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#mother miranda is the only one who should die .
mrfoox · 1 year
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My simple view on things sometimes is really a problem and I forget majority of people dont follow my logic....
#miranda talking shit#Best example is blood family/relatives. Imo.. If someone hurts you badly and makes you feel bad etc you dont owe then your#Love time and patience. However many don't... Think its that simple and i understand that though i cant relate.#Met many who thinks its bad im not talking with my dad and that i dont love/care for him etc but im like ??? He never did for me#Why should i put down precious energy and time on a person that haven't raised me or loved me? He should be glad i act civil for moms sake#I think of my friends as family more than my actual family. I trust my friends more than i would majority of my blood family#Only one id die for and do shit for is my mom bc she have always loved me and done her best both to raise and provide for me#Maybe I'll change my opinion as I grow or something but... For me its just ... Simple. I dont want to invest in people who make me feel bad#Or have hurt me. Only one i have started to forgive is my oldest brother but him and me have always had an less bad relationship so#Its easier to spend some time with him. Maybe people think im awful for this mindset and think its unlike me#Bc im generally a loving person who cherish people... But like. Not everyone is entitled to me and my time. I am not going to ruin myself#To try to get approval from people who have hurt me or just haven't tried to love me/know me. Not like i hate them#But i won't spend time to try to fix something that never have been whole to begin with i dont have that energy#Negative#???? Idk maybe#I think i get so mad with otherd people family who treat my friends bad. I understand i dont know that member#Like they do. Im sure theres many good memories involved too but i hear shit they have done and i want to end them#My mother's brother was acting like a bitch for almost a year if noy more and my mom was so ruined over it. I wanted to make him hurt so#Bad. But my mom is so family oriented she'd never want to leave anyone out whos family while i was like... Lol i lost what little respect i#Had for him now :) im the worst mix of extreme sides but also the most middle ground person idk how i function#With relationships and social things im usually like... Either i love you and I'd die for you or i dont really care (not that i hate you#But i dont have the time to use my energy on you so i dont engage) youre everything to me or you're just ... There#I'll talk with people i love intensely for a while then dont contact them for months. Not bc i hate them but bc im giving#Someone else i love attention and i am always so hyperfocused when i do it. The older i get the more i follow my vibe feeling#If someone feel like they take more energy than i can handle even if theg seem nice ... I will distance myself. I am just a tired binch
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pelgraine · 14 days
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trying to sleep on this Ides of March and my brain is apparently determined to mull over Halsey & Miranda from S1 v S2 instead.
[halo spoilers ahead]
Like, Halsey is cold on a level that no one other than the Spartans and those intimately involved with the Spartan project can appreciate. I mean, she subjected her only child to the trauma of seeing the death of her flash clone - a violent death of someone that looked and acted and spoke exactly like her mother.
Sure, maybe some part of Halsey cared enough to warn Miranda she was chasing a ghost. But did Halsey believe Miranda would put the facts together? Did she want Miranda to put the facts together in that moment, or did she just not want Miranda running after the escaping Halsey? Did some part of Halsey think hey, she's hated me for years, it's not going to affect her watching my clone die, maybe Miranda would celebrate she's finally gone?
Regardless of her motivations - regardless of Halsey telling herself time and time again everything she did was for the greater good of humanity - she, at that time, did not appear to care for Miranda at all. Miranda had to see her mother's clone die a violent death, and this shortly after her actual mother having apparently pretended to be sorry convincingly enough to play on Miranda's emotions and steal her biometric credentials so she could, in effect, sabotage a great many things whilst using Miranda's identity.
But in stark contrast and prior to all that we have (in episode 5) the moment where we know, and see, that Miranda's ship has been hit by the Covenant. Halsey sees it happen and sinks into the chair like maybe her knees gave out. Yet only moments before she'd given the order to take the artifact onto Miranda's ship as the only suitable option. You could be forgiven for assuming Halsey was grieving the likely loss of their only chance to get the artifact safely out of the Covenant's hands.
But then we see Halsey ordering the ramp to Miranda's ship to get dropped and two figures stumbling out, and we all realise it's Miranda assisting that private who was injured. Halsey, looking genuinely terrified, calls out Miranda's name and immediately dashes out into the middle of a live battlefield to get to her. Miranda narrowly escapes being blown up and is blown over by the shockwave, and we see Halsey running in to pick her up and put an arm over her shoulder so she can help Miranda stumble to safety.
Then we get Halsey's interviews where we find out exactly how awful the whole Spartan program is, and Miranda is thinking just how misguided she was in her younger self's feelings being replaced as Halsey's child with the substitute Spartan children.
Everything that comes after that reinforces the idea that Halsey doesn't or cannot adequately value Miranda's feelings or wellbeing.
The more we learned about exactly the kind of things Halsey has done and subjected others (primarily the Spartans to), the more convinced I was she was a complete sociopath who was incapable of feeling the full spectrum of emotions and who didn't experience empathy. As the episodes went on I started to question that conclusion because it seemed increasingly apparent that Halsey did genuinely care for and likely loved both Jacob and Miranda Keyes, regardless of her either (ruthlessly) squashed or diminished capacity for empathy.
Then we have S2 e06 and e07. I've mentioned e06 with Halsey and Miranda in another post so I won't go over that again here.
In e07 there's so much I don't even really know where to start. Rewatching part of it now and it occurred to me that while Miranda is testing Halsey's trustworthiness for the information not contained in her notes (as she should, given all the shit Halsey pulled in S1), there's two things that really jumped out at me here. Firstly, it's the fact that Halsey seems to be genuinely grateful to have a scientific mind on her level to talk about these discoveries with, one who Is equally enthralled by it all (personal and professional contentions between them aside), and that is likely a major motivator for opening up instead of hoarding knowledge.
Second, there's the thought that Miranda had all of Halsey's personal logs and research because as far as anyone really knew, she was dead.
Thirdly - as we find out later - that an evident motivator behind Miranda's actions and obsession with her mother's work is because she's been searching for the meaning behind her mother's actions her whole life. Searching for meaning because if maybe she understood Halsey's motivations better she'd feel closer to her mother, something it seems Miranda has been pretending she found distasteful and wanted least, but has evidently subconsciously been wanting for a very long time.
It's curious that Halsey doesn't answer Miranda's 'who else knows about this' question, and I'm thinking that this means the full extent of Halsey's research and discoveries that eventually led to the Spartan program, and that the reason Halsey doesn't answer because maybe the only other person who knew as much as she did about it all is Jacob Keyes. And I like to think that maybe Halsey moves on/sidesteps the question because she doesn't want to put Jacob in a bad light, given the circumstances.
And maybe Miranda knows that and lets the question go for the moment, but she's clearly thinking about it because we get a brief shot of her in the background just watching her mother while Miranda is clearly tense as hell, shoulders rigid and creeping up toward her ears. Then she starts to talk about what happened. She's not asking Halsey questions, merely voicing statements, because it's evident some part of Miranda already knows her father gone. She just hadn't wanted to lose hope.
And Halsey is standing there, face and body language looking simultaneously wildly uncomfortable and increasingly grave as the conversation progresses, like some part of her wants to be kind and comforting to Miranda except she's been suppressing her instinctive emotional responses for so long it's like she's forgotten how to do so anymore, and she's desperately trying to dig up those forgotten memories because she realises she doesn't want to cause Miranda any more harm than she already has.
And we get that tiny little lip wobble and big eyes from Miranda as you literally see the reality of the news settle into her, while she tries not to cry in front of Halssy. And we get Halsey stumbling over her words (a rare occurrence) when she tells Miranda that she was there when Jacob died (when Halsey walked away alive and Jacob didn't,) and stuttering again as she calls for Miranda to wait (and not walk away).
Then we have the discovery of the constellation key map and Halsey whispers "now, that's something" in awe. (Which I'll get back to later 🥺)
They get the extremely cool constellation lock open and Halsey steps forward onto the bridge a moment after Miranda calls out "Wait, what if..."
When they're racing back over the bridge and Halsey gets enthralled by the evidence of a whole city below them like she's a moth about to get burned by the light and Miranda's tugging on her arm, trying to drag Halsey to safety, Miranda calls out Halsey's name four or five times in increasingly desperate tones.
It's only when the glass bridge is what looks like millimetres from cracking under Halsey's feet does Miranda let out a frantic "Mom! Please!" And the spell the undead city laid on Halsey is broken.
Halsey's look of shock suggests that Miranda maybe hasn't called her Mom in years (likely decades.) It's the trigger that saves her life just in time.
Then Halsey, like an addict, immediately demands they return to the cavern of likely death, before shortly proving she knows that she and Miranda are a little too much alike in some respects by demanding Miranda reveal the fact she got the object the entombed scientist was holding (protecting?). Miranda looks hesitant, almost shuffling in place in reluctance to trust Halsey, before giving into the need to share the discovery. She passes the object to Halsey who looks thrilled and Miranda gazes back to her with an expression so reminiscent of a child pleased that their parent is proud of them.
Later, Miranda reveals the extent of her fascination/obsession with the site and Halsey's notes, when talking about her staying late and working alone with just Halsey's notes for company for the last five months. I'm curious about the phrasing of "it felt like talking to who you used to be," because it both gives away so much and raises so many questions. Just from that I get the impression that at one point Miranda used to enjoy Halsey's company, used to appreciate their conversations and the like - which made me wonder at what point did it all start really going downhill between them and how long ago it was. I wonder if they've worked together on other research projects in the past, perhaps part of what makes them so familiar with how each other operates even while estranged.
More than that, even, is the striking degree of vulnerability that Miranda is willingly displaying here despite everything Halsey has done (in season 1 particularly) and despite her valid mistrust. Miranda so clearly very much wants to connect with the only family member she (presumably) has left, invariably letting Halsey know how important she is still to Miranda in the process. Miranda's words of "And don't worry. If you never get there, I will," have a multitude of layers. Spoken to the table instead of directly to Halsey's gaze, they become a sort of teasing echo to all their previous tension and 'anything you can do I can do better'-style competitiveness - while retaining that shy undercurrent of attempting to reassure Halsey that her work matters to Miranda, that Halsey isn't alone in her efforts and that someone else will pick up the ball and keep running with it when she can't, if only because they share that common ground together with the same goals.
That little tentative half-smile that Miranda gives in response to Halsey's reply of "I believe you" with her steady gaze is also telling - it underlines the implications that I've mentioned above. When Miranda unexpectedly manages to get the object open she breathes our 'Halsey' like it's reflex after so many years of doing so, to get her attention - but then she looks up and - after (more or less) finally allowing herself to be emotionally vulnerable in Halsey's presence - says "Mom?" upon realising Halsey isn't right there with her.
We get a drawn-out camera shot of Miranda alone in an otherwise dark room, looking confused and a little lost, Halsey nowhere to be seen. It echoes their earlier conversation - Miranda is alone again because Halsey is not who she used to be, whoever that was.
Miranda looks back down at the object, overwhelmed by the potential gravity of the discovery she's made, but the halfway between a sigh and a laugh she breathes out seems both celebratory and in resignation - as though she's disappointed at Halsey vanishing right then and also disappointed that she's at all surprised to have thought Halsey would actually be reliable enough to be there and share in the celebration with her.
Miranda says "Now, that's something," in awe of the discovery in her hands, in much the same way Halsey said earlier in the episode. It makes me wonder if Miranda is just echoing what Halsey said before, or if it was a regular habit of Halsey's to state the phrase upon discovering something new and inspiring that Miranda picked up by association.
Now that I think about the episode again, what's the bet that Halsey ran off to try and get into the forerunner lab again but gets waylaid by either Cortana or a security lockdown of the base before she had the chance to get infected by the Flood? Oh no, now I'm thinking about Miranda trying to save Halsey from doing stupid life-threatening things again and now I'm even more keen to see next week's episode.
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nayialovecat · 10 months
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Roots and shoots (fragment)
Chapter 11 - Roots and shoots, vol. 9 - Anura
POV: Narinder would sneak out of the village as the Lamb left it. Lamb find out about that and demanded an explanation, so Narinder showed them where he's going. It turned out that he was visiting family: a squirrel who is raising her two cat-sons alone. This here is the conversation that resulted from that.
Yes, my Lamb can't bleat. They doesn't know many things that sheep can do, and this is the first time they is experiencing this lack. (I also try something new in english translation, I wonder if you notice.)
By the way, it's going to be an interesting tenth volume, isn't it? :]
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Chapter 11 - Roots and shoots
Lamb looked around. They noticed that Narinder was already moving away. They moved after him. He, breathing with difficulty, left the clearing where the house stood and plunged into the forest. He trembled slightly. Lamb became visible a few meters away. They was silent. He waited. They sensed that it was up to them to break the silence.
"So... You found yourself something like a family?"
"No," he snorted. "I don't feel a bond with them."
"I saw something else..."
Narinder sighed. He stopped. He looked at them. "These are cats," he announced and waited a moment. Lamb didn't understand. "The only cats in this village. Their father was a cat, but he died a long two years ago, when the younger one was still a kit drinking his mother's milk."
"Okay. Why is it a problem that there are no other cats?"
Narinder looked annoyed. But then he looked at Lamb and realized... for the first time so strongly and clearly... that they is one of a kind. There are no other sheep. They is the last one. In addition, raised by all sorts of creatures - but not other sheep. They didn't have... had no cultural identity. They had no legacy. They had nothing. Suddenly, he began to feel sorrow and sadness about this, and sympathy for Lamb....
"Well, yes, you don't understand that..." he whispered. "You don't understand... Wrath, animal species is not just diversity, it's more than that... it is... a set of traits, habits, ways of functioning... Which are passed on in families. When... when we have mixed families, still the children of a particular species are handled by the appropriate parent to pass on the important things about their common species..."
Lamb was listening.
"These toddlers... were deprived of guidance, and there are no other cats in their village. When I discovered this... I decided to teach them how to be cats, so they wouldn't lose it... Did you know that the younger one couldn't even purr?"
Lamb was silent. A flurry of thoughts slowly began in his head. Narinder sighed.
"Cultural identity is important, as is the survival of the species itself... But I understand why you don't get it... I have no special emotional bond with these cats - I help them because I don't want them to be handicapped as cats... their mother is not able to teach them that. This is my secret. I've been sneaking out because I just didn't want you to think that these are important people to me, that they are my family... they are not. With Miranda we have a clear case - we both know it very well. I help her raise her sons as cats, but between us there is only polite camaraderie."
They was still silent.
"Once I've taught them everything they need to know about their own species, I'll remove myself completely and probably never meet them again. With luck, I'll also be able to teach them to fight a little, and maybe they won't die on the first crusade they go on..."
Lamb raised his gaze. There was a strange sadness in their gaze, a strange pain. Narinder sensed what he was about to hear. "And who should teach me how to be a sheep?" they bleated quietly. They seldom bleated. They rarely went into that peculiar sheepish tone, an accent that had atrophied in him due to the fact that he had virtually no contact with other sheep. Narinder bit his lip. The answer was... unpleasant. His leader would not like it.
"Wrath, I'm really sorry..." he whispered. "I didn't want your entire species to be exterminated, really. Shamura... neither. But the others... well, that's what happened... maybe it had to happen that way... or maybe not at all. We'll never know."
Lamb remained silent. And then they slowly raised their gaze. There were some dangerous flashes in it. "Can the dead teach?" they asked.
Narinder was amazed. He didn't think his Bishop would come up with this solution so quickly. Far too quickly, in fact.
"Well... technically... why not, but..."
"So I made a decision. I had quite a few reasons before: the desire to see how the followers were doing in the hell of redemption, to bring your siblings the gifts I had prepared for them... But now... now I have another reason. I have to find out. To find out what it's like to be a sheep. How I should be a sheep."
Narinder sighed. "It will be necessary to prepare a lot of candles, a pentagram and a really decent anchor..." he sighed. If you don't destroy at least a few hell spheres along the way, it will really be a miracle..."
"Why should I destroy anything?"
"Because you'll get pissed off. You'll get pissed off as soon as you talk to any of the dead during that slaughter of the sheep. I got pissed when their tormented souls flowed past me, and as you might have noticed, I'm not one of the strongly empathetic or compassionate beings."
Lamb remained silent. After a while they sighed. "Another plan... Into the Land of the Dead I must enter anyway... But... Instead of learning there how to be a sheep... can I pull any soul back to the world of the living? But not a spirit, not a memory... Just a real soul?"
"You can't resurrect someone who died before you established the Crown and, in addition, outside your area of operations..."
"But can I summon and keep a soul?"
Narinder looked at them. There was something strange in his gaze, as if calm, a bit of derision, but mostly a taxing appraisal. Lamb endured this gaze. "Yes," announced Narinder. "I think you can do it."
"Excellent. So, when I go to the Land of the Dead, you will make all the preparations, my future high priest..."
"Aren't you already angry with me for sneaking out?"
"No. If you sneak out for the sake of your species, I understand and respect that. You don't have to sneak out, you can just go there... once a week or even twice, as you prefer."
"Once is enough."
"Just... don't forget your duties to me. That's all."
The cat bowed with gratitude. He thought: Lamb was similar to him at times, yes, but overall... quite different from him. And he think he even liked that about them.
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Rozdział 11 - Korzenie i pędy
Jagnię obejrzało się. Dostrzegło, że Narinder się już oddala. Ruszyło za nim. On, oddychając z trudem, opuścił polanę, na której stał dom i zagłębił się w las. Lekko drżał. Jagnię stało się widzialne kilka metrów dalej. Milczało. On czekał. Przeczuło, że do niego należy przerwać milczenie.
- Więc... znalazłeś sobie, jakby rodzinę?
- Nie - prychnął. - Nie czuję z nimi więzi.
- Widziałom coś innego...
Narinder westchnął. Zatrzymał się. Spojrzał na nie.
- To są koty - oznajmił i chwilę czekał. Jagnię nie zrozumiało. - Jedyne koty w tej wiosce. Ich ojciec był kotem, ale zmarł dobre dwa lata temu, kiedy młodszy był jeszcze oseskiem pijącym mleko mamy.
- Okay. Dlaczego to problem, że nie ma innych kotów?
Narinder wyglądał na zirytowanego. Ale potem spojrzał na Jagnię i zdał sobie sprawę... po raz pierwszy tak mocno i wyraźnie... że ono jest jedyne w swoim rodzaju. Nie ma innych owiec. Jest ostatnie. W dodatku wychowywane przez najróżniejsze istoty - ale nie inne owce. Nie miało... nie miało tożsamości kulturowej. Nie miało dziedzictwa. Nie miało niczego. Nagle zaczął odczuwać z tego powodu żal i smutek, i współczucie dla Jagnięcia...
- No tak, ty tego nie rozumiesz... - szepnął. - Nie rozumiesz... Wrath, gatunki zwierząt to nie jedynie różnorodność, to coś więcej... to... zespół cech, zwyczajów, sposobu funkcjonowania... które przekazywane są w rodzinach. Gdy... gdy mamy rodziny mieszane, nadal dziećmi określonego gatunku zajmuje się odpowiedni rodzic, aby przekazać istotne rzeczy dotyczące ich wspólnego gatunku...
Jagnię słuchało.
- Ta maluchy... zostały pozbawione przewodnictwa, a w ich wiosce nie ma innych kotów. Gdy to odkryłem... postanowiłem nauczyć ich, jak być kotami, aby nie zatracili tego... Czy wiesz, że młodszy nie umiał nawet mruczeć?
Jagnię milczało. W jego głowie powoli zaczynała się gonitwa myśli. Narinder westchnął.
- Tożsamość kulturowa jest istotna, tak samo, jak przetrwanie samego gatunku... ale rozumiem, czemu tego nie rozumiesz... Nie łączy mnie żadna szczególna emocjonalna więź z tymi kotami - pomagam im, bo nie chcę, aby byli upośledzeni jako koty... ich matka nie jest w stanie ich tego nauczyć. To jest mój sekret. Wymykałem się, bo właśnie nie chciałem, abyś pomyślał, że to dla mnie ważne osoby, że są moją rodziną... nie są. Z Mirandą mamy sprawę jasną - oboje doskonale o tym wiemy. Pomagam jej wychować synów na kotów, ale między nami jest tylko uprzejme koleżeństwo.
Nadal milczało.
- Gdy nauczę ich wszystkiego, co powinni wiedzieć o swoim własnym gatunku, usunę się całkowicie i pewnie nigdy więcej ich nie spotkam. Przy odrobinie szczęścia zdołam też nauczyć ich nieco walczyć i może nie zginą podczas pierwszej krucjaty, na którą się wybiorą...
Jagnię podniosło wzrok. W jego spojrzeniu był dziwny smutek, dziwny ból. Narinder przeczuł, co zaraz usłyszy.
- A kto ma mnie nauczyć, jak być owcą? - zabeczał cicho.
Rzadko beczał. Rzadko wchodził w ten specyficzny, owczy ton, akcent, który zaniknął w nim przez to, że nie miał praktycznie doczynienia z innymi owcami. Narinder przygryzł usta. Odpowiedź była... przykra. Nie spodoba się jego liderowi.
- Wrath, naprawdę mi przykro... - szepnął. - Nie chciałem, żeby eksterminowano cały twój gatunek, naprawdę. Shamura... też nie. Ale inni... cóż, tak się stało... może tak się musiało stać... a może wcale nie. Nie dowiemy się.
Jagnię milczało. A potem powoli podniosło wzrok. Były w nim jakieś niebezpieczne błyski.
- Czy zmarli mogą nauczać? - zapytało.
Narinder zdumiał się. Nie sądził, że jego Biskup tak szybko wpadnie na to rozwiązanie. Zdecydowanie za szybko.
- Cóż... technicznie... czemu nie, ale...
- Podjęłom więc decyzję. Miałom już dosyć sporo powodów wcześniej: chęć sprawdzenia, jak sobie radzą wyznawcy w piekle odkipienia, zanieść twojemu rodzeństwu prezenty, które dla nich przygotowałom... lecz teraz... teraz mam jeszcze jeden powód. Ja muszę się dowiedzieć. Dowiedzieć, jak to jest być owcą. Jak powinnom być owcą.
Narinder westchnął.
- Będzie trzeba przygotować dużo świec, pentagram i naprawdę porządną kotwicę... - westchnął. - Jeśli nie rozwalisz co najmniej kilku sfer piekielnych po drodze, to naprawdę będzie cud...
- Czemu miałobym coś rozwalać?
- Bo się wkurzysz. Wkurzysz się, gdy tylko porozmawiasz z którąkolwiek ze zmarłych w czasie tamtej rzezi owiec. Ja się wkurzałem, gdy ich umęczone dusze przepływały obok mnie, a jak mogłeś zauważyć, nie należę do silnie empatycznych czy współczujących osób.
Jagnię milczało. Po chwili westchnęło.
- Inny plan... Do Krainy Zmarłych muszę wejść tak czy siak... Ale... zamiast uczyć się tam, jak być owcą... czy mogę ściągnąć duszę do świata żywych? Ale nie ducha, nie pamięć... Tylko prawdziwą duszę?
- Nie możesz wskrzesić kogoś, kto zmarł zanim założyłeś Koronę i w dodatku poza obszarem twoich działań...
- Ale czy mogę przywołać i utrzymać duszę?
Narinder patrzył na niego. Było w jego spojrzeniu coś dziwnego, jakby spokój, nieco drwiny, ale przede wszystkim taksująca ocena. Jagnię wytrzymało ten wzrok.
- Tak - oznajmił Narinder. - Sądzę, że dasz radę.
- Doskonale. Więc, kiedy udam się do Krainy Zmarłych, poczynisz wszelkie przygotowania, mój przyszły najwyższy kapłanie...
- Nie jesteś już na mnie zły, że się wymykam?
- Nie. Jeśli wymykasz się dla dobra swojego gatunku, rozumiem to i szanuję. Nie musisz się wymykać, możesz po prostu chodzić tam... raz w tygodniu czy nawet dwa razy, jak wolisz.
- Wystarczy raz.
- Tylko... nie zapominaj o swoich obowiązkach względem mnie. To wszystko.
Kot skłonił się z wdzięcznością. Pomyślał: Jagnię było niekiedy podobne do niego, owszem, ale ogólnie... całkiem od niego inne. I chyba to mu się nawet w nim podobało.
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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years
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So after you mentioned that you were willing write for Heisenberg and I noticed your requests are open (I'm really slow to catch up with these things ^^"), I would like to request a fic for him with these prompts if it's okay:
❝  i don’t have perfect words.  i’m not the kind of person who knows how to sound poetic and shit.  so all i know what to tell you is that i belong to you.  i don’t know if you want me.  but i’m yours.  and at this point however it is you need me,  i’m here.  ❞
❝  i know i fucked up.  i know i did but don’t shut me out anymore.  let me in.  please let in.  ❞
I thought that maybe the reader was already in a relationship with him, and was upset with him being a part of kidnapping Rose. I'll leave the length completely up to you, and if you feel up to making it nsfw that would be great. But it's completely up to you, and thank you in advance <3
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notes: I hope this was alright! Sorry for the wait, things in my life have been super hectic these last few weeks.
pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Reader
word count: 1.2k
☾ ⋆゚  MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM
A change of plans
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You were still trembling from rage at what had just happened, at the yellow-coloured flash in your partner’s hand. A child. She was a child and you had only wished that you hadn’t been powerless to stop what just happened to her: being turned to crystal and distributed to the four Lords of the village in separate flasks. But it would do you no good to speak out against Mother Miranda, the local god, and die with the child where you will become useless to try and rescue her. You knew that she could be rescued due to the plan that Heisenberg had explained to you as you reached the factory. It was bad enough that he had helped to kidnap her, that he had stood by and allowed Miranda to do her weird science with her but now he was planning on using this child, this baby as a weapon too? She should be returned to her poor, poor father who was probably somewhere suffering from the cold at the crash site where he had been left. 
You didn’t know where to go. You refused to go to your friends, the Ladies Beneviento after their complicity in the plan, you knew the Dimitrescu sisters but had never been particularly close to them but they were out of the question due to their mother’s complicity. Perhaps you could go to Luisa? She was a caring woman for all in the village and would likely be able to spare a room for you and, even if she couldn’t, she would likely make room simply due to your association to Heisenberg – or maybe she would deny you for that very reason without his explicit permission for you to stay. 
He seemed to notice your silence at one point because he stopped rambling on about his plans for Rose and defeating that bitch Miranda, “-buttercup, hey, are you still listening?” 
“How can I listen to such madness, Heisenberg?!” You exclaimed. “That is a child! A baby!” Your finger pointed accusingly at the flask in his hand, “You helped Miranda to kidnap her! She has a poor father out there looking for her, her mother is being held by Miranda God knows where if she’s alive at all, that is. I’ve stood by while a lot of questionable and fucked up things have gone on in this village, I’ve turned a blind eye to things that have made me an unforgivable person, even as a bystander but this? This? I can’t take this, I can’t stand by for something like this, even if I can’t do anything at all, I can’t just watch it happen as I always have.” You took a sharp breath, “I’m leaving. I don’t know where I’m going yet but I’m leaving.” And you marched off into the factory, leaving Heisenberg behind to take in what you had just said. He had thought that you would be in on this plan of his, he knew how much you hated Miranda and the way you ran this place, that you wanted to see the people of this village liberated from her tyranny but he didn’t expect that you wouldn’t like his method of doing so. When he made his way into your shared bedroom, he found you throwing clothes into a duffel bag. 
“Y/n, wait a minute, please listen to me.” He said, setting his hands on your shoulder to try and stop you from packin up any more of your belongings. 
“What could you possibly have to say?” You sighed, knowing that Heisenberg wasn’t the type to drop a big plan like this. He could see the simmering fury in his eyes, the horror, the pain, fear even. You were a storm of emotion and he knew that he had to weather it before you actually stormed off to who knows where. He let go of one of your shoulders to remove his hat, throwing it onto the bed and setting his shades upon his head so that you could see the sincerity in his pale hazel eyes. 
“I’ll change the plan. We’ll find another way.” He said, “I don’t know how yet but we’ll figure it out and we’ll do it together.” 
“You’re seriously changing up just like that?” You raised a brow sceptically. 
“You’re about to leave.” He highlighted. “I don't have perfect words. I'm not the kind of person who knows how to sound poetic and shit. So all I know to tell you is that I belong to you.  I don't know if you want me. But I'm yours and at this point however it is you need me, I'm here. You mean more to me than all these plans, than this village, than all these plans to overthrow Miranda. I won’t lose you and if I have to change the plan, I will. Hell, if I have to throw it out of the window entirely, I will.” His hands came up to cup your jaw and his forehead rested against yours, eyes piercing into you. “I know i fucked up. I know I did but don’t shut me out anymore. Let me in. Please let me in. “ He implored you and you could tell that he was being genuine.  
“And we have to save that poor girl, Karl.” You said, that being the highest on your list of priorities at that moment. He nodded his head. 
“Yes, we’ll save her… We just need to think of how.” You turned around and set the bag on the floor, a sign that you would hear him out, that you would give him this chance to redeem himself, that he wasn’t about to do all the terrible things he had just been telling you all about. 
“The father?” You suggested, “I know Miranda kept the mother for the purpose of taking her place but I’ve been talking to Moreau and they’ve been experimenting on her too, something to do with being affected by a strand of the megamycete that Miranda didn’t have access to in some freak accident, don’t ask me the details because I don’t know. What are the chances that the father was involved too? That maybe he has this strain that the mother has? Can we find him and use that? Surely he’ll help us if we’re working with him to save his daughter.” 
“Or he’ll hate us for my involvement in the first place.” 
“Our involvement.” You corrected him. You might not have had an active role in all of this but being a passive bystander made you feel just as guilty for what you hadn’t done instead of what you had done. “So we’ll need to do something to show he can trust us.” 
“Give him a weapon that’s just as dangerous against us?” He suggested. 
“It’s risky but it could work if we can show him that we’re on his side. Hopefully he will be able to defeat Miranda but we’re placing our bets on him being involved in the same accident as the mother here.” 
“In which case we have the metal army and we can hope that that will be enough.” You began to tremble all over again but this time it was from fear, not rage. You always knew this day would come, that you would have to stand up with Heisenberg against Miranda, who absolutely terrified you but you also knew that you would never quite be ready and would have to face her even so. Either you stand up now or she crushes you all tomorrow. 
“Let’s go help out that little girl’s father.” You said with a nod, trying to show confidence that you didn’t feel. 
“Let’s.” 
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☾ ⋆゚ Buy me a coffee? ✧⋆.・゜Want to be tagged?
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thevillagegay · 1 year
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Wishing Out Loud - Chapter 2
Summary: (bitch)Miranda makes an appearance, everyone is pissed, and a plan may be forming.
Notes: SO NEW PLAN! I've gotten a few things on here and tumblr about making alcina a ghost and that just tickled my brain so I'm gonna write that one too. This, however, shall be different fic because I like two different ideas so I'll make a separate fic with ghost!cina for y'all. This was gonna be longer but I need to post something. Go yell at me in the comments because it only gets worse:)
Tags: mentioned character death, miranda because she deserves her own warning in this fic, no gore/violence in this one
In the midst of their grief, everyone still noticed that it took Mother Miranda 2 days to show up to the castle. She claimed that she had other matters to attend to, but the obvious glint of a lie in her eyes shone brightly to everyone present. They all knew she didn’t really care, as much as they wanted her too. They knew she could have stopped the man, knew she probably could have helped Alcina. But she wouldn’t. 
The false deity would leave everyone to wallow in the loss and reap what they sowed. She forced her way through the group to the newly widowed woman, asking her with a sickly politeness in her voice to join her on a stroll.
Almost as soon as they closed the door to the parlor outside her room, Mother Miranda switched as though someone had pushed a button. While she still kept that look and voice, the air had turned positively sinister. The way that she carried herself made her look like someone who had finally won, relishing in the victory and triumph over her enemy. 
Miranda's smug demeanor disappeared when she finally caught a glimpse of the downright murderous glare that the newly widowed woman sent her way. 
"Why the hell didn't you come help her? Why did you let her die." said the angry woman. Her once downtrodden eyes now alight with hate. 
Miranda’s face turned to one of mock-confusion, “I have no possible idea of what you mean. You must be delirious in your grief, we should run some tests.” If it wasn’t already obvious, her eyes betrayed her sinister thoughts, as usual. 
“There’ll be no need for any tests , Mother Miranda,” the younger woman said while staring daggers into the woman's eyes, “I’m sure I just need a few days.” A few days to deal with you, that is.
Had the false prophet been able to read what was going on in the woman's head, she would have struck her down on the spot, had she not needed her for further experimentation. It seemed the only thing that the winged bitch cared about was getting her long dead child back, no matter how many other children and parents she harmed in the process.
“Well, I’ll be taking my leave then. More work has to be done before our next meeting. Do be sure to take care of yourself, child .” Her signature sneer graced her features with the last word, golden clawed hands stretching out in a flourish. Her features twisted further the second she turned to leave the castle
The lords and company were startled by the door being pulled shut to the room, Heisenberg standing up confused as everyone else’s heads darted to the woman in the doorway. 
The distressed woman started rambling the moment the door was closed, her hands coming to her hair, “We need to get rid of her, she’s going to hurt us she’s going to do something she’s got something planned she’s dangerous sh-” 
The woman was cut off by the loud shout from the scruffy man, her hands being grabbed away from her head lest she rip half of it out. Her daughters stumbled from the unmade bed to their mothers side, each getting out of the way for Donna and Moreau behind them. The two maids that had brought food would have left, had the door not been blocked by the family. Instead, they kept to the side as they asked the woman what she meant.
“Calm down, calm down please. What do you mean she’s planning something, what is Miranda going to do.” Donna took her hands from Karl as she replaced his spot, veil long forgotten and voice coming out in a hoarse whisper as she tried to calm the frantic woman. 
“I don’t know, I don’t know but we need to do something . She’ll kill us all. You, me, karl, sal, the girls, hell even the lycans. She’s going to do something either before or at the next meeting and it can’t be good.” Salvatore’s eyes widened at the last bit, having received a schedule from Miranda about meeting times since it was more difficult for him to leave his domain. 
His garbled voice had no help from his anxious state as he breathed out, “The next meeting is in 3 days.” His voice shaking even more than it had previously at the realization that they now had a limit to the days they would have together. 
Cassandra seemed to have lost sense for a moment, as she immediately tried to push her way out the door before Karl and Daniela tried to stop her, each grabbing an arm before she could turn the handle. 
“We need to know what she’s going to do before we run off and try to kill her, she could have traps set out for all of us. She knows what hurts us and how our abilities work so we have to be extremely careful. Emphasis on careful.” Karl hastily said before the middle bug child succeeded in her escape attempt. 
Cassandra stopped pushing herself towards the door, practically falling into Bela’s arms behind her. Her eyes still shone with anger, tears threatening her eyes as her face twisted even more.
A voice reached the family from near the fireplace, “Excuse me, but I believe we may be of some assistance.” Almost every head turned in confusion as the older of the two maids that had been forgotten about stepped forward, head turned up to look between the remaining lords.
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royalreef · 6 months
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@fullcfphobias inquired: putting Oz forth to see what'd happen.. abyssal terror incoming We should breed and ask our child what they think - Accepting
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(( I will start this off by saying that this is among the very few situations where their kid coming along accidentally is possible. I won't discuss that here, as Miranda knows enough about the stray elements that make that possible to manage it, but the possibility has to be mentioned first, before the rest.
Because, really, none of this should be possible.
Miranda won't discuss the specifics and doesn't want to, but they come seemingly too easy for any sort of cosmic horror, for any entanglement of the beyond and mere skin and bone. Nearly natural, even, and not as a mere experiment to burn out and die like the rest, but something that sticks. The old things, the beyond things, they aren't born this easily, and especially shouldn't come from here, shouldn't come from a princess who is, by all rights, just a princess, but it's there. With perfect certainty, with comfort and ease that shouldn't be, they exist.
Worse still, is the near seamless melding between the flesh and the not. All they are and all they seem to be, is the shape of a merfolk, but cut out of the world around them. Blackness without depth and without substance, perfect blackness, the kind that makes them look like a hole punched out in the middle of a room, but only that. They have depth and shape, moving around them or watching them move betrays the fact that they aren't merely flat. Just like any other abyssal merfolk pup, except missing, and they are a pup. They start small, and they grow. They learn to speak at the same time that a merfolk is expected to learn, grow at the same pace, go through the same process, not merely as a mockery nor as imitation but as something innate to them, a melding too perfect to be natural, for anyone else to be comfortable.
It's Miranda who looks after them most. It doesn't feel right, still, that just a princess should be able to hold something like them, should be able to touch them, to carry them, to share so much with them in a way that doesn't harm her nor even cause discomfort nor fear, but she mentions none of these things. She speaks quietly with them, teaches them abyssal as their first language, shares strange knowing looks and tells them things that she won't speak to anyone else.
It's her who gives them the name Diin'ehai, and only explains later that, in her first language, it means First Song, or First Singer, depending on the translation. She does not elaborate further.
They follow her, mostly, their mother's child more than Oz's, and looks at them with glances that at once seem too alien for mere mortal nor beyond nor something else entirely. This is made only worse by their glances not being something that can be seen, not having any eyes to contrast against that perfect backdrop of deepest black, but something that's felt. They become private, shy in what they're willing to share, but not in a self-conscious way. More like they are aware of something that no one else is, who knows what should be said at any given time and what should be omitted.
Merfolk toys and interests are used more than those from the land, pushed towards merfolk playmates more than any other, and they resemble their companions far more than they have a right to, than anything like them ever should.
If they get too excited chasing Oz's fingers as a pup, or keep staring at him without explanation as they age, well, you know how children are.
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Ramblings Watches Halo
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Episode 6: Solace (or It’s like I’ve been awakened) 
“I have no plans to save you from what’s next” 
In which John MasterChief has a series of panic attacks, Makee goes full Karen, Halsey doesn’t have a favorite kid (though she doesn’t much care for Miranda), and we see how good the show can be if it jetsons the Madrigal subplot. Plus, an update from the shipping corner!
While last episode I didn’t have as much to say, I do not mean to imply that it was not a good episode. Rather, I am less equipped to write about action than my partner in crime, @sonofcarnelian whose response to my recap last week was as specific and interesting as mine was rambling (although as it is my name, I believe I get a pass). 
This episode finds us dealing with everything we have learned thus far and then hurtling towards the (to me, anyway) unknown. I really like how much this episode mirrored episode one, from the obvious Edward Cullen style Kwan apparition to once again seeing JMC test his health (status: bad) to my personal favourtie, how JMC knows how to possibly kill Halsley by ripping up parts of the ship. We thought we were seeing an awakened John MasterChief five episodes ago, but here he has fully gone rogue and is out for blood baby. Importantly, he has no Kwan to be his morality pet, shown in the episode by not having her sublot present at all. 
He does have a couple of sisters though, as all Johns should. First and foremost, Kai is recovering from the damage she suffered in last episode's battle. 
(Sidenote, the filmmaking in this episode is some beautiful stuff, the smash cut from battle cries to all too human cries is really good stuff).
I also really appreciated how the rest of the squad, who still have their pellets, are sympathetic to Kai’s strife, but are generally kind of “???” about her, and Kai finds them really fucking boring with their stormtrooper dialogue. Just tremendous. 
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I think a worse show would have had Kai die, fridge style, really hyped up JMC’s pain. But having Kai live is not only the more unpredictable choice, and I appreciate it because I don’t like female characters dying for no reason, but moreover I think that it’s more effective to have her live. JMC sacrificed the artifact for his people, people who matter intrinsically despite his conditioning. Having to deal with the reality of other people's pesky freewell, their feelings, the fact that caring for people is a liability, is the very thing that Halsey seeks to eliminate for the greater good. Having JMC have to deal with the messiness of life is far better storytelling than any other option.
Speaking of Halsey, OH BOY. What happens when your very special boy who you implanted with your own clone brain goes crazy? Well the government who you conned Locks! You! UP! It's like the fanciest condo you ever saw with your CREEPY ASSISTANT WHO I HATE. But that’s okay because you come equipped with creepy eye contacts for some nefarious purpose that at this point, remains a mystery to me, but does remind me of the BATMAN. So i mean. That’s something. Mother of Ramblings, here on out referred to as MoR, in her commentary for this episode said “I hope you liked Halsey being nice to Miranda last episode, she’s a bitch again” incredible.  She’s right.
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Poor Miranda. So used to being emotionally abandoned that she doesn’t even see she’s fully being gaslit. It’s so sad watching her be manipulated, because who doesn’t want her words to be true? Alas, her mother is #peeping on her every move.
 But that’s okay because she’s got just the best big brother this side of the galaxy.  Yes, JMC and Miranda bond this episode as Miranda becomes head of the spartan program and John MasterChief just needs to dad a girl so fucking bad. Honestly, another thing that makes Kwan easy to forget, because Miranda and JMC have such an easy sibling chemistry. That dynamic between you and your siblings where power dynamics are so fluid. You love to see it.
We’re putting a pin in Kai and Miranda for moment, as we need to get into the other #girl of this episode 
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Makee is hanging out in the Reach and she is serving Malkovich energy this episode because she needs to see JMC she is no longer asking. It’s interesting, because aside from her contraband romance novel, Makee’s loyalty to the Covenant has been unquestioned. We watched her massacre those people with no remorse. And the intell she gives to the UNSC seems to be bunk. But her “ooh baby you want power so bad” monologue to JMC seems ernest. (when she says "you're the demon :)" she's unhinged!) And HORNY AS HELL
LET’S PUT MEAT BACK ON THE MENU GIRLIES: WHO WE SHIPPING
While I went into Halo blind as we know, I have since gleaned that the dominant ship is Master Chief and Cortana. And I respect that whole heartedly because Cortana is great and we stan 🎶inside my mind🎶 couples
But it must be said that Cortana has gotten short shrift lately, she is Halsey’s bud this episode much more than JMC’s. 
Meanwhile, pre this episode, people, mainly MoR, has been shipping Kai and John MasterChief. Now, I understand this, as Kai is drawn to JMC right from episode 1, but personally, Kai reads as a lil sapphic, but that could just be the hair and my personal dislike for childhood friends to lovers.
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But now we have Makee and John MasterChief, who do not have sexual tension precisely, but the camera does an incredible job of keeping them separated, of having them be drawn and repulsed by each other.
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And YES, when they have they’re mutual vision at the end i was like yeah YES I immediately texted @sonofcarnelian this:
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So where does that leave us? Is she still evil? If so- hot!
And though I don't understand the vision, I do find visions sexy and seems like there's some halos? In the Sky????? Lots to unpack
ANYWAY. I'm dangerously behind and next ep we're back to Kwan so :/
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tcarley · 2 years
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Why are people not more angry?
As a women, in a large portion of the US, I have more rights to my own body after I’m dead than when I’m alive. When I die my body cannot be used to save people unless I give consent. Even if 10 people are dying right next to me, that could live with my organs, I cannot be forced to give up any part of myself to save them. Even if you consider a fetus to be a ‘baby’ I should not be forced to give up my body, my energy, my nutrients, my anything to another being without my consent. When I am legally brain dead, meaning my brain function is low enough that it prohibits my ability to perform life skills or cognitive functions my next of kin has the right to “pull the plug”. The fetus does not have viable brain function and without MY BODY to support it, it ceases to exist. This is a morbid and detached way of viewing this issue. I personally do not believe abortion would be my choice, but I am privileged. My personal choice has very little to do with this issue.
Whether or not you support women having bodily autonomy, the overturning of Roe vs Wade is a problem for all genders. Dozens of court cases ranging from contraception to private matters within a persons home have been decided with Roe vs Wade as a basis for determination. With this precedent being overturned, every case it has been used in is now in question. The supreme courts job is to interpret the constitution, uphold the constitution, and protect citizen rights. Over 50% of the population of the United States just lost their rights. The constitution, which our democracy is built upon, is written with religious neutrality as a founding point. In the preamble of the constitution a main purpose of its creation was to promote general welfare of citizens. How is this decision an extension of American values?
The 14th amendment clearly states that all persons BORN or naturalized in the United States shall not be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process. A key statement in here is born. A fetus is not born at conception. That is a religious view, and even that can be contested with Genesis 2:7, Job 33:4, and Ezekiel 37:5-6. The Bible is often interpreted and unclear, even to those who dedicate their life to studying it. In these passages it states that “life begins at breath”. A fetus does not breath, and if you want to argue that they receive oxygen from their carrier that is not the definition of a breath. The mother on the other hand is a living and breathing citizen of the United States and has a constitutional right to their life. If forcing a women to carry a fetus to term kills her that is a direct violation of her right to life. Religion has no place is the this ruling because we have a right to be free from religion in this country.
Liberty in the constitution refers to a person having the freedom to act according to one’s will. How is this not a violation of a citizens liberties? The ruling the Supreme Court has given violates their essential function. This is only the beginning. If they can violate these rights what is to stop them from doing the same to others? Even pro-life activists will be upset when freedom of religion, freedom of speech, right to due process, or right to bear arms is questioned. The Supreme Court recently ruled in the case of Vega vs Tekoh and furthered this point. The case was pertaining to Miranda warnings, established in a previous case of Arizona vs Miranda. It is considered to be a precedent, yet it has been overruled and now citizens do not have the right to seek reparations when denied these warnings. This is an example that what is to come affects every single citizen in America, not just women. So be angry and be upset. The only way to create protections for ourselves is to feel this deeply enough to make changes in our systems.
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fallesto · 2 years
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"You're not my mother let me be!" (For mother miranda I promise this time it'll be a joke lmao XD)
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“All you have to do is take my hand and you can be my daughter. My true daughter and everything will make sense once more. You will never hurt. You will never go without. You will never age nor die. You will be perfection like me and we can be happy once more. Your entire little life, has been building and building towards something and this is it. To be the one, to bring her back, to become her mind, body and soul. Such a thing, is not something you should shy away from, embrace it, take it, and finally have a family that can protect you from the cruelty of the world. I am the only person … who will ever love you.”
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wallflowerimagines · 3 years
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Hello! Um... I don’t really know how to start this but say I love your hc! I think you do a fantastic job on them, there all very sweet but being the s.o.b I am I’m here to ask for some angst. How would you think the lords act if their S/O died?
...I'm feeling mean. 😈
Warnings: Angst, Death, Horror Game villains making bad decisions/not coping with tragedy, suicide.
Alcina Dimitrescu
Denial, Denial, Denial
You can't be dead. There has to be something, anything that she can do to save you. Alcina scrambles for a solution, attacking the problem from all sides, despite the reality of the situation staring her in the face.
Immediately injects your body with Cadou in a desperate hope to save you. Any possible chance that he has to save you she's going to take it.
It's not likely that your corpse reanimates, but it does mutate. At the end of the process, what's left of your body hardly even looks like you anymore, and she can't bring herself to look at it.
She builds a gilded crypt for your body-- it's stunning. It's inspired by you, all your favorite colors, styles and hobbies are incorporate to make the room feel full of your spirit. Alcina is an artistic woman, and she throws herself into the project like she's possessed.
It might take years, even decades to complete. It has to be perfect. When it's done she feels accomplished, but twice as empty. It might be one of the most beautiful dedications she's ever made, but it can't replace you. She has the room sealed off with no way to get to it, so she can't be tempted to visit. She just needs a piece of of you still in her home, or she can't get through the day.
...If your corpse does reanimate, it's actually worse for Alcina. Whatever she brought back was a shambling, horrifying mess of mold wearing your face. It couldn't think for itself, or even follow commands--it just wanders in circles and attacks anything that gets too close.
She keeps your reanimated corpse in a cell, unable to bring herself to destroy it completely. Sometimes, she'll go down to the basement and talk to the thing like it is you, telling it about her day, having one-sided conversations and thinking of all the wonderful memories the two of you shared.
When its dead eyes meet hers, her lungs seize in her chest and tears gather in her eyes. Alcina doesn't cry often, but when your corpse meets her gaze she starts to sob. Those eyes used to look at her with life and love and now...
Still, she can't stop herself from visiting it. It's a compulsion she can't stop, and it tears open the wound every time, but some irrational part of her deep, deep down thinks that one day, she'll descend those steps and you'll be there to greet her with a warm smile.
In either scenario, she will never have another partner. You're impossible to replace, and she feels truly, genuinely empty without you. Rest well, Darling. You'll never be forgotten.
Donna Beneviento
There is such a thing as a last straw, and this is it for Donna.
Please remember: this is a woman who has lost everything. Mother Miranda might have given her a new "family", but Donna is not nearly as attached to these new members as she is to her original family. And the loss of her original family has shaped her in such a way that if you died? She would be absolutely devastated.
It's not fair to put this kind of pressure on you, but in a very real way you were her last hope for normalcy. She had all these plans to fix her family with you. You were so instrumental to her hopes for the future that now that you're gone, it feels like she has no hope at all. You were her missing link, her one true love, and now that you're dead...
Donna screams until her throat is raw when she finds out you're gone. Angie can't help her, nothing can. She just can't cope with reality anymore.
She'll build a life sized Doll of you to try to help herself cope, but the minute she tries to implant of piece of her Cadou in it, she is filled with such a vehement hatred of the thing that she starts scream-crying before she takes an axe to it's face and hacks it to pieces. How dare it pretend to be you?!! It's not even close to the real thing, she shouldn't even have tried--
She might try to induce a hallucination of you to help her get through the day to day, but it's not the same. She can't perfectly mimic your laugh, or your smile, or the way you tuck her hair away from her face. It's so obviously not you, and Donna is... alone.
I do hate to say it, but she will absolutely try to kill herself if you died. You were the one person who understood her, empathized with her, and you were her best friend. You were her support system, the one person who could carry her through the worst times in her life, but you're gone. Donna can't believe that anyone else could be there for her like you were.
Salvatore Moreau
Absolutely, irreparably broken.
When the two of you were in a relationship, you busied yourself not only with smothering Salvatore in all of the love and affection that you could, but you also did a lot to help his self-esteem and mental health.
You made sure he knew that he was loved, that you could never hate him, and even on your death bed you make him promise never to forget how wonderful he is.
Once you're gone, though, Salvatore cracks.
He clings to every bit of you felt behind. All of your jewelry, clothing, pictures and sentimental items are preserved to the best of his ability. Your living space is transformed into a shrine dedicated to you.
It's not healthy, but he also deifies you in his memory. Mother Miranda is no longer the only person that he worships-- the memory of you is now sacred to him. You become something holy and perfect in his mind's eye. It doesn't matter how many flaws you had in reality, your death has turned even your worst flaws into traits to be admired and praised. His perception of you is totally twisted.
Speaking of Mother Miranda, he regresses a lot. His adoration of Mother Miranda was something you were helping him work through, but now he's right back at square one, and even worse off than before.
Moreau can't make a decision on his own anymore--from what to say, to what to do, and sometimes even what to eat. After all, it's his fault that you died, isn't it? You were his partner and he used to be is a doctor. How could he possibly trust himself with anything when he couldn't manage to save the most important thing in his life?
To the rest of his family, he's more pathetic than before. His obsession with his Mother was usually limited to when she was in the room, but now it's constant.
If he ever hears the quote "It's better to have loved and lost, then never loved at all," he gets supremely, violently angry. No. No, that's not true, it's bullshit, how dare you even say that to his face.
If he hadn't loved you, you would be alive. He would be alone, but you would be safe. You would be happy.
Now he's alone, and all you are is dead. He can't ever come back from it.
Karl Heisenberg
Rage. Unending, earth shattering Rage.
Whatever killed you better start to fucking pray, because Karl Heisenberg will not quit until it's suffering.
He doesn't kill who or whatever it was. He let's it sit there, mangled beyond belief, and uses his knowledge of mechanics and biology to keep it alive in constant, unending pain.
It's cathartic for him, but not in a healthy way. The more he hurts it, the better he feels, but at the end of the day, you're still gone, and he's still alone.
He's... lost.
Heisenberg should be angry, fuck he wants to be angry more than anything, but the longer he keeps the thing alive... emotions seem like they're too far away anymore. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants... you.
He keeps something of yours in his pocket at all times, just to run his fingers over it and remember you. Your eyes, your laugh, your smile... It's almost like a stress ball, and these days sticking his hand into his pocket to wrap his fingers around the thing is the only way he can calm down.
Sometimes he turns to ask your opinion on something, or tell you a joke with a big smile on his face because this one is going to make you laugh for sure-- and then he freezes when the reality sets in once again. You're not here.
Remember, Heisenberg has idealized the two of you as this perfect partnership. You were the first person who looked at him and loved everything that you saw. You weren't just his first real relationship, the first person that he implicitly trusted, but you were also his very first real friend.
He wasn't the most friendly person to begin with, but he did get better because of you. He was still spoiled, a little socially awkward, and maybe his dark sense of humor would slip and get a little too much, but he grew as a person.
Now that you're gone, he can't even remember what it's like not being a cruel, empty shell of rage. All he has left is his hatred of Mother Miranda.
After a while, it doesn't matter if he's ready to take her on or not. He's going to face that bitch head on and kill her, or die trying.
If he wins, he's finally free. If he doesn't... that's not so bad either. Karl doesn't really believe in an afterlife, but there's something appealing about joining you wherever you might be.
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countdraluka · 3 years
Text
A castle of one hundred witches
Upon hearing the cautionary tales surrounding castle Dimitrescu, an outsider might be tempted to imagine its occupants as dozens of helpless damsels held at the mercy of four demanding and cruel mistresses. Upon arriving at the estate, however, they will find that the truth lays far from the imagination. There are those girls whose employment does not last long, of course - girls who tremble, and cry, and who die within the week - but any observer with half a wit will soon recognize the many other peculiar personalities who keep the castle afloat.
The head of staff, who rules over her servants with an iron fist, and whose punishments for misbehavior rival even those delivered by Miss Cassandra.
The seamstress, master of her craft and of sewing shut the mouths of blabbering outsiders.
The chambermaid, sensible and skilled with makeup and who excels at running perfumed blood baths. She is also the best at gossip - coven gossip. Rumor has it she is Miranda’s little bird, even, but you did not hear it from me.
The butler, handsome and charming and the only woman whose suggestions of Sanguis Virginis years always pair perfectly well with the Lady’s choice of meal for the evening. Ask her what she expects to die from and she will answer that it will be of old age, and she is not wrong.
The gardener, who manages to grow roses all the way through winter and who always carries a pistol strapped to her side, to be fired in case any prey who made it past the courtyard dare think the worst is over.
Even the pets - blood bags, dolls, snacks, or whatever else you may want to call them - whose only job is to look pretty and kiss well and taste nice. They will feign innocence towards the pitiful man-thing who stumbled into their room, only to stick a heel through his eyeball the second his guard comes down.
And the maids. So many of them. Maids who just want to survive; maids who want to become pets; maids who know they are better off here than out there. Maids who are prideful of their work, too, and who will not spare expenses at keeping it that way. Maids whose childhood dreams were to serve Mother Miranda, and who know that there is no greater honor than to do so through serving Lady Dimitrescu - so they seek out the castle for employment and will accomplish any task given with a pleasant smile. Maids who would have been burned at the stake, were they out there instead inside here.
Last, but not least, there are the mistresses. But to them you are already acquainted, are you not?
You may try to escape them, that is true. Chances are they will even let you go, for they are easily bored and will not waste their time chasing dull vermin, and for a moment you will think you are safe. That you will make it out alive. And then you will realize something dreadful.
Good help is terribly hard to come by - but once she does, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu keeps it forever. No need to ask yourself what is meant by that, Maiden, for you will find out soon enough down in the cellar. Some say there is a way out, even from behind those cell walls, but you should probably ignore such foolish advice. You were looking for a job, so think of this as your interview. A formality.
And maybe, if you meet the description and make an impression, you can also become a witch.
Castle Dimitrescu is always hiring.
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therewasatale · 3 years
Text
his scars
On Ao3.
Summary:  Each Lord had their own rules, and you have broken Lord Heisenberg's.
Note: I saw a bunch of fanarts with Heisenberg having a lot of scars, so I played with the idea.
Each Lord had their own rules. Which if their servants did not follow, they had to pay a heavy price.
Rules like that; you must not go to the lower levels of the factory alone. If Lord Heisenberg said something, you had to do it without question, especially for your own safety. And if you visited his private room, you always had to knock before entering.
You’ve always followed two of them. However, your attention slipped over the last one as you hurried out of the elevator to Heisenberg's room. At each step, you could feel the slow, rhythmic thumping of the factory from behind and below you as the various machines and tools worked non-stop. Every click, tap, or squeak has become as familiar to you as your very being.
Pulling closer the book you got from him a month ago, you tried to gather your thoughts about what you wanted to say. You'd have never thought a darker fantasy would appeal to you so much. It had a mystery, a bunch of different, but still interesting characters, and an oppressive background that the story slowly began to bring to light by the end of the first book. The ending was open for a promising sequel.
And you entered his room. Without knocking.
Inside, the smell of thick tobacco and oil rushed your senses.
"Heisenberg, I brought back the book! And imagine it's already-"
"WHAT IN THE LIVING HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" He yelled.
You froze in place in the doorway. The sudden shout shook you up completely and you gripped the book tighter in your hand so you wouldn’t drop it.
Your gaze was immediately drawn to the man, as he was standing by the bed.
Heisenberg's shirtless upper body was covered in a myriad of thin scars, like cobwebs across his entire body. Starting at his neck, they ran down his chest all the way to his waist, and probably continued under the pants. The scars on his arms were gnarly, from long healed injuries, which were most likely the results of fights. However, some of those on his chest were too straight and clean to come from an accident.
"Get. Out." He didn't look into your eyes. Objects trembled around him. A knife rose into the air from his desk. "NOW!"
You didn’t look back when the door slammed close behind you. Not when the elevator was already climbed up a few levels. And not even when you got to your own room and threw your back at the door. You felt like a hand was wrapped around your throat and it began tightening its fingers, ever so slowly.
Long minutes passed and yet you still felt as if your heart was trying to break out of your chest. The only thing you could clearly hear besides the beating of your heart, was your own panicked breathing.
"Shit..." you slid down with trembling legs. You had to wrap your hands around your body to try stop the trembling.
It was over.
You broke his rule. And now he's going to kill you, if you're lucky, he will make it quick.
Each Lord had their own rules, and now you have broken Lord Heisenberg's. Like a stupid fucking kid.
"Shit!"
You were aware of the fact that the people in the Dimitrescu castle disappears and got replaced very often, and you were really surprised how different Heisenberg was from what you imagined. He shouted a lot and swore even more, but he never tried to hurt you, even on his worst days, he just grumbled impatiently and vented his frustration on his machines.
He was loud, but understanding in his harsh way. Impatient, but still a good listener on his good days. He was rough, but you knew he cared about you, in his own grumpy way.
You were happy. You enjoyed living here.
But now...
Now you had to get out of here.
The sudden thought helped to clear your head with such force that you have managed to get on your feet. You didn't want to die. You didn't deserve death for a complete nonsense.
You had to get away.
Heisenberg waited while as the elevator started upwards.
He didn't even have to move his hand. The knife spun around its axis then it slammed into the wall with tremendous force, then again and again and again. It didn't stop until the blade bent from the force. His fingers trembled, bolts and gears threw themselves around him in all directions. The legs of his bed buckled as the springs in his mattress straightened, pierced trough the material and then snapped and shot themselves into the ceiling.
"Fuck!" He grabbed his dirty-gray hair and pulled it hard enough so the pain would clear his head a bit. He needed to calm down before he smashed everything around him. The bed creaked behind him, as two of its legs finally gave up and fell to the ground with a thud. Then there was silence again. This snapped him out from his blind anger.
He shut his eyes tightly. Letting his shoulder sunk, he took a step back and threw his back against the cold wall. He needed to take a few deep breaths to slow down his pounding heart.
When he opened his eyes the first thing that caught his eye, was a scar running through his forearm. He clearly remembered getting it in a fight against a bunch of lycans. Years ago, when he started constructing his factory the territory of the lycans stretched all the way to the area where the main building would be. At the time, they didn’t even know who they were facing and sometimes they ventured through the fence. That evening, Heisenberg did not expect them in such numbers, let alone that they will attach wooden spears on their arm to counteract his powers.
With a sharp exhale he lowered his arm.
Those creatures became what they were thanks to Cadou. Technically, they were all related. He took a deep breath, knowing it well that these thoughts didn’t help and were not important right now.
He gave himself a disgusted look before he got dressed. When he buttoned the last button on his shirt, only then he let his thoughts wander again. An unpleasant feeling settled into his chest.
You saw him. And now you will run away.
It was over.
He knew that the body he had to live in was utterly repugnant. The body which was experimented on by Mother Miranda, conducting studies and surgeries until she was satisfied with it. The body she put the parasite in and which cursed him with this fate. He hated her for making him this way, and he hated himself for being her child.
He still woke up time to time drenched in sweat from nightmares where he has been implanted with the parasite over and over again.
It spread throughout his body and turned his existence into pure hell. His thoughts burned away by the eruption of the unbearable pain, he felt as if his chest would open up and his heart would tear itself out of its place. However, the worst part of it all, was the realization that something was trying to subsume his consciousness. Claws tore into his brain and tried to suppress part of his being. It was almost successful, but Heisenberg held on.
And when he woke up after the procedure, he found himself in a whole new hell.
You were the only thing, along with the constant building, that kept him happy day by day, and helped suppress his raging hatred. On the worst days he still could felt the Cadou trying to making its way into his head. But you always were there to help him, or at least, you tried and he was grateful, even when he didn't say anything.
He knew full well that this would not last forever. Because why would it last? In this godforsaken horrible place everything fell to pieces and rotted apart eventually.
He took out a cigar from the depths of his coat.
He didn't want anything; he didn't ask to being like this. And yet you stayed with him. He had you. But now, you saw him.
The bitter smoke slowly rose from his lips.
Everything was over.
 Hours have passed. Night arrived, or just the tiredness told you that.
You thought about running away again and again trying to figure out how, and when you should do it. The first thing you thought was that you had to find a way to do it as soon as possible. The elevator was an option, but you would have risked running into Heisenberg, or, more dangerously, into his servants. He could send them after you at any time.
It was risky.
Or there was a ventilation system that weaved through the factory. You could use that, though you were afraid of getting lost inside of it forever rather than getting out. Escaping trough, the dumpster promised only similar chances.
You even started to think that maybe first, you should talk to the man. Or at least try to talk to him. Though your reasonable-self protested profusely against this emotional suggestion.
However, your pride also spoke up and somehow, it made you stay. You're not going to run. Not anymore. Not from him.
So, you waited.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you hoped you would have a chance to talk to him. You just couldn’t decide when to go to him. Every part of your body shivered as Heisenberg's angry voice echoed in your head. You had to go to talk to him, but you were simply unable to leave your room, at least for now.
Fortune was on your side for once.
Your door opened slowly. You felt your shoulders tense up and you swallowed dryly. You couldn’t look up at him.
"I thought you would have left already." His voice didn't sound as harsh, as you would have expected.
You glanced up at the man who was leaning against the doorframe. He folded his arms in front of his chest, his eyes were hidden behind his black sunglasses.
"Why should I leave?"
"Well," despite his words his voice sounded surprised "I yelled at you."
"You've yelled before."
Heisenberg snorted a little and rubbed his hair under his hat. This didn’t go as he thought it would. "Well yeah, but..." his words let him down.
"What happened to you? I mean your body…?" You got up from your bed. He was just a few steps away from you.
The man drummed with his fingers a couple of times on his arms. "I fell."
"Heisenberg..." you took a careful step towards him.
"Lord Heisenberg." He corrected you. "If my bitch mother is forcing this prestigious bullshit then we should keep to it." He sounded more annoyed than angry. He continued to drum slowly with his fingers, but you could also feel his eyes watching you from behind his glasses.
"I'm sorry that I didn't knock."
For long minutes, the only thing could be heard was the rhythmic thumping background sounds of the factory.
"Well...Yeah..." He scratched his graying hair slowly as he pushed himself away from the doorway. "Listen, if you want to go, then go. I'm not going to stop you, just don't ever comeback. All right? Have a nice life, or whatever. That giant trash is actually looking for new maidens," He turned around.
You managed to stand up and hurried after him stopping him in front of the elevator.
"What?" Heisenberg glanced down at your arms as you hugged him. "(Y/N)?"
"I'm sorry." You snuggled closer to his back, hiding your face in the fabric of his coat.
"For what?" His hands shook, he had to stop himself from touching your arms. The thought made him tremble a bit, but he realized that you were trembling too. You were so close to him, he could felt your body against his, your finger griped into his clothes.
"For not knocking. And not saying sorry. And for not trying to talk to you." His coat smelt like tobacco and oil, just like everything around him did in this place. For you, it felt like home.
When he didn't answer, you spoke again.
"I don't want to leave. I'm sorry."
There was another quiet minute. You were about to let him go when he finally found his voice.
"Are you sure? But you saw me." He carefully caressed your hand with his fingers. "You saw what that bitch did to me."
So, you were right, those wounds were too straight to be from some kind of accident.
With your eyes closed you enjoyed the gentle touches, as he run his fingers along the top of your hands, and then slowly moved up on your arms as well. He slowly relaxed between your arms and leaned closer to your body. Even his breathing became more even.
When he sighed, you let him out from your hug and stepped beside him, looking up at him "Come with me, Lord Heisenberg." You gently took his hand and pulled him after you. heading back to your room.
"Hm?"
"I need some rest, and you too. And I'm sure you've destroyed half of your room."
Heisenberg pulled down his hat into his eyes. Damn.
"Why would I have done that?" Oh, for the love of god, shut up you, idiot! He snorted to himself.
"Because you care about me, just as much I care about you. Come." You pulled him all the way to your bed. Turning towards him you took off his hat and glasses.
"Mh, what?" His tired eyes looked straight into yours.
"Your eyes are really beautiful."
"Oh shut up." Stepping next to you, he threw himself on the bed.
You never dared to ask why you got a bed which was big enough for two people. Whether someone owned this room in the past, or the man had some kind of plan for you. But right now, as he leaned back to the bed, you haven’t really found a reason to worry about that. Climbing next to him, you hid under his arm. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you sighed deeply.
"Well, I hope you're happy."
"Very much, thank you."
He snorted and listened quietly to your steady and calm breathing as he tried to ignore his own pounding heart. He fervently hoped you wouldn't notice this. This hope was unfortunately false considering that you were only a couple of centimeters away from his heart.
The redness spread through his face even more so than before.
He didn't imagine this could happen. You shouldn't have been here anymore. You should have gone to the village a long time ago and not looked back. You should have left everything...and everyone behind.
Instead, you were here. And you laid next to him so damn close. His skepticism struggled against the notion.
Like anything would just become magically fine after this.
"You know, you can't fix me with cuddling, right? I'm messed up in the head and even more fucked up in my body." He swallowed dryly.
"What are you talking about?" Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes.
"I just told you." He let out an impatient huff. "You can't fix me, I'm this fucked up. And it won't go away after some warm cuddling and snuggling. Sorry to ruin your hopes."
"I don't want to fix you, Heisenberg."
"What?" Every answer of yours caught him off guard.
"Why would I want to fix you when I like you this way?" You leaned closer, slowly kissing him. His body tensed, you could feel his grip tighten on your shirt, then his lips gently kissed you back. The kiss tasted bitter, like his cigar. He pulled you closer and didn't let go until you yourself pulled back.
Looking into his eyes you smiled gently. "Besides, I've been here a long time, so I'm pretty sure I'm just as messed up in the head."
"Damn." His grey eyes almost sparkled. "God damn."
You let him pull you closer, snuggling up to his shoulder.
"So, we're messed up together."
"Pretty much, yeah. But somehow it doesn't bother me."
Heisenberg was sure by then that you could feel the pounding of his heart, but he didn't mind it now. He gently caressed your face with his fingertips from your forehead through the line of your nose all the way to your chin. He spent a lot of time under your eyes.
"Listen, I know she did something to you." You placed your palm carefully on his chest. "But your body isn’t scaring or disgust me." You gently caressed around his heart trough his shirt. "It's your body, it belongs to you and I like it. I mean it's yours and it's fine."
"Mh," he replied tellingly.
His heart finally started to quiet down. Good. He needed to think with his god damn head and not with his heart. Everything happened differently. For hours he believed, no, he knew, that you have already ran away. He wanted to give you time, that was one of the reasons he didn’t come after you for so long. And yet, deep within him he felt he can't just let you go. Who knew what he would have done if you would have told him to his face that you are leaving him? He felt as if his whole world started to tremble.
It was as if you could feel what he was thinking you snuggled closer and rubbed your head against his shoulder.
The man sighed softly.
But you stayed. You were here, and you were honest. Maybe he could be a bit honest too.
"Sometimes, I dream that I'm just a machine myself." He gently played with your hair. It was a long time ago when he touched something this soft. "That I'm lying on one of Mother Miranda's experimental tables, and when I look down at myself I see nothing but gears and bolts that work together inside me. It's not my body anymore, I lost my real one. Then I start to lose my mind as well. And she just watches me, every damn time. Calling me his son. " He rubbed his face into his hands.
Raising your head a little you laid it back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
"What are you-"
"Sh."
The man snorted, in confusion and embarrassment.
"Hm, all I can hear is your flesh heart beating in your chest. The rhythm is pretty fast but maybe because of the many cigars."
"Oh, shut up." He hid his face in his hands and tried to rub the crimson of his face away.
"All right, all right." You snuggled back to his shoulder. "Still, I'm not going anywhere."
"You can be a stubborn bastard sometimes."
You chuckled, clearly proudly and as you embraced him a smile remained on your face.
The room around you was filled with the sounds of the thumping factory. It felt comforting. Your heart started to quiet down as you let your consciousness relax from the rhythmic noises around you two. His hand drew gently circles on your shoulder.
"Can we stay like this for a while?" You asked, what he didn’t dare to ask.
"Sure." He pulled you even closer and buried his face into your hair. He seemed to relax even more. He raised a finger, and his sunglasses slipped off, levitated under his coat, and raising it up gently laid it on the two of you, before it landed itself on your nightstand with a small clink.
"Thank you." You muttered as you gently drifted towards sleep.
"Yeah-yeah." He kept his face hidden in your hair.
You won't leave him, at least not now. Maybe you will actually stay with him, maybe you were stubborn enough to do it. He ignored his worries about the future, instead, to his own surprise, he let himself be happy for once. He slowly fallen asleep with you on his side, listening to your breathing.
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mackeydoodledoo · 3 years
Text
Demon or Human?
Tumblr media
Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x Demon (Fem!)Reader
Summary: A foreign invader comes into Castle Dimitrescu just as you were settling in with your new family. However, how far would you be willing to go to protect your newfound home and your newfound love?
Warning: Game spoilers (I’ll try to keep those at a minimum), Blood, Slight G0R3, uncontrollable demon rage, fluff at the end
A/N: In light of some Resident Evil Village spoilers... Let’s just say I WILL NOT HAVE IT! So, I guess this is another entry to my The Demon Amongst Vampires series! R is My Character: Hydrangea Dragonfold
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1 Year..
You’ve been inhabiting Castle Dimitrescu for one year. Alcina had been able to persuade Mother Miranda to keep you in her care instead of letting you be hunted for sport. You’d probably survive it anyway, with your demon abilities. 
“I have to go to a meeting,” Alcina announces to you and her daughters, “Apparently Mother Miranda has found a foreigner man-thing in our village grounds.”
“A man?!” Daniela squeals of excitement
"A new plaything?!” Cassandra asks
“You must bring him here at once mother,” Bela says
She looks at her three children, almost looking like she is tired of their pleas. However, she recomposes herself
“I will have to persuade Mother Miranda as best as I can,” Alcina says, “I appoint Hydrangea on watch. Bela is in charge.”
You leave your mouth agape, hearing your name after while of Bela calling you “micul meu demon” or everyone else calling you demon.
“But mother-” Cassandra interrupts
“Why can’t it be either one of us?” Daniela motions to her and Cassandra
“Because I’m the oldest,” Bela flaunts her ‘eldest sibling title’
“There will be no complaints my daughters,” Alcina says, “Guard the castle well Hydrangea.”
“Of course My lady,” you say out of respect
“You have permission to call me Alcina Hydrangea,” She smiles
Alcina makes her exit. 
“I get the first bite on the man thing,” Daniela blurts out
“Not if I catch him first,” Cassandra interrupts
“Enough!” Both you and Bela scream
Your blue flames ignite slightly, almost setting the table on fire. However, you compose yourself. Thus, your flames ‘dieing’.
“We will wait for your mother to return,” You sigh, “Gosh you two are rowdy. No wonder why Bela is in charge.”
You ignite your flames once you stand, heading off towards the staircase. However, Bela follows you. You didn’t notice her presence until she grabs your wrist and pulls you into a room.
“Bela love what are you doing?” You ask
You try to get her to let go of you however, you stop fighting her as she doesn’t reply to you but only snakes her arms around your midsection, taking in your warmth that you were producing. Not only from your natural body heat, but your demon form as well. You were also sure that she was also listening to your racing heartbeat. The one thing you feared was giving too much heat, too much to the point where Bela and possibly everyone else you’ve come to love and care about they turn to ash because of your carelessness of your flames. 
“I... Love, I have to leave,” You sigh, placing your hand on her head and the other on her waist 
“No you don’t,” She counter argues
“I do my love,” You say, looking down at her, “I have to keep you three safe.”
“And you think we can’t protect ourselves?!” Bela asks
“That is not what I meant love,” You say, “It’s just... It’s just I’m not over what happened last time... If I hadn’t come when I did, you would have died... I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for that. I’d die if anything happened to you.”
Bela’s grip on you only tightens when you finish your sad ramble. This gets you in tears. You really couldn’t imagine the rest of your life without her.
“You’d die... For me?” She asks
“Of course I would love,” You smile, swooping her into your arms
Fortunately, your blue flames weren’t ignited enough to accidentally burn her. Your foreheads touch as you give her a kiss
“This is so much better,” Bela sighs in relief
“It really is,” You smile, “Thank you Bela.”
She kisses your forehead. You lay your head against her shoulder, hoping you could just stay like that for a little bit longer.
“Bela?” You ask, breaking the silence
“What is it my love?” She asks
“If this man... If this man scurries around the castle and hurts any of you,” You start, “What if I lose control of my demon form and I no longer see the human in me?”
“Simple, I‘ll get you out,” She answers
“What if you can’t?” You ask, worried now, “What if I’m the one who ends up hurting you?”
“Can you promise me one thing then?” She asks
You nod.
“The don’t use your full demon form,” She requests, “If you’re worried about hurting us, don’t use it. Should you though, I will pull you out.”
You had wished you were able to stay like that forever. However, you knew you had to begin your task. You and Bela give each other one last kiss before departing each others’ presence and embrace. Bela goes back down to the foyer to meet her sisters once more.
“You two okay?” Daniela asks, breaking the silence
“We are fine Daniela,” Bela answers
“Then when will the both of you just shut up and get married?!” Cassandra asks, clearly teasing Bela now
 “We are not-we don’t plan on that yet,” Bela says, “It’s never come up when we talk and we don’t need to yet.”
“Sure,” Daniela teases
As you were scouting the grounds of the castle, you already see Alcina returning to the castle.
“My lady!” You call out, “I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”
“Mother Miranda gave that man-thing to Heisenberg, of course I’m upset!” She groans in frustration, “I need a drink.”
You follow her back into the castle where her daughters immediately stand to greet her.
“Where’s the male foreigner?” Bela asks
“Mother Miranda gave him to Heisenberg that fool,” She groans
You all watch her walk up the stairs and disappear into the castle. You four seat back down into the couch, Bela leaning into your embrace. 
“How was scouting O-great demon king?” Daniela teases
“It was fine Dani,” you chuckle, “Are you just going to continuously make nicknames for me Dani?”
She nods as she leans back into the chair. However, before any of you could converse on, you could hear footsteps. You motion for the girls to stop talking.
“You guys hear that too?” You whisper
You motion for the three of them to follow you and once you get to the grand entrance of the castle, you see a man. 
“Looking for Rose?” Daniela calls out to him, taunting him
The three of them begin forming into their fly swarm and move toward him. You make the decision to tell Alcina herself that a man has entered the castle. 
“My lady, there is a man in the castle,” You sigh, “Your daughters are on the case. I’m not sure who he is- oh, speak of the devil, here they are.”
You hear the doors burst open along with struggled grunts. You look over and notice Cassandra and Bela dragging him in.
“Mother, I bring you fresh prey,” She says, trying to take the credit
“Oh, you are so kind to me daughters,” Alcina smiles, her daughters letting a slight giggle out of their mouths, “Now, let’s take a look at him.”
She stands up and faces him, “Well, well, Ethan Winters. You’ve escaped my little brothers’ idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”
You watch Bela, Daniela and Alcina taste his blood. You stand next to Cassandra as you watch.
“Hey-Hey you, help me out!” Ethan pleas at you
You turn to look at him for a second. You feel your human willing to help him however, you end up turning your back to him, not willing to help him. If anything, you also hated men. 
“Starting to go a little stale,” Alcina says, “But, I must inform Mother Miranda. Later, there will be enough for everyone. Put him up.”
You watch again as Bela and Daniela hook his hands and Cassandra hoists him up. You hear him groan in pain as you all begin making your exit.
“Hey... Hey you!” He again calls for you, “Help me... Please...”
You stop in your tracks and look up at him. You only let out a low chuckle as Bela gently grabs your wrist and pulls you out from the room.
As you were finishing something with Cassandra you suddenly hear Bela’s grunts.
“Hey, I gotta go,” You say out of the blue
You follow Bela’s voice, rushing even further when you could hear her voice getting louder and louder.
“Bela! Bela!” You call out for her
You pass through the kitchen and notice Bela on top of Ethan. However, she doesn’t notice how he’s aiming his gun. Only you had noticed.
“Bela! The windows!” You scream, “He’s gonna shoot the windows!”
Believing that she didn’t hear you, you ignite your flames even more so than earlier. But, it’s concentrated to your palms. You begin melting the bars that had separated from you reaching Bela. However, just before the glass had gave way to the heavy damage, the bars melted enough for you to burst through. You hear Bela’s pained scream as the glass gave way to the heavy damage. 
“You- stupid man-thing!” Bela screams
You only pictured how she was the last time she was out in the cold. You let out an ear-piercing roar as you forcefully push Ethan out of the way to get to Bela. Igniting your flames ever so slightly, you pick Bela up and begin warming her up with your flames and your natural body heat. You go back into the dungeons and place her down gently, hoping you had warmed her enough.
“Are you okay?!” You ask, tears welling into your eyes
“I am now love,” She smiles, caressing your cheek
“Go!” You say, “Get your sisters an get somewhere safe! He knows! I’ll come find you.”
You watch Bela disappear into the dungeons, hopefully back into the castle to warn her sisters. You go back to where Ethan had shot the window. He was hoping you’d feel pain with the cold however, when you emerged from the cold wind, you came out, unphased.
“What the HELL ARE YOU?!” Ethan asks
“The one who will kill you,” You growl, taking in the cold, “My blood’s boiling...”
Your blue flame continue to ignite more than usual and you pounce onto him, snarling in his face. He tries to use his shotgun on you and he manages to graze the side of your head. He manages to wriggle himself out of your grip and shoots at you again, this time, in the shoulder. 
“Stay down kid,” He says mercilessly and runs into the direction you came
“Get back here you coward!” You scream, trying to stand
As your body began regenerating, you continuously crawled in the direction he was going in, beginning to track his scent. It was difficult as you were in the room where the wines are created. However, it didn’t stop you from continuing on the path. When you fully regenerated your shoulder, you get up nd try to track his scent as best as you could. However, when you only got back into the castle.
“Bela!” you call
You felt a hand on your wrist as you begin getting pulled into a room. A feeling of relief washes over you as you hug Bela tightly. You look over her shoulder and only see Cassandra with her.
“Where’s Daniela?” You ask, in a panicked state
“She ran off, hoping to take down the man herself,” Cassandra sighs
You hear the door burst open and it’s Alcina.
“That man will pay for what he’s done,” She growls, “My daughter are you hurt?”
“I was but- thanks to Hydrangea,” Bela sighs in relief, leaning into your shoulder to warm up some more
“Where’s Daniela?” Alcina asks
“She went to the library to take down the man mother, we tried to stop her,” Cassandra sighs
“You two stay with Hydrangea until I return with his head and Daniela,” Alcina orders before leaving again
She makes her leave. The three of you sit on the couch, Cassandra and Bela huddling against you for warmth. However, Bela practically seating herself into your lap.
“Do you have to be such a hog of the human furnace?” Cassandra looks at her older sister in annoyance
“I’m her girlfriend so buzz off,” Bela says
“She may be your girlfriend but I need some warmth too,” Cassandra growls
You could hear Daniela’s pained grunts and screaming. You stand up and place Bela down onto the couch next to her sister. You flick your finger and a small flame goes into the fire place, igniting the firewood.
“Alcina hasn’t found her yet,” You say, “I’ll go get Daniela the both of you stay here okay?”
Once you left the room you break into a run towards the library. You break through the door just as Ethan begins opening the roof to let in the cold air again.
“STOP!” You scream, grabbing onto Daniela
Sorry Bela... I have to do this... To protect all of you. You four accepted me almost instantly... I have to protect my home. I’m not letting anyone die here! The only one dying is him....
The ground around you became engulfed in blue flames, surrounding both you and Daniela
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[A/n: not my gif]
“I got you Dani,” You say, the last time you heard your own voice
You look at Ethan completely deranged, more than Cassandra could ever look deranged at one of her “pets”. Ethan begins to walk backward however, tripping over an object.
“Let’s talk about this kid!” Ethan pleas, “From one human to another-”
“I’m not a human!” You spat, your demon voice overtaking your real voice, “I’m a demon! I protect my home and everyone in it!”
You let go of Daniela and leave her on the floor for Alcina to check on her. You throw Ethan out of the library. Alcina takes Daniela to where her other two daughters were. You throw him down a set of stairs. Coincidentally where Bela had opened the door.
You stand at the top of the stairs, looking down at Ethan, “You’ve overstayed your welcome... Time to say goodnight.”
“No-No please I beg you please I just wanted to find my daughter!” He screams
“All of this? For a child who isn’t even here?!” You mock him, “Your little baby could even be dead for all I care!”
Ethan draws his gun and pulls the trigger as a last resort to get you to stand down. However, you slice his arm off. You could hear his screams of pain as you now stand over him.
From the other room, Bela, Daniela, Alcina and Cassandra watch as you begin devouring his flesh. You stop after two bites out of his flesh you turn to the four women. Unable to feel your human, instead feeling your demon take full control over your body, you charge at Cassandra, Daniela, Alcina, even Bela. Alcina, being the protective mother she is, stands in front of her daughters, ready to slaughter you so if you lay a finger on her daughters like this. However, Bela runs past the three.
“Bela, get back here!” Alcina yells
Before you could lay a finger on them, Bela throws her arms around you, holding onto you tightly. As you flail your arms about, Bela still held onto you
“It’s me,” Bela says, calmly, “It’s okay now... I’m right here. Come back to me...”
You finally stopped flailing, your blue flames dissipating and your demon eye slits turning back into their round pupils.
“Be..la?” You call 
You gently place your hand on her head and the other around her. You sink into her touch and fall to your knees, Bela following your movements.
“It’s okay now,” She coos, “I’ve got you love. I’ve got you.”
You choke on your sobs as you hold onto Bela for dear life, sobbing into her shoulder.
“Bela did manage to get you out after all?” Alcina admires her oldest daughter, “And I thought I was going to have to kill her.”
Alcina sips her wine.
“Mother!” Bela growls
“I need to protect my prides and joys,” Alcina states
Bela was sitting in your lap as Daniela is huddled against your side and Cassandra on the floor facing you, Bela and Daniela.
“Do you really have to hog to the human furnace Bela? I’m the one who almost died,” Daniela growls
“She’s my girlfriend,” Bela draws the ‘girlfriend’ card for the millionth time
“How long do you intend on pulling that card against us Bela?” Cassandra asks
“As long as I want,” She smiles down at you
You smile back up at her, “Daniela, I also warmed you up in almost an instant with that amount of flames I emitted earlier. Did that not help?”
“Oh it did,” She smiles
“Then you don’t need to be complaining,” Bela scoffs
“By the way, I am digging the new look on you Hydrangea,” Cassandra says, smiling at you
Black horns with bright blue accents had remained from your blue flame horns or at least under them and a tail remained.
“Do you now Cass?” You smile, “I do too.”
Your tail unconsciously wraps itself around Bela’s waist. You could feel Bela’s fingertips playing with the fluff end of your tail, making your cheeks flush a faint pink.
“Awwww micul meu demon is blushing,” Bela teases
“Ssshut it,” You hiss
You weren’t sure how well you were going to do with that man-thing called Ethan Winters roaming around the castle. However, this was your home. You went to great lengths to protect it. Especially your new family and your girlfriend. Even if you would lose your human, you had Bela. You trust her enough to bring you back, should you lose sight of that human in you.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Partner
Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury
Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort
Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.
Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤
“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.
“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.
“And we can’t thank you enough.“
The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.
“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.
On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.
“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“
They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”
While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.
“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.
They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.
Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“
Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”
                                                               *  *  *
“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.
Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.
“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“
Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”
“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“
“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“
“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.
“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“
Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“
“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“
Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.
“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.
Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”
“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.
Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“
“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“
Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”
He needn’t be told twice
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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years
Note
I always think of like, the reversal of what happened with the dimitrescu family in the game, like all three daughters die, lady D goes absolutely insane trying to kill ethan. But what if by some miracle or smth ethan had managed to kill lady d first? I think all three of the daughters would go absolutely apeshit hunting ethan down and ripping him to shreds because 'you killed our mama'
And I dunno I was thinking about this last night and decided someone else should suffer with me
I’ve thought of this, too!!
After they kill Ethan they stand around their mother’s broken body in silence, unsure on what to do or say anymore. What was there to do without their mother to guide them?
Ethan’s body is burned. The flames devour his flesh in their stead. None of them can bring themselves to feast upon him for what he’s done. It hurts too much.
They bury Alcina in the garden, bundling up in several layers so they can give her a proper funeral service, despite the harsh Romanian winter. They kneel in the snow-covered dirt, drinking from her veins one last time. Her blood had never tasted so stale before.
Ashes. It’s all ashes.
They hang her hat on the tree her grave sat beneath. Nobody says a word. Tears freeze to their faces. One-by-one, they leave.
There is nobody to greet them inside.
Mother Miranda, Moreau, Donna and Angie, even Heisenberg come to pay their respects. They all say the same thing, over and over again: I’m so sorry for your loss. She was a great mother. She loved you all dearly. None of it matters. Not any more. Who cares if she loved them or not if she is no longer there to give them that affection?
Time passes. Alcina’s death is hard on everyone. Daniela spends a lot of her days locked in Alcina’s bedroom, curled up in the blankets, crying. Cassandra vents her despair and anger on the maidens, practically living down in the dungeon, torturing and slaughtering. Bela, as the oldest, takes up the family business, but it’s so hard, so fucking hard because she doesn’t know how to do anything and it reminds her so much of her mom and she fears failure severely.
The sisters begin to grow distance, as they’re rarely around each other anymore, all too busy with their unhealthy coping mechanisms. They can’t depend on each other for comfort because they can’t even comfort themselves.
One day, six lonely months later, Bela goes out and visits her mother’s grave.
“Hi, Mama,” she says. “I brought you some things.”
She brandishes a bouquet of flowers to the grave, as if Alcina were actually standing there and looking grateful over the gift.
“They’re roses,” Bela tells the tomb. She swallowed thickly, biting back the lump welling up in her throat. “They reminded me of you.”
She tentatively sets the flowers down on the dirt.
“I—” The words catch in her throat. She scratches at her neck with one claw, trying to muster up the will to speak. “I was thinking about maybe trying different mixtures for the wine.” She pauses, took a breath, then goes on, forcing out a giggle alongside her sentence, “It’s probably gonna turn out surprise gross, though.” And then, much quieter, wringing her hands together, “I wish you were here to do it with me.”
Silence falls upon the girl and the grave. Bela’s hands are clasped tight and she brings them to her stomach, imagining what it would be like to find absolution in her claws. She would plunge and drag and drag and drag until there was nothing left of her but shredded flesh and blood, but that would not be enough, not for her. It would not give her her mother back. It would not give her the shouts and the laughs and the boisterous cries at all hours of the morning and night. That was not what Alcina would have done if it had been Bela that was murdered on that fateful day.
But she wasn’t as strong as Alcina.
Bela doesn’t really realize exactly how loud she is crying until her shaking breath hitches so high it sounds like a squeak. She blinks through the haze of tears and scrubs her eyes with her sleeve, but the merciless flow does not stop.
A little brown bird lands on a grave nearby and fluffs out its wet wings. A grazing deer is munching contently on some wild flowers. Some type of bug is buzzing in the grass somewhere from behind.
Looking around at this all, Bela is shocked by how the world keeps running and running while hers had stopped its run not so long ago.
The summer leaves are dancing around her, whisked from the towering oak trees by foggy gales and sent into a whirling axis in the sky. A humidly warm, but also bone-chillingly cold breeze is trying to offer a comfort that seems to be invisible and impalpable. There can’t be comfort. There can’t be reassurance. The pain is still too loud, the wound is still too raw: her heart and her soul aren’t ready to accept that there is a reason for what has happened; her mind is still trying to distinguish between reality and fantasy, between the soothing effect of a false illusion and the harsh truth of a world deprived by its most beautiful voice.
“Why?” She wonders this so often, but there is only pattering raindrops and whisking nature replying to her, and that lack of words is an absence that stings more than she can accept.
“Why?”
She has wondered for too long but still nothing has come up and maybe it will never be answered because sometimes life is like that, a storm in the middle of a summer day and its lingering residue following her for weeks and months. Maybe one day she’ll stop asking herself that but, for now, it’s just all she can think about, over and over again.
It doesn’t make sense.
Nothing makes sense and it has been like that since she saw the sight, just a few flashes of images in a room, blood and gunfire and a collapsing body, that had stumbled down her life and shattered it. She can still see them behind her eyes, can still feel the way her own heart had stopped beating as a black void started to envelop her. She still feels like she’s down there, trapped in a nightmare that no one knows how to stop or break.
It doesn’t make sense.
There is regret in her body language. There is a baggage full of words that should have been said and things that she should have done. Maybe, if she had done them, nothing would have ever happened.
Bela wishes she could go back in time. She wishes there was a way for her to erase all those tiny mistakes she’s made, all those times she wanted to reach out but, instead, turned her head away because it still hurt. Her mother was—is still—the most important thing in her life and, yet, she let her slip away in fear of what she would say if she showed any signs of weakness. Her image is everything and yet, what is left now? There’s no image to defend, there’s nothing left because Alcina’s death has destroyed everything.
So she wishes. She wonders and wishes that there is a way for her to save just a few lives.
Her life.
There are still tears in her eyes. She wants to believe it’s because of the weather and the wind but it’s just a useless alibi. She lets them fall, not ashamed anymore because there is no one around to watch her. But she feels like a hypocrite, she feels like she doesn’t have the right to cry that loss because she could have done so much to prevent her mother’s absence.
To prevent her death.
She knows it’s the truth, no matter how many times people keep telling her that she’s done nothing to cause the incident. She knows it’s the truth, no matter how many people try to explain how, sometimes, she can’t save everyone. That bad things just happen to good people.
“I’m sorry.”
She knows it’s too late.
She knows that it’s useless because Alcina’s not there to hear those words.
Regrets don’t leave Bela, not even now that she’s standing in front of the consequences of her own ignorance.
It’s her fault.
She keeps telling herself it as if this admission of truth can absolve her sin. It’s her fault because she said she would protect her family but it was always so easy to forget about it: there isn’t ever the need to- she had always been the one that needed help the most in the family it seemed. She had always been the one fate had chosen to deal bad cards: her mental health, her perfectionism, those idiotic statements and those stupid decisions.
But then there was her mother. Her mother’s comforting words, gentle touches, light hearted jokes to make her smile—the way she would just…be there and make things better in ways that were difficult to explain to the world that had never seen her in private.
Why didn’t Bela do the same for her? Or for any of her family members?
“I’m sorry.”
Bela is sorry. She could have done more. She could have told her more.
She should have known better.
Bela should have known better, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to face the truth. She didn’t want to realize that her superhero might have been needing a hero herself and she was too oblivious or too busy or too afraid to be up to the task.
She depended on her mother and now she’s lost.
Alone.
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blackwidow-bby · 3 years
Text
A Case of You -Alcina Dimitrescu x Maiden!Reader
I’ve been wanting to write something based on the song ‘A Case of You’ by Joni Mitchell. Alternatively the K.D. Lang version is also very good and meaningful to me. Also who better to write with than really tall vampire mommy 😭
As always feedback is appreciated highly! Thank you for reading 💙
Warnings: blood, and smut (18+) little babies
🩸🩸
You had been polishing the silverware reflecting on the years that you had been in Castle Dimitrescu. 3 short but eventful years. At the beginning it was hectic, bouncing between all of the orders from the daughters and those of the Lady herself. Cleaning up countless messes left around as if they were guests in their own home. Clothes here, blood stains there, broken plates and cups everywhere. It had been as if your birth in the village was a curse, born to feel ashamed of poor class. A majority of the women that lived in the village knew that the only fate of their futures was to be sent to work for Castle Dimitrescu until the end of their days. Once the fair young women reached 18 that was where they were sent. Of course not all of them were so “lucky”. The rest of the women and all of the men were left to the struggles of the small village left to the devices of the surrounding lycans of the other lords. Or worse, kidnapped never to be seen again.
Most of the villagers rumored that those that disappeared were taken by the holy Mother herself and experimented on. Everyone knew what she could do, but for all of the bad sometimes holy Mother Miranda brought some good. One time before sweet Imelda lost her leg to a lycan attack, she saw the fainted mark on the side of its face. The same mark her husband had upon his face on the same side, before his disappearance traveling back to town. As she was dragged back safely by a couple farmers who managed to kill the sickly beast, the only sounds that all of the inhabitants could hear were her screams of her husbands name. Utterly distraught that she could become so unrecognizable enough to his dead eyes that in his transformation could still cause her deadly harm. He never had an angry bone in his body, but if that rumor was true, the experiment had created a monster of a once calm man.
All of your years weren’t as hectic as the first year. Eventually the lady of the house had taken a liking to your work. Always quick to come and cater to any mundane request her and her daughters had demanded of you. Actually now that you think, you can’t remember the last time any of your orders came from the daughters. They only came from the head maid or Lady Dimitrescu herself. A small quirk of your lips found it’s way thinking of your Lady.
Shortly into your second year she began to request you privately into her bed chamber. The first time she asked for you, you had been scared that your end had found it’s way sooner than you would have liked. Your heart was racing in your chest, begging your feet to be just as erratic on the way to her room. Somehow you managed to compose your pace but your heart insisted on faltering you. You knocked three times on her door upon arrival. You were unsure if she had heard, the doors of the castle were solid wood and although your hands were not soft due to the amount of work you were asked to do, your knuckles certainly weren’t hard enough to evade a slight throb from the hefty door.
Her voice crooned from with in, “Come in, my dear.” You opened the door to her chambers carefully as to not slam the wood open and not damage whatever might be on the other side of its radius. She smiled down on you very sweetly. There was something in here eyes. It felt almost like an admiration. You wiped that thought from your mind as quickly as it came. Why on earth would she ever admire you.
She sauntered toward where you stood and slowly lifted her hand. The fear you harbored for the Lady caused you to flinch at her movement. She had never laid a hand upon your person but that did not mean your time would not come.
Your flinching halted her movements. Her expression changed but only slightly. “My dear, I am not going to harm you in such a way.” She had lowered her voice in the close proximity of your bodies. You opened your eyes once more to see her gently place her soft gloved hand upon your head. Gently she moved it down by your ear and caressed the side. “Come to me little one.”
You followed her to her vanity. The space was tidy with neatly placed powders and lipsticks and other make up you had never seen any of the women of the village actually own. She sat down on her chair in front of the vanity. All of the furniture you noticed was made to her size in this dim room. None of the maids were ever called to clean this space, it made you wonder if she even used it at all. Maybe the Lady chose to take care of her own space in a way she knew no one could ever recreate or perfect to her liking. She hummed and pulled your hand to her. In her glorious size, she picked you up and placed you on her lap facing the large mirror. Your eyes shifted between her and your own height. Even perched on her Lady’s lap, your height was still shorter than her own.
Her eyes never met yours even as she slightly moved about to gather a soft brush and place it closer within reach. Your heart was still bounding in your chest trying to make sense of what was perspiring at this moment. The Lady removed her gloves by pulling one finger at a time until they could slip off smoothly. She then reached up and began to undo the clean French braid your hair was done in. She was being so kind and so soft with you, you were baffled. She started to unwork the three strands until she reached your scalp. You moved in tandem with the Lady as she reached again to grab the brush and began at the bottom of where your hair reached. Her ministrations were so soft it allowed your heart to calm. You kept your hands in your own lap, not daring to speak before being spoken to or move before being asked to move. Your Lady focusing solely on brushing the tangles from your hair allowed your own eyes to look about the space you sat. Her only task to groom your tresses, allowed you to get a good look at her face. Her lips and cheeks looked so soft. Her face wasn’t stoic but content in the space. She certainly didn’t look as nervous to have you here as you did to be here. Occasionally her hand would come around the underside and her knuckles would gently brush against your clothes back.
Everything she did was so calm and planned and relaxing. You took the rest of the opportunity to admire her further. Her raven dark locks meticulously curled in their places. Her hat always cocked to the side on her head, you wondered if it ever got in the way. She certainly never let it bother her if it did. The sudden speaking of her voice caused you to jump due to how silent it was seconds before, “I had been admiring you from afar for a while now. I’m sure you have an idea of why you had been called to my chambers after not being asked to before.”
Your voice betrayed you, you had been silent for too long. “Y-yes my Lady. I think I know why I’m here.” She hummed again. You felt the brush finally make its way to your scalp. The bristles were so soft and comforting they made your eye lids heavy. Seeing that she was done with her work on your hair, she placed the brush back in its spot and made eye contact with you through the mirror. She looked at you for a couple minutes more until she spoke again. “You’re always so quiet and kind around everyone here. My daughters can have a way with making the maids end up with either tougher skin or breaking their calm façade.” She was now running her fingers down the length of your back over your uniform. “But not you. You are still the same as you were when you showed up. Quiet and composed.” You weren’t sure if you should thank her for the compliment or be offended by being told that you haven’t changed. You felt like you could handle anything after the tortures her daughters could put maids through.
You could feel her hands moving back up your back and over your shoulders. Her cold slender fingers found your collar while the other hand swayed your hair over your left shoulder no doubt to expose your neck to her. This is it. This is how you end. What a lovely way to die. Her faced inched closer to your exposed neck and you could feel her breath inches away from the space. Your eyes couldn’t seem to move away from her though. You watched the whole thing and how her face never changed emotion. Everything she had done with you was in admiration. Like she longed for what you could offer her as if she didn’t have everything she could want in this castle.
Her face inched closer until you felt her lips press against the spot she was just eyeing. She lightly kissed you and reveled in the sounds you let escape. A chill ran down your body and found purchase in your stomach. You could feel the butterflies going crazy. Yes truly what a lovely way to die. You braced yourself when you saw her go to bite. Braced yourself for the white hot pain to shoot across your whole body but it never came. Instead the only thing you felt was pleasure. She continued to suck in the same spot for moments more. It all made you feel a growing knot down lower. Her strong arms encircled around your waist to hold you tightly as if you could slip away at any moment. You felt them hugging you tightly. The embrace soothed every part of you. You had never felt so cared for.
Unconsciously you noticed that your hands found purchase upon her own. Her face lifted from the crook of your neck, not a smudge to be seen or hair out of place. You could feel her lips by your ear. “I could drink a case of you, and still I would be on my feet.” She whispered and it made you visibly shudder in need. What kind of affect was she having on you?
“You must never speak of this with anyone”
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She requested you many more times and each one was just as delicate and sweet as the last one.
“You’ve been polishing that spoon for an awfully long time, dear.”
Your head whipped around at the Lady’s sultry voice. Your Lady, you thought. “What is it that has your mind occupied?” She questioned.
“Nothing my Lady. I was simply thinking of you.”
She smiled a genuine smile at you and reached her hand toward you. You walked up to her and laced your fingers with hers. Every moment you spent with her you cherished since the first. She reserved so much kindness for you. Internally she ached for the next time she would request you again. Thinking of the way your blood tasted on her lips. So bitter and so sweet. She couldn’t help but want something slightly different this time.
You both made your way to her private chambers once more like clockwork. She allowed you to enter before bending her way inside. You immediately walked over to her vanity as that was where she always fed from you right after brushing out your hair. You turned to her and smiled but she stopped next to her own bed. “Come here to me, my little love.” You walked up slight confusion on your face. “If any of this makes you uncomfortable, I want you to stop me. Can you do that for me, draga mea?” You nodded slightly. She sat down on the edge of her bed and reached her hand to wipe the wrinkle that etched on your forehead in your confusion.
“My little doe, you mean more to me than you could ever know.” She pulled your hand to her and moved both of you to the head of the bed. Gently she cupped your chin in her large hand. You closed your eyes and suddenly you felt her lips press against yours. Gods they were so soft but so cold. You reciprocated her kiss. Alcina had craved this for too long but she needed to pace herself. She has the rest of the afternoon until the night to indulge in anything your freely gave to her. You didn’t move to stop her and she took this as invitation to continue further. Keeping your lips pressed to hers, her hands roamed your body lower than just your back. She relished in the soft skin of your thighs and the way you felt under material that had softened from years of wear and wash. She couldn’t help but think of how your bare skin would feel under her own hands.
Your own arms snaked their way to her face as you cupped the sides with both hands. Your lips continued to move in tandem with her own letting soft whimpers escape here and there. Her hands grabbed the hem of your dress and slowly made her way up to removing the garment. You whined when she separated the kiss to completely remove the dress. “Are you still okay, little doe?” You answered with a small yes and moved to undo the buttons behind her own dress. Once the buttons were undone enough to slide her dress down you moved the sleeves down her muscular arms. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of looking how small your body was compared to hers. How soft and unblemished your skin was. All she wanted was to kiss every soft inch. Even the one side of your neck that she fed from ceased a single indent. She always made sure to feed carefully as to not rise suspicions.
She pulled you back into her slightly laying over you and began to kiss you once more as her hands roamed to your chest. She wrapped her hand around to undo your bra carefully to free your soft tissue from their confines. She separated once more to look at all of you that was exposed. The gods certainly took their time in creating such a spectacular woman she had thought. Her whole hand moved down to palm your breast lightly. She could feel the bumps raise and your nipple harder under her touch. You let out a little moan under her touch. She could spend eternity doing anything to hear your little sounds. Little sounds only she could make you release. She looked into your eyes creating the distraction for her hand to move to your underwear. You stared deep into her golden orbs never breaking as she sought out your core with her finger. Your breath hitched when you felt her slide down your soft folds and move back up to your clit. You were warm and wet and all for her. Alcina’s sweet little doe. She pressed a small peck to your lips then moved her mouth down to your breast that her hand had just been. She began to suck as she teased the entrance to your tight hole. She relished in the feeling of your most intimate parts and the sounds she could draw out from your delicious mouth. You were arching your back into her wanting nothing more than to be so close to her.
Your hands gripped anywhere the could. Her arms, shoulders, neck, hair. Everything she was doing made your brain go crazy. You did everything you could to find where your hands fit best. Her soft tongue swirled around your nipple while the tip of her finger pressed deeper into you. She was losing patience in having more of you and it was taking everything in her body not to devour before she was content you felt as good as she did all those times she tasted your blood. But damn did she want all of it. He finger pressed deeper until she was down to her knuckle. Your soft panting didn’t give any indication that you were in pain. She started to move her finger in and out at a slow pace to get your body use to the intrusion. Your panting grew louder and so did your moans. You wish you could feel this way everyday from this moment on. So cared for, so deeply wanted. Alcina kissed her way up from your breast to your neck. Leaving light nips and soft kisses near where she could feel your pulse quicken. He finger moved faster inside of you, pressing at your soft walls until she found that spongey spot that would surely get more sounds out. She had to take her time though.
‘Ohs’ and ‘ahs’ were all you could really get out along with all of your sickeningly sweet moans. Alcina never expressed out loud but she wanted you to say her name. Moan her name out from your lips, cry to the gods or whoever would listen that she could make you feel bliss like you’ve never felt before. No one ever got this much want out of her. She never wanted anyone the way she wants you right now. The way she’s been wanting you since you came to the castle. Her little doe unraveling under her half naked body. You were finding it harder to contain any noises and began to moan louder the faster her finger moved. All of a sudden curled her fingers, hitting that one spot. “My Lady!” It made Alcina hummm. “Tell me little doe, do you know my true name?” It took every fiber of your being to come up with an answer for your Lady. “N-no my Lady. T-the maids, they d-don’t talk.”
It was amazing you could come up with that through your haze. The Lady was sucking on your neck while she curled her finger more to get you to come undone the way she wanted. “It’s Alcina little one. I want to hear my name fall from your lips.” The knot in your stomach grew. You were getting very close from her sinful fingers buried inside your tight hole. Alcina could feel your Wales tightening around her. As she felt you get closer she bit down on your neck to drink from you the way she had truly craved. The knot broke and you came hard on her fingers, screaming her name to the high heavens. She continued to feed through your orgasm and once she felt your walls stop pulsing she lid her finger out and detached away from your neck.
You were sweating at this point. Utterly spent wrapped up with your Lady holding you tight. She wiped the little droplets that formed on your neck and pulled you onto her as close as she could get you. Your head rested there on her chest still panting. She would go to the farthest parts of the world for you. Hopefully she would have all of the time to prove it to you now.
“I could drink a case of you.” She whispered into your hair before placing a kiss to your crown. You mumbled a little getting more comfortable and sinking into Alcina’s chest.
Sleep began to take over you. “I would still be on my feet.” Was the last thing you said before slumbering in your Lady’s arms.
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