want to talk about your dream?” Shaking your head, you turn in place to curl up against her chest. Once more she slowly runs her fingers through your hair. It’s relaxing, and you find your eyelids drifting shut. “Falling back asleep already, little love? Not even a kiss before you do?” She’s teasing, but in truth she’s happy, even proud to know you felt so safe in her arms. Nonetheless, her words do make you open your eyes. There’s a small smile on your lips, then you’re leaning in for a kiss, which she ever so happily returns. When the two of you part, you’re looking at her with grand affection.

“I love you, Dani,” you say, whispering with reverence. Then another kiss, this one longer, ending with your foreheads resting against one another. “Thank you for keeping me safe, especially from nightmares,” you add, grinning.

“Anything for the one I love,” Daniela replies. Now she’s pulling you down with her, back under the sheets, ignoring your noise of surprise. “Let’s try to get more rest, yes? You’ll need plenty of energy for what I have planned for the morning.” Blushing hard, you gladly curl up in her arms. Even if you had another nightmare, you knew that she’d be here to comfort you, and protect you from any real harm. What more could you ask for?

[the-insomniac-emporium]

bela + heartbreak

(While it should mostly make sense on its own, this is somewhat of a sequel/alternate ending to the Bela + Flowers prompt that I did awhile back. I can't add a link right now, but you can find it on my Masterlist. Under a read-more for length, at about 1k words)

“I didn’t know what to tell her. I love her, honestly, but she’s my employer, and a fucking immortal. How am I supposed to deal with that?” You asked, eying Ava with a pained expression. Less than a week has passed since you delivered your heartbreaking bouquet to Lady Bela. Ever since that night she had avoided you, though you had heard the tell-tale signs of her misery while walking past her quarters. Doing your job had gone from fun to incredibly stressful, as you tried to navigate the gardens, while avoiding the places you knew Bela would go to relax. “It just hurts to know the pain I’ve caused her… Suddenly I’m not so sure that turning her down was the best idea.”

“One of you was bound to get hurt, there’s no shame in protecting yourself,” Ava replies, for once opting to speak out loud. Admittedly you’re caught off guard, but your confusion soon melts into appreciation. Depending on who you asked, getting xer to talk to you was either a compliment, or a blessing. “If you’re feeling regret, though, you might want to talk to her. Acknowledge the power imbalance, and the anxiety it causes you. There’s no ‘right’ answer, unfortunately, but it might hurt less if the two of you talk about the issues at hand.” With that said, Ava shrugs, wanting xer advice to come off as casual as possible. At the end of the day, xe wanted little else other than the happiness of the Dimitrescu family.

It didn’t matter to xer whether you or someone else caused that happiness.

“Alright, you’ve got a point,” you admit, somewhat begrudgingly. It’s not that you don’t want to say xe’s right, rather that you have so much anxiety about the possibility of confrontation. “Can I count on your assistance? I’m not sure that I could get her to stay in the same room as me long enough for me to explain anything. Besides, I want her to be as comfortable as possible. I just don’t know how to do that.” Nodding, Ava moves to xer feet, extending a hand to help you up. Evidently xe already had something in mind…

—————————

“Try to make this quick. I cannot promise your safety right now, not when my heart is so damaged,” Bela says with a frown. There’s a sharp bitterness in her tone, but you know her well enough to realize that it’s a facade, little more than a shield to hide behind. Nonetheless, it’s painful to hear her come so close to threatening you. More painful still to feel like you are utterly deserving of her anger. If not for Ava’s earlier encouragement, you might have given up right then and there.

“I have a lot to say- or a lot to mean, and no solid concept of how to say it, especially not quickly. I could not summarize my feelings for you even if I had a thousand years to prepare,” you explain, barely able to make eye contact with Bela. She shifts at your words, not yet sure how to interpret them. “I love you. I… I know that my bouquet said otherwise, that I chose flowers meaning flattered rejection, but the truth is that some messages are too complicated for that kind of communication. And… and I recognize that I could have just fucking talked to you, and that I should have, but I was so goddamn scared. Maybe I still am.” Before you can elaborate, Bela has stood up from her seat at the garden bench, moving to stand next to you, placing a soft hand against your shoulder.

“What could possibly terrify you like this? What could make you lie about how you feel? Is it not enough that we love each other? Can you not simply take my hand now, kiss me hard, and pretend you never hurt me?” She whispers, gaze trailing over your trembling form. Wanting to keep the tension low, you put your hand on top of hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then she’s moving even closer, going so far as to rest her chin on your head. Despite your hesitance about the idea of dating one of your employers, you cannot help but lean into her touch.

“Lady Bela… I am merely a servant. A lowly maid plucked from the village to do the bidding of those above me, never meant to meet any fate other than being bled dry. I love you, but I fear you, and I fear your mother, and I fear the pressure that I may one day be put under. It is in my very nature to hesitate, to question my right to be by your side,” you ramble, feeling unsure of yourself all the while. Would it really be so bad to give in? Are we, you think, doomed to hurt each other, or could we overcome our differences?

“Let me make myself abundantly clear: There is no one else I want by my side. I have loved you, longed for you, dreamed-” she moves her lips to your neck, pressing a quick kiss there- “of you. When I picture my future, I cannot picture it without you. Where you came from, or what title you now hold, is irrelevant. All that matters is our love. If you feel for me, even just a fraction of what I feel for you, let us try. In time, I can ease all of your fears, or you can break it off. I will cherish your existence regardless, though I would need time to… heal. What do you say?” Bela asks, pulling back to meet your gaze. Your heart dances in your chest, off beat but racing, one of many signs of your affection.

“I am terrified of heartbreak, and in my terror I have become a self fulfilling prophecy, but I do not intend to be my own victim any longer,” you declare, leaning in for a quick kiss. Bela wraps her arms around you, and you do the same, resting yourself fully against her. “Whatever comes of this… I will be all the happier for knowing we tried. I love you.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Howdy! Idk if your still taking one word prompts but if you are then Donna benivento and “blood” please?

(well. I apologize in advance. under read-more because it's the longest one-word prompt fill to date, at about 900 words)

“It’s not that bad, love, I promise. I just need a minute to rest, and put some pressure on this, and then we’ll head back home to properly take care of it. I’ll be fine,” you say, between shaky breaths, hissing in pain as you put your hand against your ribs. This had been a rather romantic evening, prior to your injury. But you had been distracted, by your girlfriend’s radiant smile (barely visible under the edges of her veil), and one misstep had sent you sliding across wet rock. Now you were on the ground, trying to stop the bleeding. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what had cut your side open, or how bad the wound actually was. What you did know was that it hurt like hell… and you didn’t want to scare Donna.

She’s kneeling right next to you, face still hidden, silent, unmoving except for breathing. One of her hands rests on your upper thigh, and you feel her trembling ever-so-slightly. Your words had done little, if anything, to help ease her concerns. It was rather difficult to tell exactly what was going through her mind, especially without Angie around to voice whatever feelings Donna wasn’t willing to share. Part of you wants to crack a joke about your clumsiness, or the weather, or your pain, or damn near anything that might lighten the tension, but as soon as you open your mouth you’re gasping in pain. For a split second you take your hand off of your side, staring at the dark red covering your fingers. Despite it all, you try to tell yourself that you’ll be okay, even as you turn back to see Donna removing her veil.

“Don’t leave,” she murmurs, eyes wide as she watches you. Confusion blurs your thoughts together until you try to stand, wanting to prove you were fine, only to feel so light-headed that you come crashing back down. Instantly your girlfriend is attempting to help you, supporting your torso with surprisingly strong arms. “Please don’t leave. Please, I can’t let you go, I can’t lose you too.” Your free hand goes to cup her cheek, as your heart breaks at the sight of her crying. Why was the universe doing this to you? To her?

“I don’t want to go, love. I never want to leave you. There’s so much we’ve yet to do… maybe if we walk fast enough someone in the village can help? We can try, right?” You beg, knowing full well by this point that it was too late. But Donna is quick to nod, faster still to help you to your feet. Most of your weight is on her now, though she neither complains nor struggles, and the two of you begin your slow trek towards civilization. To your surprise, she does not yet put her veil back on. Normally she was loath to be without it for any longer than she needed to be. “I love you so much. I can’t- I can’t stop living, not while your heart still beats in sync with my own. I’ll make it, I promise.”

At this, Donna gives you a soft look, easily expressing the affection she could not voice. You do your best to give her a convincing smile before turning your attention back to the path, wanting to avoid any further slips. Except there’s nothing but unfamiliar flowers in front of you. Though you feel inclined to pause, your girlfriend does not stop walking, and you force yourself to keep moving. Besides, the flowers are rather nice. They were your favorites, actually, present in an abundance you had never seen before. Did they even grow naturally in Romania?... Why did your head feel so cloudy? Thinking was getting harder by the second, but at least your wound had gone from aching to awfully numb.

“It’s alright, love. Enjoy the view as much as you can,” Donna tells you, giving you a kiss on the cheek. Your legs feel oddly heavy, now, and it’s not long before you need to rest, your girlfriend helping you to the ground. The flowers are so beautiful. So is Donna, even with tears in her eyes. You’re pretty sure you tell her that. Though the words come out slurred. Then she speaks again, her voice feeling far off, your mind refusing to process it. But she puts her arms around you, and that was something you could understand. Trembling, you try to return the embrace, still looking out at the strange sea of flowers. It was endless. It was peaceful.

They say death itself is just a moment. A blink. But you feel the warmth of your lover in your arms, you feel the cool breeze against your skin, you hear the singing songs of the birds, you feel the gradual slowing of your heart within your chest, and you see the flowers sprawling out in front of you. It takes you a minute, but eventually you realize that this is a gift from Donna. A hallucination, tailor fit for your final moments. And you cry. Tears fall from your eyes, and you tell her you love her so very, very much, and that you’re sorry, and that you wish you had more time.

And then you blink.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Village Characters As Dumb Things I've Said (Part 3)

The only problem with these is that I'm going through my collection of "quotes of the day", and I can't use some of them because I didn't specify whether or not it's an original quote. I know 95% of the ones I have saved are, but still :/

Daniela, being dramatic: "Is this what hell is? Being trapped, endlessly, in the in between? With burning flesh awaiting a release that is never to come?... The need to sneeze, and no means to do so?"

Donna Beneviento: *critiquing the story of a dumb phone game* "They can't just mail the plant. That plant would never survive getting shipped like that." *2.5 seconds later* "THEY MAILED THE FUCKING PLANT???"

Angie, floating: "The ground is surprisingly far away, considering my height."

Moreau: "That's it, self care time, I'm turning my Depression Pit into a Party Pit!"

Ethan Winters: "My aesthetic is quietly whispering yelling "what the fuck" anytime literally anything happens."

Daniela, being horny at an inappropriate time: "Because you're pretty??? And strong??? And human genitals are notoriously bad at prioritizing?"

Donna Beneviento: "If I had a cult, it'd be a fucking Stitch and Bitch! Yeah, but fancier, so that way it'd actually count as a cult!"

[the-insomniac-emporium]

How about a Dani + “Birthday” ?

(Might not be what you had in mind, but I already did a post with HCs about the girls celebrating their s/o's birthday)

She’s hiding, as quiet as she can be, barely holding in her giggles. This was her idea, yet she was the only one who had come close to ruining the surprise. The others (her sisters) had regarded her with mild disdain. But she was determined for this to work out, even if it meant fighting against her impulsive instincts. Thankfully, she did not have much longer to wait, assuming things were going according to plan. Yes, any second now…

“I don’t know what she wanted, my Lady, she merely asked me to bring you here. My apologies for the inconvenience,” Cynthia said, voice coming from down the hallway. Based on the sound of footsteps, she was not alone, and Daniela knew exactly who was accompanying the servant. “Right through here, my Lady.” Her breath hitched in her throat, excitement boiling up. One… two… three…

“Surprise!” She shouted, jumping out from behind a table, as Alcina ducked through the doorway. Alongside Daniela were both of her sisters. They too had popped out, grinning wide at the sight of their mother. “Happy birthday!” Then they were crowding around her, hugging her tight, giggling a little at her shocked expression. Nearby, a small orchestra had started playing, its members having been hand selected from the village. On the other side of the room, servants had arranged a buffet with all of the Lady’s favorite foods.

“And here I thought you three might have forgotten,” Alcina teased, before giving each of her children a kiss on the top of their head. This had been very unexpected… but she couldn’t be happier.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Camerawork in Arcane

Rewatched the first episode of Arcane, with the intention of doodling while I did, but ended up making some notes about some of the camerawork/filmmaking techniques the show uses to influence the feeling/vibes/emotions/whatnot of scenes and the characters within. This is by no means complete or exhaustive, nor is there, like, a conclusion or real point to it other than "hey I noticed these things that I think are cool to think about!".

Under read more for spoilers for episode 1. Might add more later, after I rewatch the next couple episodes, might not, as the other episodes use a lot of the same techniques (so it'd just be a lot of adding more examples, as opposed to exploring too many other neat tricks).

After the bridge scene, and the opening credits, the first shot (with Vi climbing the building) briefly feels like a first-person shot, bringing you right into the moment (immersive?).

Camera shots on the rooftop feel like they sway a bit more than usual, possibly mimicking the feeling of being up really high? Compare to games like Far Cry 6 or parts of Fallout 4, where different effects make you feel like it’s really windy/shaky when you’re climbing a mountain or skyscraper, respectively.

The focal length changes from Vi/Mylo/Claggor doing parkour to when Powder does it, to emphasize how the distance feels for the characters. I.E, for Powder the gap seems exaggerated, and is much larger feeling than it is when we watch Vi cross the gap. Very effective for creating anxiety/suspense!

Camera rotates to match Powder falling backwards, pausing once Vi catches her.

When closely following characters, a lot of shots feel like the first one I mentioned earlier, where the movements feel like we’re watching from someone’s perspective, as opposed to a camera in a fixed location. Kind of hard to describe? Another good example is when the crew first goes to the Lanes/the main section of the undercity (when “welcome to the playground” starts playing), and we follow right behind them, shuffling through a crowded street, shifting around other characters as if we (the camera) were having to navigate the crowd.

Lots of focal length changes during the chase scene, exaggerating certain movements (the enforcers throwing the rope things, everyone’s legs during a low shot, etc).

The camera frequently looks up at Vi when she’s taking on a leadership/serious role, such as when: she tells the gang they should be happy about their haul (after Mylo complains, and they’ve just had to go down a sewer pipe), when she gives Deckard a ‘taste’ of their treasure, and when she stares down Deckard after he pulls out his knife. This is a common filmmaking technique to make a character seem more important/stronger in certain contexts. We also see this used when we’re first introduced to Vander, though it does help that he’s standing while talking to characters who are sitting. When he goes to sit down, the camera is positioned over his shoulder, angled down past him at the misbehaving bar patrons. While Vander is already taller than them, the angle adds emphasis to that size difference.

Similarly, when Mylo is complaining to Vi about Powder, the shots start out with the two of them at roughly the same height, But as Vi gets more angry, and snaps at Mylo, there are more shots looking up at her, while down at Mylo. Again, this is partially just the positioning of the characters (Mylo is reclining for most of the scene, Vi ends up standing), but the sharpness of the angles reinforces said positioning.

In contrast, most of the episode’s final scene (wherein Vi bonds with Powder on a rooftop, while discussing the crew’s past failures), the shots are mostly framed with the sisters at an equal height/taking up similar portions of the screen. Having them be equals here reinforces their bond, as well as the overall meaning that Vi is attempting to convey via her dialogue.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

BIRTHDAY. it is. my birthday.

borthborthborthborthborthborthborthborthborth

years survived: 22

genders stolen: |997|

shards of glass eaten: 1

# of times Community rewatched: 7

hours spent playing Fallout: New Vegas: infinite

[the-insomniac-emporium]

J Watches Arcane: The Pre-Watching

Establishing the (very few) things that I am already aware of, prior to starting the show.

There's a red gay (Vi?) and a blue gay (Caitlyn? unsure of spelling), as basically any good animated show has these days.

It's broken into at least 3 arcs/acts? Not sure how the arcs/acts are organized. I just saw one post that compared some character between act 1 and act 3 or something.

There are so many amazing female character designs, and I am very, very gay. Only "complaint" is that I've yet to see much body diversity, but obviously that could just be because I've only seen some gif sets and fan art, mostly of the main characters. As someone with a very unconventional body type, I don't really expect to see any characters that look like me, but, ya know, it would be nice to see more diversity than I'm used to. For example, Overwatch has, like, 6 or 7 skinny women, one shorter kinda chubby woman, one tall buff woman, and then robot ladies. Unlike some animated shows (such as Adventure Time), Arcane doesn't seem to have much room to blame "art style". Also, as a fat person, lemme just say fuck the idea of someone's art style meaning they can't draw fat people.

There's a guy??? The only male character I've seen anything about. He is the father (not sure if biological or adoptive, not that it matters) to Jinx???

Jinx and Vi are sisters?

Jinx is a fucking feral gremlin or something? Either that or I've seen a lot of people exaggerating her personality traits for humor, idk

I've never played League of Legends and I never will :)

This show will make my heart hurt, probably

All of my mutuals love this show to death and I feel very left out. Cannot wait to understand the memes.