#winx lysslis

[trashcankitty12]

What similarities do the Trix share with the ancestral witches (both in appearance and personality)? Do the Trix look like their ancestors when they were younger? Also are you going to write about Sapphire in your upcoming story and if you do, does she share any similarities with her ancestor?

I'm not sure for the canon series of events, so I'm only going to answer as far as "my" version of canon.

Under cut because this is loooong.

Belladonna-Icy:

As far as similarities go, Icy could be a dead ringer for Belladonna (as the saying goes). When alive, Belladonna was considered a terrifying sort of beautiful, with ice-white hair and piercing blue eyes.

Icy definitely has the hair and the eyes. Unlike Belladonna though, her face shape is more like her mother's side of the family, and her height is more from her mother's side as well. (Belladonna was a dangerous but petite woman.)

As far as clothing style goes, Icy dresses a bit more 'provocative' than what Belladonna did. (Considering Belladonna is from a time when women typically wore long dresses and robes and many, many layers.) However Icy does have Belladonna's love for capes/crowned back cloaks.

They also share their core magic as Ice Magic. Icy hasn't quite reached the level Belladonna reached yet, but she's still young.

Personality wise, they are extremely similar. Belladonna was an ambitious witch who wanted to rule over all, and as we've seen, Icy is the same way. Ambitious, a natural leader.

She's also cruel and cunning like Belladonna was, willing to cut down anyone in her path.

However, she's a bit more emotional than Belladonna was. Yes, Belladonna had her moments of 'avalanche causing/blizzard bringing/hail storm' temper tantrums, but they were far and few between. (She tended to be more quiet in her anger, but no less dangerous. The tantrums only happened with major setbacks... Like Griffin escaping them alive and when they realized they may not survive the fight on Domino.)

Icy, on the other hand, has a tendency to lose her cool and get overwhelmed with her anger, flash freezing everyone nearby.

Icy also is more likely to allow herself moments of joy and enjoyment, whereas Belladonna was definitely not much for 'resting and relaxing'. (Such frivolous activities wouldn't help their cause at all.)

And unlike Belladonna, Icy has allowed herself to have genuine feelings for others outside of her 'sisters'. Its only happened a time or two, but Icy has felt her little heart flutter once in a while. (Darko was a great guy... But there was too much going on around them.)

She and Belladonna are both selfish and have great egos/inflated senses of grandeur.

Belladonna was willing to steal both forms of the Dragon Fire and all powerful magic in the realms for herself and her sisters so they could rule the Magical Dimension by ushering in a "New Era of Darkness", thinking it was her calling to create more for her life. Of course her methods weren't 'friendly' and it started a whole war. (And centuries of building up a Cult disguised as a Coven.)

As for the selfish part of her plans, she tended to hoard more of the magic for herself, as she was 'the eldest'. She also tended to pick the strongest members for her personal Inner Circle.

Icy is much the same way, willing to toss her sisters under the bus if it means she gets the prize at the end. And she sees herself as becoming the next Grand Mistress of the new generation of Coven members, the one to usher in the New Era.

Lysslis-Darcy:

(I'm using the version of Lysslis' name that was present when I first started WINX, I have no idea when they changed it or if it was just an error in translation.)

Physically speaking, Darcy and Lysslis do look alike. Same golden eyes, same dark hair kept nice and long. About the same body shape (when Lysslis was alive and young that is). However Darcy's face shape is more like her mother's side of the family.

Like Lysslis, Darcy is also considered the more alluring of the trio, often using her sexuality and her looks to get what's needed. (Along with a dose of hypnosis/mind control magic for those who are a little more difficult.)

Clothing style wise, Darcy does share some fashion traits with Lysslis; wearing clothing that would be considered easy to move in and airy while also 'inviting'. (Though the most Darcy ever looked like her ancestor was when she wore that disguise against Jared.)

Darcy is admittedly taller than her ancestor, but not by much.

Magically, Darcy is incredibly similar to Lysslis, however she doesn't quite use her full potential like she should.

Lysslis was known for her grand illusions, her mind manipulations, her control over the very shadows within souls. And once her powers grew, she could even bring in spirits and ghosts to do her bidding, as well as psychically and psychologically torture her opponents.

Darcy could, in theory, do all of this. In fact, she has done it before. Often. But she's not into capturing and tormenting her opponents or creating 'sleeper agents' like her ancestor. Nor is she interested in twisting someone's mind so badly they kill themselves.

Basically, she's just not into it. She doesn't mind fucking with people's minds or using her powers to get what she wants (free stuff, people not to question why she's somewhere she shouldn't be, etc.), and she's all for defending herself however she has too. But to actively seek out people to psychologically traumatize isn't her thing. Honestly, it's too much work and not enough reward if it's not personal enough.

She also doesn't summon creatures as much as Lysslis did for her dirty work. It's a lot of power to summon things and she just doesn't want to waste power she may need for a direct fight than summon creatures she may not need.)

Personality wise; Darcy is bit lazier than Lysslis is. The goal for her isn't 'realm wide domination', though she's okay with helping her sister reach that goal. She's just in it for the fun and chaos it brings.

Ruling, to her is fun, in theory, but it's not a deep-rooted need. But in reality, she'd rather be the one planning or plotting. Studying. Researching. (Even if she gets called a nerd in the process.) But hey, what are sisters for if not helping each other rule the entire Magical Dimension?

She's actually a little bit like Lysslis that way. Researching and studying on magic and it's effects were something Lysslis took great pride in. (Though her experiments tended to be more... Extreme than Darcy's.)

Like Lysslis, Darcy is drawn to animals and manages to create strong bonds with the creatures she meets. However, unlike Lysslis, Darcy actually has some feeling toward the animals she brings in, whereas they were a means to an end for Lysslis.

Also like Lysslis, Darcy has a bit of a romantic sense about her. She enjoys the idea of dating and sex and being close to people. Granted, she also likes to toy with them, but there's still some genuine feeling there... Some... (Riven.)

But she's loyal to her sisters and their cause and she refuses to let herself become too sidetracked when it comes to their mission. (Lysslis was loyal to her sisters too, but she was also prone to have her part of the Coven members go do missions for her and her alone that tended to... Blow up. Darcy seldom ever does such things.)

Where Lysslis wouldn't hesitate to call Tharma and Belladonna, Darcy tends to follow her sisters' lead until it goes poorly. (Though she will make an effort to point out flaws or ways things could go wrong. It's why Icy comes to her for planning purposes.)

Like Lysslis, Darcy is one who will search out those who have wronged her and exact her revenge. (Unlike Lysslis, her success rate isn't the best considering her main targets are the Winx and they're still happily prancing about.)

Tharma-Stormy

Like Tharma, Stormy has the curled/kind of frizzy storm cloud hair. She's also got Tharma's face shape. Her eye color, however, is the same as her father's side.

She's smaller than Tharma is, actually. Her body shape is more like her father's side as well. (She has freckles like Tharma though! And is great at doing the same wild smile she does.)

Clothing wise, Stormy is a bit more provocative than Tharma was in her youth. Tharma was more into robes and anything loose and flowy, but modest in her wear.

Stormy prefers clothes she can move in and look great in. So... Major differences. (Of course, that's also because of differences from the times they're from.)

Power wise, Stormy is definitely Tharma's descendant. Tharma could create massive thunderstorms, devastating tornadoes, ravaging tsunamis, blinding blizzards, and horrific lightning storms. Stormy is much the same way.

And just like Tharma, the more damage she does, the more excited she becomes. She loves wrecking havoc and causing mayhem. Loves the pain she can cause by localizing her powers.

(Unlike Tharma, she's not quite as refined with her skills yet. But give her time.)

Personality wise, she's even more like Tharma. In fact, out of the Trix sisters and their Ancestors, Tharma and Stormy are the most alike.

She's sadistic, cruel, temperamental, and quick to fight. Tharma was just like that. Sadistic in her torture, cruel in her actions, and quick to fight whenever she felt slighted, even with her own sisters.

Like Tharma, she's also quick to get into physical fights. (And is pretty decent at physical fights as well, considering she enjoys using her magic any chance she gets.)

Tharma wasn't much for romance in her day, though she did enjoy 'having fun' from time to time. (Though how long any of her 'partners' lived varied...) Stormy... Much like that.

Stormy doesn't care for romance. She sees it as an unnecessary headache and just boring. As for sex, she's not really into it either. Can it be fun? Sure. Is it necessary? No.

Unlike Tharma, Stormy can find ways of enjoying herself that don't necessarily regard harming people or killing them. Like dancing or gaming, or even silly little makeover nights with her sisters.

Stormy tends to be a bit more hostile than Tharma was, as she's more willing to reject outsiders into her and her sisters' bubbles, whereas Tharma was fine with having new people to... "Teach".

The Case For Sapphire:

She's going to make an appearance, but it's not going to be too major. It's going to be a moment though.

Sapphire has no idea that Icy is her biological sister, nor do their parents remember having Icy. (My tie-ins thing on AO3 will tell you why. But basically, Lysslis had a vision of them losing the war and had their three youngest and most magically in-sync descendants would be found and raised to be their new puppets. So Darcy, Icy, and Stormy were essentially baby-napped and raised by hidden/underground Coven members to be 'triplet sisters' and fly under the radar. Which is why Griffin didn't think anything too odd of them despite recognizing their heritage.)

But she does have some distant similarities with Belladonna, though thanks to her raising, she's not quite like Icy.

Sapphire has the icy white hair and pale blue eyes that her sister and ancestor do. She also has powers over ice and snow. However, unlike Icy, she's not a witch... She's a fairy. Which has honestly blown the minds of her people. Though she's not completely surprised. Her mother's family tree does have light magic in there.

As the daughter of the Governor of Dyamond, she is polite and well-behaved around others. She's also quiet, a bit reserved.

But don't let that fool you; she does have a slight temper, one that could rival her sister's. It just takes a lot to get her there as she's normally quite a jolly young woman.

(I hope this answers your questions! Sorry it took so long, I had to plan this out.)

[darkpoisonouslove]

!!!!!! I'm glad somebody noticed all of this nonsense!

The Mandragora thing is even dumber because I think she was the Keeper of Obsidian but then got corrupted and she was imprisoned inside Obsidian as well... You know, the place that she was supposed to guard and can obviously still open the gate to and get out of whenever she wants. Brilliant decision-making there (just like imprisoning the witch of ice in Omega, a dimension made of ice, in 3x01).

The Ancestral Witches are really brought down in their role of a major threat because they a) didn't realize that they can just send Mandragora out to run errands for them and, oh, maybe try to free them? and b) didn't sense Bloom's Dragon Fire at the end of season 1 at the latest! I think they must have known Daphne gave it away but they couldn't sense it on Earth because it's supposedly not part of the Magic Dimension (even though season 4 insists that Earth also had magic up until a few hundred years ago but I digress). Add to that them being trapped in Obsidian and I can see how they didn't do anything earlier but season 2 implies that the events of the first season and especially the final battle awoke the Shadow Phoenix who was also supposedly trapped somewhere by some paladin? I see no reason why the Ancestral Witches wouldn't have sensed the Dragon Fire as well. Plus, we know they still could reach Valtor psychically or whatever because they did so in season 3... to force him into his demon form instead of being slightly useful and helping him so that he can go and help them in return and free them. There is zero logic and intelligence to any part of this.

It's the exact same with the Company of Light situation. All of them are shown to have been right there! and the portal even has the crest of the Company so they were the ones who opened it. They must have known where it led and it makes sense that they'd try to trap the Witches in Obsidian so why don't they know where Marion and Oritel are???? Honestly, my only thought here is that Lysslis showed an illusion to Bloom that is a lie just like what Valtor did in 3x14. The point was to upset her and Lysslis used some of the truth aka the way they got Oritel and how Marion transferred her spirit in his sword but she for some reason also added the rest of the Company to the vision? Because the Ancestral Witches don't really distinguish between the Company and just treat them as one whole? It still doesn't make perfect sense and viewers are not supposed to do this kind of mental gymnastics just to figure out what should be a simple detail in your story.

Also, don't get me started on the prophecy or Bloom's "emotional arc" of "learning to trust the people who love her" because those were both such a disaster. Winx did pretty much nothing while they were in Obsidian and would have all died, including Bloom, if not for Sky saving everyone and Bloom did not trust him or the Winx. In fact, she was despairing the whole time, which... fair, but the movie acted like she supposedly had some grand epiphany of belief in the people around her even though she still felt alone right up to the very end.

I’ve been rewatching The Secret of The Lost Kingdom because of Reason™️ and every time I try to understand what’s going on and why are things happening the way they are, it feels as though I’m missing so much stuff. Maybe I’m just dumb, but what’s Mandragora’s deal? The wiki says she’s Obsidian keeper, but if that’s the case how do Faragonda and Hagen instantly recognize her when she attacks Alfea?

The whole Obsidian subplot doesn’t make sense considering the whole Company was there when the portal was open and they must’ve known where it led to even before Oritel and Marion were sucked in it, but back to the Ancestral Witches—are they dumb or something? You’re telling me they just had the chance to give their power to Mandragora this whole time and they never took it before today? Not to kill the rest of their enemies, even if just for revenge? Not to go after the Dragon Flame? Not even to help Valtor when he came back?

Why did they wait so long to go after Bloom if the reason they unleashed a war upon Domino in the first place was because they were after the Dragon Flame? They must’ve known Daphne had entrusted it to her little sister—or did they just randomly assume it was gone somewhere?

[darkpoisonouslove]

What sorts of jobs could you see the Company members and certain Coven members having in a non-magic au? (Including the Ancestral Witches?)

I was just thinking that I haven't gotten asks in a while when this showed up. It's been a hot minute since then and I have maybe slept for 15 minutes today (I genuinely can't tell if i dozed off or just lost track of time so idk) so if something sounds weird, that's probably why.

Griffin - teacher, headmistress, professor, librarian, archivist, bookshop owner, bakery owner, botanist, astronomer, linguist, editor

Faragonda - teacher, professor, headmistress, caretaker, daycare worker, social worker, administration, politician, dance instructor, vet

Hagen - robotics engineer, car mechanic, forest ranger

Saladin - teacher, professor, headmaster, pilot, private investigator

Marion - lawyer, prosecutor, businesswoman, politician, PR agent, artist

Oritel - martial arts instructor, horseback riding instructor, fencing instructor

Valtor - lawyer, prosecutor, businessman, CEO, treasure hunter, grave robber, historian, archaeologist, professor, fashion designer

Belladonna - diamond dealer

Lysslis - art dealer, museum/art gallery curator

I could not for the love of me figure out any kind of job that Tharma would do. Feel free to throw in your own suggestions.

[solariaswitch]

🎶 If me and my gang pull up you better get to running

[thegoddessesofchaos]

Ancestral Witches RP blog(go by AU because canon can't keep straight)

Blog contains mature themes so read at own risk, other than that just don't be a jerk

Main is @bogwitchesofthemulti

[darkpoisonouslove]

Ancestral Witches Meta

I’ve been thinking about the Ancestral Witches the last few days thanks to some of my ideas and I have just further developed some thoughts I’ve had about them. I wouldn’t call this neither a theory, nor meta. It’s more of a something in between but I needed a title so let’s just go with meta for this one.

Before I talk about the Ancestral Witches, I need to lay some groundwork because this meta draws heavily from Greek Mythology and the Moirai aka the Fates. I’ll explain later how the connection between the two trios was made but for now let’s just focus on the Moirai.

Looking at the Moirai, I noticed something interesting (and this may have been said before by others but I reached the conclusion for myself). Atropos is the oldest sister and the one who cuts off the thread of life. Which struck me as odd because as the oldest, she is the one that was born first. So how come death appears before life? If there is nothing that is living, how can death occur? It doesn’t make sense. But maybe that’s the point. She might be the oldest, but without her sisters and the parts of the cycle of life that they represent, her existence is without purpose. So the three Moirai are bound together. Clotho–the youngest–is the one that spins the thread of life. Lachesis–the middle sister–measures it. And Atropos cuts it.

So why am I going on about all of that? Well, first of all, Belladonna is named after Atropos. If you don’t get the connection, don’t worry. That’s because there is a missing link that ties the two together. Now when I first heard Belladonna’s name, I was baffled. Why name her after a poisonous plant when there is no obvious connection? (In all fairness, Belladonna was probably just picked as an Italian name – “The name "belladonna" comes from the Italian language, meaning 'beautiful lady'; originating either from its usage as a cosmetic to beautify pallid skin, or more probably, from its usage to increase the pupil size in women“ (from Wikipedia) – but fandom is all about reading too much into things.

Looking at the full name of the plant belladonna reveals that there is symbolism after all. The scientific classification of the deadly nightshade calls the species Atropa Belladonna after the Greek goddess Atropos. (Tbh I find Lachesis – the name of the middle sister – sounding similar to Lysslis as well.) That is the more obvious connection here but there is also a connection in a symbolic way.

We know Atropos is the one who cuts off the thread of life. In the Winx universe the Dragon Fire is the equivalent of the life force and the Ancestral Witches are the ones looking to destroy it. Domino–the domain of the life force–is frozen solid. Maybe not by Belladonna but the implication is all the same – ice is the opposing element of fire; ice is death in a world where fire is life. So the Ancestral Witch with the power of ice will be the equivalent of the Moira who ends life.

Parallels can be drawn between the other Moirai and Ancestral Witches as well. Assuming that Tharma is the equivalent of Clotho, one can argue that her lightning element stands in for the beginning of life. Lightnings can spark fires (we’ve seen Stormy do that) and lightning is what first created the atmosphere and thus enabled the appearance of life (if we take that as valid for all the planets in the Magic Dimension which can be assumed since we’ve never heard of someone needing to adjust to the atmosphere of another planet and the girls have talked about breathing oxygen). Lightning can also be equated to the electrical impulses the brain uses to operate the body. In other words – life.

The connection between Lysslis and Lachesis is more tricky but one can argue that darkness is in a way the measure of fire the same way Lachesis measures the thread of life. In darkness you can see the light of fire from a much bigger distance than during the day. How brightly the fire burns also dictates how much of the darkness it can disperse. There’s also an interesting contrast in the sense of manipulation since fire is used to help see in the dark while the manipulator (in this case Lysslis aka the darkness) sees more than the manipulated person (in this case the bearer of the fire). In a way that could even be described as perception and how much it can light up. The darkness is every existing thing in the environment and the flame is a person’s knowledge and awareness of that environment – you can only ever see as far into the darkness as you know about it.

This is where my thoughts veer towards Valtor (which is not an explored route yet) but I found it curious that parallels could be drawn between the Ancestral Witches and the Moirai. After all, the first trio is depicted as evil while the latter is definitely falling under neutral at most. What I like in this comparison is the idea that the three need to stick together which I would like to apply more to the Trix, actually, rather than the Ancestral Witches since the show has had moments that leave you questioning why Icy needs Darcy and Stormy. And this is an interesting way to view their powers as complementary since they tend to seem rather randomized.

[darkpoisonouslove]

@her-majesty-wears-jeans Well, I told you I’d like to try this with the Ancestral Witches so let’s see how it will go!

Trying to summon the courage she knew was hiding somewhere behind her growing panic, Griffin forewent knocking and just pushed the door open. The Ancestral Witches’ gazes pierced her frame once she was out of the cover of the wood to eliminate any impulse to break her respectful stance and meet their eyes instead of keeping her head lowered as she accepted what they had to say about the success of her strategy.

“Having Valtor bring us a witch dreaming to be a scholar was both an offense and a disgrace,” Belladonna’s voice slid down her nerves like the ghostly touch of a dead hand looking to freeze her spine and break it once it was drained of life and fragile. “Luckily for you, Griffin, your skills on the battlefield will get all of us, dark magic users, places,” Belladonna’s praise of her destructive touch was like a pat on the back instead that was cold enough to have her teeth shatter from how violently it would’ve made them chatter had she let herself be ungrateful for the percentage of her skillset that was being appreciated instead of mocked and the opportunity to change the world she’d sought, “as soon as you blast the doors off.”

A thunder rolled outside as if trying to make her jump out of her place and earn herself a punishment for flinching - as if she dared judge - at Tharma’s celebratory spirit, which was what the storm was about as it was the equivalent of fireworks to the Ancestral Witches with the added benefit of a great callback to all the people Tharma had struck out of the way of a better world for dark magic users.

Griffin let her frantic heartbeat whisk her away from the thoughts of distinction of panic and excitement in her mind that were too clear even amidst the air rushing in and out of her lungs to escape Lysslis’ psychic waves that were keenly crashing into her in their attempts to break through the walls of her consciousness.

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Life at The Ancestral Manor” Trivia

I just wrote “Life at The Ancestral Manor” and there were things that I wanted to lay out here since they didn’t make it in the fic or weren’t given all the details.

- The Ancestral Manor is called that way as it is passed down from father to son ever since it was built centuries ago. Tradition dictates that every man in the family needs to marry a woman with at least the same or higher social status who also has golden eyes as that is a rare genetic mutation believed to be a sign of the person being chosen by the Great Dragon. The woman then becomes the Mistress of the Ancestral Manor and takes care of everything that needs to be handled around the mansion while her husband runs the family diamond company until their son marries and both the Manor and the company find themselves under new management. Marriages are often arranged.

- The rumors mentioned in the story are true. Belladonna and her sisters did not have golden eyes but had a surgery to make their irises golden which left them blind and dependent on expensive technology to see. All the funds were provided by Argulus Darkar’s father - the previous Lord Darkar, in exchange for lower prices on the diamonds once the sisters made their way into the Manor. Even he didn’t know where they came from, though, as they covered their tracks carefully and that album Lysslis has saved is the only proof of their past and their deception.

- Belladonna married to become the Mistress of the Ancestral Manor. Lysslis and Tharma lived with her in the manor. Lysslis was married briefly herself. Not because she wanted to be, but because she didn’t want people saying that she couldn’t find a husband. She made him file for a divorce within a week of their wedding, though, as being a wife wasn’t what she’d planned on doing with her life and people remained saying that she’d chased him away with how much of a hellbeast she was which didn’t bother her since it was true. Tharma didn’t marry at all. She didn’t feel it necessary and, unlike Lysslis, she didn’t care what people would say and didn’t have the patience to play through the whole charade so she decided to save herself the trouble.

- Valtor is biologically the son of Belladonna and her husband who she killed by staging a car accident. After she got away with it, she also murdered Valtor’s grandmother by pushing her off the balcony in broad daylight but no one managed to prove it was anything but an accident when Lysslis and Tharma were having all of the servants out in the backyard and they all saw the woman fall but no one suspected Belladonna since she was allegedly out with Valtor and no one saw her sneaking in and out of the mansion. All of that happened when Valtor was too little to even remember his father and grandmother and Lysslis and Tharma got to share their sister’s title of Mistresses of the Ancestral Manor and also his mothers.

- Fast forward some years and Valtor met Griffin when he was at a party Argulus was throwing. Griffin was there because Bloom dragged her along with her and she went despite not approving of her relationship with Argulus who was twice her age (she’d just graduated high school (all of that is explained in the fic)). She thought that it was better to go with her and watch out for her than let her go alone. After Marion and Oritel’s death, Bloom and Daphne were raised by Mike and Vanessa with Griffin and Faragonda being around all the time since they felt responsible for the girls even if both were very young and had just graduated high school themselves. So they grew close with the girls and Bloom took to Griffin, referring to her as “aunt” but she was more of a best friend. So she asked her to go with her and inadvertently brought Griffin and Valtor together.

- It didn’t take Valtor’s mothers long to discover that he was seeing someone and that it was serious. They tried to break them up when they learned Griffin was a middle class high school teacher as that was unacceptable and Valtor was already in love. They brought in exes of both of them and tried to play their insecurities against them but Griffin and Valtor persisted until they finally gave up. It changed the way they behaved and they agreed to let her join the family if she took a DNA test and the results confirmed that her genes would combine well with Valtor’s to make for a strong child. It sounded like something that came straight out of a horror movie but Griffin went through with it because she was deeply in love and was sure that Valtor was the one for her and they quickly had a date for the wedding.

- That was as big of a nightmare as could have been expected. It was literally on the coldest day of the year as picked by Belladonna. It was far bigger and more expensive than Griffin had wanted it to be. There were too many guests almost all of which were rich friends of Belladonna and her sisters and Griffin could barely stand it. Especially when the few people on her side were shoved in the back since they were less important to her future mothers-in-law. Also, it was most certainly done so that “the common folk” wouldn’t embarrass them in front of their snobby friends. She was sick of it. And that didn’t even include the fiasco with the dress when they dragged her through different stores when she’d wanted to have Stella make it for her as the girl was a talented designer. They insisted that her wedding dress couldn’t be by a nameless designer and proceeded to try to stuff her into the most hideous cuts she’d ever seen. In the end she told them that she was putting on the dress she liked and if they tried to peel it off of her, she’d go to her wedding with their blood staining the white of her dress. She’d had it with them especially after the way they’d offended her mother (and father despite the fact that he was dead for a few years now) of being cheap and not caring enough for her daughter to give her a beautiful wedding aka an expensive one.

- The following conversation took place at Griffin and Valtor’s wedding and you’re getting it because I thought it up and there was nowhere to put it in the fic:

Tharma: And what do we do about that wife of his, sisters?

Belladonna: Griffin is too in love with him but other than that she has the makings of a Mistress of the Ancestral Manor. She’s water just waiting to turn into ice.

Lysslis: And she will. Once we’ve shown her the warped reflection of her already being as cold as us that we’ve created, she’ll quickly make it truer than we ever could.

- So, as might have become clear from the point above, Tharma does not like Griffin at all. She has a sharp tongue and quick wit which clash with Tharma’s ideas of a prefect daughter-in-law (who would be someone docile and quiet). Lysslis does not like Griffin either but she likes who she thinks she can make her be and that is a copy of herself. Belladonna is the only one who actually likes Griffin the way she is which may sound confusing after that line about water waiting to turn into ice but it is true. Water does naturally turn into ice and Belladonna is convinced that once Griffin has been slapped in the face enough times by what it means to be the Mistress of the Ancestral Manor, she will harden. In her own sick way Belladonna empathizes with Griffin and even sees her as an equal since she is the one she’s passing her title down on to and even if Lysslis and Tharma got the title for themselves, too, it was never truly and officially theirs.

- Belladonna refers to Griffin by name and occasionally as “the Mistress of the Ancestral Manor”. Lysslis uses all the pet names she can think of to make sure that Griffin wouldn’t want Valtor to use them for her. Tharma only uses her name when she addresses her directly and she is “Valtor’s wife” (previously “Valtor’s girlfriend” and “Valtor’s fiance” respectively) in all other instances.

- (The fic covers what happened between the points above and below.)

- Griffin does end up having the daughter that she wanted despite the whole family tree being made up of male heirs. It was a bit of an accident when she forgot to take her pills one night and she panicked when she learned she was pregnant because she was scared of what her mothers-in-law would do to her daughter and if they wouldn’t try to kill her while she was pregnant. She never got to find out as the three old witches were killed when the mansion was attacked one night when she and Valtor were having dinner with Argulus and Bloom. A dinner that Griffin had been very opposed to and wasn’t quite sure if she was glad she went to even after the murder of her mothers-in-law. Which coincidentally was just shortly after Bloom dug deeper into the murder of her own parents and discovered that it was Belladonna and her sisters who were behind it which Griffin told her was certain even if the evidence was circumstantial and not enough to get them convicted. The murders of Belladonna and her sisters were never solved and Valtor demolished the entire mansion and rebuilt it since he had grounds for that on account of murder taking place in the building and making it too traumatic to live in it the way it was and Darcy got to have the normal life her father was deprived of.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Belladonna: What's this?

Valtor: My to-do list.

Lysslis: I'm glad to see you're finally becoming more organi-

Tharma: This only says "Griffin".

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Life at The Ancestral Manor”

Summary: Griffin wanted to share her future with Valtor but in agreeing to give him her life she also agreed to give it to the way things happen in his home of tradition that his mothers are making sure will be upheld. Can she hope that relationship will be allowed to grow and develop when she needs to put her everything into surviving each day they try to make her something that she’s not?

Mentions of death, murder, self-mutilation, arson, cults, coma, physical and emotional abuse, parental abuse, sex, sex toys, not consented to stop of birth control, alcohol abuse, cooking deer meat in detail (which was oddly disgusting to me so...) and strong language. Also, there are mentions of Bloom x Darkar and Bloom's portrayal isn't very flattering although it is just a reimagined version of the events in canon (plus, a few details that weren't there).

I had the mighty need to see Griffin and Valtor living with the Ancestral Witches for some reason the other day and I set out to write it. Well, this is what came of it. A lot of super fucked up stuff because it is the Ancestral Witches. Also, it is super long again because, of course, it is.

"That was delicious, Griffin," Valtor praised as he wiped his mouth with his napkin after he was done with his French toast.

Griffin smiled at him gently as she was careful not to let any venom seep out of her and poison him. "I'm glad you liked it." At least he appreciated all of her efforts. She was an early bird but that didn't make her love the fact that she had to rush to the kitchen and get started on breakfast instead of curling up into Valtor's side and greeting him with a kiss when he woke up. Of course, she didn't have to when there were people she could fall back on to do it for her but that meant never being allowed in the kitchen again and she'd fought too hard to earn her own agency of choice to let that happen.

"It certainly exceeds a number of other meals I've had," Belladonna said, her voice smooth like the surface of ice under your fingertips and just as cold, killing the compliment before it could even turn into such.

Griffin forced the smile to keep stretching her facial muscles when her mother-in-law's golden eyes found hers despite the discomfort that caused her. That was as much as she could hope to get from the woman who killed animals in cold blood for fun and had taught Valtor to do it, too. Or rather it was all she hoped there would be to her condescension.

"Rather simple, but we all have to resign to the limitations when you have to do it all yourself," Belladonna continued, making Griffin let the breath she was holding out of her nose as slowly and inconspicuously as she let her own pride slip out of her hands and shatter on the floor without even a sound to mourn its pitiful end. She couldn't make a scene at breakfast. It would just ruin her whole day when they made it their mission to make it hell. "I don't understand why you insist on doing it when the help is right here to do it for you but it is your choice and we all respect that," Belladonna kept stuffing ice cubes in her heart to make it freeze over like her own and have water flowing in her veins instead of blood. Even all the tea in the world couldn't warm her now and it was just Valtor's warm presence at her side that kept her from dying in the embrace of the hypothermia that was her mother-in-law's weapon of choice.

"I enjoy it, Mother Belladonna," Griffin said, her voice cutting lines in the thin ice separating her from the freezing water below that she was skating on. She could let her righteous anger sharpen her as much as she wanted as she tried to cling on to everything she loved and not let it sink in the cold indifference that was being forced on her but there was no escape from her frozen prison when Belladonna was taking away all of her sources of joy with ease as the fight was on her territory.

She couldn't help but catch Lysslis' smile of belittlement when it was designed to draw her attention to her and get in her head where it would start taking apart who she was to make space for who they wanted her to be. She'd need all that luck Zarathustra had wished her when she and Ediltrude had learned the three witches were to be her mothers-in-law. Having to force herself to cook every day because she would lose her kitchen privileges otherwise was draining every spark of happiness she was getting from the activity already but she wouldn't let them win. It had barely been half a year after she and Valtor had gotten married in the dead of winter and she still had more fight in her even if the heat of summer was not helping when she was home from school and trapped in their killer company.

"Simplicity is trending right now so if anything, Griffin is just staying up-to date, mother," Valtor took her side–quite literally as they were sitting opposite of his mothers at the long table in the dining room–and she would kiss him if she could. Currently though, she couldn't even catch his hand under the tablecloth since his mothers were watching them restlessly like the stars never stopped looking over all of the planets and they would see it instantly which would just pose a problem to the two of them as the three old hags didn't approve of witnessing displays of affection.

They didn't approve of affection in general and had only taken her as a daughter-in-law after DNA tests that had confirmed a child of hers and Valtor's would have an excellent genetic makeup making her nauseous in the process as they'd erased her humanity with one quick swipe over her being. The tests and the fact that she had golden eyes like all the other women of the Ancestral Manor. She'd literally been picked for her body and it had felt like she'd entered medieval times instead of her new life as Valtor's bride. But if anything, it had only stated loudly how much she loved him to go through all of that and be with him. Even his mothers had looked impressed by her determination and hadn't even allowed themselves to insinuate she was a gold-digger.

"Of course, she is," Tharma said, her voice crackling like static like it always did. She always felt like she was about to explode and Griffin was pretty sure that it was like that because that was exactly what was happening. The woman–Griffin would only truly believe any one of them was human when she saw their corpses since none of them seemed to have aged for the past twenty-five years which might have just traumatized Valtor more with the promise of their curse hanging over his head for an undetermined amount of time–didn't even have the proverbial short fuse and could self-detonate on the spot if it weren't for her sisters to keep her collected with their icy gazes and creeping terror. "That is what has kept this family afloat for centuries and every member needs to keep to it." Meaning that they would throw her out the moment she couldn't catch up with their impossible standards.

"Yes, mother," Valtor said, the response automatic at this point but that didn't seem to upset any of his mothers. It seemed to please them rather–nothing better than turning your child into a robot keeping to your every command–and win Valtor and her the opportunity to focus on each other for the time being. "What are you doing today?" Valtor asked, pulling her away from the dreadful reality of their presence and into what was left of her own life, of their life.

He always cared and stopped to ask how she was doing even when his mothers had already piled two hundred other more pressing things on his shoulders. Although, in their eyes everything was more pressing than love and it was a joke when that included "the family reputation" when they didn't even have a definition of family. And if they did, it was distorted by all the shards of cold that were the only remains of their souls.

"Ediltrude and Zarathustra are coming over so... trying to stay sober would be a good start," she said, doing her damnedest to keep her eyes on him and not on the warped reflections of them that his mothers' gazes were when they shared the same eye color but the emotions that came through in the gold were vastly different.

She hated herself for slipping into the anxiousness their presence loaded her with like she was nothing more than yet another weapon they could yield to hurt him like they'd done their whole life by turning what he loved against him and making him hate it. They would interfere anyway so she had to make the most of it and focus on him. Him and what the day had to offer once she managed to free herself from the net of their scrutiny.

"You know how hard it is to refuse Ediltrude to drink with her." Valtor and Ediltrude had hit it off that first Christmas and she'd never gotten to meet his mothers at the appointed Christmas dinner which had given her one last holiday free of their presence but there'd been retribution from them towards Valtor that had kept him from seeing her as well. "Even when it's eleven a.m." That wasn't going to be her saving grace either and she could only hope for a miracle to keep the alcohol away from her and Ediltrude away from it.

"I'm sorry, dear," or a curse, "but you're going to have to reschedule," Lysslis grabbed at the chance to ruin her plans so viciously that it was bleeding toxic glue on her to get her stuck in the place they wanted her, in their own garden of misery they'd personally grown just for her in some sort of sick gift that did everything for them and nothing for her. Nothing good that was. "Today will not be possible," Lysslis said and Griffin was surprised she'd given her the opportunity to speak a few sentences before she'd let her own tongue slither out. But of course, that way it was Griffin's words that ripped into her when she'd allowed herself to believe she could have something her way in the home from hell.

"I thought you didn't have any urgent work today, Mother Lysslis," Griffin let herself play dumb when she'd double checked with their personal assistant. Mandragora was an oversized pest that completely deserved her name when she started screeching the moment someone who wasn't her bosses poked her the wrong way–or any way, really–but she wouldn't allow herself to lie to her if it concerned her and her mothers-in-law's dealings did since they insisted on holding all their meetings at the mansion as if offices didn't exist. But apparently they weren't too old to retire but were too old to work outside the mansion.

"Exactly," Belladonna said and Griffin could only hate herself for how helpless she was against the way her blood froze at a single word from the woman. "There will be nothing to distract us from the presence of your mismatched friends," she said and Griffin couldn't even draw in all the breath she needed when the ice needles of Belladonna's gaze on her would poke holes in her lungs if she allowed them to expand past their normal movements. "I will never understand how someone with your poise and grace can stand to be around people who are so... unrefined."

The trap clicked closed, holding both her heart and her tongue and threatening to pluck them out if she dared let them run free but she couldn't just keep sitting obediently like a dog while Belladonna threw insults of her friends in her face like they were treats she'd deserved for good behavior. She had to stand up for herself and her friendship.

"That's okay," she let the honey drip from her lips sweet like a topping they'd all hopefully choke on to go with her steely gaze that would've cut through anyone else but only had the ice of Belladonna's biting back into it in a warning that was more a red flag rather than a courtesy even if her rage was already burning white hot and Griffin hadn't even started. "You're busy figuring out so many other things. We've got this one covered for you, Mother Belladonna," Griffin said, looking right into the molten abyss that her mother-in-law's eyes were as if it wasn't absolutely suicidal and wouldn't doom her to a terribly agonizing death. But she needed to let her know just what she meant with that.

Belladonna had just sisters and a son she'd done her best to break and mold according to her own vision while Griffin had the twins who were her sisters in everything but blood and her husband she loved enough to accept even as he came packaged with three sociopaths because that was what love was. But of course, there was no way for Belladonna to know that when all her friends were fake and the best she could hope for after her own husband's death–or murder–were the business partners who only stayed in contact with her out of obligation. She was sure no one would stick around which just posed the question how genuine any sisterhood between her mothers-in-law was. And they could all hear it echoing loudly around them even if Belladonna would love to crush it under a block of ice just like she'd handle her.

"Speaking of meetings," Lysslis saved her–not before Belladonna made it clear that had Griffin been anyone else other than Valtor's wife, she would've stuffed her in the fridge and served her in small pieces at her annual reception celebrating the foundation of the family business year after year so the guests would be infected with her agony for life even if they wouldn't know it���although they definitely weren't speaking of meetings but rather of a killing match at this point but Griffin wasn't quick to relax before she learned the price of the little miracle she'd let her have. "I will have you inviting your mother to come shopping with us next Saturday," she was quick to inform her what suffering she'd traded her current predicament for and her tone was so casual as she knew she'd set it up perfectly to make Griffin sacrifice what little time she actually got to spend with Valtor in the name of an activity she hated even when she was with her friends. Of course, she'd pick Saturday even when they could go shopping literally any other day of the week.

"Of course, Mother Lysslis," she agreed so readily that it made her sick of her own pretense. Or rather the lack of such when she knew she didn't have any other choice but to leave herself at Lysslis' hands now since Belladonna was still mad at her and Tharma was normally angry on a good day and neither of them would hold back Lysslis' wrath was Griffin to unleash it. All she had left was to hope she'd manage to stand her ground while going around stores that were far off from the plane of existence of a high school teacher since they'd let up a bit on trying to dictate her choice of clothes after the preventive measures she'd taken in regards to that. "If I may ask who "us" includes so that my invitation will be the most accurate version of itself?" Griffin prodded carefully even when she knew that kind of sneakiness would never work with Lysslis.

"The three of us, you and your mother, of course," Lysslis said, the metallic rays of her mind piercing through Griffin's heart easily when it was so softened by the hope she'd let fill it that she'd only have to stand straight under the burden of Lysslis' cunning and manipulations.

Great. It was bad enough when she was being buried under all the insecurities Lysslis managed to dig out without even damaging her manicured nails in any way to get her to bend to her will. Having all three of them against her when they made her head spin with how fast they had her in and out of different outfits was a battle she wasn't sure she'd be able to win even with her mother by her side.

History was more Valtor's area of expertise but she could find herself in need of turning to it and making it repeat. They'd left her alone the previous time when she'd set the wardrobe on fire–all the clothes they'd bought that afternoon had been lost by the time Mike had arrived with his firemen and she'd only mourned the money that had been wasted instead of going towards something productive–and they hadn't tried to order her around directly after that. They'd instead taken a stealthier approach, mostly leaving Lysslis to handle her by fishing out her fears with her teeth hidden behind the warpaint that her blood red lipstick was.

She used them to decorate her attitude of supremacy while she decorated Griffin however she wanted to when the shadows she'd grown in her mind were twisting and turning it as they tried to snap it in half and Griffin was too busy trying to free herself from them to have any energy left to spare on keeping Lysslis out of her head as well. There was no way she could handle all three of them when they sank their claws in her and tried to rip her apart to stuff the pieces of her in whatever clothes they deemed appropriate. So another arson might be due. Even if the only reason Tharma hadn't slapped her for endangering the mansion had been that Valtor had stepped in front of her and gotten slapped himself.

Despite their constant verbal abuse and mind games, they'd never allowed themselves physical violence before that. And after it, too, as Tharma had spent the next week suspended in her room and the glaring empty space on Belladonna's right had somehow only reinforced the idea that she was an all-powerful monster not to be messed with. The lack of reaction on Valtor's part towards the bruise forming on his cheek had been what had made her break down in their bedroom, though, and lament her choice until he'd picked her up and carried her to the bed where he'd told her to never stop defending her agency when it wasn't her that was hurting him. It had never been. And she'd worn his fierce love of her like her armor against Lysslis' attempts to convince her that it was all her fault.

It had worked that time. She could only hope it would work again even if that left her heart too malleable and easy to manipulate.

"It would be nice to spend some time with her," Lysslis said and Griffin would have been afraid of how easily the lie dripped from her lips if she weren't used to it. In fact, assuming that everything that came out of her mouth was a lie was the best way to deal with Lysslis and avoid falling for her traps. It might have been unfair if it weren't true ninety-nine percent of the time and the fact that even Tharma and Belladonna were mindful of her and double checked her story when she'd done something on her own just confirmed that. "We haven't seen good old Emalyn in so long," Lysslis shook her head as if in regret. And perhaps it was.

Perhaps it was regret that they had to socialize with a lowly middle class retired nursery teacher. Emalyn was everything that they weren't and knowing Griffin carried her genes was only looked over because the DNA tests overrode it in importance by proving that those were the perfect genes to combine with Valtor's and somehow that made Griffin's genetic makeup desirable all of a sudden.

And to call her mother old as if they weren't ancient even though they didn't look the part? That was an insult Griffin would never swallow if her mom hadn't warned her not to get into fights with her mothers-in-law on her behalf after they'd made a remark about taking all the expenses on the wedding since, apparently, Emalyn and that dead husband of hers were no good to even pay for their daughter's wedding–which had been far bigger and much more expensive than Griffin had ever wanted it to be but she'd had no say on the matter as they'd insisted that a new marriage in the family had to be a public affair–and Griffin had been ready to rip they heads off. Emalyn had stopped her, though, and reminded her that it would only hurt herself and Valtor and her mom could never want that for them which had proven that she was the only mother either of them had despite allegedly having four.

Griffin mirrored that smile Lysslis gave guests when she wanted them to know that all that they were was met with contempt. She'd learned how to reflect it even if some of the effect was lost when she could never hope to have been capable of pulling it off without seeing it first. "I'm sure she shares the sentiment." She most certainly did considering the depth of the resentment thriving in the shade of the words.

"Now that that's settled," Tharma stepped in and drew her attention away from where Lysslis looked proud that Griffin had picked something up from her instead of being offended, "we can talk about dinner."

"Is there anything special you would like for dinner, Mother Tharma?" Griffin asked, her stomach trying to do a somersault that would send all of the food she'd just ingested back up her throat to make space for whatever Tharma would want of her now but Griffin held it back. She couldn't let them now she got sick whenever they made their requests that ranged from mildly offensive through awful to horrendous. Especially when she was sure they suspected. She couldn't give them the confirmation herself.

"Valtor will have some good news for us tonight so I thought we should celebrate," Tharma said and Griffin did her best not to clutch at her fork since she was pretty sure she would snap it in half even if it was solid stainless steel. Which was exactly the same reason that she didn't try to catch Valtor's hand to help him drain off some of the pressure Tharma had just piled on his shoulders if there hadn't been enough of that already. "And a special occasion calls for a special meal, doesn't it?" Tharma asked as if they were kindergartners whose brains hadn't developed enough yet to make a simple connection if it weren't pointed out to them. And also to let the dread set deep inside Griffin's body when she'd most certainly have her cooking some animal they had caught.

"You know that Argulus is our best client so you need to be at the top of your game," Belladonna reminded Valtor as if he hadn't been working at the company ever since he'd turned eighteen. By now he would have most certainly learned that even if his mind weren't as sharp as the diamonds they were selling but she just had to nag as if Valtor hadn't renegotiated contract terms with Argulus before. They were practically friends and even if loyalties weren't really a thing in their business, she was sure that Argulus would at least try to resolve any potential issue before going elsewhere for his precious diamonds.

"Yes, mother," Valtor agreed, his tone snappy when his patience was starting to give way under their distrust in him even after they'd stolen his youth and replaced it with preparations to become the head of the business and he'd been doing the job for years. "I always am." Valtor seemed to have had the exact same thought and she wanted to smile at them sharing a mind but that would be misplaced and would most certainly get stained by his mothers' intolerance of their happiness if they saw it. And they would.

"Hardly true half of the time," Lysslis was quick to cut off his unexpected bout of confidence like it was a flower she'd decided to pluck off for decoration of her table. Except she didn't like flowers and it had been completely unnecessary, not to mention far heavier a crime when it was her own son she'd hurt. But of course, she only cared about that in a backwards fashion where she was prouder when the damage she'd done was bigger.

Griffin had to do something since she couldn't watch him like that. He already looked like a sunflower that had withered prematurely and she needed to stop them before they could do more damage. Even if it meant drawing their attention to herself.

"I can cook his favorite-"

"Roast leg of venison," Tharma interrupted her before she could even suggest that she did something her husband would enjoy even if the dinner was supposed to celebrate his success and the order was clear in the tone that allowed no objections. Not that she could have any–as much as she hated to admit it–since they certainly knew their game better than she did. She wouldn't be caught dead going near the stuff if they weren't making her. "Sliced venison tongue salad as an appetizer and venison liver crème caramel for dessert will complete the menu to perfection," Tharma said, looking at her like she expected her to throw up on the spot. Which, frankly, sounded like an appealing option.

"Yes, of course, Mother Tharma," Griffin agreed as she did her best to hold in her disgust–especially when it came to the dessert idea–but she might have started turning green since Tharma looked pleased. Though, that might have been how quickly she'd relented when she knew she didn't have an alternative. She rarely had any other option but to do as they wished. As if they were giving her the occasional treat for being such a well-trained lapdog and if the cooking adventures that awaited her hadn't made her sick already, then that thought was certainly helping.

"Valtor, don't forget there's also a delivery coming in today," Tharma turned to him, a look of warning striking him to remind him it was all very secretive and had to remain that way. Which was why the deliveries were made directly to Valtor's office and personally to him instead of to the house where either the personnel or a random guest could get their hands on the forbidden knowledge of what was in Tharma's box. Well, the deliveries were for all the three witches.

"Don't worry, mother, your products are in good hands," Valtor allowed himself the indiscretion which to Griffin was amusing but Tharma didn't seem to appreciate the threat of having the insides of her words exposed even if it was too late for that. Valtor had already told Griffin it was their ozone cosmetics that were proving to be the fountain of their youth. That and the countless souls they chewed on slowly year after year and consumed the energy of everyone around them to sustain themselves. The perfect crime indeed. "Have I ever forgotten before?" Valtor asked and she had to catch his hand to let him know she was proud of his continuing bravery after they chewed into him every time he displayed it. She couldn't care less that they'd notice. Let them see.

"Of course not, Valtor," Tharma seemed to agree which meant that there was more. "You'd never fail to listen when I remind you." There it was. And of course, she'd steal everything he deserved the credit for. They weren't just energy vampires. They sucked out entire lives and they'd been doing that to Valtor under the guise of raising him ever since he'd been born.

"Go now," Belladonna urged, her gaze cutting into the space between the two of them to indicate that she was in a rush to separate them. Heaven forbid they actually got to enjoy any of their time together when they weren't locked in their own bedroom.

"Yes, mother," Valtor didn't try to protest since it would only get them both snowed in under an avalanche of critiques and he wanted to save them from that. "Have a nice day," he barely spared at his mothers before turning to her. "Goodbye, Griffin," he said as he made sure to catch her gaze and let her know how much he loved her since saying it out loud would only draw the dirt of their disapproval to it. "Make the best of the day," he said since he knew very well that she much preferred to be at work instead of stuck at home with his mothers all day–he'd been through that hell and knew it even better than she did–and kissed her cheek, his lips letting so much tenderness soak into her skin even though the contact was brief.

"Have a nice day yourself," Griffin wished as she squeezed his hand. She knew how much he overworked himself when she was the one massaging all the stress out of his stiff muscles every evening while his mothers were resting all their burden on his shoulders.

"Well, now it will be," Valtor squeezed back to let her know he'd gotten the message. "Even if it doesn't want to," he said before letting go.

Griffin smiled at the optimism that needed just a ray of encouragement to come out from under the years of trauma and bad experiences his so called family had buried it under and completely on purpose at that. But they hadn't managed to smother it in all the cold they'd given him instead of oxygen. It was still there and she was ready to shine on it with all of her love to see it grow and reach for the cosmos since it was strong enough to do that. Especially with her faith in him to support it.

"You should start on dinner, Griffin," Belladonna said, her cold breath making the surface of Griffin's eyes freeze over to keep the sight of Valtor's retreating back out of them and it sent chills down her spine.

"Of course, Mother Belladonna," Griffin agreed and quickly slipped out of her chair and towards the kitchen. She didn't have to object when she was perfectly content with finally being out of their sight as their eyes were like molten lava just waiting to erupt and swallow her to bury her in a cage of obsidian. Even the nightmare waiting for her in the kitchen was a better option than that.

Once in the kitchen–that was suspiciously empty even though there was always personnel in there but, of course, they wouldn't let her have any help when they'd set out to torture her–Griffin made it her first order of business to pull a deer leg out of one of the freezers. They should have probably been kept in a different space altogether considering there were a lot of them–and all were full of hunting game–but her mothers-in-law liked to keep their trophies nearby. And in this particular instance it made her job easier since she only had to get the meat to the table where she could leave it to thaw while she looked for recipes.

She was no expert on cooking meat and the one time she'd cooked deer meat, all three old hags had complained it was overcooked and stiff. She could ask them on how she was supposed to cook what they wanted but after the humiliating experience of having them lecturing her about it the previous time even though they hadn't cooked a thing in their lives and the kitchen was her territory but they'd still trumped her when they knew how well cooked venison was supposed to look and taste, she would sooner die than let them coach her again. Which would still happen if she didn't pull the three-course dinner off so she needed to do her research. Fortunately, that was when the internet came to her rescue.

Of course, they'd give her tasks that would send all of her day to hell. The total time she'd need for all the dishes if she decided to cook them separately was about nine hours which would still leave it ready in time for dinner but would make her unwilling to set foot in the kitchen ever again which would mean that they'd won. So multitasking it was.

That would have been much easier if she was actually acquainted with cooking any of those dishes and also didn't prefer to cut out their tongues and cook them instead of the deer tongues she was left with even though they still made for a better company than her mothers-in-law. Not to mention that the leg she'd gotten was too big for the recipe she'd found and she needed to switch it with a smaller one. At least the kitchen was well stocked so she had the ramekins she needed for the crème caramel. Products and utensils were not the problem, really. No, what was the problem was that it was all set up against her.

The crème caramel was the cherry on top truly since they knew desserts were her pride and specialty and were doing their best to turn that against her. Succeeding, too, unlike her who wasn't even given the chance to come out of that fight victorious since, apparently, the liver for the crème should have been soaked in milk from the previous evening. They were setting her up for failure and she was starting to lose it long before she'd made it to any of the actual cooking.

She considered calling her mom but that would definitely fall under procrastinating. Especially when she went on a long rant about how unfair all of it was even though she'd known it would be like that when she'd said "I do" to Valtor. Besides, there was enough time to call her after she was done with that cooking disaster to proceed to the shopping disaster that was showing on the horizon like an antipode to the sunrise she loved dearly.

She had to call the twins to tell them not to come and, hopefully, convince them to stay on the phone with her and keep her company while she cooked even if distractions could prove to be counterproductive. It was the only way for her to handle what was supposed to be one of her favorite activities and she could only count on their love for her to override the fact that she was going to wake them up at least an hour earlier before they would get up now that it was summer vacation. But she needed them to keep her sane like they'd done when her father had died.

Griffin shook her head to make the horrifying memories drop out of it and shatter against the floor as she called Zarathustra. It was the lesser evil since she was probably awake but still doing her best to catch a wink of sleep anyway and could spare Ediltrude the early awakening and Griffin her sister's wrath for the aforementioned crime.

She held her breath as the phone rang and it was yet another reminder that her dear mothers-in-law were killing her but she pushed the thought down to suffocate instead of her. The universe seemed merciful at least in that regard as Zarathustra picked up and even though the call ended up waking Ediltrude, they both agreed to stay on the phone with her and talk since their meeting was so rudely canceled.

"They really denied us access to the sacred ground?" Zarathustra asked, her disbelief far too real considering she knew how the three witches operated but that just made Griffin love her more and be that much more grateful that her friends were so genuine and never made her wonder whether they truly liked her or were just faking it. She could count on them to take up any problem with her they had to her and it was the most comforting thought at the moment. "That is so disgustingly privileged." Zarathustra scoffed and Griffin could practically hear the disdain forming curses in her head over the speaker phone.

"Believe me, I know," Griffin huffed. "This is my home, too, and I should be able to invite my closest people here," she said, still somewhat surprised that she could think of the mansion as home when she hated so much about it. But it was Valtor's home, the only home he'd ever known, and he'd told her that her presence made it livelier when there were more plants around and the aroma of oregano tea and cookies was luring towards the kitchen. She wanted to be where he was and be his home, and have him be hers, too. "But no, our friendship will sully their décor, I suppose," Griffin said, nearly grateful for the rage over their treatment of her relationships as it would help her get through the meat. Quite literally since she needed to make holes in the leg for the garlic cloves.

"Griff, they're just trying not to go broke since they'll need to restock their liquor cabinet after me and trust me, that shit is expensive as hell," Ediltrude joked, trying to brighten her mood since she could most certainly feel the energy vibrating and brewing inside her even through the phone.

It was enough to scald a normal person but there was no one who fit the description around since her friends were on the other end of the line–and also disaster personified so they were safe on all accounts–the personnel was gone and her mothers-in-law were ancient demons Valtor's father had somehow managed to summon from hell. Most certainly by mistake or ignorance. Nobody would want to be married to a monster like any one of them as Lysslis' husband had proven as he'd filed for divorce just a week after the wedding.

"They're the ones who are way too much expenses on my life," Griffin said as she impaled the meat with the knife. No point in stalling. She had to get to it if she didn't want to be kitchen bound all day like some modern version of Cinderella. Only it was the evil mother-in-law and her sisters against her. Not that that made the fight any easier for her. Quite the opposite, in fact, and all she had left to do was stab the meat with her outrage like she'd completely lost her mind to it. She probably looked like a psychopath so, again, good thing that no one was around. She was pretty sure her mothers-in-law would leap at the chance to have her drugged on her prescribed meds if she gave them a reason to think she needed a psychiatrist.

"Are you sure you should talk like that while in their kitchen?" Zarathustra asked and made her want to scream since she knew how fierce both of the twins were. If they were scared of the witches, then she had to be, too. And she was, but she really didn't appreciate being reminded of that when she had to share living quarters with them. It left her feeling like fish out of water in her own home. Especially when she knew they were well aware of her hatred of them and returned it but still tolerated her when she was the wife they'd needed to buy their son anyway.

"It's my kitchen, Zara," she did her best to cushion her voice as she snapped. It wasn't her friend's fault. No one was at fault except for Belladonna and her sisters. "After Valtor and I got married, we got ownership of the mansion, remember?" Griffin said, trying to convince herself more than anything else.

The mansion could be hers on paper but it still bowed to them completely and so did she when she was more a part of the interior rather than a human being with her own mind and right to making choices. She wouldn't truly be the Mistress of the Ancestral Manor until they were gone even if Belladonna had officially passed the title down to her and despite herself, she wanted to be. She wanted to be if that meant that they would be free of them. Maybe then she could even have a child when she was free of the terror of what they would do with it. Perhaps even a girl and not the obligatory boy to continue the family lineage and find himself a housewife to take care of the precious mansion passed down from generation to generation and binding every next one in its old-fashioned and offensive traditions. Once they were gone, she could set her own rules. If she'd manage to outlive them and the stress they were burying her under as it was far more than six feet on top of her at this point and it'd barely been half a year since the wedding.

"I hate to break it to you, sister, but you're still under their reign," Ediltrude said as she'd sensed her thoughts and was trying to keep her grounded which was not just useful but necessary considering the fight that awaited her but right now it felt good to be in a fantasy. In a world she'd made up where she could have a daughter with beautiful golden eyes that were just that. Beautiful eyes and not a sign that she bore the makings of a Mistress of the Ancestral Manor, a wife. She would be the heiress and own the place. She would be the one who could bring the change the mansion needed and drag it out of the past to forge her own future, one that wouldn't be owned by a breathless, soulless house and the old witches it had made.

"Yes, that was a clause in the contract," Griffin said to grasp at tangible things and the legalities of their deal were the most palpable thing she could think of when they left her with the presence of her mothers-in-law which would last for heaven knew how long. Though, hell would probably be more in place in that sentence. "We have to take care of them until death finally manages to pry life out of their claws." There were chills running through her that weren't coming from the cold meat in her hands when she wasn't sure if even death was stronger than her enemies. And that was a very disturbing thought considering it had taken her father away when he'd always been the most secure heart in her life. "So for the next 30-40 years." Or so she hoped. She could just pray it wouldn't be more even if she weren't religious. She'd never been, and her encounter with her now mothers-in-law had only solidified that position.

"Aren't they, like, ancient?" Ediltrude asked, the pages of her magazine rustling when she probably used it to demonstrate her confusion in a grand, dramatic gesture. And here Griffin had sworn to be careful not to end up with another drama queen as a friend after Ediltrude and Hagen–and herself, too, but that did not go into the current train of thought–only to find herself married to one.

"Yeah. They can't be under seventy at this point even if their magical cosmetics take off twenty years," Zarathustra joined her sister and Griffin was grateful that they were doing their best to provide some comfort but she knew it wasn't up to them when the three witches were in the picture and the cosmetics weren't the only magic at play there. Good diet–despite their passion for hunting, they were careful with the cholesterol that could prove to be the one gun to end them if they didn't control it which, of course, they did very closely–and eating souls were giving splendid results so far. Well, splendid for them.

"Oh, they are," Griffin said, her knife almost flying out of her hand at her own theatrics. "They are seventy-three. At least Belladonna is and I'm still not quite sure whether they're triplets or not." They never disclosed anything personal but that had come out during the transfer of the mansion to the only result of terrifying her all the more when she'd learned she'd been far off in her guess of the woman's age. "But I'm not really sure they're mortal," Griffin confessed and it was so much scarier to hear the thought out loud even if it had been plaguing her mind since she'd learned their age.

Really, they didn't look older than fifty despite their white hair that Griffin could think of at least two purposes for. One, make them look like apparitions to increase the natural terror they awoke in whoever was standing in front of them and two, clash with their painted faces and nails and their designer clothes to tell you they were of age but still had far more class and beauty than you could ever dream of. And it worked on both accounts leaving you with the need to scream but you had to mute yourself somehow because that would just give them more life power and would hand victory to them.

Ediltrude laughed. "Come on, Griffin. The women may be vicious witches – I mean, reindeer meat? Who even eats that nowadays? And knowing that they caught it themselves... Oh, wow, okay." Griffin heard her moving in the armchair she was sitting in, the leather one that definitely did not fit with the rest of the interior of their living room but they both loved and she knew why when she'd found herself dozing off in it more than once since it was that comfortable. "I am starting to see your point," Ediltrude said in that voice that was slightly slowed down from her normal speed of speaking when her mind was racing. "How the fuck are they still hunting at that age?" she asked when she finally did the math that threw you for a loop when it ended in an infinity symbol that stood for their eternal life.

"I'm telling you," Griffin sighed. "They're not human," she said, any thought of stabbing them with the knife she was holding dying out when she wasn't sure she wanted to murder her own hope that they would be the ones to die some day. She wouldn't be able to handle the result of her experiment and the consequences of it. Even if they didn't do anything to her for the attempt on their lives. They would've already done it with the knowledge that it hadn't been an attempt at all when they weren't mortal.

"Well, Lysslis did have a violent reaction to Ediltrude's cat," Zarathustra said as she tried to prove to her that there was fear in her mothers-in-law, too. And it would have worked if the reason for that hadn't been that the cat had snatched a photo album out of Lysslis' bedroom. The way she'd looked around had suggested she was hiding it from her sisters and Griffin supposed that was because it was full of old pictures.

Lysslis wasn't the sentimental type even if she managed to look the part but she certainly was one to keep dirt on her sisters which made Griffin suspect that the album was old and contained evidence from their youth. Evidence that could support the rumors that the three of them had made their way into the manor with deception by having gold injected in their irises which had left them blind and in need of lenses that replaced their lost sight by sending electrical impulses to the brain with the coded visual information.

She wouldn't have trouble believing it at all. She'd seen their ambition taking lives–literally–and was sure that it went as far as mutilating themselves as well. Everything for the metaphorical crown.

That, of course, did not help convince her that they were people and only did the opposite instead even if it brought them down a little on account of them not having all the characteristics of a Mistress of the Ancestral Manor but that hardly mattered when they'd proved that they were the most fearsome women to ever have that title. And Lysslis was cold-blooded enough to keep proof of their monstrosities against her sisters, though that did hint that she was afraid of them. But on the other hand, who wouldn't be? Even monsters could fear other monsters. Especially when they were the same as them.

"Though, they were looking at the snakes like they were moving belts," Zarathustra said like they'd shared the same inner musings when Griffin knew that hadn't been the case. The twins had insisted that it wasn't possible when she'd told them what claims were going around when it came to her mothers-in-law.

"Hush, my babies are still traumatized," Ediltrude scolded which wasn't unexpected since she'd forbidden the topic after she'd had both snakes wrapped around her like they were trying to suffocate her which hadn't really been their intention and had hidden their heads under her hands. They'd gotten scared when they'd felt the thoughts the three old hags would've loved to make true and that only Griffin and the twins had been standing in the way of. As if Ediltrude would ever let anyone hurt her snakes. She would sooner kill than let anyone lay a hand on them or on her sister and that was one thing Griffin could always guarantee no matter who Ediltrude was facing.

"She's cuddling the snakes, isn't she?" Griffin asked as she already had a mental image that she was sure was absolutely precise. It was the other typical characteristic of that leather armchair as it was the usual place where the snakes liked to lounge. Especially if Ediltrude was there–or Zarathustra or Griffin, really–and they could climb all over her.

"Yep. I have a completely insane sister," Zarathustra said and Griffin could see her shaking her head at the sight of Ediltrude cooing at the snakes and stroking them. It was an odd image but one that Griffin was used to by now and had found herself replicating even if she hadn't liked Ediltrude's very idea of pets when she'd had to room with them from the get-go in their college dorm. They'd grown on her, though, and she'd found herself happy to feel them slithering over her the first time the twins had visited the mansion and Ediltrude had thought it appropriate to bring them with her to cheer Griffin up. It had even worked as the snakes had seemed like absolute angels compared to the three she now lived with when she knew the ones curling into her wouldn't hurt her.

"Oh, shut up, Miss I'll-just-go-and-join-a-cult," Ediltrude threw at her sister and almost made Griffin rub at her temples before she remembered she'd just been touching the deer meat and that was definitely ill-advised. She couldn't help the impulse when a fight between the twins was brewing, though, and them focusing on each other was definitely the first and only sign of that as their squabbles only needed so much to kick into motion.

"We agreed to never bring that up again," Zarathustra screeched angrily and Griffin could imagine the way her whole body was moving forward, ready for a fight. Something both twins were always prepared for which made for an explosive atmosphere. Something she'd gotten her fair share of when they'd been roommates. "It was a mistake, okay? You of all people should know enough about that," Zarathustra kept it up and Ediltrude would bite the bait and start harping on, too, in a second and she would lose them to their argument. She had to do something.

"Come on, you two, break it off!" Griffin cried out and it was more desperate rather than authoritative but that was all she could manage at the present time. "I need you to keep me company through this hell of a day, not send each other to hell," she said when she knew that would get them back to her. They were good friends even if they crossed the line sometimes with their teases that went from mischievous straight to cruel faster than a rally car accelerated.

She was picking up Valtor's car figures of speech which was just another thing they would prod into if they knew so she had to be careful not to give herself away.

"Sorry, Griffin," both twins chimed in at the same time which she was sure left them glaring at each other but they kept to the truce she'd called and she was grateful to have their support when there was not much of anything else keeping her focused and stopping her from melting into a puddle of self-pity under the judgment of her mothers-in-law's golden eyes that she could see in her mind perfectly now that they'd taken the time to so helpfully engrave it there.

Dinner took about all day despite her decision to work on the dishes parallel to each other and she ate lunch in the kitchen like she was their servant but that was not correct. She was more of a slave, really, and she was getting tempted to start looking into ways to get away with poisoning them, the only thing that was stopping her being that that wasn't her. Her parents hadn't raised a murderess and she wouldn't let her alleged new mothers make her something that she wasn't, make her like them.

There were rumors that Belladonna had killed her husband for cheating on her which Griffin knew weren't true as much as she hated admitting it. Belladonna certainly wouldn't have tolerated cheating despite how cold and uninviting she was–which was fair enough since that didn't give anyone a pass for cheating–but that was a problem she would have resolved before it had even become such and far more delicately, for certain. A little bromine in his drinks every day and there was nothing to worry about which might have been just the perfect solution from another point of view as well but that was none of Griffin's business and she really didn't need, nor want to go there.

No, what had most certainly seen the three sisters–she was sure Lysslis and Tharma were in on it and might have even helped–committing murder had been the fact that they'd wanted to raise Valtor a certain way and getting rid of his father had been necessary to make sure he wouldn't interfere with that. Which had probably also been the reason behind Valtor's grandmother "falling" off the balcony in the light of day. If they hadn't posed a threat on Belladonna's plans for Valtor's upbringing they probably would've still been alive–her husband at least–and following her agenda just like everyone else was.

Remembering she was one hundred percent certified living with murderesses was not helping her relax when the exhaustion was flaming in her muscles so she dragged herself over to the library to pick a good book to crash on the couch in there with. It was the one place that she adored in the mansion–other than her and Valtor's bedroom–even if Lysslis was often there herself.

There were so many books gracing the shelves with their elegance and knowledge or countless worlds waiting to be explored and it was the richest room in the mansion. It was a dream come true to have a library that size and Griffin took all the chances she got to enjoy it.

She found a book of poetry that seemed to predate even her mothers-in-law–and that was magical in a whole another way as it was proof that they hadn't been there from the start so maybe they wouldn't make it to the end either–and curled up in its embrace. The words were caressing her tenderly–especially when she imagined them in the context of her and Valtor's love–and managed to unwrap some of the day's tension from around her to let her get more comfortable. Almost to the point where she'd fall asleep but that thought was ran over by the sound of Valtor's car pulling over at the driveway.

She laid the book down on the table carefully, letting herself lose the page as all that mattered was finding her way out of the room as soon as possible, and ran down the stairs to greet him. They usually didn't let her do that when they held her hostage in the living room and watched her like she was the wild game they were hunting that day. They didn't want her going out in the rain–concerned about how any potential illnesses would reflect on her ability to bear children, no doubt–but it rained so often over the mansion that she was starting to hate it when she couldn't do any gardening even if it'd used to be a relaxing sound to read a good book to while sipping tea which, really, made perfect sense as a lot of things weren't at all as enjoyable as they'd used to be.

She got the upper hand that evening as she rushed to the door before they could block her way as they came from the study. It was supposed to be Valtor's nowadays but they had no qualms about coming and going as they pleased and rummaging through the documents. They'd even spoiled the surprise when he'd reserved a quiet villa at the seaside for them since they hadn't been able to spoil the vacation itself. At least not to the point to which they'd wanted to.

Sarah stepped out of her way and rather enthusiastically, too, instead of with fear like she avoided the old witches that still acted like they were her bosses when she was officially working for her and Valtor now. It could also have something to do with the fact that she was getting starry eyed at the sight of her and Valtor together as she seemed genuinely happy about them–though, that could be because they treated her as a human and not just as the help–and even congratulated them on their happiness every time she found the occasion.

Griffin opened the door and was met with a bouquet of white gently greeting her eyes as if Valtor had known she would be the one to meet him this time. It must have been some powerful intuitive cue since that was a rarity and he couldn't have predicted it any other way.

"For the woman of my heart," Valtor said as he grinned at her and handed her the gardenias.

She could feel their sweet scent reaching her even when her fingers hadn't even caressed the blossoms yet. It wafted through the air to encapsulate her in itself and entered her brain to pull forward memories of all the previous times he'd brought her flowers–not just gardenias–that were just as exquisite as the bouquet itself.

Griffin took the flowers from him and stepped away to let him in. "Kept safe and sound," she noted as she felt the plastic container that was undoubtedly full of water under her fingers. It was like a small plastic vase hidden under the bouquet wrap to keep the flowers fresh.

"Vanessa knows what she's doing," Valtor said as he took off his coat and let Sarah put it away.

"She certainly does." Unlike that daughter of hers. "And you do, too," Griffin praised as deserved. He'd learned her tastes–though, Vanessa probably knew just as well and would have had him covered anyway–and knew just how to make her day which she really appreciated after the day she'd had. "Come here, man of my heart," she said as she pulled him towards herself, careful not to damage the flowers after he'd found the time in his busy schedule to get them for her.

Her lips were on his and his body pressed into her finally felt like she'd come home after she'd been kept on edge all day like only his mothers could do to her when they shook her sense of self to the very core and made her doubt everything she was and knew. Everything except Valtor and her love for him. That always came out victorious regardless of what schemes they were running–and they'd done their best to separate them by pushing various ghosts of the past in their way until they'd realized that their futures were entangled together and there was no one who could do anything about it–and she trusted she could draw strength from it any time.

Valtor did, too, as he let himself sink into the kiss and pull her deeper in as well when their tongues were dancing together like they sometimes did in the privacy of their bedroom where it was just the two of them in the universe and the rhythm of the music that wrapped around them to keep the happiness of those moments safe and protected. His hands were on her waist and holding her close to him like he always did. It was the most reassuring thing to know he wanted her with him always. Especially when she wanted the same.

She wanted to be with him, for as long as the stars would shine on them when they climbed on the roof at night to watch them. She knew their love would be endless like the string of words of the countless books in the mansion's library was. The two of them had a long road ahead that nothing could block even when they were bound to returning to the manor no matter how far they'd managed to get during their latest car ride but it still felt like home when she was with him.

"Somehow that didn't sound too sincere," Valtor murmured when they parted even if the words weren't supported by the ecstatic beating of his heart under her palm. "I might need more convincing," he cupped her cheek, the softness of the touch begging to have more added to it and she couldn't refuse even if she'd wanted to. And she could never get mad at him just because he was looking for excuses to draw her into another kiss even if he didn't need them when she would give him all the love and all the tenderness he wanted. It was something she wanted to do with her life and nothing could make her doubt that no matter how many slippery slopes she had to climb to get to him.

Griffin leaned in again but she'd barely felt his lips against hers when Belladonna's voice made for a crack between them and shoved an entire replica of Antarctica in it forcing her to pull as far away from the cold as possible which left space between her and Valtor as well.

"If you're going to have sex tonight, at least do keep it down," she said, her voice even like it was gliding on a solid foundation of ice and not their private and intimate experiences but that couldn't phase Griffin anymore. "You make more noise than a gathering at the patio," Belladonna added her finishing touch of humiliation, the burning gold of her eyes scorching at Griffin's skin when she looked at her to let her know that one was directed exclusively towards her.

"I guess it's time to use that ball gag you bought for me," Griffin said as she turned her head towards Valtor but let her gaze seep towards her mother-in-law out of the corner of her eye. Hopefully, she'd drown in the lack of shame in it.

It had felt like she'd been engulfed in flames the first time she'd gotten reprimanded about her loudness by her witches-in-law which had coincidentally been about the wedding night since she and Valtor hadn't even gotten a proper honeymoon on pretext that it wasn't the season for holidays–as if there weren't a ton of places where it'd been sizzling hot at the time–and the manor needed to get acquainted with its new Mistress which wouldn't have been a problem if they'd let her move in before the wedding but they'd insisted that that wasn't possible since she wasn't an official part of the family yet. She'd felt like a criminal caught red-handed and it had left such a profound acrid taste in her mouth that she hadn't been able to eat until they'd forced her to because she needed to stay healthy.

She'd been throwing up most of the first week of her married life and had thrashed in bed in the midst of her nightmares–not just because of the severe meddling in their private affairs, but also because of the control they were trying to exercise over every aspect of her life while giving the illusion they were passing everything in her hands only to overwhelm her more with the care for the household and make her beg for their help–instead of sleeping serenely in Valtor's embrace. They'd both ended up sleep deprived and exhausted in the middle of the work week and she'd sworn she'd never let them get to her head like that again. She'd play their game if that was what they wanted and she was going to win it.

"It would seem so," Valtor said, his arm snaking around her waist to keep her close when that gave him not just courage, but safety. Quite literally since he'd admitted to her that they hadn't allowed themselves to be as cruel to him after they'd learned she was a part of the picture as they'd been before that. Probably because they didn't want her to know about the monstrosities they'd committed against him before that and she hated to think of his suffering so she didn't when she knew he didn't want to talk about it either. She would gladly listen if he wanted to talk, though. So far he hadn't but she was there for him if and when he decided to share. "If we can't soundproof the bedroom," Valtor noted and it was a clear accusation or at least retaliation despite how casually it was thrown out there. They'd raised him in their image, after all, and deserved their own venom spat in their faces so that it would leave his system and free him of itself when it could never be useful for anything except paralyzing him in its drops like an insect caught in amber.

"The mansion needs to remain authentic, Valtor," Lysslis said, her words far closer to a hiss than she normally allowed them to get. But it was no wonder considering how touchy a subject change was when applied to the manor.

Lysslis–and her sisters, too–were hellbent on keeping the house as it was which she was sure had nothing to do with the fact that all of the previous owners had only done the necessary construction work to preserve the visage of the building and had avoided altering it in any way. They were just using the pretext of that to keep the manor the soulless home that it was and keep all of its inhabitants trapped in that paradox. It was just their hunger for control and power masked as care which was their trademark but that didn't make it any less grotesque.

"And it would be much easier to put up with the noise if it were an occasional occurrence but you two insist on fucking like rabbits," Tharma said, not missing a chance to stab at their active sex life to kill it.

She seemed to have difficulty getting over that time she'd walked in on them having sex in Valtor's office but it was her own damn fault for not knocking and barging in like she owned the place when she never had, all the decisions she'd ever made for the company falling over it through the channel of Belladonna's temporary reign while Valtor still hadn't been of age. She'd been absolutely scandalized and Griffin suspected that it had something to do with the fact that Valtor would forfeit work to have carnal fun which just added to Tharma's incomprehension, she was sure, since the woman was the only one of the three sisters who had never been married, and she'd been furious that they'd put her in a position in which she didn't have the upper hand when she was so hopelessly lost.

"We've raised you to be a lion, Valtor," Belladonna said and Griffin was surprised by the precision of the comparison when Valtor was the alleged king of the world but it was the lionesses that had made him who knew how to hunt and set the rules of the game. He was nothing but an oversized kitten on a leash in his mother's lap. "The least you can do is make sure the company and the family name get their next heir if you insist on imitating street cats," Belladonna didn't let the opportunity to express her own disdain with their priorities slip through her fingers that could be nothing short of ice cold when that was what her heart was.

"Thank you, Sarah," Griffin took the time to show her gratefulness for having her flowers removed from the scene–especially when she saw how quick Sarah was to make her escape and it was completely understandable that she didn't want to get caught in the upcoming storm–because she was sure they wouldn't handle the intensity of the argument that was about to plow into them. And even if they could, she didn't want to stain them with the ugliness of her reality when they were meant to brighten the bedroom with their beauty and weave a fantasy of another life around her with their sweet scent. "Contraceptives do tend to prevent pregnancy," she said as she turned her gaze on Belladonna now that the bouquet wasn't threatened with withering away under her fierce attacks towards every part of Griffin's life when she tried to bend it to her will.

"Perhaps you should rethink taking them," Belladonna said and the wording was all wrong when it wasn't a suggestion. It was an order at best and a threat at worst and Griffin had learned enough by now to know that it didn't matter which option it was as she had to be scared of both and of the way one would inevitably turn into the other if she let it.

"Perhaps you should rethink whatever horrid idea just started forming in your head." She could practically hear the thoughts in Belladonna's mind moving slowly but surely like an iceberg waiting to sink her tiny boat when it broke it in pieces upon collision. "If you switch out my pills and get me pregnant without my consent, I swear to you you won't see even the outside of this house ever again and I won't give a single fuck about the goddamn contract," Griffin spat out, clutching tightly at Valtor as all she had left to do was pray that she'd made herself clear enough, pray that she'd scared the monsters because she didn't know of another weak place of theirs that she could hit and it would be the end of her if she'd failed.

"Well, if that child has your character, it will at least be worth the wait," Belladonna said, letting her know she'd won the fight and she could breathe freely. For now. Hopefully, even until she herself decided to go through giving birth. "Not so much if it's like Valtor who never dared stand up to us."

She looked at him as if her words weren't piercing deep enough and she needed to hammer them in his heart through his eyes so that she could break them, too, and make him unable to see anything beautiful in the world ever again. She was just being a fucking bitch now since she knew damn well they'd abused him into obedience every time he'd tried to exhibit something else and Griffin would gladly remind her that but Valtor's grip tightening on her waist stopped her.

"Argulus and I did strike the deal, mother," Valtor said, his voice firm as if his eyes weren't trying to bleed tears when Belladonna's words had cut deep into his soul. He still cared about her approval which was masochistic and practically suicidal when he would never get anything but freezing water on his enthusiasm about any activity of his that just made it sizzle out and the steam carried away a part of his soul with it. It was painful to watch the best proof that Belladonna did not love him, did not know what love was at all, since she could see what she was doing to him and there was no reaction from her.

Not a normal one at least since she observed him like he was an experiment and she was waiting to see how long he'd need to crack under the crushing lack of praise from her.

Now that she was married to him, Griffin was a guinea pig, too, serving as a test subject to see how much you could break someone by torturing the love of their life, the only thing holding her in place was Valtor's arm around her when she knew she was his support just like he was hers. She could help with his burden and he could help with hers when they chose to carry them together and didn't do it because they were forced to.

"Excellent," Tharma said, the word like a whiplash echoing around them when it was so out of place. "Then all of your wife's work won't have to go to the garbage," she said, making Griffin nauseous even though she was used to the irresponsible waste of resources that the manor was a home to.

She had absolutely no doubt that they would've thrown out the dinner they had her cooking all day in the case of failure to punish both Valtor and her and then would've nagged at them about the meat they'd had to sacrifice when hunt was becoming harder throughout the years. Yet, they always came back proud of the murders that never dwindled in number just like they only used their old age when it was in their interest.

"He and his wife will be coming to dinner tomorrow evening," Valtor ignored the remark when it couldn't possibly ruin his mood more than it had already been but his words made Griffin's head snap towards him.

"Valtor, Faragonda and Hagen are coming tomorrow," she reminded gently as she didn't mean to scold him even if she felt near tears herself. There was no way she'd be allowed to have her "unrefined" friends over when there was a semi-business dinner going on and so instead of having people she loved over she would have to stand the company of another rich-and-proud-of-it couple in her home which she was used to by now as there was someone over for dinner at least twice a week but in this particular instance she was even less thrilled about the company.

"I'm sorry, Griffin," Valtor said as he looked at her, the ice of his eyes begging for her forgiveness which she would've granted far easier if she weren't struck in place by the lightning bolt that the realization that her gardenias were an apology and not a romantic gesture was. "You know Argulus insists on sealing the deal with a dinner and they'll be out of town for the next two weeks."

Of course, they would be. Bloom was probably flying to cloud nine at the idea of another expensive vacation. Or rather was carried there by Argulus who was a slave to her every whim which was the least he could do after taking her away from her family and changing her until she wasn't herself anymore. Though, it was arguable how much you could be changed without your own agreement and that had left Vanessa and Mike blaming themselves for not giving her a better life, for not giving her the life that Marion and Oritel would have sponsored had they been alive to raise their own daughter.

Griffin was sure they were turning in their graves thanks to the spoiled brat Bloom had become after she'd met Argulus who'd revealed her origins to her and had made her pursue the family fortune until she'd finally taken her claim over it just a month after the two had gotten married which was a bit of a coincidence too suspicious to be one to everyone with half a brain but, unfortunately, one half of Bloom's had been full of her newly found funds and the other one of her husband so that hadn't registered. And while that was a good enough excuse in that particular instance, it did nothing to justify the fact she'd stopped visiting Daphne at the hospital and had left Mike and Vanessa help her fight through the coma she'd been sent in by a reckless motorcyclist that had hit her on her way out of Argulus' office after a fight with him about her sister.

Griffin couldn't believe that was the same girl she'd held in her arms when she'd still been a teenager herself but Marion had trusted her enough to let her hold her baby. The future had seemed so bright before the coordinated attack meant to take out the entire family that had left the two girls orphans instead but at least they'd found their way to a loving home only for Bloom to turn away from that because of that vulture that her husband was.

The only thing that had Griffin keeping her mouth shut was that she'd only met Valtor through his connection to Argulus and her connection to Bloom. That and the fact that she didn't want to upset Mike and Vanessa who would inevitably hear Bloom's complaints were Griffin to say anything which left her begrudgingly accepting that she had to go through that dinner the next evening. Really, the only worst thing would have been having to stand Diaspro and all of her greatness now that she was doing whatever she wanted with all of Erendor and Samara's fortune after Bloom left Sky and he was led right back into the trap of Diaspro's arms around his neck.

"This can't wait," Valtor said, his voice quiet but it was the apologetic tone that pricked her all over like it was trying to see where she'd bleed from first. He was terrified of her reaction when the memories of his mothers' outbursts were playing in his mind and she hated the fact that she'd given him a reason to make the connection when she herself had quite the temper and enough pettiness to go for revenge instead of resolving the conflict.

"You'll just have to cancel your appointment, honey," Lysslis said, staining yet another pet name with her venom. She knew damn well Griffin would never be able to stand Valtor calling her any of the ones she'd used. And she'd used them all. She'd made sure there wasn't something special that only he would call her and he'd have to resort to her name which everyone else used as well. Lysslis thought she could diminish their bond like that but her name would always sound differently coming from Valtor's mouth when all of his love for her was woven in it. None of his mothers could ever sully that.

"We'll have to plan the menu so the help can get to it right away tomorrow morning," Tharma said to remind her that her cooking was good enough for her common-folk friends and even the three Mistresses of the Ancestral Manor were resigning to it to fulfill her wishes but her meals weren't refined enough for their high society guests. And after she'd spent all day cooking their requested dinner. It was crossing the line which would mean something if there were any lines for the three of them.

"Let me play you something, Griffin," Valtor caught her hand and held all of her anger as if it was his doing and his responsibility. His eyes were begging her forgiveness and she couldn't take that away from him when they'd already taken everything from both of them. It wasn't his fault her plans were abolished yet again. She'd known that business always came first even when he didn't want it to and he just wanted to make things right for her which she appreciated but didn't want to burden the notes with his guilt which would undoubtedly warp the melody.

"I would love to hear anything you have for me," Griffin made sure to emphasize the last word and was happy to see it reached his heart and he read into it, his shoulders falling out of the stiff embrace of the stress that had been wrapped around them to leave him able to play the piano with all of his skill and that was an ocean she could float in forever.

They headed towards the living room, still entangled as they were when they pushed past his mothers who, surprisingly, did not try to object but followed them there. Of course, they wouldn't let them have a private moment anywhere outside their own bedroom even when they had to plan the dinner the following evening.

Belladonna looked at her as she was settling down next to her sisters to tell her what she'd heard many times echoing in her head after the woman's gaze shouted it inside her brain. You chose to be the next wife of the Ancestral Manor.

But she hadn't. She'd only ever wanted to be Valtor's hence why she was next to him on the bench in front of the piano even if she had no business there since business had nothing to do with their relationship much to her mothers-in-law's chagrin. And if letting the manor and the three witches that controlled it claim as much of her time as they could get their claws into was the only way to spend the rest of her life with him, then she was ready to pay the price. Because she didn't even want to try to imagine a life without him. She could do it, she knew. But it wouldn't be real. It wouldn't be a life. Just existence.

She laid her head down on Valtor's shoulder knowing that he wouldn't mind. And nobody was asking his mothers, the sounds of the piano shutting them up when even they didn't allow themselves to interrupt art when it was engraved all over the manor and was practically a part of it. And their love was the purest form of art as they kept weaving it together despite all the sharpness in its way as the melody proved when it filled the emptiness of the mansion around them and drowned out any scorn coming from his mothers to let them grow together despite all attempts of his mothers to turn them into something they weren't. They were in love and that was their home.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Lysslis, doing a crossowrd: I need a six-letter word for disappointment.

Belladonna and Tharma: Valtor.

Valtor: ...

Lysslis: It fits.

[trashcankitty12]

Valtor: (walking into a meeting with his mothers, harpy!Griffin at his side)

Belladonna: Valtor. There's a rule about pets in the meeting room.

Lysslis: *frowning* that's right. If we don't bring ours, you can't bring yours.

Griffin: *about to bring out her talons when Valtor takes her hand*

Valtor: Griffin is my emotional support harpy, and given the circumstances around this meeting, I'm going to need her.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Since you asked, I'm all too happy to oblige and send you a few more since these have been amazing! (Feel free to ignore it if I managed to pick a number you've done already xd) But 3, 25, and 26 :)

I feel like this took forever to write (even though it obviously didn’t) but anyway, enjoy all the words since I went way overboard with these.

3 – final

All the times they had met on the battlefield had had her terrified that it would be the last one, the final time she saw his face. Even their last kiss or last embrace hadn’t left her so paralyzed with fear. Maybe because she’d known what they’d been, for she’d planned her escape. But the uncertainty of every battle left her shaken with the question when one of them would die, putting an end to the messy affair between them. And that was the last thing she’d wanted. For she’d never wanted to leave him in the first place.

The final time she’d seen him, which had only become clear in retrospect, had hurt with the fact that she knew it wasn’t final. They were both still alive. He was trapped in the ice but he was alive. And it couldn’t end like that. A story like theirs could never end like that. She knew in her heart that he’d be back. The final time she saw him couldn’t be in her memories or dreams.

Seventeen years and it still hurt to see him. The pain hadn’t changed just like he was exactly the same as she remembered him. Full of rage and out to get her. She couldn’t escape from his wrath even if she wanted to. She’d left him once and he wouldn’t let her do it again. And as she lost consciousness from his attack, she knew that wasn’t the last time she’d see his face, for he wouldn’t kill her.

“My face will be the final thing you’ll ever see.”

The words rang in her head long after she’d been freed from her cell and he was dead. He hadn’t been wrong. She still saw his face. And that would be the case until the very end. Their story had been interrupted before it could reach its final form and it would never leave her alone. It was never finished, and he might have taken his final breath, but her love for him hadn’t perished yet. And no end was in sight until then.

25 – return

The book lay abandoned on the couch–open no less like she never left them because it hurt their spines–as she paced around the room waiting for his return. He was late and she couldn’t concentrate on reading when she felt the heaviness in the pit of her stomach and her heart racing to compensate for the slow movements of the hands of the clock. Something must have gone wrong. He could be in trouble and she could do nothing because his mothers hadn’t let her go with him. She wasn’t even told where he’d been sent, otherwise, she would’ve been there already. But the Ancestral Witches had been separating them a lot lately, claiming it was not necessary to have both members of their strongest team exhausting their energy for a job that could be done by just one of them. And so far their tactic of utilizing their resources had been working but Griffin knew something was bound to go wrong at some point. And she’d dreaded the moment, hoping they’d realize that Valtor and her were better off having each other’s backs since that reduced the risk of injuries and failures. But they’d kept it up and now…. she hoped it wasn’t too late to fix the mistake.

It was a little more than half an hour after his estimated time of return that she felt the enormous whirl of magic accompanying the opening of a portal. It was in the other end of their base and bursting chaotically with no sense of direction. He hadn’t been in the proper mindset to concentrate on a precise location and the magic had spat him out at a random place.

She let her own magic seek out his and whisk her away to him and she was soon teleporting herself. She ended up in one of the smaller corridors of their base, somewhere she didn’t go often but she didn’t have time to think about that.

Valtor was standing in front of her, doing his best not to fall over as he held his ribcage with one hand, his other arm limp at his side and sporting a cut that, thankfully, wasn’t deep. It was just a surface wound unlike the injury to his chest. By the expression on his face that was all bruised and swelling she could tell he was in a lot of pain. More than when he had a cracked rib. He had at least one broken rib, possible internal bleeding and multiple smaller injuries over his entire body. His clothes were dirty and ripped as he’d probably been tackled to the ground where he’d struggled with his opponent. Or, more likely, opponents. She doubted one person could beat him up that badly.

She approached him slowly, resisting the impulse to throw herself at him, for he could barely support his own weight currently. Her quiet steps could do nothing to drown out the sound of his harsh, ragged breaths and it pained her to see him like that, gathering himself and all the strength he had left in order to just move through the base. The battle and the following use of his magic to open the portal must have drained him completely.

It took him some time to raise his head and he only noticed her when she was making her final step and stopped in front of him. He didn’t even look her in the eyes before the arm hanging at his side wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. He drew in a hissing breath through his teeth at the motion, the cut on his bicep probably burning, but he held on to her, pressing against her body despite his injuries.

She wrapped her arms around his neck since that was pretty much the only affection she could provide without irritating any of his injuries and hurting him more. She was torn because she wanted nothing more than to offer him comfort but he needed to have his injuries checked. Every second they wasted could be vital.

She pulled away to tell him all of that but the words died in her throat when she caught his eye. He was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time, with so much relief in his eyes that it had her weak in the knees, her hands shaking as she reached for his face.

“Valtor,” her voice was shaking as well and her eyes filled with tears when she touched his skin, cupping his cheeks gently. She had to reassure him that she was there and she was real, that he was at home, in her arms, and the only way to do that was to touch him. Even if it made him wince. It was better than the thoughts that had been running through his head, better than the pain of thinking he would never see her again. Shivers ran down her spine at the realization how bad it had been.

He ran a hand through her hair before pulling her into a kiss, his lips parting hers and his breath filling her lungs finally had her breathing. He was alive. He was safe. He’d come back to her. And that was all that mattered in the world.

“Valtor,” Belladonna’s bark was like a whiplash making them jump apart, Griffin’s insides freezing. She was standing at the other end of the corridor and yet, the chill of her presence could be felt from all the way across it. And she wasn’t even alone. Tharma and Lysslis were standing at her sides like they always were and they all looked furious. “You were supposed to come to us and report about the mission.” Frost started creeping up the floor and walls towards the two of them, making the temperature in the closed space drop quickly and significantly. Griffin was shaking again but not just from terror this time and she instinctively reached for Valtor for support even though he probably needed that more than she did.

“That’s where I was headed, mother,” Valtor’s voice was steady but still respectfully quiet and his head was bowed down as he avoided eye contact, adopting submissive attitude. He didn’t let go of her hand, though.

“And it took you forty minutes?” Belladonna asked even though she was well aware he was just coming in. If Griffin had felt the portal, there was no way the Ancestral Witches hadn’t. They just wanted to force him to admit his failure so that they could lash out at him. She’d seen them do it before. And she knew what would follow. She couldn’t let it happen. “Report. Now,” Belladonna’s tone got sharper, deadlier as the frost kept making its way through the corridor and was now close enough to bite at both of them as soon as the news of the mission left his mouth.

“He needs to go to the infirmary first, Mistress Belladonna,” Griffin cut in, keeping her head down to avoid challenging them any further than was strictly necessary and keep her courage. She was still shaking on the inside and wasn’t exactly sure how much of that was visible on the outside as well. “If there’s internal bleeding, every second could be essential.” She dared a quick glance at the direction of the ancient witches and that was enough to have her swallowing, her voice dying in her throat. If they required a reply from her now, she wouldn’t be able to give it and that would get her a punishment as well.

“But he found the time to get all romantic with you,” Tharma said, her voice seemingly controlled but the rage was burning in it steadily and insidiously and it was a good thing Griffin couldn’t talk currently because anything she said would be the wrong answer.

“Is that what you’re doing now?” Lysslis spoke, her words full of cold, soulless curiosity that was like a knife poking at their open wounds and cutting through every nerve in its way. “You’re letting her fight your battles?” The way Lysslis referred to her crushed every last bit of hope Griffin had that she and Valtor could reason with them. They’d been praising her for her strategies when she’d first joined them and won them some huge victories. But lately all she did was get frowned upon. Especially if it concerned Valtor in any way. “You can’t speak for yourself and you can’t complete missions on your own. Are you co-dependent on her now?”

“That’s not-”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Belladonna’s voice was loud enough to break the ice crust covering the corridor in pieces as she interrupted him. “She speaks out of turn to us and you come back empty-handed. The answer is crystal clear.” The cold flushed over them, making their muscles shake so hard it was impossible to keep holding hands and their teeth chattering which she was sure the Ancestral Witches could still count as disrespect and punish them for that, too. “That partnership was bad for you.”

“We’re your most successful team,” Valtor argued, looking her in the eyes, heat pulsing out of him and warming Griffin up enough to have her muscles relax. Steam filled the corridor as the frost melted off. “We’re unstoppable together.”

“You still need to be able to function as an independent asset.” Belladonna snarled, more frost creeping their way. It couldn’t reach them with the heat coming off of Valtor but that was because she wasn’t trying to reach them. She wasn’t controlling the process. It was happening subconsciously. “Yet, all we’ve gotten is proof of the opposite.”

“My mission failed because the Company of Light had sent word the king to warn him of my attack and the guard was five times what I expected.” Of course it had. The Ancestral Witches didn’t let her plan much anymore, leaving their fingerprints all over everything they touched and giving away their plans to the Company. They were a force to be reckoned with but they lacked any subtlety in their planning, relying on brute force instead of stealth and that could cost much. It’d almost cost everything today and they still hadn’t realized it. Even the might of Valtor’s Dragon Fire wasn’t enough against too many opponents. “I still defeated them all and managed to escape.” If they’d captured him… Griffin didn’t even dare think of that. The Council had no mercy against any random dark magic user that was caught doing anything they considered wrong. There was no telling what they would’ve done to him.

“You still came back empty-handed,” Tharma stepped in, the wind swirling around her feet and destroying Belladonna’s frost, making small pieces of it start spinning in the air. If they’d been any thicker, they would’ve been dangerous like glass shards. “And you dare talk back to us?” Electricity crackled around her and a lightning aimed at Valtor left her form.

“No,” Griffin summoned a magical shield that stopped the attack from reaching its aim. Valtor’s hand was immediately on her hip, squeezing warningly to snap her out of it. She couldn’t oppose them like that and she knew it. But she couldn’t let them torture him either. “If you attack him now, it will take him more time to heal and go back on the battlefield,” she tried to be logical about it which had about fifty percent chance of just angering them more.

And it looked like that was the case with Tharma who was seething, more electricity crackling around her, but she still waited for Belladonna to react first. It was Lysslis who spoke instead.

“So you’re just thinking about the Coven?” she asked, her voice soothing, lulling you into false security as she slithered in front of her sisters and ever closer. “Our little strategist,” the words finished in a resentful hiss.

Griffin knew better than to open her mouth. She just stood still, looking at Lysslis’ general direction but not into her eyes. She wasn’t suicidal.

“Very well then,” Lysslis’ praise was like a slap in the face but she stood her ground as the ancient witch stopped in front of her. “We have a mission just for you. And you’ll either come back victorious or you’d wish to never have come back at all,” the threat was quiet but impossible to miss. Especially with Lysslis’ magic plunging her directly into an illusion, making the feeling of Valtor’s touch disappear.

She was wrapped into darkness, unable to hear or see anything, before a flash of white searing agony sliced through her mind and she couldn’t even feel herself react. She could’ve screamed or fell to her knees but all her brain registered was the pain and nothing else.

“You’ll bring us what we want no matter how much blood you have to spill,” Lysslis’ voice reached her, making her misery worse. That was a part of the problem. She was trying to leave as few victims behind as possible. It was better from a strategical point of view but they were taking it as misplaced mercy. Though, any mercy would be misplaced by their standards. Even when bloodshed clearly wasn’t the answer. “Otherwise, I will personally pull your mind apart piece… by… piece…” every word echoed in her head, bouncing off the corners of her consciousness, hitting it with brutal force and leaving bruises behind.

The illusion ended as abruptly as it had begun and left her out of breath, the memories of terror and suffering fresh in her head, but at least she could feel Valtor’s hand on her again. It seemed like she hadn’t had any external reactions, for he hadn’t tried to pull her out of it. Or maybe he was just being cautious, playing along with their reign of terror. It was possible that he just didn’t have enough strength for anything left, too.

“Get him to the infirmary and then come find us to receive information about the mission,” Belladonna’s voice cut through her but she was grateful for it also cutting them lose from that confrontation. It was over.

She wrapped an arm around Valtor’s waist, relieved that it didn’t cause him pain or even discomfort, and opened another portal. He probably wouldn’t have enough strength to even walk the short distance to the infirmary. And even if he did, she had no desire to go past the Ancestral Witches who were blocking the corridor. So she focused on the map of the base in her mind and helped him into the portal, letting her anger at his mothers feed her magic. She’d finally recognized their current location. It was in the part of the base that the Ancestral Witches had to themselves and he’d been going to them to report about his mission despite the seriousness of his current state. If his return hadn’t drawn her to him, they would’ve hurt him even worse than his mission.

26 – protection

This is a continuation of the storyline from the previous prompt.

Griffin stood in front of the door she’d pushed open so many times with her hand rested over the handle and her pulse pounding in her ears. She couldn’t understand her own hesitation. Over the last couple of weeks she’d only lived with the thought of that moment and now that it had arrived after countless sleepless nights and wrecking her brain without rest in order to complete one of the hardest–and most brutal–missions in her life, it was finally here and she couldn’t make herself open the door that would lead her home.

She shook her head and exhaled slowly to collect herself and banish all worries from her mind. The worst was behind her. She could breathe now. And she could see him.

She pushed the door open and walked in, her eyes immediately finding him. He was on the bed, resting, and just that sight made everything she’d been through worth it. His face had gone back to normal, all of the bruises gone, leaving just the familiar features. She couldn’t quite tell about his ribs even though they had to be almost healed by now as well.

“You shouldn’t have tried to protect me back then,” he said, halting her step and leaving her wounded in the middle of the room. After all these weeks they’d spent apart, that was the first thing he had to tell her? Something that would keep her away before she’d even managed to kiss or touch him. “You put yourself in danger.”

She stood in her place, holding his gaze. She’d done the only thing she could’ve lived with in that situation. He could reprimand her all he wanted, she wasn’t going to apologize for caring about him.

“You know the real reason why they keep us separated isn’t saving resources,” he said in a softer tone this time and extended an arm to her which she quickly took, the warmth of his skin entering her veins and spreading inside her to chase away the memories of how awful the weeks without him had been. “It’s because you don’t sleep in your own bed anymore.” Well, they’d made sure she’d have to when they’d forbidden her to see him. Not that she’d had any time to, planning carefully and doing other missions to get the Company off the trail of what she was actually after. “It’s because I laugh more.” The admission made her smile and she tried not to think about how his weeks of recovery had gone. At least his mothers had been focusing on her which must have kept them mostly off his back for the time being. “It’s because we fell in love.”

Her eyes filled with tears against her will and she leaned in to kiss him and as their lips met and the teardrops falling from her closed eyes left cool tracks on her cheeks, she was washed over with relief. She was finally back in his arms and they were unstoppable together. So she hated it when he pulled away.

“I heard your mission went well and you came back with everything they wanted,” he said as he cupped her cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding hers and she leaned into the touch, closing her eyes to enjoy it. “That’s good considering your behavior after my failed mission didn’t do you any good.”

Her eyes snapped open and she was ready to protest but he didn’t give her the chance.

“You stated that you were loyal to me and not to them loudly and clearly,” he raised his voice a little, startling her. He usually didn’t do that. “And that can be good as long as I am loyal to them but you’re still unpredictable enough to be a problem.” She would normally smile since that was something she prided herself on. It was what being a witch meant. But his expression made the heaviness in her chest return. “There are two ways this can go from here. Either they’ll put us back together as a team or…” his hand dropped from her cheek as his gaze left hers.

“Or what?” Griffin asked, her voice cold and harsh as she squeezed on his hand to draw his attention back to herself. She wanted to hear it. She wanted to be certain what awaited her if the Ancestral Witches deemed her more harmful than useful.

“Or they’ll kill you,” Valtor said, his voice quiet, causing her hand to get pulled out of his as her arm fell limply at her side. “Which is why I want you to be ready to leave,” he continued as he grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly to make sure she was listening. She was. She just couldn’t comprehend what she was hearing.

“Leave?” she hissed as she grabbed at his forearms, holding on for dear life. “How am I supposed to leave? They control this place. If I try to open a portal, they can just close it and I won’t be able to do anything.” Her magic wasn’t strong enough to defeat theirs. Not to mention that she didn’t want to go anywhere where he wouldn’t be. She couldn’t leave him behind. That was out of the question.

“Fairy dust can open a portal that they won’t be able to close,” Valtor said, his voice frantic and his words an absolute madness.

“Where am I supposed to get fairy dust?” Griffin cried, gripping at him tighter. It was madness. All of it. It was madness that they had to go through that because they were in love and his mothers were afraid of that. And it was madness that he wanted to send her away. How was that supposed to work out? She’d be alive but without him she wouldn’t be living. She couldn’t leave him.

“I’m certain you can find one fairy,” he held her gaze adamantly as if trying to communicate the answer to her through telepathy. Faragonda. He wanted her to reach out to Faragonda. It was a genius plan. The fairy would help her even after everything she’d done and she could count on her protection no matter what it was that she had to face. But that would mean never being with him again. “Please, Griffin,” Valtor said as if he’d read the thoughts in her head. “I need to know you’ll be safe.” His hands cupped her cheeks and she covered them with hers, soaking up the feeling of his skin on hers. It was possible she wouldn’t get to feel much more of it.

“Okay,” she nodded, tears spilling from her eyes again. But the ache in her chest was better than the thought of how much he’d hurt if he had to watch her die. He was not only willing to let her go to ensure her safety but he was also telling her to get in contact with Faragonda. It couldn’t have been easy on him and she didn’t want to make it any harder. But she still held hope that none of that would be necessary as she pulled him into a kiss.

[darkpoisonouslove]

“How Your Tears Seal Your Fate”

Summary: Tears don’t keep demons away. They just draw them in. Griffin learns that when she tries to escape from the man she fell in love with. She’d never thought of him as a Prince Charming but the truth about him that her tears reveal to her leaves her speechless. Set in a canon divergence in which the Ancestral Witches captured Griffin when she tried to escape from the Coven.

This was inspired by the concept of fairytales but veered a little off course, though, I’d say it still has enough magic going on! XD

It had been magical. She’d felt so safe in his arms. Every touch, every kiss had only drawn her in deeper and deeper. And the first “I love you” she’d heard from his lips had brought tears of joy to her eyes. But something had held them back from falling.

Then she’d realized it was all about magic. She’d fallen for someone who was after power and would toss her heart aside in a heartbeat if he had to choose between the two. He didn’t even draw a line at wiping away countless innocent people. Surely he wouldn't stop to spare her heart. If her magic failed, she’d crash into the ground, her bones cracking painfully just like the tears of agony splattered against the floor when she’d realized he wouldn't catch her. He had his hands full with the power he was stealing to destroy the world.

She’d tried to run away but her own magic was insignificant against that of his mothers. Really, she was no match for them separately. Belladonna could easily freeze her in place to be an ice decoration for their home base forever. Lysslis could trap her in an illusion she’d never find her way out of. Tharma could fry her nerves so badly that she’d never be able to feel anything again. But none of that seemed to be part of their plan. It wasn’t good enough for them. She’d betrayed them and now she had to pay.

She’d thought they’d lead her to the dungeons but they took the stairs to the upper floors instead, making her stomach drop. It meant they had something far worse in mind for her rather than just turning her into a prisoner before torturing and executing her. And she could do nothing against all three of them with Lysslis and Tharma at her sides, clutching at her arms hard enough to leave bruises, and Belladonna walking behind her, causing chills to run down her spine with her mere presence.

The dread that had filled her only exacerbated when she recognized the floor they were on. She’d been too busy overthinking her situation while they’d ascended the stairs but now it was starting to dawn on her what they’d do to her.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, the question so embarrassing and pathetic but she needed an answer. She couldn’t wait for them to get her there. She needed to know, needed to prepare herself. Though, she wasn’t sure anything she could do in her position would make her feel more prepared. Or prepared at all for that matter.

Lysslis looked at her for a moment before leaning in, practically shoving her face into Griffin’s, and all of that while they never stopped walking. “I think you know,” she said, confirming Griffin’s suspicions without actually answering her question, making her feel even more stupid for asking. Of course that was where they were leading her. And of course she’d known. But she’d hoped... how foolish was that when she knew what kind of monsters they were? How could she have hoped that they’d just kill her without paying her back tenfold for her betrayal?

“You haven’t belonged to the Coven for a long time now,” Belladonna said behind her, the words like an icicle stabbing her in the back. “You were only here for him,” the ancient witch’s hand tangled in her hair and a few of the hairs froze under her touch, the cold stinging at Griffin’s scalp at their roots before Belladonna tore them off, not allowing the frost to spread further. “You are his burden,” she hissed in her ear and Griffin’s eyes filled with tears. They didn’t even look at her as a person. She was just a possession that was creating problems and had to be destroyed. And she wasn’t even worth their time and effort so they were pawning her off on him. He would do their dirty work for them–and with pleasure no less–like he always had.

“That’s why we’re taking you to him so that he can punish you,” Tharma cackled–to rub it in since that had become apparent with Belladonna’s words–as she dragged a nail over Griffin’s cheek. It sank into the skin but not deep enough to draw blood. It just left a scratch behind that didn’t even hurt compared to the flesh on her arm under Tharma’s palm that was struck by an electrical charge. It fried her nerves but the tears had already started falling from her eyes. It could hardly get worse.

She just lowered her head, counting on her hair to fall in the way and conceal her face. Not that that would hide her crying from them. But maybe it would hide it from him. She hoped so–foolishly–as they reached his door.

“Say hello to the one you love so much that you betrayed him,” Belladonna said, her hands on Griffin’s shoulders chilling her to the bone, as Tharma let go of her and threw the door open with her magic. The touch at her other arm disappeared as well–though, not before Lysslis’ magic clawed at her mind, pulling her emotions apart and all over the place and making them even harder to control–which allowed Belladonna to push her into the room.

She stumbled and fell to her knees, wincing when they scraped against the floor. The door closed behind her, trapping her into the space she’d come to think of as home, but she tried to focus on keeping her head low and getting a hold of her emotions which the physical pain only intensified even more. She had to choke down the urge to rub at the place Tharma had electrocuted. She couldn’t show she was hurt. Her tears and wayward emotions already made her too vulnerable. She couldn’t show her pain and fear, too.

Valtor’s legs came into view. She’d made conscious effort to avoid any and all reminders of his presence around the room, and most of all she’d tried to ignore the sight of him. She didn’t want to see him. She couldn’t see him. Not after what had happened. She couldn’t see the hurt in his eyes that was hidden just under the rage. Or worse – the lack of it. She would die. So she didn’t look up. And standing up was definitely not an option.

“You were never one to stay on your knees,” Valtor said, his voice even, controlled – her worst nightmare. If she didn’t want to move before, now she couldn’t. She was frozen in place. “Griffin,” her name sounded heavenly coming from his lips still because he knew her, he’d always seen her for who she was, “look at me,” he urged softly but she refused to do his bidding. If he wanted to make her do something he’d have to drag her there kicking and screaming. Maybe her defiance would anger him and bring forth his true feelings, not this parade of falsity. “Look at me,” he urged again as his hand grasped at her chin and he tipped her head backwards, his gaze meeting hers.

There was nothing in it to tell her what awaited her. All she knew was that it wouldn't be good. But how horrible would he get? As much as she’d hurt him or more?

“Who are those tears for, hm?” He ran his free hand over her cheek–the one without the wound from Tharma that stung every time the salty drops fell into it–and wiped away her tears. “For you?” He took away his touch so abruptly that it would’ve made her weep if she wasn’t already. “For me?” He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked the tears off of them. “For the Company?” His grip on her chin remained just as gentle at the mention of his sworn enemies, effectively punching her in the gut. It meant he was putting her right there with them. She was as good as dead to him now.

Still, she stayed silent, eyes trained on his face no matter how much she wanted to cut her gaze from his. But she couldn’t admit he was hurting her when he wouldn't admit she’d hurt him. Even if her tears kept flowing. At least the teardrops were all over her glasses making it harder to see through them.

“I know you always hated showing weakness, hated showing your tears,” Valtor said as he let go of her chin and took off her glasses, folding the temples and employing his magic to transport them to his desk, leaving her face bare and open. “But I think you’ve never been quite as beautiful as you are with a tear-stricken face,” he moved away the hair that fell in her face when she lowered her head again but at least he didn’t force her to look at him this time. “And I’ll make sure you’re always crying for me.”

The words hit so hard, depriving her of her free will as if she existed just for him. And she had but he’d made her want to escape from that reality. Because he didn’t love her enough for that kind of devotion on her part. He didn’t love her enough for her to turn a blind eye on all the blood and tears he spilled from the innocent people. She would’ve been crying if she’d stayed as well but over her own slain conscience. Now at least she got to keep that.

“You wanted to betray me so now you’ll weep over my victory instead of being triumphant by my side.” He ran his hand through her hair, stroking it in a vicious mockery. He’d stroked it like that to calm her down from the terror of nearly dying at the hands of the Company of Light. But this time death would be preferable to what he had in mind. Even if she wasn’t quite sure what that was. “And if you decide you can deny me your tears, I will take them from your eyes,” the threat bounced off of the gentleness of his touch so well before his hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head back roughly, holding her firmly in place where he wanted her. A vial appeared in his other hand and he started collecting her tears in it.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shaking and, normally, she’d hate herself but now it only increased the chance of him answering as her wariness most certainly satisfied him.

“I can’t let perfect material go to waste.”

Material? For what?

“They are charged with so much negative energy that I can use them to power countless dark spells,” Valtor said as he kept dragging the cold glass over her skin, pressing harder than necessary which only drew more tears from her thanks to the sensitivity induced by Lysslis’ spell. “I can feel over fifty-six nuances in them, at least.” That was why he’d licked them off his skin. He’d been studying them. “But who knows, maybe I’ve missed something.” He stopped his meticulous work to focus his attention on her. “Turns out I didn’t know you as well as I thought.”

Now of all times. Now he chose to be hurt. Now he decided to play the victim. When her nerves couldn’t take much more of anything, and neither could her heart. It was just cruel. And he was doing it for more power. She tried to keep that in mind and stop the tears, stop giving him exactly what he was after. She’d already given him every piece of her and it still hadn’t been enough. He deserved nothing more.

“None of that matters, though,” he said with such casual dismissal that he got a reaction out of her before she could stop herself. Still, she didn’t get to do much, for he pulled her back down to her knees by her hair, reminding her that she would be in pain no matter what she wanted. “You will give me the power to do what I want,” he said as he made sure to hold her gaze, not anywhere near impressed with her defiant glare. “I will drown the world in your tears,” he raised the vial to look at it with a most pleased expression, rewarding her with the unhappiest of endings as he let go of her hair. And really, she should’ve known.

There were stories in which tears could cure and had recreational powers. But those were ones full of light magic and love. There’d never been a fairytale for a witch. And now, thanks to her, there wouldn't be any more happy endings. For anyone.

[darkpoisonouslove]

I really love your stories! I was wondering what it was like for Griffin to see Darcy for the first time after giving her up when she first came to the school and if she ever gave her even the tiniest bit of special treatment

I'm so happy to hear that!

For Griffin it was a mix of pain and relief to see Darcy. She instantly knew Darcy was her daughter and with that came the instant urge to learn everything about her so that she can finally have some information about her daughter that would ease the guilt of giving her away. Most of the people Griffin is connected to have lost their parents in one way or another - either because of death or because their parents abandoned them. So Griffin has seen what that does to people and has felt it herself when her own parents died. She can only imagine what it would be like to have never had any parents. I have toyed with the idea of Darcy being adopted but for the sake of plot I think it will be better if she never was. In my version Darcy's magic came in way too early and because she couldn't really control it, it was hard to be around her. She was constantly giving people headaches and panic attacks without even meaning to so...

However, Griffin thought about telling Darcy the truth for two minutes before deciding against it. Darcy's ancestry has to remain a secret for her to be safe. Especially now that Griffin knows Darcy is a descendant of the Ancestral Witches. If it comes out that she's her daughter, it won't be hard for the Council to connect the dots when it comes to the identity of Darcy's father, and that would put her at the front and center of their focus. Which is bad because it would increase the risk of her getting found out as a descendant of Lysslis (the Winx Wiki disagrees on the spelling but I don't care) significantly. And Griffin could ask Darcy to keep it a secret if she tells her the truth but if Darcy gets upset - and there's a high probability of that - the wrong people might learn what's going on as well. So she doesn't dare tell her. Not least of all because she's afraid of Darcy's reaction.

It's painful to her and she knows that if Darcy learns, it will be painful for her as well. So she prefers to be the one to suffer in silence. Darcy seems to be doing okay in the company of Icy and Stormy even if they're prone to getting in trouble. I imagine Griffin tried hard not to give Darcy any special treatment because it could give away her motives but some things still slipped through the cracks. However, I think that Darcy was the only one to notice because Griffin was treating Icy and Stormy almost the same. The reason for the attention she paid them was mostly to make sure they wouldn't catch the eye of the Council if they stir too much trouble. It was quite similar to the way Faragonda treats Winx. But Darcy could tell there was a barely noticeable difference between Griffin's treatment of her and of Stormy and Icy. It's what made her consider the possibility of Griffin being her mother.

[darkpoisonouslove]

SotLK (Bulgarian)

I'm watching SotLK in Bulgarian, translated directly from the original Italian movie, and OH. MY. GOD! It makes all the difference!

The Winx girls' voices aren't great BUT Hagen's voice actor saves his entire character! He doesn't overdramatize with the intonation and the scene where Hagen tells Bloom he can't track down Oritel's sword is handled much better. He is actually very empathetic and sensitve towards Bloom and her pain. Not to mention that he does sound like someone who's been through a lot and has gained a lot of wisdom.

Speaking of which, there is a scene with Hagen and Riven that is cut from the English version... and it makes it much worse because that scene is essential to Riven's entire arc in the story. Riven is being very Riven-like in the beginning, and thinking more about being a warrior than about Musa and their friends and while Hagen tries to give him advice, Musa interrupts them before he can. So Riven ends up having to figure the same wisdom out on his own aka what's worth fighting for. And he does when Musa is ready to give her life to protect both him and Sky. Him learning what he should be fighting for is what helps him free himself from the darkness. You could figure all of that out even without the scene with Hagen but it gives a lot more context (and to Hagen too). I genuinely don't understand why they cut it.

The Book of Fate plot is also better because Daphne mentions that now the ice on Domino has started melting and that's how she learned that the Roc wasn't destroyed. That part is cut from the English version for some reason and makes that plot point seem random.

There's also a little scene cut right before they find the Book of Fate. Tecna mentions that the library is protected by a powerful spell and that's why it's still undisturbed despite all the turbulence with the Roc. Brandon wants the spell for himself so it can keep his room in order and Helia teases him about it. Then Stella uses some magic to fix the boys' hair after the wind from hanging from the Roc disheveled them. It's not important per se but it's really cute and gives everyone besides Bloom and Sky some more screen time.

Idk why the voice that is supposed to be Lysslis is... male? Like, what happened there?

Wait, Faragonda just said that the Ancestral Witches were created in Obsidian, which I don't remember from the English version.

The scene where they walk towards the Obsidian gate is also different. And better. Also, idk how you say that in English but you know that part at weddings when the person that officiates asks if there are any objections? Bloom just did the same but about other ideas about entering Obsidian. I think Winx and the Specialists all got married to each other and dangerous, inadvisable adventures.

Well, the part of the last scene with Marion and Oritel is much more heartbreaking, in fact. And it isn't so annoyingly sweet and perfect.

Of course, a lot of the plot holes are still here but the movie is way more watchable this way.