#avaskian caldwell

[the-insomniac-emporium]

RE8 HCs: Dimitrescu Family + Horror Films

Just some short headcanons for Halloween, about which kinds of horror movies I think the ladies would enjoy.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Favorite Sub-Genre: Monster/Slasher

Alcina isn’t a huge fan of horror, but if a movie features a female killer/monster… she’ll pay attention, for sure. Always roots for the villain, and might make quiet commentary about how the villain could have been more efficient.

Least Favorite Sub-Genre: Gore (splatter)

Tends to get bored quickly by “excessive” gore. It doesn’t scare her, nor does it catch her attention. She much prefers the real thing.

Movies I think she’d like: JENNIFER’S BODY, Friday the 13th (1980)

Bela Dimitrescu:

Favorite Sub-Genre: Psychological/Folk

Bela likes movies that make her think, so while she usually indulges in mysteries, she’s a fan of psychological horror films as well. They can keep her guessing, making her wonder what’s real and what’s not, and tend to have the kind of pacing that keeps her attention. Folk horror reminds her of home<3

Least Favorite Sub-Genre: Paranormal (of the religious sort)

Doesn’t particularly like watching priests give exorcisms or cleanse houses. Bela considers a lot of the sub-genre to be bloated with films that overuse jump-scares, and she has enough other films to watch to not bother finding good examples of the genre.

Movies I think she’d like: The Shining, Midsommar, Black Swan

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

Favorite Sub-Genre: Slasher/Gore (splatter)/Anything artsy

What can I say, our girl loves anything bloody, violent, and downright messy. On top of that, of the family, she’s closest to being a genuine horror film buff. She’ll watch just about any horror flick, but she has a definite preference for old school slasher films. It’s guaranteed that she’s quoted classic lines before making kills of her own.

Least Favorite Sub-Genre: Comedy (but barely)

Cassandra’s not against horror comedy as a principle or anything, but she just rarely finds ones that keep enough horror for her personal tastes. To be fair, she can also find humor in most films, if only due to her trademark bloodlust and sadism.

Movies I think she’d like: Nightmare On Elm Street, Jennifer’s Body, Saw (all of them), The Thing

Daniela Dimitrescu:

Favorite Sub-Genre: Comedy/Monster

Similar to her mother, Daniela’s interest in horror movies is subdued by her ability to inflict horror upon others. So, she watches them for the things that aren’t as readily available in her day to day life: Humor and romance. In other words, she’s had crushes on more movie monsters than she can count.

Least Favorite Sub-Genre: Any of Cassandra’s favorites

She just doesn’t want to have to pause the movie every five minutes to hear Cassandra ramble about the special effects, filming techniques, or various bits of lore the director revealed in future productions.

Movies I think she’d like: Cabin in the Woods, Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, Scream

Bonus!Avaskian Caldwell:

Favorite Sub-Genre: Comedy/Paranormal/Anything so bad that it’s funny

Ava loves dark humor, and readily consumes horror comedies. When xe wants a genuine scare, xe normally goes for something involving paranormal forces and elements of thrillers, as those tend to set off xer paranoia. One of xer favorite hobbies in general is making fun of bad movies, and this extends to the horror genre.

Least Favorite Sub-Genre: Slasher (but only sometimes)

Very wary of certain tropes that were common in older slasher movies, especially the whole “virgin purity”/”characters punished for having sex” thing. 

Movies I think xe’d enjoy: Dave Built A Maze, Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, Banshee Chapter

[the-insomniac-emporium]

A. Caldwell: Resident Lover edition

ayyyye it's ya girl boy creature of questionable origins! originally I was going for a npc version of Ava, like they were a side character in RL, but honestly this design could work as my version of the MC (because, ya know, Ava was originally a self-insert who rapidly mutated into something else heehoo) also ignore my typo on their title. forgot to double check and it's too late now

Avaskian Caldwell: Miranda's (other) impersonal assistant

Mx. Caldwell was originally a student at Miranda's University, studying for their psychology degree, with the goal of being a counselor of sorts for future students. The official report states that their horrific injuries were the result of an accident that occurred off-campus, while Caldwell was running an errand for the student council. As a result, Mx. Caldwell suffered a brain injury, resulting in an unusual (and advanced) case of dysphasia, as well as increased sensitivity to sound. They now communicate almost exclusively through writing, which is less impaired than their speech, and wear special ear plugs meant to limit background noise without blocking out nearby voices. Headmistress Miranda graciously offered the former-student a job at the University, as a groundskeeper of sorts. Or, well, that's the official story...

Although few speak openly of such things, the rumors around campus indicate that Mx. Caldwell knowingly got entangled in a Cult while trying to track down an old friend. Supposedly, they betrayed the group's trust, and were cursed in retaliation. But if that is the case... why would the cult keep them around? As an example, perhaps? The truth is evasive as always, and unendingly complex.

Currently, the idea is that Avaskian's childhood friend attended the University, got involved in Alcina's secret society, goofed up real bad, tried to blackmail her way out of it, and got added to Alcina's sculpture collection. Ava questioned her sudden disappearance, despite not having been in active contact with said friend for some time. Just like in their OG story, they followed the trail, running into one of the cult's more remote ventures in the process. That sets up the bit for Ava's cult design, which I'm still working on.

Eventually, Ava made it to the university, got an invitation, emotionally manipulated their way into the thick of things (also by being intelligent, fast-thinking, and perceptive as hell), and eventually managed to put two and two together about their friend's fate. While they were unable to actually save their friend, they were able to essentially mercy-kill her, freeing her consciousness from the sculpture. Unfortunately, that meant betraying Alcina's trust...

Which is why Miranda definitely did curse them. Ava can no longer talk coherently, and is physically incapable of saying or writing several key words, to prevent them from openly revealing the cult's business. Technically, they can talk out loud, it's just... mostly nonsensical.

"Tongue twisting thoughts into scrambled egg salad. A typewriter monkey bowling for alphabet soup."

So, why did Miranda let them live?... Well, for one, they might not look like it, but they're already, like, 87% dead. Again, per their OG story (which I'm trying to adapt as seamlessly as possible), Ava's health regeneration is incredibly powerful, but uncontrollable. They literally drink poison tea (thanks Donna) to periodically give the regen something to do other than filling them with extra sets of organs. Ava manages to be resourceful, effective, and can mostly blend in without others realizing their inhuman strength.

But I think the biggest reason Miranda didn't outright kill them is that, to a degree, she recognizes a piece of herself in them. Someone who is ruthlessly persistent, utterly set on their goal, purely devoted to the one they want to protect. Ava wasn't able to save their person, but their loyalty is admirable, and Miranda knows just how to redirect it for her own purposes...

[the-insomniac-emporium]

4, 7, 9 for Runnek, 11, 15, 16, for Ava and 22, 23 and 29 for Aveline! :D

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Okay, oops, got a bit long but that's okay! Putting it under a read-more for convenience<3

Runnek: 4: Is your OC good at keeping secrets? Yup! They had to leave their home at one point, out of fear that people would discover their magic (which is banned in most if not all of that region, not 100% lorewise tho). Ever since then, they've actively worked on being subtle about things. Redirecting conversations, intentionally seeming suspicious at the right time in order to draw attention to the wrong details (a friend hides to the right, Runnek nervously glances to the left, and the enforcer takes the bait, giving time for the friend to slip away), etc, etc. Ironically, Runnek doesn't gain obvious magic powers (or, well, powers that are obvious when being used, but otherwise don't make them stand out) until after they return home. 7: What song reminds you of your OC? Does it line up with what you think they would listen to? First two songs that come to mind are Heroes- David Bowie, and Nuclear- Mike Oldfield. Heroes was written about the Berlin wall, and how Bowie witnessed people kissing next to it, below a mounted gun. In some ways, that reminds me of the Zaun/Piltover conflict, and how Arcane's central characters are kind of torn between the two, with the conflict separating loved ones. Meanwhile, Nuclear is both about the devastation of war and the everlasting effects of it, which perfectly lines up with A: the trauma that Runnek + their friends went through (especially Jinx), and B: the fact that they pretty much lost their childhood because of what happened ("the abandoned child" is a recurring lyric). I think that Runnek would enjoy both songs, but would only go out of their way to listen to Nuclear. 9: What are your OC's goals for the future? That one sorta depends on which of the story branches they're following, which I have tentatively nicknamed "Daybreak" (siding with Zaun in the hopes of securing a brighter future) and "Nightfall" (siding with Piltover to prevent their darkest hour, or ensure they endure it). Either way, their goals are almost entirely consumed by their desire to help their friends, despite having been separated from them for close to eight years. Daybreak: Runnek wants to help Jinx recover- and once it becomes clear that there's no chance of that, they just want her to find some balance of happiness and safety. Nightfall: While Runnek was in hiding, Vi lived out their worst nightmare, stuck in prison, being abused by guards, unable to help her family outside. Now that she's back out, Runnek wants to stick by her side, and return the favors from their childhood.

Avaskian Caldwell: 11: Does your OC have any hobbies that they hide from everyone? Why do they hide these interests? After a certain point (post-Cadou, once they're essentially a member of House Dimitrescu and can actually leave whenever they want to), there's a 95% chance that they discreetly order tabletop miniatures from the Duke (some are made for any ttrpg, others are from war gaming franchises, primarily WH40k) and painting supplies. They don't bother to keep the finished figures super hidden, but none of the Gremlins (aka Dimitrescu Daughters) really bother going to Ava's room and actually look around. At best, the gremlins pop in to grab Ava, and swarm out before taking in the decorations. Ava never mentions it to anyone, but literally only because they're not great at painting, and they'd be embarrassed if Cassandra saw. Not that Cassandra would care. Ava just has anxiety, the poor babs :( also Ava used to beatbox, but these days it hurts their throat, so they don't do it anymore 15: What's your OC's morning routine like? For the sake of clarity, I'm interpreting this as "what your OC does when they wake up for the day", since Ava mainly works the night shift at the castle. First thing they do when they get up is pretty much dunk their head in cold water to wake up. Okay, not really, but they wash their face, clean the wound on their throat (which canonically never fully heals), and fluff their hair a bit. After getting dressed, they take a couple minutes to write in their journal, maybe make notes of their dreams. Early in their time at the castle, they'll check in with Cynthia (head maid) about their duties for the day, then grab a quick snackie from the kitchen and get to work. If they're part of the senior staff/honorary member of the family, then they have some time to spare for personal interests, but will likely check in with the gremlins about plans for the day. 16: What's your OC's nighttime routine? Shower first, most nights. If they know the following day won't be super intense, they'll go for a bath instead, and let themselves stay up longer than usual. Their hair tends to dry fairly quickly, but they do fluff it with a towel before going back to their room. During winter, it's not terribly uncommon for one of the gremlins to come to them for nighttime cuddling (Ava is essentially a space heater, and post-Cadou Ava also purrs and it helps folks sleep), which they literally never decline. Once in a blue moon, Ava will stop by Alcina's room for late night tea, or actively seek out Cass for cuddles (because the two of them are the most touch-starved people in the entire village).

Aveline of the Plains: 22: What is your OC's dream job? Is this similar to what they're doing now? Do they believe they could ever achieve this dream? At the point that Skyrim takes place, Aveline is in the very common stage of life where you have no idea what you want to do (in her case, specifically because she wants to do everything). She grew up in a circus, and participated in performances starting when she was only knee high to a grizzly bear. But she kinda wanted to do more, or at least try her hand at other things. I think, in the end, she would decide that adventuring really is the life for her- traveling all over the world, seeing new sights, trading help for coin and new friends. But she'd still always love performing, as well as her time at the College of Winterhold (where she taught illusion magic). Once she got older she might semi-retire, and work as an assistant teacher at the college. 23: Who would this OC consider family? What is their relationship with these people? !! Aveline was raised by a single mother, who later married a woman that Aveline fully accepted as a second mom. While growing up, several other families in the circus had children, and Aveline kind of... assumed that they were her family too. So she, an elven woman, has three brothers who are as follows: A lizard, a cat man, and a big Orc. Everyone treats them as siblings, and lovingly refers to them as "the wild ones". Though they're essentially her brothers, she still refers to their parents as her aunts/uncles (which often confuses people who meet her family, especially because Aveline always forgets to tell people that she's not literally related to these people). Further down the timeline, she starts dating Serana, and while the two of them never actually get married (Serana has some very deeply rooted trauma involving churches and ceremonies) they do consider themselves wives/life partners. Both of Aveline's mothers also express their admiration for Serana when they first meet her (pre-relationship, during very mutual pining), and outright tell her that she's always welcome in the family, even if she doesn't return Aveline's feelings. Technically, Aveline, uh, killed Serana's dad? But her dad was trying to cause a mini-apocalypse of sorts, and Serana made it 100% clear that killing him was the only option. He's also partially responsible for the trauma she experienced, so... Serana's mother is "alive" (also a vampire), tho, and owes her freedom to Aveline, so they get along quite well. 29: What's your least favorite thing about this OC? I can't stop visualizing her in a modern-day AU, wearing a tank top that says "suns out, guns out" and then being mortified when Serana (her vampire gf) sees her. No, seriously, every time I think about doing art of her, it's the first (and sometimes only) thing that comes to mind. Also she has such a wolfish, shit-eating grin (how did that phrase even come to be???) and it's great, but, like, really hard to draw right

[the-insomniac-emporium]

RE8 Ladies + Love Languages

While this isn't terribly long per character, I am putting it under a read-more for the combined length. Some characters have more details than others, partially due to how much I've written for them (and therefore had time to think about how they show their affections). For once the contents are not in alphabetical order. Crazy, right? PS there's a very, very brief implication of NSFW in Daniela's section.

Features the entire Dimitrescu family, Mother Miranda, Donna Beneviento, and as a lil bonus Ava.

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Physical touch

Secondary Love Language: Acts of Service

Examples: Constantly wants to be touching some part of her lover, even if she sometimes pretends otherwise, from hand holding to making them sit in her lap. So goddamn touch starved. Preferably sleeps with her lover sprawled out on top of her, weighing her down, soothed by the constant pressure. Seriously, this woman needs someone to hold her as close as possible, running their fingers through her hair, pressing soft little kisses along her neck + shoulder. And then repeat. Every single day. For life.

Treating her lover’s wounds, or bringing them tea to soothe their nightmares, or monitoring their health when they're sick (see: Bound Blood + We Don’t Talk About That). Cassandra hates feeling like she owes someone, and isn’t fond of others owing her (because when they pay her back, she might end up owing them “the difference”). When it comes to love, however, all debts feel paid as soon as they are incurred. She does things for her beloved because she cares for them, expecting nothing in return. Sure, she’ll complain about the effort, but it doesn’t really bother her, and she truly hopes her lover knows that.

Mother Miranda:

Primary Love Language: Acts of Service

Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving

Examples: Despite the decades she has spent as a Goddess, commanding the willing masses, Miranda doesn’t put much emphasis on words. Instead, she values actions above all else. She doesn't care if someone says that they are devoted to her, she wants to see the effects of that devotion. In turn, she much prefers to show her affection rather than voice it, even if it leaves her lover less sure of her feelings. One must keep in mind that she is the leader of an entire region, and the fact that she chooses to personally take care of something for you means a hell of a lot. Even if it’s just making you a cup of tea whenever she brews some for herself, or something as big as setting up a studio for you and your personal projects, or simply ensuring that your favorite meals are added to the rotation.

Similar, in some aspects, to her preference to showcase her love rather than announce it, Miranda takes pride in her ability to select gifts. She remembers just about everything you ever tell her, easily memorizing things you express interest in. Though she won’t make a big deal out of it, you’ll often find little gifts from her lying around, casual reminders of how much of her attention is devoted to you.

Daniela Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Words of Affirmation

Secondary Love Language: Physical Touch

Examples: What can she say, she loves to be worshipped. Having someone look at her with eyes full of adoration, one hand cupping her cheek, as they list a thousand reasons why they love her? That’s all she wants. Or sitting with her lover’s head in her lap, listening to them recite poetry that reminds them of her, while she runs her fingers through their hair. Ooh, or hearing them cry out her name like something holy as she all but buries her head between their legs. But don’t worry, she’s just as eager to return the favor, singing soft praises dedicated to her beloved. Admittedly, her compliments are sometimes a tad roundabout (so to speak).

“Mmm,” she’ll hum, “I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Living in a castle, my every need catered to, endless life, and, of course, the most darling little pet I could ever ask for. What more could I want?” Then she’ll pull her lover close, a kiss against their pulse point to claim them as her own. It’s impossible for her to determine her favorite place to touch her lover. There are little spots that elicit sweet sounds from them, then there are places where their warmth is a tad fiercer than normal, pure bliss against her own freezing skin. Wherever she touches them, it’s a silent declaration of her love.

Bela Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Quality Time

Secondary Love Language: Words of Affirmation

Examples: It doesn’t matter what she does with her lover, as long as they are together, in the same room if not actively pressed against each other. Any hobby of theirs is one that she’ll instantly take interest in. An academic at heart, she loves to learn, regardless of the subject, and takes endless delight in learning from those close to her. There’s something incredible about the feeling she gets when she gets a chance to show her lover how much she remembers, and she sees that spark of joy in their eyes.

Considering her fondness for classical literature, it’s no surprise that she adores using language to convey the depths of her affection. Whether she’s quoting Sappho or Shakespeare, she often relies on dead poets to express herself. In turn, she cannot even begin to describe the feeling she gets when her lover returns the gesture, especially if they go so far as to write something original for her. More than once she’s tried to craft her own poetry, but has found herself lacking (at least to her own standards). One thing she enjoys is memorizing poetry written by someone from her lover’s home country, assuming that they’re not from Romania.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Gift Giving/Physical Touch

Secondary Love Language: Quality Time

Examples: Considering the era in which she was born, it’s not terribly surprising that Alcina’s affection often manifests in less obvious ways. A hand on her lover’s back, guiding them along, or letting her knee touch theirs when they sit next to each other, or gently reaching out to give one of their hands a soft pat during quiet conversations. On top of that, she gives out gifts almost constantly. Oh, her lover very briefly mentioned enjoying a local artist? Well, Alcina will be certain to purchase several (or most) of their recent work. Did her beloved muse out loud about not having much jewelry? That won’t do! She’ll get them a large assortment, including plenty that bear the crest of House Dimitrescu. Everyone will know who her lover is, if only for the way that they are adorned with her loveliest finery.

Much like her eldest daughter (who likely takes after her mother), Alcina also enjoys the barest of interactions with her darling. With the endless stretch that is her potential lifespan, she knows that she has all the time in the world to learn new skills, or experience all that the village has to offer. Nothing warms her heart quite like the idea of getting to enjoy those things with the people that matter most to her- namely her partner and her children.

Donna Beneviento:

Primary Love Language: Quality Time

Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving

Examples: An odd mix of shy and calculating, Donna Beneviento is not one to rely on words, nor does she often take grand actions where others may observe. Instead, she works (and weaves) within the shadows. When it comes to love, she prefers to let her priorities reveal her feelings. Day after day, she chooses to spend time with her partner, regardless of the activity. If they ask for her company, she gives it without hesitation. She invites them to join her in the garden, or give input on her latest creations, and ensures that they are readily involved in just about every aspect of her life.

Being as talented as she is with crafting (both the overall art of doll-making and the somewhat related ability to sew all sorts of clothing), ‘tis not surprising that she also turns to gifts to express herself. From knitting hats in winter to soft blankets when her partner is sick, she provides for them in the easiest way she knows how.

Avaskian Caldwell:

Primary Love Language: Physical Touch/Words of Affirmation

Secondary Love Language: Quality Time

Examples: Arguably the most touch-starved person ever to exist, xer only possible rival being Cassandra. Struggles to strike a balance between hating being touched unexpectedly and wanting constant physical attention. Will give affectionate shoulder/back pats, loves forehead kisses/bumps, literally cannot sleep without cuddling someone/something (such as a stuffed animal). At the same time, a lifetime of severe anxiety has made it so that xe often relies on verbal encouragement from others to feel good/motivate xerself. Xe craves compliments, and defaults to poetry as a way of expressing love for others. One might think that being selectively mute might put a damper on this. However, if anything, it just furthers the value of xer speech. You know that xe cares about you if xe not only writes you poetry, but reads it aloud for you.

In true introvert/anxiety-riddled-bean fashion, Ava is also more than content to just chill with loved ones. Xe grew up in an admittedly fucked up family, but some of xer happiest childhood memories are of xerself sitting with xer brother, watching while he played through videogame after videogame, or sitting together on the big couch and reading. Years later, xe has a strong instinct to want to recreate those moments with xer new (slightly less fucked up) family.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

RE8 Ladies + S/o with chronic pain HCs

Type/cause of chronic pain is kept ambiguous, but some of the hcs might seem geared towards migraines, since that's the main thing that I personally struggle with (and these are very definitely comfort hcs). Features Alcina, Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, Donna, Mother Miranda, and as a 'lil bonus Ava. Not particularly long, but the combined length of every character is enough to be put under a read-more (About 2,500 words in total).

Alcina:

It’s difficult for her to know that you are suffering, but be unable to deal directly with the source of the problem. Chasing off unwanted nuisances or hunting down threats to the castle was one thing, trying to solve complicated medical issues was another thing entirely. If only she could tear your condition asunder without tearing you asunder.

That being said, she’ll still support you endlessly, however she can. It doesn’t matter how expensive or hard-to-access possible treatments are. If there’s something you haven’t tried, and are interested in trying, she’ll find a way for you to get it.

The biggest, and arguably most helpful, thing that she does is set up a space for you within her office. She spends quite a lot of time there for her family’s business, but doesn’t want to leave you alone on bad days. So this was her idea of a nice compromise.

There’s a very comfortable sofa that folds out, a cabinet filled with the softest blankets, and several pillows of a few different sizes. Servants are instructed not to interrupt Alcina’s work without good reason, but she has a couple who ensure your snack cabinet is always well stocked.

If there are certain environmental factors to your condition, such as sensitivity to light and sound, she does her best to reduce their effects. Lights remain dimmed (or she’ll rely on candlelight), her music will be kept quiet enough to be soothing, and she’ll refrain from taking any calls while you are with her.

Bela:

To think that Daniela once tried to claim that Bela would “never need to know any of that (medical) stuff”! Sure, there haven’t been many people who have needed (and received) treatment from her, but that didn’t mean the skill was useless. Admittedly, she doesn’t know enough to replace one of your doctors, or try to create her own version of a cure, though no one really expected that much from her.

Still, she knows enough to help soothe your pain. Obviously there are different techniques for different kinds of pain, and she does research before trying anything specific. Bela’s also aware that you’ve been dealing with this for far longer than she has, meaning that you probably wouldn’t be pleased if she came in, acted like an expert, or assumed that you hadn’t really thought about the most popular remedies. So she’s tactful with how she approaches things, always checking if you’re familiar with a subject before she tries to explain anything.

Bela ends up surprising you with a lesser-known skill of hers: Massage. Studying anatomy has given her a decent idea of the body’s more sensitive spots, and the rest she’s figured out through her own, ahem, experiences. Regardless of where you’re in pain, your girlfriend can help reduce your suffering. Okay, well, if your pain is more internal than external, it’s a bit harder for her, but she can still help you relax.

One of her favorite things to do after giving you a massage is to just pull you in close for some cuddling. Preferably you’ll be in her lap, with her arms around your waist, her chin tucked on top of your shoulder. Then she’ll do her best to whisper you praises, reminding you how strong you are, and that she’s incredibly proud of you.

Cassandra:

She’s, uh, not great at this. At least not at first. Maybe she’ll never be more than good at it, though. But she’s definitely trying! And learning! By Jove, that’s something, right?

First things first, she’s always ready to try to distract you, primarily through kisses and gentle touches. Fingers softly trailing over your skin, lips tickling your neck, featherlight in all the right places… It’s not inherently sexual (though it can quickly go that route if you ask), just intimate. It’s harder for your brain to process pain when you’re also processing pleasure, so there is some science behind Cassandra’s methods, even if she herself isn’t entirely aware of that.

While she’s not great with words, there are certain things that she manages to articulate well enough. For one, she makes sure you know that you aren’t a burden. Taking care of you- no, helping you take care of yourself- is a labor of love, if a labor at all. More than that, she knows full well that you probably don’t like feeling pitied, or coddled. That, over time, being sick ends up being beyond frustrating. She never wants you to feel like your condition defines you, or like it puts any strain on your relationship.

That said, she’ll avoid telling her family any specifics unless you do first, and ensures that the staff know how to accommodate you (without telling them why, because it’s none of their fucking business, and she’s their boss, and for fuck’s sake it’s their job to do what she tells them. Maybe she gets a lil bit overzealous with it). At no point will she ever complain about helping you, or otherwise indicate that your needs are “troublesome”.

At the end of the day, the best comfort she brings you is her presence, simply being near you, endlessly loyal, tireless in her affections. Especially considering she gets clingier the worse your symptoms get.

Daniela:

Hope you enjoy cuddling. Seriously. There’s nothing Daniela loves more than curling up with you, and that goes double for bad pain days. Some adjustments will be made position-wise if you need, but she’ll still hold you as close as possible, for as long as you need. Although she might eventually fall asleep (because damn are you comfy), she’ll play with your hair or run her fingers along your scalp until she eventually dozes off.

If you want a little more from her than light snoring, or if she feels like going above and beyond, or honestly just if she’s thinking about how much she loves you (so all the effing time), she’ll do something she’s always loved in movies/books: Reading to you! She’ll pick special books that neither of you have read before, so you can experience them together on your sick(er) days. Which does, of course, mean that it might take months to finish even a single one. Surprisingly, Daniela won’t even briefly consider reading any without you. Even if the plot is really good.

But, uh, if you wanted her to read to you on a day where you aren’t bedridden? Hell yes, my friend, she’s absolutely down for that!

On days where she’s too busy to spend hours upon hours in bed with you, or days where her ADHD is just particularly bad, she tries her best to leave you with a “substitute”. AKA a massive fucking teddy bear, in a reddish brown color, with a green bowtie. Custom ordered (The Duke did not dare tease her for it). There’s a heart stitched onto the stuffed animal’s chest, which features your first initial alongside a D for Daniela.

Additionally, she has a blanket she only brings out for you, which she periodically sprays with her favorite perfume. That way you can hold it close when she’s not around, as if you were cuddling her. For her sake, though, don’t hold the teddy bear or blanket too tightly when she is around. Homegirl here will get jealous of inanimate objects, even ones that she gave you.

Donna:

“I think I have a tea for this…” Damn right she has a tea for this. Donna has a massive garden, with dozens if not hundreds of different plants, including a variety of herbs/spices. At least one of them has to be a little helpful for you. Whether it relieves pain, helps you nap off some of your misery, or just distracts you by tasting bloody-well delicious! Besides, few things make you feel quite as loved as holding a cup of freshly brewed tea in your hands, knowing your lover made it just for you. Like a hug in a mug, it is!

Similarly to Alcina, Donna will also try to create a comfortable space for you, but isn’t likely to put it downstairs with her workshop. Instead she’ll let you take over one of the larger guest rooms, customizing it to suit your specific needs. There will be some easy to care for plants for decoration (ones that won’t mind potentially missing out on natural sunlight), a couple relaxing paintings, and a shelf near the bed with things to help you pass the time, mainly books.

Furthermore, she’ll do her best to keep you company as often as possible. She’s naturally a fairly quiet person, so you won’t have to worry about sound if that’s something you’re sensitive to. While she prefers using a sewing machine, she’ll do things by hand while you’re in pain, just to reduce the chances of you getting irritated by the sound.

Speaking of potentially irritating sounds… by god can Angie be difficult to be around when you’re ill. Thankfully, Donna is perfectly understanding of this, and, as the only person Angie ever listens to, makes sure to give the doll a stern talking to about your health. To your immense surprise, it actually works. You’re not exactly sure what was said, but Angie certainly becomes a lot more compensating afterwards. She’ll keep her antics to herself, and usually even on another side of the house from where you rest, but only for as long as you’re tucked away in your room. As soon as you set foot outside, her restraints are metaphorically removed. All hell breaks loose (as is her universe-given right as the physical embodiment of both Chaos and Entropy).

Mother Miranda:

If the two of you weren’t lovers, there’s a decent chance you would completely misinterpret her actions. She might come off as irritated, like she has bigger concerns than your health, you fragile little human. After all, she is a goddess (well, practically). But the truth is that she’s aching inside every time you have a bad pain day, knowing that (for once) she cannot cure your ailment. Maybe if she had infinite subjects with the same condition as you…

But, at the end of the day, that’s the problem. There’s only one of you. One of her beloved, her little human darling, so dangerously fragile in comparison to the scale she works on. Even with all the time in the world, which she most certainly has, she cannot cure you without taking incredible risks. With your life at stake… It is a gamble she refuses to take. You are hers, and while she hates to see you suffer, the truth is that she’ll always be selfish enough to let you endure on your own.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t help, though, just that she doesn't do a full-out experiment on you. Instead, she keeps notes. She’ll track your activities, bedtimes/when you get up, dietary habits, when you have pain, what you do to treat said pain, how effective the treatments are, etc, etc. All of this can be very useful in establishing patterns (a skill she’s gotten very good at, in her many decades of being a scientist), which can in turn lead to less pain days.

(For example, many people with migraines find that certain foods seem to trigger a migraine, or at least increase the chances of getting one. Though admittedly they don’t always end up cutting the food out of their diet. I mean, come on, you want me to give up chocolate? You want me to drink normal milk, like an adult? Kidding, kidding, I don’t have any food triggers. Nor do I particularly enjoy chocolate milk, nor do I dislike it.)

Moving on! While her work seemingly takes precedence over your condition, Miranda is not heartless, and she does do some things to lend you more direct comfort. Specifically, she tries to work in the same room as you when she can, normally while making electronic copies of physical documents, or while looking over the details of a finished experiment. She’s not always one for cuddling, so she won’t often get in bed with you during the daytime. But at night? Yes, fine, she will wrap her arms around you, maybe one of her wings too if you like how soft they are.

Just don’t think that she secretly loves every second. It’s not like she’ll spend half an hour whispering about how sweet and adorable you are as soon as you fall asleep, or anything like that. It’s twenty minutes at the most.

Bonus!Avaskian Caldwell:

“Oh, fuckin’ mood!” Followed by a solid thirty seconds of pure regret. Seriously, though, Ava has spent xer entire life (starting at age 10) dealing with chronic migraines. For a while xe also dealt with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), which meant lots of chest pain, but that (thankfully) faded as xe grew into an adult, as is fairly common with the condition. If anyone in Castle Dimitrescu understands unrelenting, unexplainable pain, it’s xer.

That being said… Ava never really managed xer chronic pain, at least not when xe was at xer worst. Xe had to drop out of school because of it. Hell, xe didn’t have a “real” job until xe was almost 23! Didn’t have a chance until things just calmed down for xer. So xe gets anxious whenever you talk about your health, worried that things are (or will at some point be) as bad for you as they were for xer. Other than that, though, you might initially think that xe doesn’t care, or didn’t understand the conversation.

Truth is, xe knows how absolutely fucking ANNOYING it can be to have to explain your health to every new person you meet (like the dozen different doctors you’ve met over the years, possibly every nurse who takes your pulse and thinks it’s a little bit high). So xe did a shit ton of research on your condition, in order to reduce how much you need to explain. Sure, xe will still have questions, and there are always aspects that only you can tell xer, but it’s a nice gesture.

As for helping you destress, xe’s pretty much a mix of Bela and Miranda. You’ll get plenty of massages (because Ava has learned from personal experience what sort of touches help with which sorts of pain), but also some scientific insight on any noticeable patterns. Lots of holding you close and telling you that you’re the coolest person in the world, and that Ava feels beyond lucky to have you.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 7

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: M for language, blood, referenced canon typical violence, death mentions, etc Warnings: Referenced injuries, death, and dismemberment. Also referenced cannibalism (because vampires). Summary: It takes a lot for Cassandra to admit how important you are to her- too bad that her announcement comes with downsides. A painful conversation, a monologue during a game of Go Fish, the soft side of a sharp edge, and fears for the future. Takes place roughly 12 hours after the end of the previous chapter. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter, 5.5 Family (Bonus), 6: What We Don't Say

7: The Things We Do

For the first time since your arrival at Castle Dimitrescu, you find yourself able to leave. Not forever, of course, with your bond to Cassandra softly demanding you return. But you’re still overwhelmed as you get dressed, hands shakily fixing the buttons on your borrowed clothes. Fresh air, you think, unfiltered sunlight, snowfall gathering on my hair. Will it be the same as I remember? Better, even? The thoughts swirl around your mind in a flurry, distracting you, pulling you away from the actions you take on autopilot. By the time you realize Cassandra has entered the room, her arms are wrapped securely around your midsection.

“Is it time to go already?” You ask, voice barely more than a whisper, leaning into your soulmate’s touch. “I need a couple more minutes, then I’ll be ready, I promise.” Admittedly, you needed more time to process leaving than you needed to actually physically prepare. But Cassandra stiffens up behind you, staying silent, and you turn in place to meet her gaze. One of her eyebrows perks up, though the rest of her face remains stoic. “Don’t worry, I basically just need to throw on a jacket, then we-”

“You’re not coming with us.” Wait, what?

“C’mon, don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, rolling your eyes and giving her a playful punch on her shoulder. “I know this is a family affair, but I want to support you and Dani. Besides, it could be nice for the two of us to talk a walk around the village, right? Sneak away for a few minutes while Dani checks up on her soulmate… like a mini date.” Somehow Cassandra doesn’t seem convinced. If anything, she’s even more tense than before, lips twitching like she’s running through a million different ways to respond. A beat passes before something clicks in your brain, and you’re sure you know what’s bothering her. “Look, Cass, I’ll be fine. My injuries are all healed up- minus the tiny scratch on my finger. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’ve already gained back whatever weight I lost while I was in the dungeon. As long as I stay with you, and trust me when I say that I plan to, nothing will hurt me. If it makes you feel better, I’ll even hold your hand the whole time we’re outside.”

“That’s not the problem,” Cassandra snaps, then flinches, clearly trying her hardest to reign in her emotions. Breathing deep, she takes a moment to collect herself as best as she can. When she speaks up again, her voice is strained, but steady. “You need to stay here. In the castle. That’s all that matters. We shan’t be gone for more than six hours. I’ll instruct Caldwell to stay near you, in case you need help entertaining yourself.” The way she talks, you want to believe that she has your best interests at heart. But her refusal to elaborate rubs you the wrong way.

“At the risk of sounding like a small child… why?” You ask, taking a step back and crossing your arms. A steep frown curves your lips, only growing steeper when your soulmate responds.

“Because. I want you to stay here, that’s all you need to know,” she ‘explains’, eyes narrowed. Although her tone screams finality, and her posture gives off an aura of intensity, her expressions shifts as soon as you let out an irritated sigh. Shoulders dropping, Cassandra summons as much softness as she can manage. “I don’t want you to leave. As soon as you walk out that door… I don’t want, no, I cannot-” she cups your cheek, voice close to cracking- “lose you. Alright? For once in my life let me be honest about my feelings: If you left, right now, if you took the opportunity to run and never look back… I wouldn’t react well. To say the least. Letting you come with us is a risk I cannot afford to take right now.”

Even with her claim of honesty, you feel her holding back, leaving words unsaid, already feeling too vulnerable for her liking. Everything about what she says stings- even her (implied) declaration of needing you. The restraint, the fact that she doesn’t want to give you a choice in the matter, not trusting you, not being past this sort of worry. At least your frustration melts away, the heat of anger dissipating to reveal a muddled mess of disappointment. There are a million things you want to tell Cassandra in the seconds that follow.

But all the words in the world couldn’t change the ache in your chest, nor make her feel the way you did. Blood bond be damned- emotional pain was a beast of its own, no name, no face, no luck.

“Hey, Cass,” you whisper. One hand rises to cover her own where it rests on your cheek. For a lovely, fleeting moment, she thinks that you understand. Then you pull her hand away from yourself, unable to bring yourself to flash your trademark smirk. “Go fuck yourself, okay?” Instantly her face warps into hurt confusion, despite the blankness of your tone, and she tries to reach out for you again. Instead, her hands grasp at empty air, as you shuffle towards the exit. You wanted to storm out, to slam the door, to feel your knuckles crack as you punch the wall, but the last hints of rationality in your brain demand otherwise. So you pause in the doorway, giving Cassandra a pathetically teary-eyed look. “This castle is only a cage for me if you make it one. Do me a favor and enjoy that fresh air, yeah? Feeling the cold burn the edges of your lungs will be the best pain I feel all day.”

-----

“Nope, no Heisenbergs. Go fish,” you say, bored as can be, watching as Caldwell draws a card, mandibles twitching ever so slightly. Gotcha, you think. Not that this game is terribly high stakes or anything. “Have any sevens?” Huffing, xe hands over the card xe had just added to xer hand. Based on xer reputation, you really wouldn’t have expected xer to have such an obvious tell. Of course, keeping a poker face during a game of ‘go fish’ probably wasn’t xer highest priority. Nonetheless, you crack a little smile, placing down your latest set. Can’t believe this cult makes their own card decks, you muse, noting the weirdly familiar emblem on the back of the cards.

“Wandering mind?” Caldwell asks, after a few distracted seconds. Honestly, you hadn’t even realized xe was waiting for you. One of xer spiky eyebrows rises, then quickly lowers, and xe quietly puts down the rest of xer cards. A moment passes before xe grabs xer notepad, apparently deciding that talking was too painful right now. Or, well, that was what you assumed. Cassandra had only briefly explained the butler’s condition, citing a mix of selective muteness and external throat injuries. In the end, it probably didn’t really matter. Whatever the reason, Caldwell soon handed you xer notepad, pointing out the freshly scrawled cursive. “If you’d prefer to do something else, just say the word. For example… it’s clear that Cassie fucked up, and I happen to be a notoriously good listener.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure that comes with the territory,” you jab, dismissively waving your hand. Why would I want to talk to someone who is so clearly connected to Cassandra? Chances are xe will just end up telling her everything I say, you think, scowling. Yet your gaze lingers on xer note, and your expression gradually softens. “I came here against my will. Took a wrong turn in a city that I thought I knew, found myself in a dead end. Before I could turn around, well, lights out. Woke up in a dark, damp cell, to the sound of screaming men. Any tens?”

Caldwell doesn’t hesitate. Just picks up xer cards again, glances at them, then shakes xer head. Once you’ve ‘gone fishing’, xe reveals a Beneviento from xer hand.

“Yeah, got one. Not everyone in the dungeon was as quote in quote ‘innocent’ as I was, admittedly. Some of them begged God, or Mother Miranda, for forgiveness, cried out to the heavens, promised never to sin again if the universe set them free,” you continued, passing over your Beneviento card. Somehow the game softened the horrors you recalled. “Nah, no Moreaus. Most of the people I saw down there didn’t say anything. Screamed, maybe, or otherwise expressed their misery when the sisters came for them. But I didn’t exactly get to know them, their stories.

“Sinners, saints, bastards or heroes, I have no clue. Any chance you have a two? No? Fuck. The point is that I knew I didn’t piss anyone off, or commit some awful crime, or do anything objectively ‘wrong’ to end up in that dungeon. So it doesn’t matter that I know at least a handful of people did. Because some of us were innocent. Sorry, go fish. As far as I know, most of us there could be wonderful people. And I saw those people get fileted. Watched Cass, Dani, and Bela carve into their flesh, tear at their skin, drink their blood. Gut them, then just wait for them to bleed out. Sometimes it was for hunger, sometimes boredom. Still have that Beneviento? Good, glad you aren’t secretly a magician. Or a cheater.

“When Cassandra put her knife to my skin… and I saw her feel my pain… I smiled. I don’t consider myself a cruel person- looking for an eight- but I couldn’t help but enjoy seeing her get a dose of her own medicine. Made me feel like shit, later, when I thought about it. Never wanted to be a sadist, even for a single day. Every time I looked at Cassandra, I saw the monster from the dungeons, and a future I wanted no part of. Then she went and showed me something more. Something softer. Comforted me, cleaned my wounds, kissed me. It felt good. Felt real, and right, like maybe the universe got this whole ‘soulmate’ thing correct after all. Kissing her made me forget how to count her sins, for a while. Shit, right, uh… do you have a two now? Still no? Ugh.

“Anyway, Cass and I have been getting closer, and closer, and I let myself start to forget about the dungeon. Then Dani goes and nearly freezes her ass off, finds out her soulmate got mauled by a lycan- whatever the fuck that is- but survived, and the whole family decides to go take a day trip to the village. Except Cassandra tells me to stay. Tells me that I have to stay, because apparently I might run for the hills at the first fucking chance. Sure, she says she needs me. She’s really goddamn proud of herself for admitting that fact. But it’s an insulting lack of trust, you know? And suddenly this castle feels like a cage again. Not as dark or damp as the dungeon. Pretty much no risk of getting killed by a vampiric asshole. And yet… Go fish.” Caldwell draws a card. Your eyes watch xer mandibles, though they do not twitch. “And yet I sit here, reminded of how this all started, feeling trapped, remembering that I’m the soft to her sharp. Is this how it’s always going to be? Am I stuck here? Will I stay here until I forget my morals, and the dungeon feels perfectly sensible to me? Can Cassandra ever be soft to someone outside her family?

“I don’t know. The future scares me. Do you have a Dim-” you pause mid word, eying your cards. Three Dimitrescus, one two. “Do you have a two?” Xe doesn’t. You knew that. A few seconds later you’re handing over your Dimitrescu cards, watching as they get placed in a neat set, out of your reach. “When this game is over, I think I know what I want to do next. Probably. Gotta ask, though, do you happen to have keys to the dungeon?”

-----

Whispers die down as soon as your footsteps echo through the dungeon, anxious voices growing quieter, only partially replaced with soft sobbing. Those within hear you, but expect your soulmate. Cringing, you step further into the space, desperately fumbling with a match in the dark. Before you know what’s happening, Caldwell has taken it from you and dragged it across the rough edge of their horns. The spark is faint, just strong enough to light the first lantern. Wordlessly, the butler moves away from you, lighting the rest of the fixtures with practiced ease. If xe has any concerns about what you have planned, xe hides it flawlessly.

“I swear this is even worse than I remember,” you mumble, looking out at the sea of hopeless faces. There are less live bodies than when you were last here, but there are still plenty of corpses hung up, in varying degrees of brutal dismemberment. It brings you no comfort to know that those are likely remnants from an experiment, as opposed to the Dimitrescu family’s idea of fun. After all… the reason that they rarely left corpses to rot was because they eat human flesh. Was I really ready to pretend that I don’t give a shit about this? At what point do I stop being a victim? Shaking your head, you turn towards the closest occupied cell.

Inside sits a scrawny man, covered in dirt and dried blood, muttering a prayer to Mother Miranda on loop. As you approach, his gaze follows your hands. Forgoing any attempt to comfort him, or explain the circumstances of your presence, you simply kneel down, extending a small cup of water between the cell bars. Hands shaking, the praying man accepts your gift with a bow of his head.

Moving to the next person, you can’t help but flinch at the state they’re in, uncovered wounds at a high risk for infection. They’ve been watching you since your arrival, and seem more curious than cautious. As soon as you pull a first aid kit from your bag, they inch closer, eyes wide yet hopeful. You don’t have to tell them to extend their arms for your inspection. Little sniffles fill the air as you clean their cuts, though they never recoil or pull away, regardless of how much the alcohol wipes sting. I am proud of your strength, you think, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying the words out loud.

Kindness was a gift best served in abundance, but caring words felt false and dry on your tongue, when you knew you could not save these people. All you could do was give them the smallest of good memories to cling to. So you finish wrapping the bandages around their arms, give them a respectful nod, then move on to the next poor, unfortunate soul. Across the room, Caldwell begins to follow your lead. Together the two of you do what you can to ease aches, lessen pains, and justify your existence. It’s a selfish desire that drives you to do this. A terrible need to be soft in the face of sharpness, to counter the echoes of Cassandra’s cruelty. You are not kind for the sake of kindness, rather your own sanity. Somehow that makes the pain that follows easier to swallow.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, as one of the ‘prisoners’ wraps her hands around your throat, pulling you close to the bars of her cell. The grip she uses is careful, positioned to ensure that you aren’t in any physical pain. Yet. “I get it. This is your only chance to hurt her, isn’t it? When she pressed her knife to my skin, and she howled in pain… I loved it. I laughed. I wanted more. Wanted her to hurt me until she knew how all of us done here felt. Does that make me the monster?” Just like that, the woman releases you, lips quivering, tears spilling from her eyes. You’re not sure what either of you have gained from this moment, but it feels significant, if only because you decide that it should be. “She’ll hurt more in the long run, this way. So will I. Something, something, balance?”

Stepping away, you return to your self-given tasks, burying yourself in a well of conflicting emotions.

-----

For the first time since you left the dungeon, you do not go to bed with Cassandra. There are a dozen or more guest rooms in the castle, and it’s not hard to find one that suits you, even if the emptiness makes a part of you tremble. The sheets are soft, yet cold. The mattress is large. Too large. But it’s what you feel you need. Sleep comes easier than you expect, accompanied by hollow dreams of endless hallways.

Maybe halfway through the night, something stirs outside your room, and you find yourself wide awake. Gazing towards the entrance, your heart nearly beats itself out of your chest. Someone on the other side of the door grabs the handle, starting to turn it, only to freeze in place. There’s no doubt in your mind about who stands just beyond your sight. Who else would stress over your company at this hour, unable to bring themselves to take the plunge? Nobody other than Cassandra.

Which presents you with a choice. Small, barely worth thinking over, but the start of a long line of dominoes. She’s trying to be soft, you think, does that mean it’s my turn to be sharp? Fuck this. Soft begets soft, or whatever. Sighing as dramatically as you can manage, you throw yourself out of bed, all but jogging to open the door. Seeing Cassandra makes another spark of anger light up your chest, though it dies as soon as you see the familiar glint of tear stains on her cheeks. Before she can say anything, you put a hand up, needing to set some ground rules.

“Look, I’m still fucking pissed. I can’t even bring myself to explain it- not right now, not to you. But you’re still my soulmate. And sometimes you’re soft. And fuck, that confuses me more than anything… I need time to think. So if you want to talk? Leave,” you explain, gesturing into the hallway. “But if you just need someone to keep you warm tonight, a reminder that I don’t intend to just walk away, then alright. Come in, put your arms around me, and deal with the fallout in the morning.”

When she picks the latter option, you can’t help the flood of warmth in your chest.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 6

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Being soft with Cassandra has never been easier- but where the hell is Daniela? References the bonus chapter, but technically doesn't require reading it. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter, 5.5 Family (Bonus)

6: What We Don't Say

A hiss slips past your teeth as you recoil, pulling your hand close to your chest, away from the source of your pain. Though the wound stings, it takes several seconds for the first drop of blood to rise to the surface. Closer examination reveals something akin to a paper cut; although it’s a fair bit worse than one. Nothing bad enough to require more than a bandage, thankfully, but the sort of injury that would undoubtedly irritate you for several days. On top of that, it was just enough pain to catch the attention of a certain someone: Your soulmate, Cassandra.

“What the fuck did you do this time?” She calls from across the room, glancing up from her canvas to shoot you a stern look. For once, she doesn’t bother hiding the traces of concern in her expression, instead opting to layer them with judgment. In response, you gesture roughly to the folders you had been poking through. “Ah, of course, you’ve been vanquished by a rough edge. It’s a wonder that you survived long enough to come here.”

“Then it’s a great thing that I’m here now, with such a lovely, admittedly-very-hot, badass soulmate to protect me,” you reply, tongue in cheek, popping open the room’s first aid kit as you do. I don’t mean to hurt you, you think, I don’t want to hurt you, and the words rest on the edge of your lips, not quite daring enough to take the plunge. Pain may be the first chain linking the two of you together, but it was the hardest to rely on.

“Keeping you safe is a full time job, love,” Cassandra replies. Teasing undercurrents run throughout her words, mixed in with a healthy dose of affection. Pausing your bandaging to glance up at her, you see that her cheeks are tinted pink, just like your own. Deciding not to stay vulnerable for too long, she tosses in a quick addendum. “I might need to tie you up, though, if I really want to keep you out of trouble.”

“Oh? Just to keep me safe? No alternative motives?” You asked, sticking your tongue out, uninjured hand raised in a v-shape in front of your mouth. Next thing you know, a rush of movement crosses your vision, and Cassandra is tucking a finger under your chin. Eyes locked with each other, your lips trembling while hers curl into a smirk. It was always so easy for her to turn the tables on you. “Something on your mind, babe?” Before she can respond, a rush of courage convinces you to give her a gentle kiss. Her arms shift to wrap around you, keeping you in a relaxed grip, holding you close until she’s satisfied.

When at last she pulls away, her smirk has only grown. Without another word she returns to her canvas, walking as opposed to swarm-jumping, knowing full well that your eyes would catch the sway of her hips. For a sadistic, blood-drinking weirdo, she’s unbelievably attractive, you muse. This whole ‘blood bond’ thing isn’t so bad after all.

After a moment your mind wanders, thinking back to your youth, remembering what it was like to be left wondering. Months without feeling anything from your soulmate- over a year, once. Now it made sense. Someone like Cassandra was tougher than you could have ever imagined, almost impossible to injure, agile enough to avoid the few things that could hurt her. It was strange to think that she had countless reminders of your existence, and yet you had often worried that she was little more than a figment of your imagination. Not that you blamed Cassandra for your paranoia.

“Maybe sharing pain isn’t so bad,” you mumble, more to yourself than your soulmate. There’s more you want to say, more that you mean, but you’re barely paying enough attention to realize what you have/have not said out loud. An aching wound is better than an aching, lonely heart, you think, lips twitching along to the thought. Am I actually glad that I came here? After what I saw in the dungeon? For the first time in over a week, a shadow of doubt creeps over your mind. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cassandra glance your way, as if noting the subtle shift in your demeanor. But neither of you say another word; not until you receive a visitor, at least.

No knock announces her arrival, yet you know perfectly well that Lady Dimitrescu draws near, as her unmistakable footsteps grow louder, before coming to a halt outside the studio entrance. A twinge of sympathy rises up in your chest as you watch her duck through the doorway, practically having to bend halfway over to fit. That sympathy ramps up a hundred degrees when you see the look on her face. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her lips are drawn tight together, stress lines marking her forehead. For someone normally so well controlled (at least from your perspective), it was incredibly jarring to see her this way.

“Mother?” Cassandra asks, rising to her feet, equally as concerned as you. In a flash she’s swarm-jumped past you, reaching out for her mother’s hand. “What’s the matter?” Without even thinking about it, you stand up as well, needing to support your soulmate, even if you had as little idea of what was going on as she did (possibly less so). Lady Dimitrescu spares you a brief glance- the tiniest of nods accompanying it- before addressing her daughter.

“When was the last time you saw Daniela?” She asks. When Cassandra looks unsure, and gives nothing more than a shrug, Alcina closes her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. “None of the servants have seen her since the night shift started. Caldwell hasn’t returned from her ‘session’ with Mother Miranda yet, and Bela has spent the day tucked away in her study. Are you absolutely certain that you haven’t seen your sister?” Oh fuck, you think, I knew I shouldn’t have let her go so easily. Of course you had to be the last person to see Daniela. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you step forward, hesitantly making eye contact with Alcina.

“Okay so please don’t be mad at me for saying this, because this might be a big deal but I didn’t realize it was a big deal at the time, therefore it’s definitely not my fault or anything,” you ramble, admittedly far more afraid of Lady Dimitrescu than you had ever been of her daughters. Thankfully, Cassandra takes your hand in her own, silently offering you support (albeit with a somewhat amused expression). “I saw her about six hours ago, give or take half an hour. She said she was going for a walk, and didn’t want any company. I… kinda just figured that she wanted some time to think about her soulmate. ‘Thought she’d be back by now.”

“What?” Alcina growls, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, barely containing her anger. To your surprise, however, she doesn’t seem to be directing her rage at you. Even Cassandra, who seems ready to break into a swarm at any second, gives you a rather gentle hand squeeze. “The weather has been getting progressively worse all day, If she doesn’t get home soon…” Alcina trails off, exchanging a knowing look with Cassandra. Something between them remains unsaid, the sort of thing you clearly aren’t allowed to understand, a secret integral to this dilemma.

“We need to send a crow to the other districts, to see if anyone has eyes on her. Unless we hurry, the storm may arrive before we get a response,” Cassandra insists, all but teleporting out of the room as soon as she gets a nod of approval. Suddenly you’re left alone with Lady Dimitrescu, who turns her steely gaze to you, ignoring the way you visibly shudder at her attention.

“Please go to the main entrance, light the fireplace, and gather the blankets. If my daughter returns, summon me immediately, understood? I will be making phone calls to the few other landlines in the village,” she instructs, tone equally balancing command and restraint. Technically she wasn’t ordering you, but you weren’t about to refuse, considering the circumstances. Without further ado you give her a nod, heading out the door a moment later. Waiting around will suck, you think, but someone will need to do it. It would be ridiculous if she got home, and we were all still running around looking for her. Besides, if she’s hurt… Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you try to focus on your movements, not daring to think about what might be happening to your soulmate’s sister.

-----

You’re halfway done gathering blankets when the front doors burst open, sending waves of chill and snow cascading into the castle. A flurry of white temporarily blinds you, and you can barely make out a monstrously unfamiliar silhouette in the entranceway, before a piercing howl tears through the air. Goosebumps overtake your skin from sound and cold alike, even as the doors are roughly pushed closed. Stumbling backwards, you stare up at the thing in front of you, almost too scared to notice the figure slung over its shoulder. But you recognize her in an instant, and instinctively reach out for her.

“Dani? What the fuck?” Your words are quickly ignored by the lumbering beast, which seems to be an odd mix of canine and reptile, though it seems to mean you no harm. As if holding a fragile sculpture of porcelain, it painstakingly lifts Daniela’s barely conscious body from its shoulder. She practically whimpers in response, attempting to cling to its fur, but stops protesting as soon as she feels the warmth from the fireplace. Realizing that this ‘monster’ was likely a family friend, you opt to help as best as you can. “Can you hear me, Daniela? How are you holding up?”

“Exhausted,” Daniela whines, though she eagerly accepts the blankets you offer her. An odd discoloration covers a couple of her limbs and one side of her face, almost crystalline in nature, but it starts to fade just as soon as you take notice. “Where’s mother? I need mother,” she groans. Before you have a chance to respond, the beast next to you scares the daylights out of you. By talking.

“She’ll be here. Never ignores my call,” it says, voice like gravel, mandibles clicking together. As if on cue, the sound of heels clacking against tile reaches your ears. Then a buzzing approaches, louder than you would have expected, announcing the arrival of Daniela’s siblings. They practically crash into her as they retake solid form, both Bela and Cassandra looking her over for any obvious injuries.

“What were you thinking? Leaving the castle without telling anyone, staying out in the coldest weather we’ve had in months? You could have died!” Bela snapped.

“Don’t bother, Bela,” Cassandra interjects, barely managing to twist her worry into a snarled insult, “Daniela wasn’t thinking at all, clearly.” While her words are harsh, you see the way she latches onto her sister, holding her as if she might vanish at any moment. “Never scare us like that again.” Another sentence dies on the tip of her tongue, abandoned at the sight of her mother rushing down the stairs. Stepping out of the way, you watch as Daniela stumbles to her feet, eager for the comfort of her family. Despite all the banter, they really do love each other, you think, smiling softly.

“Thank the Mother that you’re alright,” Lady Dimitrescu cries out, more emotion in her voice than you had ever heard from her before. Then she’s scooping Daniela up into her arms, blanket and all, holding her as close as physically possible. It seems to take her an incredible amount of willpower to divert her attention for even a single second. Still, she turns her head to look a bit past you. “Caldwell, thank you. I have incurred yet another debt to you, it seems.” From behind you, you hear the rustling of fabric, and turn just in time to see a far less monstrous looking individual take a bow.

Their skin is the same light blue as the earlier figure, mandibles still guard the side of their mouth, and their hair is the same shade of silver (as well as looking just as feral as before). This family is never going to run out of surprises, is it? Might as well get used to it, you think.

“For once,” Caldwell says, slowly, as if each word brought with it intense pain, “I understand Lady Daniela’s reasoning.” At that, everyone turns to the woman in question, waiting for the inevitable explanation. To your surprise, Daniela’s lips curl up into a grin, and she practically beams with pride.

“I found my soulmate!”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language, implied cannibalism (because Vampires)

Warnings: Aforementioned implied cannibalism

Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate.

Notes: Features a cameo of sorts for my OC, Avaskian Caldwell. Not beta read.

Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants, 2: Uncertain Destinations

3: Eat Your Heart

“Well,” Bela says, only moderately sounding hostile, “I do believe that marks the end of our tour. Unless you would like to see the dungeons? Perhaps get a proper look at where you might end up, hmm?” Resisting the urge to roll your eyes is more difficult than you would have preferred. Somehow you manage, though, and reply in a relatively relaxed tone.

“I think I’ll have to pass. After all, I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner, now would I?” You incline your head towards a nearby clock to emphasize your point. For a split second Bela seems surprised, as if she hadn’t been keeping track of time at all. But the look vanishes as quickly as it came about, soon replaced with a calculating gaze, and she gives a short nod. “Is it safe to assume that you eat together, as a family?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a small look of confusion. “Mmm, sounds wonderful. It’s been far too long since I’ve shared a nice family meal.”

That certainly wasn’t what Bela had expected you to say.

“Oh? I do hope that you can stomach the sight of blood, then. Otherwise it might not feel so nice,” she replies, after a slight pause. Her earlier confidence had returned, further bolstered by the resulting giggles from her sisters. They were a chaotic bunch. Regardless, Bela soon takes your wrist in her hand, pulling you towards the dining room, grip only tight enough to be slightly uncomfortable. Both of her siblings followed closely behind, occasionally whispering unintelligible jokes to one another. One in particular leaves Daniela pausing in the hallway, hunched over laughing, with an unnerving edge of something else you couldn’t quite place. A backwards glance in her direction leads you to make eye contact with Cassandra, who gives you a knowing smirk. Deciding that you didn’t want to know what she had said, you turned back towards Bela, and stayed facing that way until you reached the dining hall.

Inside, Alcina was already sitting at the head of the table, in a chair that would have seemed a throne to anyone else. On either side of her are two more seats, far less ornate than her own. For a moment the sisters and you hesitate in the entranceway. Evidently they weren’t accustomed to this particular arrangement, unsure where to sit. It’s not until Bela clears her throat that Alcina speaks up.

“On my left, dear,” she says, eying her eldest daughter, before turning to you. “You may sit to my right. I trust that you’ll find this agreeable?” Well, you weren’t exactly about to argue with her, so yes, you found it agreeable. Even if it meant sitting across from the more ‘direct’ member of your opposition. Though perhaps ‘judge’ and/or ‘jury’ was a better word for the Dimitrescu daughters. Regardless, you were going to have to sit with them, and in the end it hardly mattered who was where. As such, you semi-awkwardly made your way to your seat, hoping that you’d eventually feel less out of place. Soon enough Cassandra takes the spot next to you, giving you a concerning smirk as she does. What did she have planned? Before you can even contemplate her intentions, her mother is talking again, drawing both of your attention towards herself. “Splendid. I’m glad to see that you’re already finding your place here.”

It’s not hard, you think, when you’re directing my every step. Despite your biting internal commentary, you do not speak out loud, merely giving a polite smile and nod. Across from you, Bela gives her mother an affectionate expression before fixing you with a subtle disapproving look. Taking some small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t being openly hostile, you forced yourself to keep smiling, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as you can muster. Within moments both of you have your attention drawn elsewhere, thankfully, as servants begin carrying in various food platters. Most of the dishes appeared to be perfectly normal. But looks could be deceiving, and you knew that at least a handful had to contain less “traditional” ingredients. They remembered to cook something normal for me, right?

Soon enough your fears are somewhat alleviated, as one of the servants places an already filled plate in front of you. Admittedly you don’t recognize xer, despite xer oddly silver hair, or the red bandana xe wore. Something told you that xe wasn’t just another maiden, however, especially with the way xe brazenly made eye contact with each of the Dimitrescus. Before you could inquire about xer, you’re distracted by the arrival of Juniper, who instantly smiles when she sees you. In her arms she carries the last two side dishes and several empty plates, which the unknown servant gently takes from her. Together the two of them set the final items into place. Wordlessly, the grey-haired person removes a notebook from xer back pocket, handing it to Juniper with the barest sliver of a smile. Clearly having done this more than once, she accepts it readily, opening it to a bookmarked page.

“My Ladies, and our dearest, most esteemed guest, I present to you another fine selection of traditional Romanian dishes, for your sincere enjoyment. Today we will be drinking one of our more popular styles of wine, known as Febris Amatoria, meaning ‘fever of love’ in Latin,” she reads, only somewhat shakily. Next to her, the stranger inclines xer head to your employers, then does the same to you. At this point you have to assume that xe doesn’t speak, and that Juniper was serving as a translator of sorts. “Due to the unexpected nature of our guest, the dishes are not clearly marked in regards to their ingredients. You have my- as in Mx Caldwell- assurance that this will be handled by the next standard mealtime, where the shared dishes will be color coded. In the meantime, I- again, Mx Caldwell- will remain here, in order to prevent any… unintentional ingestion of human remains.” Gulping, Juniper returns the notebook to the stranger (Caldwell, apparently), then exits the room alongside the other servants.

“Isn’t Febris Amatoria also another name for a type of anemia?” Bela asks, slowly swirling the contents of her glass as she does. Caldwell, who had moved to stand several feet behind Alcina, gives a nod in response, and appears mildly amused.

“A clever allusion to our family’s nature, isn’t it? I know Daniela has certainly drained a number of ‘lovers’ over the years, perhaps causing a case or two,” Cassandra teases, much to her younger sister’s irritation. Personally you were surprised that she was willing to admit such a thing in front of her mother. Unless you were reading too much into the word ‘lovers’, due to the rumors you had heard regarding Lady Daniela. Nonetheless, the Lady in question is aggravated enough to sit up, looking ready to lunge across the table at Cassandra. As soon as Daniela moves (with frightening speed), her sister easily catches her wrist, using her other hand to wave a finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah, Dani, we have a guest. Do try to behave yourself.”

“Oh, because you’re the epitome of table manners? I’m amazed you haven’t already managed to spill wine all over your dress,” Daniela counters, before ripping her arm away from Cassandra. They both huff, but are quick to quiet down when their mother sends them a look. “Dinner looks delectable, as usual, Ava,” Daniela continues, after clearing her throat, accentuating the end of her sentence with a gesture of her wine glass. Then she takes a long drink from it, perhaps thinking that a little intoxication might make the evening easier to get through. Deciding that maybe she had the right idea, you take a sip from your own glass, relishing the subtle hint of lavender.

In the minutes that follow, things slide into easy comfort. Caldwell once more moves closer to the table, helping pass along side-dishes from person to person, quietly pointing out which ones you could safely consume, occasionally chuckling in response to the jokes that the daughters shared. A strange warmth built itself up within the center of your chest, heart yearning for age-old memories of your own family. Three months had passed since the last time you felt this way. Really, it felt so much like family that you didn’t catch the way Cassandra’s lips twitched into a smirk, or the way she met Bela’s gaze, or the way she pushed a dish just a tad further towards you than necessary. All it had taken was a single second of your gaze turned elsewhere… then you were reaching for the castle’s special variety of forbidden fruit.

“Ayye, nyet, nyet!” Caldwell snaps, voice oddly strained, hand wrapping around your wrist in an instant. All eyes are on you now, though Alcina’s soon flicker over to the servant. “Cass. Bad girl,” xe continues, going so far as to shake xer finger disapprovingly. Understandably, you’re rather shocked to see a butler be so bold with someone so dangerous. Even more shocking is the way that Cassandra backs down without a hint of a fight, refusing to meet her mother’s steely gaze, not even pretending that she hadn’t attempted to trick you. Satisfied with this outcome, Caldwell wordlessly fades back into the background.

Although you had almost committed an unwilling act of cannibalism, you managed to slowly relax again, content to listen in on (but not participate in) the conversations around you. ‘Twas somewhat awkward, admittedly, to be the odd one out in a family so close. Yet a part of you had gained a new sense of hope by meeting Caldwell. After all, if a human such as xerself could become so close as to chastise Cassandra of all people, why couldn’t you?

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

“Once again, I would like to… apologize, on behalf of my daughters,” Alcina says, rather softly, still keeping a gentle hand on your back to guide you along. “I must admit, I do not wish to dwell on what might have happened if not for Avaskian.”

“Believe it or not, I think I actually understand where they’re coming from. Though, of course, I am also grateful for Caldwell’s intervention. But really… your family has been together for several decades now, right? Any addition is guaranteed to stir things up,” you respond with a shrug. “Besides, I’m more than aware that I don’t exactly stand at the same level as your other romantic interest.” Suddenly both of you are halting in the middle of the hallway, unable to meet each other’s gaze, regret rumbling like butterflies in your stomach. You hadn’t intended to bring up your soulmate’s somewhat obvious affections for Mother Miranda.

“Hmm. So you are… aware of that,” Alcina murmurs, finally turning her head to look down at you. There’s no small amount of pain in her eyes, though you can tell she’s holding as much of it in as possible. “I would prefer it if we did not speak of this. I do hope you have no qualms with that.” For once, there is no hint of force or commanding edge to her tone. For once, she is letting you act as an equal, the first step towards actually accepting your role as her soulmate. It’s enough to make the corners of your lips turn up, if only for a moment.

“Alcina… I understand. I merely want to say that it won’t affect how I feel, or how I act. Love is a blessing, even when it ends in pain. I… have loved before. People whom I will never see again, people who never felt the same way, and maybe people who I really only thought that I loved. I’m trying to think of those experiences as lessons. Situations that taught me something about myself, or about what love is, that I can keep in mind and use going forward. Just as I promised to your daughters, I will try to love you. I will give you an honest chance, regardless of our past circumstances. Because we’re soulmates. Because this is the world offering us a shot at something amazing, and I’m not about to give that up,” you explain, placing one of your hands in Alcina’s. For a moment there’s silence, but you see both surprise and happiness in her expression. Still, there’s a hint of tension remaining in the air, so you do your best to dispel it. “Also your daughters threatened to kill me if I didn’t, and I’d hate to perish before lasting a full year here. I heard a rumor that one of the senior staff members makes cards to celebrate.”

Next thing you know, you’re hearing a beautiful sound, a light, genuine laugh from Alcina, who all at once releases the tension in her shoulders.

“Yes, I do believe Ava, or Caldwell as you said, still makes those. Always with strange little drawings of felines…” She trails off, voice fading into another chuckle, before at last resuming her walk, never letting go of your hand. “As much as I have enjoyed our chat, I do believe it is about time that I retire for the night. We will see each other once more in the morning. For now, I bid you goodnight. Sleep well, my dear.” With that, the two of you arrive at the entrance to the servants’ quarters, and you find just enough courage to bring her hand to your lips, for a brief kiss.

“Goodnight, Lady Alcina. May your dreams be as sweet as your company.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————

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

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

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

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

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

[the-insomniac-emporium]

TROPHIES: Dimitrescu Family HCs

{Hunting, regardless of the nature of the prey, is a favorite activity for the Dimitrescu family. They care not for the sanctions of morality, and freely take reminders from the bodies of their victims. But what do each of them harvest? What do they cherish most among their collections?} {Characters: Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu, Bonus!Avaskian Caldwell (Jokingly) {-Under read more for length, 1.3k words (EDIT: forgot the decimal point. definitely 1,300 words, not 13,000)-}

Admittedly, Bela's is a little shorter than the others, but I don't see her as being as interested in trophies as her family.

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu:

A dragon hoards, but a businesswoman? An entrepreneur? Oh, she invests. The trophies that Lady Dimitrescu collects go far beyond mere wealth. She does not simply conquer and display, she recycles, she reinvents, she expands every part of her collection. Those she hunts may be torn to shreds, but every piece has a use.

Silver, gold, other valuable metals all get melted down, to be recast into jewelry befitting one of the four Lords… or one of her daughters. Cassandra is an artist, you see, and Lady Dimitrescu is more than happy to supply her with materials. Bela tends to be more subtle with her fashion, but a gift from her mother never fails to bring her a smile. And Daniela? Well, her attention is as fleeting as sparks on an anvil, and glittering gems are a surefire way to draw her gaze back where it belongs.

Pelts and exquisite fabrics (cut to ribbons, pulled apart from the remains of clothes, no doubt) find their place easy enough, decorating the many halls of her beloved home. To think that these walls were once barren…

Although her maidens are not captured through hunts, their “employment” is still representative of her wealth, and Alcina takes pride in her collection. They sustain the castle, her daughters, her business, and even herself. For each maiden drained of all blood, for either feeding or wine-making, Alcina saves a single vial. Small enough to seem meaningless in her hands, with labels she can’t read without glasses. But she can tell the difference- tell you everything about each donor- simply by sampling the blood’s scent. When she’s not reminiscing about the sweetest screams and the finest flavors, she keeps the vials safely secured in an ornate cabinet.

Favorite Trophy: A simple, worn-down locket, made of relatively cheap metal. Inside is a faded photo of a woman unfamiliar to Alcina. It’s a rather plain object, but the sentimental value trumps all other trophies, as it was obtained during the first official Dimitrescu family hunt.

Bela Dimitrescu:

Scientifically minded, Bela does not care (much) for common trinkets or grisly mementos from her victims. Instead, she collects the most fascinating remnants, only the well preserved pieces. Perfectly intact skulls, bones with signs of both breakage and mending, medical braces or implants removed from her prey. She lines them up on display in her personal study, taking care to ensure that they remain in flawless condition. Few servants are allowed to touch her favorite trophies. Although her sisters find it odd, Bela has no qualms with cleaning her shelves herself, for the sake of her collection.

Additionally, Bela makes a habit of taking scraps of flesh from her victims, to be added to her homemade fertilizer, to be lovingly fed to her plant children. Of course, not all the scraps are good enough for her garden. Those that fail to meet her (botany-related) standards usually end up getting fed to the hounds. Or the crows. Or the weird mutant fish in one of the local ponds.

Favorite Trophy: The skull of her (former) favorite hunting dog, who had to be put down after cancer diagnosis. While it wasn’t obtained in the pursuit of a hunt, it still takes its place among her trophies, front and center. In Bela’s mind, the skull still serves the purpose of a trophy: An icon to commemorate a struggle, an effort, a triumph. Though the hound did not triumph over death, it shared many victories in life, and deserves to be remembered.

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD QUEEN, SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! Art, baby, art! Or, well, anything for art. Cassandra loots anything she can craft with, from scrap metal to blood-soaked fabric, and everything in between. Bones are equally valuable to her, regardless of any damage they received during the hunt. Phalanges are great for jewelry, while larger bones work well for sculptures or weapon handles.

While Cassandra does pick up the most out of her family, she’s surprisingly picky about what she actually keeps and displays. Despite working on an overwhelmingly large variety of projects, essentially constantly, she doesn’t actually end up using the majority of supplies she gathers. Every once in a while, Cassandra moves unwanted plunder to one of the castle’s storerooms. At that point, it becomes “up for grabs”, with her sisters able to take whatever they desire. Unfortunately for them, Cassandra rarely bothers to separate the wet/messy from the dry/clean… which also means that maidens must frequently clean out her stockpile.

On the topic of messes… the other half of Cassandra’s collection tends to be what most would consider “excessive”. These trophies are kept fairly close to their original condition- that condition being “recently removed from a corpse”. Cassandra prefers to showcase gory pieces that represent her greatest battles. Bloodstained hides from overly mutated Lycans, skulls with shards of broken blades still stuck in them, tattered remains from the armor of cult traitors.

Favorite Trophy: If you were to ask Cassandra to show her favorite, she would likely point out a massive lycan skull, with a normal human skull posed inside its grizzly jaws. “It was one hell of a fight,” she’d explain, “and I was the one who made the killing blow.” But her gaze would flicker to the side, to her true favorite trophy: A shattered dagger, resting within an undecorated display case. Someone had come dangerously close to maiming Bela, once, on a freezing cold day. Protecting her almost cost Cassandra her own life, but she managed, and the dagger was proof.

Daniela Dimitrescu:

One not terribly well acquainted with the Dimitrescus might believe Daniela to be eccentric, if only in the most generic, clearly trying-too-hard sort of way. They would glance at her odd collection, every bit as disorganized as it is mismatched, and assume that she was maddeningly performative. “Skulls turned into candle holders? Worthless, old knick knacks representing memories that aren’t your own? Supposedly mystical rocks?” They’d say, judgement clear in their tone. And then Daniela would kill them, obviously. From their corpse she’d fish out the contents of their pockets, checking for anything mildly interesting.

Because the truth is this: Daniela is entirely genuine in her love of things, her passion for all sorts of oddities, her appreciation of literally anything that piques her interest- and gods, her interest is easy to pique. Even if she doesn’t understand the history of most of the items she collects, she loves them all the same. Sometimes she tells stories inside her head, inventing backstories for her trinkets, trying to imagine what their previous owners were like. After all, she usually doesn’t get a chance to talk to those she hunts.

Unlike her sisters, Daniela’s collection frequently changes, with items on display rotating out, or being replaced entirely. Though her lovers tend to be short-lived, she does frequently give them trophies as a “gift” (said trophies usually find their way back to her, in the end). Other items get traded to the Duke for new objects, some are merely lost in the mess that is her personal study, and some just… lose their charm.

Favorite Trophy: A pocket flask, unknown metal, engraved with an unfamiliar house sigil. On the bottom, someone has messily scratched “T <3 C”. There’s a large dent on the unengraved side, which appears to be from a small caliber firearm.

Bonus!Avaskian Caldwell, Honorary Dimitrescu:

“Trophies?... I got a first place ribbon at a science fair once?” Ava seems confused, unsure of why you’d ask the question in the first place. After you try to elaborate, explaining that you meant, like, hunting trophies, xe gives you a blank stare. “Not really my style.”

Xe is more than willing to tell you about xer science fair project, though…

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

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

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

bela + heartbreak

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

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

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

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

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

—————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Cassandra flirting vs Ava flirting

Ava flirting with Cassandra like:

Ava: You're cold, I'm warm... how 'bout you come over here and we restore balance to the universe? Cassandra: for the love of fuck, just ask to cuddle like a normal person

Cassandra flirting with Ava like:

Cassandra: hey, want a cool knife? Ava: that depends, is this a gift, or are you going to stab me? Cassandra, panicking: definitely the second one Ava, sighing: okay, as long as I get to keep it afterwards

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Cassandra: So... you're touch-starved Ava: *nods* Cassandra: And I'm touch-starved Ava: mhmm Cassandra: ... {They stare at each other for approximately 5.4 seconds, then pull each other in for a desperate kiss, quickly falling onto the nearest couch, where they proceed to cuddle for 8 hours. They do not speak, but occasionally exchange little kisses. If anyone enters the room, Ava starts screeching until the person gets the hint and exits.}

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Cassandra: "for the last time: no, you cannot hide in my room to avoid Daniela."

Ava: *hands her 5 USD* "are you sure?"

Cassandra: *has never set foot outside of Romania, doesn't have internet access, and only knows, like, 2 Americans* "I don't know what this is."

Ava: *gives her 10 more USD* "okay what about now?"

[the-insomniac-emporium]

I was thinking about what Ava's first words to each member of the Dimitrescu family would be (since they're selectively mute, not entirely), and realized something kinda amusing.

No one in that castle would realize that Ava's an American until they speak. They don't tend to talk much about their past when they're writing to communicate, and they seem well enough adjusted to Romanian weather, so most people would probably just assume they were from somewhere nearby.

I might write a full fic for this at some point, but in the meantime enjoy what I've written for their first verbal conversations:

Ava, after Daniela spills a bunch of flour in the kitchen: What the fuck, Daniela? Daniela: hold up hold up, you're American??? I thought you were lesbian?*

Ava, after knocking an intruder unconscious with their cane: Oops, I'm dreadfully clumsy. Bela: ??... I had that handled. Ava: Of course, my Lady. Like I said, 'oops' Bela, suddenly remembering that Ava doesn't talk, wondering if this is a dream: 0_0

Cassandra, shivering: Don't tell my mother about this Ava, carrying her inside: Don't be stupid, Cassandra. Cassandra: I'm killing you, just as soon as I warm up

Alcina, spotting the above incident with Cassandra: Unhand my daughter! Alcina proceeds to take Cassandra from Ava, then pushes them away, claws on one hand extending. Ava: With all due respect, my Lady, you don't have time to kill me right now. Let's get your daughter warmed up first, yes?

*Daniela knows + respects that Ava is non binary/gender fluid, and is merely referencing a meme she's heard about. For further reference, Ava has no consistent preference on pronouns, and (generally speaking) tells others that they can use either she/her or they/them pronouns, depending on how they see Ava. It might sound strange, but as Ava is technically a self insert, I've given them a lot of traits that I myself have. For further further reference, Alcina + Daniela use she/her pronouns for Ava, while Bela + Cassandra use they/them for Ava.