#ladysmaid

[tornsurvivors]

@ladysmaid​ gets a starter ft. Sylvanas

AFTER ENDURING EXCRUCIATING TORTURE, followed closely by a dirty death you never deserved... you become quite familiar with the sickening smell of rot and decay. With the unnerving silence, kept company by the suffocating emptiness in the atmosphere.  Crimson eyes,   having fluctuated out of their previously unthreatened hue,   narrowed at the darkened path ahead. Smoke is seen at the horizon and the shambling figures illuminated by the fires of the nearby town provoked a low growl from the Dark Lady. 

Scourge.    Without a puppeteer, they will continue to run amok till somebody puts them out of their misery. However, there were greater forces at work behind THIS. The powerful presence she sensed was unmistakable. After issuing orders to the Dark Rangers that followed,   the Rangers split up and blended into the darkness nearby. Sylvanas then dismounted her undead steed and dismissed it, her corporeal form melting into dark purple cloud and shadow tendrils, slithering towards the destruction.

It was as she had predicated, a whole town burning down and bodies of the unfortunate littered the grounds-- an untended cemetery looked far more tame than this.  Her attention shifts suddenly.  In the middle of it all, the source of the foulest power she’s felt ever since Arthas stood. In front of them, a few victims were on their knees and she already knew what the outcome of this scenario would be. It was enough to trigger her fury and she let loose an amplified wail-- lunging at the summoner. 

#SYLVANAS THREADS » for the horde! #ladysmaid #warcraft verse tbn. #hope this is good!

[parasadist]

 @ladysmaid sent: ❰❰ DYING ❱❱ sender finds the receiver near death / “ don’t  die . ”  @ cass plz 🥺

       she’s so cold.

       winter itself has burrowed beneath her skin, finding a home in her chest & her throat & her skull, ravaging her with crisp winds that threaten to carry her away - through the open armory wall & into the decrepit remains below. somewhere far from the castle, from her home, from all that she has sworn to uphold & serve & protect & it’s so cold.

       ( bela, i’m so fucking sorry )

       her vision blurs & hazes, reflecting the crystalizing of her body. a kaleidoscope of images & colors unable to find rhyme or reason in the shapes. cassandra squints against the confusion, against the rush of ( COLD, WHY IS IT SO FUCKING COLD ? IT HURTS, MOTHER, IT HURTS ) air that surrounds her, desperate for cohesion, for something to anchor her. for the familiar sight of her mother’s sharp golden gaze & the blood red staining her lips. something, anything, please.

        trembling, hardening fingers reach, struggling, grasping hard at the whisper of fabric that dances in the reflections of her gaze. it’s soft, she thinks. it’s comforting. it’s warm. it’s a welcome distraction from the chaos inside her, around her, that is her. comfort is familiarity & familiarity is family & family is MOTHER. it is the stability of arms holding tight around her torso, pulling her, dragging her downwards, cradling her against the rigidity of their body, determined to keep the breeze from carrying her away.

       MOTHER!

       strangled sounds curdle in her throat, struggling to find voice in the quieting buzz of swarms that create her form. every fly that is her body is panicked, frantic in the rapid motions of wings quickly, gradually, all at once, going slower & slower, losing momentum, losing strength, losing. failing. succumbing.

       “ m - mother, ” she strains, choking on the plea. MOTHER, HELP ME. MOTHER, I’M SCARED. MOTHER, I’M SORRY. MOTHER, MOTHER, MOTHER. alcina would be here. she would comfort cassandra, wipe the blood from her chin, comb the waves in her hair aside & scold her for her carelessness. alcina is here. she has to be. ( it must be her, please, be her - ) no one else would hold her so tenderly, let her feel so small & so safe even as the shivering in her body refuses to cease. even as the cold envelopes & smothers her, even as despair threatens to strangle her with its vicious grip. cassandra swallows down the fear.

       ( “ don’t die ”. )

       ... she’s dying.

       ( MOTHER will chide her if she dies without dignity.  )

       is this her punishment ? to die for failing bela ? for failing mother ? for failing the dimistrescu name ?

       ( who will protect daniela ? )

       she doesn’t want to die. 

       she isn’t supposed to die. 

       resolve is the only warmth left, an ember before the flame, starving for kindling to devour. but no flame can withstand the village’s winter. bloodstained teeth grit, held so tight that the sound of cracking bone & exoskeletons almost drown out the sound of howling winds outside & the agonized screams threatening to fall from the edge of her tongue.

       ( MOTHER WILL BE SO DISAPPOINTED. )

        cassandra chokes on the sob that viciously claws inside her chest. every bone in her body is heavier than lead, fragile as glass, fragmenting & cracking, threatening to crumble to dust. frost clouds the glassiness of her eyes, bathing the armory in hollow greys. it takes all of her strength to clasp on to the figure holding her close, faltering senses able to recognize the scent of something ...  familiar. of clean linens & mint.

       indra.

       ( mother never came for her... )

       she doesn’t want to die. 

       cassandra dimitrescu is ferocity, she is bestial. she’s supposed to be the hunter, not the prey. she was reborn to be strong, unwavering, merciless. but in her eleventh hour, her senses dull, leaving only the frantic thrum of indra’s heartbeat & the rush of the brutal gale.

       is this weakness ? this helplessness, this devastation ? it’s worse than the humiliation of failure. it’s worse than the harsh bite of winter that hardens what remains of her to crystal. it’s worse than anything she’s ever known.

       she doesn’t want to die.

       it’s so unbearably cold.

#i combined these bc it just made sense #blows u a kiss #ngl i've been working on this off and on for four months #and now it's my 100th post omg #♢ 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔. / i. village of shadows. #♢ 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔. / in character. #ladysmaid #death tw //

[torntruth]

happy upcoming birthday, you are def not just a mutual to me. you are my not so secret crush and someone i love so much ❤️ but you already knew that

#ooc. #ladysmaid

[cmitrescu-a]

@ladysmaid​:   I  CAN’T  WALK  AWAY  FROM  YOU  IF  I  TRIED.

power.  it’s  thick  and  heady,  and  cassandra  near-tastes  it  in  indra’s  words,  in  the  way  the  human  girl  looks  at  her.  indra  isn’t  one  of  the  sheep,  either  --  she’s  a  killer,  same  as  cassandra.  their  little  chases  have  become  bloodier  and  bloodier,  cassandra  emerging  from the  shadows  to  slash  at  indra’s  heels,  almost  playfully,  inches  away  from  slicing  an  achilles  tendon;  indra  retaliating  with  shotgun  blasts,  sometimes  actually  hitting  her,  and  the  sharp  sting  of  pain,  the  reminder  of  her  own  mortality  is  almost  as  nice  as  what  comes  after  (indra  doting  on  her,  apologizing  profusely  for  hurting  cassandra,  and  tucking  her  into  bed).

so  it’s  not  just  the  thrill  of  power  that  rushes  through  her  when  indra   speaks,  but  the  satisfaction  of  a  game  well-won.  and  something  else,  something  almost  affectionate?  something  foreign  to  a  monster  like  cassandra  dimitrescu,  except  perhaps  in  the  presence  of  her  family.  dark  mouth  twists  in  a  wry  grin,  as  a  playful  hand  reaches  out  to  capture  the  maid’s  chin.  “good.”

#𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚄𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙴 𝙳𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙽 ( in char ) 🩸. #𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚂 𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝚄𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙴 𝙳𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙽 ( answered ) 🩸. #ladysmaid.

[inky-duchess]

Goodnight, Duchess

In regards to the estate staffmembers, from ladysmaids, cooks and butlers, to the gardeners, stablekeeps, and gamemaker, where do they all live when they go down for the night?

Lady's maids, valets, housemaids, footmen, butlers, housekeepers, cooks and kitchen staff would stay in the house in the servant's quarters. Gardeners and stable boys would live nearby but not on the premises. Game keepers would usually be given a house on the estate.

#Ask answered #You might try watch Downton Abbey it depicts the lives of servants extremely well

[thecassandradimitrescu]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

Favourite Colour: metallics, blues, greens

Currently Reading: Scottish Myths edited by Jake Jackson

Last Song: Poor Unfortunate Souls

Last Series: The Librarians

Last Movie: The Green Knight  

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: All of the above

Currently working on: writing, costumes, and trying not to kill co-workers

Tagged by: @shireentheunburnt

Tagging: @dani-dimitrescu, @sapphic-alcina-dimitrescu, @sacrificialmaiid, @ladysmaid, @yippie-role-play, @ddomesticfucker, @sora-roi

And anyone who wants to

#About the mun

[ladysmaid]

" 𝙸 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃. "  𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙻𝚈 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙴,  𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙷𝙸𝚂𝙿𝙴𝚁,  " 𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙰 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓. "

independent,  private,  and selective resident evil village oc INDRA STELEGARDE.  with verses in cyberpunk,  marvel,  arcane,  greek mythology,  and more.  oc and au friendly.  triggering topics will be present.  please read rules prior to interacting.  

written by rinnie. she/her.  26.  est.

                                 𝚁𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂  |  𝙱𝙸𝙾  |  𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚁 

#finally i have a promo #reblog if you like ! #ladysmaid #re8 rp #resident evil 8 rp #resident evil village rp #indie rp #self promo

[redhells]

they were off the bridge, ash and fire behind them, before vi paused to look around. caitlyn clung to her shoulder to keep upright, slumped so low that the the part in her hair brushed vi’s chin. it would have been nice to be the taller one for a change, but caitlyn’s breath hitched painfully every time she put weight on her left leg.

after the bridge, the road opened up. tall, gilded buildings rose all around them, ugly in the reddish light of jinx’s newest explosion. vi couldn’t go back for ekko, not with the way caitlyn’s body sagged against hers, not when they probably had a matter of seconds before enforcers showed up in the dozens. vi steered them into an alley and lowered caitlyn to the ground, glancing back at the bridge, hoping to see the green glow of ekko’s board. “where do you live?” she asked caitlyn, gently. she didn’t know her way around piltover, but it helped to take action.

@ladysmaid​ !!

#ladysmaid #▐┋ vi. — (ic) #verse tbt #bc i'm dumb and haven't come up with a tag for basic post-time skip verse #i am sleep take this! i am excited for this thread!!

[hallucineugenics-a]

for @ladysmaid​ 

These... episodes... had been happening more frequently of late. Little stutters in reality where Donna would come to herself dazed, confused and missing chunks of time. It began with only moments. A second stolen here and there. Now they simply dragged and left the Dollmaker clammy and petrified. 

Indra would hear a thump as her lady powdered herself in the bathroom. The Lord discovered slumped against the wall, her tall form crumpled as if she were a dead spider. Veil thrown free in the fall, blood trickled down from a dark hairline, puddling in the corner of a singular rheumy eye that twitched about in its socket. A smear of red on porcelain told the story. Donna had collapsed and cracked her head against the hand basin. Now she lay, her Cadou, a most wretched thing, pulsed and squirmed as a poisoned rat might. Tendrils flicking against the tiled floor in meaty slaps. The very air carried the sticky scent of copper and Angie was nowhere to be found. If Indra did not act quickly, she may witness her Lord perish before her very eyes. 

#ladysmaid #indra save ur lord who has brain damaaaaage

[tornsurvivors]

“Syl?” Elyssa’s voice was like a melody, echoing through the Windrunner Spire. The very same home Sylvanas grew up in with her sisters, and younger brother. It had been reclaimed, and restored. The Scourge had been cleared out and the land around them had flourished over the decades-- returning to it’s former glory. No longer scarred. Their new family were raised there, and it became their home... it will remain for as long for their children to grow up and raise their own children for centuries to come. It took a while for Elyssa to find her wife, because their room was at the very top of the spire. Where her parents used to stay. Alleria and Vereesa had agreed to visit for the holidays, despite Indra’s qualms with them for personal reasons regarding their past with Sylvanas when she was a Banshee Queen. But the sisters found it harder to come around the Spire for their own reasons, so Sylvanas didn’t push them. She’d forgiven them by now. It took a long time, but in the end... she still found it in her to forgive them, somehow.

When Elyssa found her, Sylvanas was sitting on the end of their bed and something was in her hands. Her head was bowed. But Elyssa knew the shaking of her wife’s shoulders all too well. Knew that she had been weeping. Eventually, blue eyes flick up to meet with Elyssa’s brilliant emerald gaze. She did a doubletake for a moment there, noting for the first time in a long while... because the lighting of the sunset was hitting Elyssa’s face just right. For her to notice how her wife had aged like fine wine. She still looked incredibly young but matured, especially for her age... which was a little over a millennia by now. Sylvanas looked more like her mother, older but still breathtakingly stunning and there were more battle scars littered across her body. 

“Hey.” Elyssa murmured quietly with a warm and kind smile, shutting the door behind her before she made her way across the room to reach her wife. Sylvanas said nothing, but smiled back nonetheless. “I had a feeling I’d find you here. Lirath and Viviana just got back from their travels. They’re eager to share their discoveries with you. Elwin’s still with Liadrin and Fjora in Suramar.” Elyssa chuckled gently as she laid a comforting hand on her wife’s strong back- which was hunched over and soothingly rubbed it in the way Indra would have with them. Just one glance at what Sylvanas was holding, was all Elyssa needed to know why Sylvanas was in a such emotional state right now. 

She’d never forget Indra’s handiwork. Her embroidery was always breathtaking, because it was known that Indra often expressed things that meant so much to her through them. Elyssa remembers this one. It had been given to Sylvanas a few months after they found her and rescued her. Gave her a second chance to keep fighting. It was the very first embroidery, the very first gift she gave Sylvanas. It’s no surprise that Sylvanas kept it all this time. Elyssa figured she must’ve been doing a little spring cleaning and just happened to come across it, tucked away in the safety of the family treasure chest they kept in the room.

Elyssa said nothing as Sylvanas wept some more. She said nothing as Sylvanas reminisced on that day. She said nothing as Sylvanas pulled her into a tight hug. She said nothing, but held her breath when Sylvanas said:

“When I pass away, I want to be buried with this. So, I can take it with me when I see Indra again.” 

Elyssa still said nothing, and she didn’t have to, as she started to cry with Sylvanas. Just holding each other. Unbeknown to them, Lirath and Viviana-- both full grown adults, were standing in the doorway and watched their mothers with a sad, but understanding smile. 

They missed Indra too, terribly. They all would always remember her for as long they lived. 

#i'm sobbing rn #excuse me #😭😭 #DRABBLES » memoirs of a torn survivor #SYLVANAS HC » sealed in an iron coffin #ELYSSA HC » fierce till the end #VERSE: WARCRAFT // a second chance to live #SYL REL » I would brave the infinite dark once more if it meant saving you ( sylvanas x indra ) #ladysmaid

[torntruth]

#EMILY DYN: SYLVANAS — and thankfully some things will never be different. #CLAIRE DYN: JILL — i only fear danger when i want to fear it. #CLAIRE DYN: ALICE — we go together. #KRISTEN DYN: NIC + NADIA — the sun. the moon. the stars. #KRISTEN DYN: LIARA + SHEP — the good. the bad. the infinite. #JUDY DYN: INDRA — one. two. three. call me your home. #tornsurvivors #tornsavior #ladysmaid #torncast

[seachant-moved]

❝      indra,   look     !!       i    finally    managed   to   make   a   proper    FLOWER  CROWN.         ❞         not   typically   someone   who’s      𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝    enough   to   take   so   long   to   learn   something,   so   ariel   feels   extra   proud     of   herself   for   finally   doing   this   right.      she   carefully   places   the   crown   on   indra’s   head,      pretty   smile   wide   and   happy.           ❝    it   looks   great   !      ❞       ♡     @ladysmaid

#ladysmaid #* ♪ 𓂃⠀ ⋆˚ ⠀⠀ ﹙ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ⠀♡ ⠀mermaid among humans. ﹚ #* ♪ 𓂃⠀ ⋆˚ ⠀⠀ ﹙ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧⠀▹⠀𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 ⠀indra. ﹚ #no pain yet<3

[hallucineugenics]

@ladysmaid​ sent:  ‘ try not to move. ’

「   RP MEME :     WAYS TO REACT TO AN INJURY ;; ACCEPTING! 」

That voice, so assured, so honeyed to Donna’s ears, held concern that could not be so easily masked. The peeling cutter hit the floor with a clang, tarnished blade bowing on the stonework before rolling beneath a cabinet to be lost forever. Indra was distressed for her mistress. Indra had poked her nose in where it didn’t belong. 

A small wooden boy lay limp in Donna’s trembling hand, her other reaching out to snatch Indra’s pristine apron in a balled fist. Isaiah was a well fed child. Pudgy cheeks powdered to a rosy finish. Brows flung wide in an open expression of childish wonder. Specks of blood ran from the crown of his bare head to dabble on the toe of Donna’s right shoe. The boy’s chin had been cocked backwards to split away from the neck joint where a meaty tendril laid bare the heinousness of Donna’s devotion. 

The Dollmaker was haemorrhaging, a gaping wound at the base of where her right eye ought to lay. Her Cadou squirmed madly, it’s newborn counterpart reaching forth in some sentient desire to return to the greater whole. Donna cracked the boy’s neck with a flick of her wrist, banishing the Cadou back into its newfound home within little Isaiah’s skull. 

She did not turn to face Indra as she spoke, voice low and affect dull as a blunt spoon.

“May I have a bowl of warm water and a towel please? No need to waste the white set. The faded blue or pink will do.”

Her grip slowly, reluctantly loosened from her darling maid. The last added with a smile. 

“Thank you Indra, what would I do without you?” 

#ladysmaid #ATTEMPT 3 AT THIS GOD #also indra ilysm i hate making donna mean 2 u ;_; #cw gore #cw self harm

[seaprofound]

Q. WHICH FAIRYTALE ARCHETYPE ARE YOU?

instructions: take this quiz & answer the questions as truthfully as you can. repost, do not reblog!

THE MONSTROUS BRIDE “Just as the ultimate goal of Arthurian quest finally defines itself as the Holy Grail, the object that can never be assimilated into the real world, so the ultimate woman of romance is a fairy mistress, or fairy queen.” — Helen Cooper

The monstrous bride is not necessarily monstrous, but she is, by definition, inhuman, which is part of her je ne sais quoi. Her happiness often depends on whether her groom knows her inhuman. If he does not, he is bound to find out before the story concludes, at which point he will either be repulsed by his wife's deceit and leave her, or attempt to make the relationship work, but fail, because he is operating under a misinterpretation of her nature. If he is aware of her inhuman identity, it will often be one of the factors leading to his attraction to her, and he will be rewarded with her love–but often at the cost of abandoning his previous life completely.

Tagged by: nobody—just wanted to do it !! Tagging: @nuiruk, @bledwaves, @ofmywcrld, @elfaeba, @partloss, @warraigoe, @athinakori, @mielmoto, @storystrange, @sereniora, @singofus, @emcads, @multiicolor, @earthssprout, @badboysupr, @asakishi, @uizado, @warbled, @never-surrender, @oceansvng, @brokentoys, @ladysmaid, @mindpattern, @hoopsheartthrob, @heedingcalls, @dethqveen, @cauterisen, @riidcr, @asoulunbound & youuuuuuuuuuu !!!!!!! just say that I tagged you, ok.

#omigod this is so funny in light of po's delusion that she's human-passing #「 ♆ ❛ tag! you’re it! ❜ ╱ dash games. 」

[commonerhost]

@ladysmaid liked !

⸻ ❝ do you ever wonder what happened to the other maids ? before us , i mean . ❞

#ladysmaid #lmk if you'd like smth different! #v: tbd.

[bomsplode]

Starter for @ladysmaid​

Jinx huffed as she climbed down into the cargo hold. Apparently, there was a thief going around stealing Shimmer. Of course those people would stoop so low. They were addicted, like buzzing bees to honey. She couldn’t understand them, nor did she have any desire to. Silco had told her to guard the Shimmer until further notice so there she was, gun in hand. It was a boring job, but maybe a little thief might make it more interesting.

She daydreamed what it would be like if she caught them. Silco’s praise would be hers, and then maybe she could deal with something a little more entertaining than this. The weapon was fiddled around with a bit, rotating it in her hand just for something to do. Guarding this stuff was always the worst. Shimmer couldn’t talk. If it could, well... That would have been interesting at least.

A sudden sound alerted her. She was quick to raise her gun, eyes widening in delight at the thought of some action. Jinx snuck through the cargo, using the large containers of Shimmer as cover while she scanned the surrounding area. When she stepped out past a gap, she saw the intruder. The gun was quickly pointed towards them as she froze, head tilted back. ❝ So... You’re the thief? ❞

#I'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵃⁱⁿᵗ ( ic ) #In Silco’s Care verse ; Tʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐˡᵉˢˢ ʷᵉˡˡ #ladysmaid #I'm ready for some aaaangst