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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
#alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #mother miranda x reader #donna beneviento x reader #original character x reader #oc x reader #avaskian caldwell #resident evil: village #re8 village
in castle dimitrescu's basement level, where you drop down when encountering cassandra for the first time, there are notes recounting maids that get sent to the cellars after a minor mishap to "disappear".
one woman in particular is named ingrid, whose name shows up twice in the files you can read in the torture chambers of the castle, shown here:
there's also an item named ingrid's necklace that you can pick up from one of the wandering moroaica in the same vicinity.
ingrid's necklace is specifically interesting because you actually see it before you get to castle dimitrescu! worn by the old man that gives you a gun for the first time in the beginning segment of the lycan attacks.
there's also a message written in blood on one of the walls of the torture chambers, saying "help me, brother."
with all of this in mind, is it possible that the old man is ingrid's brother? the ages also match up, if we're to put ingrid's disappearance before 1958 as per the maid's diary that you can read in the cellars (which is possible, as irina, mihaela, and lois are assumedly bela, daniela, and cassandra, making ingrid the almost-sister of the three), and if the old man is in his 70s by the time ethan meets him.
idk, i just found this really interesting because those necklaces have been bothering me since i noticed they were the exact same look and model in my first playthrough. what do you guys think??
Cassandra x Original Character/Ingrid, Maiden demo
Chapter 3, new memories
Summary: Ingrid meets Alcina Dimitrescu and her two other daughters for the first time since her failed mutation, as one could imagine, it goes roughly. Ingrid is confronted with feelings of the past and must make decisions for her new life. Ingrid and Cassandra grow closer.
Previous parts: chapter 1 , chapter 2 ,
The next time Ingrid woke was because she felt something sharp poking at her side. When she tried swatting it away, it simply returned after a few seconds again. When she finally pried her eyes open, they were forced to close again due to the harsh light coming in from outside. It seemed like she had slept through the rest of the night more or less peacefully. “Wake up, pet.”, Cassandra’s voice forced her green eyes open again.
She eyed the brunette woman in front of her- she had changed back into her usual black dress and lifted her eyebrow when she noticed Ingrid’s eyes lingering on her collar. The yellow gemstone shone in the sun and therefore almost rivaled Cassandra’s golden eyes in beauty, though Ingrid doubted she would ever tell the other woman about that.
Ingrid quickly adverted her eyes and got back up. She was admittedly surprised to find her hands unchained, especially after her slip the night prior. “As I said yesterday, today you will meet my mother again, so be on your best behavior. Have some manners and don’t eat too messily, we already view you as an animal, no need to confirm this.”, Cassandra said with confidence. “Eat as much of your breakfast as you can, as I said, I want to so some experiments today that will demand you at full health.”, Cassandra reminded Ingrid and threw a new dress at her. That one was more formal and slightly bigger than Cassandra’s, though Ingrid doubted this one would fit her any better around the arms and waist, for it clearly belonged to one of the sisters.
While they were all taller than most people, their bodies were rather petite, especially compared to Ingrid’s. Their stomachs were flat, and their hips were small. Their legs, admittedly long, were not as fleshy as Ingrid’s and they lacked the many muscles Ingrid possessed. While they did have inhuman strength, it did not make itself known by visible muscles, though Ingrid did acknowledge the fact that Cassandra at least seemed to have some in her upper arms. Still, compared to Ingrid and their mother, the sisters could all be considered rather petite, body wise.
She was again careful with her horns, but managed to get stuck nonetheless. When she feared the dress would rip, she called out Cassandra’s name until she felt the woman’s sickle rest on her shoulder. “Care to help me, Sugar?”, She requested smugly, for Ingrid was aware at that point that Cassandra liked her horns greatly. Ingrid had often noticed the woman’s fingers twitching when they were in reach, or how Cassandra’s eyes lingered on them more often than not. She could not tell why the woman was that fascinated with them, but did not bother asking. Ingrid hoped the woman wouldn’t cut them off someday and present them as a trophy, though.
“No such nicknames in front of my mother!”, Cassandra argued, but Ingrid felt her hands, ungloved even, work around the horns almost carefully. She felt them brush against them more often than not, each time Cassandra felt a little more of them and moved her fingers further up or down. When her head was finally through, Cassandra pulled away and put the glove back on. Pity, Ingrid thought. She had such nice hands; long fingers and sharp fingernails painted red.
“I wouldn’t think of it, kitten! I’ll be on my best behavior.”, Ingrid taunted. She reached her hand out to boop Cassandra’s nose, only to feel the sickle dig into her arm and push it down just when she touched it.
“Worth it!”, Ingrid said and stuck out her tongue, but quickly put it back in her mouth and pulled her head back when Cassandra’s sickle swung dangerously close to her face. Her arm bled and hurt, but she was used to it at that point and already felt the healing process start, so Ingrid decided to have a little more fun with the middle sister before she’d be bound to be on her best behavior.
“Want a taste of that rotten blood?”, She asked with a smirk as she recalled the words Cassandra had used to describe it. Cassandra eyed her carefully, almost suspiciously, before she leant towards and slowly licked the blood that ran down Ingrid’s arm. She licked it up until she was at the already closing wound and quickly sucked on it before it could close.
Ingrid raised an eyebrow when she noticed Cassandra’s thighs pushing together and her hips move forward, but figured the woman might not be a hundred percent aware of the action and that it simply came with blood drinking. She doubted Cassandra would willingly show any hint of arousal in front of Ingrid. She watched the woman arch her back slightly and hum at the taste of Ingrid’s blood, until the wound seemed to close and Cassandra pulled away.
“Such a messy eater…”, Ingrid murmured curiously and raised her hand to wipe the blood off Cassandra’s chin. This time the woman did not raise her sickle, but eyed Ingrid so suspiciously that she wouldn’t be surprised to feel the weapon against her skin any second.
She let the blood on Cassandra’s lips be and instead pulled her finger back. She looked at her finger, coated in her own, dark blood, and licked it clean without further thinking. Any tension she might or might not have purposefully created was gone when her face scrunched up in disgust and Cassandra laughed- genuinely laughed- at the silly expression Ingrid’s face wore before she stood back up.
Ingrid learned that Cassandra did not at all just tease her when she told her her blood tasted ‘rotten’. It was a mystery to the woman how Cassandra could possibly enjoy her blood enough to hum and drink it all up like it was anything relatively good.
I’d rather stick to sweet, normal, red colored blood, Ingrid decided, no matter how unethical she sounded. She figured she’d have to start seeing most of the maidens as food, or potential food, if she did not wish to starve.
Ingrid pulled down the dress properly and smiled satisfied when it ended above her elbow and just under her knees again, like Cassandra’s had. Unlike the one from the night before though, the dress on Ingrid smelt of a flowery perfume and altogether very, very sweet, too sweet for Ingrid’s tastes, but she was not about to complain.
“Needless to say that if something happens during breakfast, we’ll both be in trouble. Keep your mouth shut about last night, don’t act suspicious when the topic is brought up.”, Cassandra reminded Ingrid before they stepped out the door to the main hall. Ingrid wanted to insist that she could control herself, but feared that if she did so, a sarcastic comment about the night before might follow. Instead she nodded and followed Cassandra quietly.
When they arrived in the dining room, Alcina and Bela Dimitrescu were present already. Both of their heads turned to them when they enter. Ingrid gulped but bowed to each of them. When she looked back up, Alcina watched her sternly and with little to no emotion present on her face, while Bela gave Ingrid a surprisingly warm smile. Ingrid wasn’t sure what to view the blonde woman as- before her death they almost seemed to be friends, from what Ingrid could recall, and when they met after her death, Bela seemed glad to see her. Ingrid intended to ask the woman about it as soon as she could. From what she could remember, Bela was the most reasonable between the three daughters and would surely not have her head for merely questioning their relationship status.
“Take a seat, daughter….You?”, Mistress Dimitrescu asked and gestured for Cassandra to sit next to Bela and on the opposite side of her. Ingrid grew angry at the fact that the woman that had murdered her (and by the looks of it did not at all regret it) did not even know her name. “Ingrid, my Lady.”, She answered as politely as she could. She had promised Cassandra to be on her best behavior and intended to keep that promise. She owed her that much after the previous night, did she not?
“Ingrid, very well. Take a seat, dear.”, The tall woman said and gestured next to Cassandra. Ingrid eyed her hand as she walked there swiftly, remembering the metal claws that emerged from it and impaled her like her flesh was nothing but a thin paper layer.
“It’s good to see you alive!”, Bela commented from besides Cassandra- Ingrid could swear she heard the younger one growl quietly at her sister. “I am most pleased to see you again, Lady Bela.”, Ingrid answered truthfully. So far she had only come up with the memory of one possible friend- Bela. She gulped when her answer made the Mistress of the castle look at her suspiciously and Ingrid instinctively looked at Cassandra for guidance. She assumed because it was her being alive, but Ingrid very quickly got the message that Lady Dimitrescu was not at all fond of her.
“We made lots of progress yesterday already, Mother.”, Cassandra blurted out to capture her Mothers attention. Ingrid stayed quiet, but noticed how Alcina Dimitrescu’s cold, scolding eyes immediately softened when she looked at her middle child. “I have received your notes, dragă mea.”, The matriarch answered with a small smile. She picked Cassandra’s notebook up from the table and held it out to her daughter, who took it pridefully.
Ingrid said nothing and nodded when it was handed to her next, she knew the Lady would dislike it if she talked when she was not addressed.
“I am pleased with your notes so far, though they do not explain why the mutation failed.”, Alcina said and Ingrid nearly winced. Anything that reminded her of her death or the cellar was a rather sore subject to her, something Cassandra seemed to know as she set her hand on Ingrid’s knee.
It was her turn to be stunned.
After such a night Ingrid knew of Cassandra’s soft-er side, though she did not expect to witness it again so soon. Cassandra did not move her hand as she talked to her Mother, with Bela chiming in occasionally with questions or remarks, but the hand on Ingrid’s knee comforted her nonetheless. Ingrid noted how Cassandra seemed to soak in her Mother’s praise and even purred, admittedly so lowly that Ingrid had to stain her ears to hear it, when the taller woman stroked her head proudly.
When she did the same to her eldest daughter, loud purrs filled the room and made Ingrid smile involuntarily. (She was happy to be ignored by the tall woman, for she feared her smile, or stare, would be enough for the woman to behead her with her claws- something she would surely not recover from)
She did not remember her own mother, but happiness filled her when she saw the feared Mistress of the castle, even if she still was angry at her for killing her, act so motherly and kind towards her daughters. She wondered whether her own mother had loved her as much- but surely not? What kind of mother would allow her daughter to work at a place such as the castle? Especially with its reputation of wine made of people, maidens, and a cruel matriarch with her three devious daughters?
Speaking of which, all four women at the table jumped when the door to the dining room slammed open and Daniela Dimitrescu swarmed into her seat next to Ingrid, smiling innocently at her Mother, who only shook her head with a small smile. Ingrid smiled again, but quickly covered it up with a cough when Alcina Dimitrescu eyed her.
The woman smiled, seemly satisfied, and turned back to Bela, who, as far as Ingrid had noticed, eagerly told her about a new book.
“Hii! You’re wearing my dress!”, Daniela suddenly said with a wide smile. If it wasn’t for that smile, Ingrid might’ve worried that Cassandra simply stole the dress and angered her sister by letting her wear it. Asking people for permission was not something she associated with Cassandra.
“It is very comfortable, thank you for lending it to me, Lady Daniela.”, Ingrid replied politely. Daniela looked as if she felt like chatting some more, but was interrupted by her mother.
“It seems the two of you had an appetizer already.”, she tsked gently, which made both, Cassandra and Daniela look down and Bela to shake her head with no real disappointment aimed at her sisters. Both of their lips were stained in blood- Cassandra’s in Ingrid’s dark one, and Daniela’s lips in a dark red color. Ingrid gulped at the thought that unlike Cassandra, Daniela most likely did not receive a person’s permission to drink their blood. She urged herself not to think about the state of the poor maiden.
“No matter. Maiden!”, The tall woman called, which immediately resulted in several servants bringing breakfast for them. Ingrid’s mouth watered against her will when she saw the raw steak placed in front of Alcina Dimitrescu, then an organ- assumingly a human- or maybe a cow’s- liver on Bela’s plate, another liver on Cassandra’s plate- she was left out still- and lastly a bloody- Ingrid assumed it might’ve been a human kidney- on Daniela’s plate.
Her excitement died down when her plate was placed in front of her- lots of bread and salad. She looked up to Cassandra, but the woman seemed just as shocked as her and snickered quietly, her hand however, was not removed from Ingrid’s knee. Alcina Dimitrescu watched her carefully, possibly looking for Ingrid’s reaction to the food on her and her daughters’ plates. She was mildly surprised when Ingrid’s expression only turned disappointed at her own plate.
While it did not surprise her, Ingrid was still dissatisfied with her food and hoped her and Cassandra could enter her bedroom quickly, so she could finish eating the maidens from the day before- she’d even eat the hands, legs and breasts, parts she usually rather left out. If she was particularly hungry, she might even try a bite of the brain, she considered.
Considering they only found out about her…special appetite the night before, it was no surprise that she received salad to eat, though the green leaves seemed to almost mock her and her rising hunger. Seeing the other’s plates in front of her did nothing to stop her stomach from rumbling and protesting quitly.
“Cassi was so unfair! She wouldn’t let me get a peek at you before!”, Daniela complained, her chin already drenched in blood, but her eyes wide with excitement. Ingrid flinched when she raised her hand with the knife, which caused Daniela to ‘oooh’ quietly and set the sharp tool down. Ingrid let her reach up and feel her horns, though she quietly admitted to herself that Daniela’s fingers did not feel as nice as Cassandra’s. Whether that was because Cassandra preferred to take off her gloves or was surprisingly gentle with them, Ingrid did not know.
She didn’t mind Daniela reaching up to play with her horns every couple of minutes, only to be scolded by her mother to return to her food, only for her youngest daughter to reach up and touch Ingrid’s horns again.
That time when she reached up though, Cassandra stood up, grabbed her arm and twisted it behind Daniela’s back. “Owwie! Stop, you’re breaking my ulna!”, Daniela whined. “-You don’t even know where your ulna is!”, Cassandra bit back angrily. Alcina Dimitrescu watched them some more, before she told Cassandra to kindly let go of her sister, who swarmed halfway in her seat already. “Keep your hands to yourself!”, Cassandra warned and huffed angrily when Daniela stuck her tongue out.
“The ulna is-“, “Would you stop that?!”, Cassandra interrupted Bela before the poor blonde could even begin properly. She huffed and looked over to her mother, who adverted her eyes and took another bite of her own food.
Ingrid’s eyes lightened up when Cassandra cut off some part of her liver and moved it to Ingrid’s plate instead. She gave the woman a genuine grin as a thank you and dug in happy, her salad long forgotten- the bread, she admitted, was exceptionally good. It was what she usually ate as a servant, though it was nice to swallow it when it was still warm and soft.
Alcina Dimitrescu raised her eyebrows at that, but thankfully Cassandra seemed to catch the action and explained before Ingrid had to.
“We have discovered that after the mutation, Ingrid’s taste shifted a little.”, she explained carefully.
“Is that the reason I heard my maidens gossiping about two servants missing and the blood in the courtyard and library?”
“My library!”, Daniela complained and looked over at Cassandra sternly. Ingrid wanted to chime in and take the blame, for she had killed those people and not the family sadist, for once, but the hand on her knee squeezing her knee stopped her.
“I noticed that my pet seemed a little ill and got her a little snack, Mother.”, Cassandra lied convincingly. While Bela shook her head again and Daniela gasped, demanding to know which maidens and whether blood had spilled on any romance books, the Mistress of the castle merely raised her eyebrow in suspicion and shifted her gaze onto Ingrid.
“Is that correct, pet?”, She asked, adapting Cassandra’s nickname for Ingrid. The woman for once did not care about it, for she felt like she had bigger problems than a silly nickname.
Another squeeze of her knee.
“Yes, my Lady. I woke up at night upon experiencing extreme hunger, even though I had eaten regular food before. I asked Lady Cassandra to fetch me something human to eat instead. After that, the hunger had died down.”, Ingrid confirmed as politely as she could.
“Very well. I do hope my door banging did not scare you, pet. When I opened my window, the wind immediately slammed it close.”, While Ingrid did not understand the statement, Cassandra seemly did and tensed a little. Ingrid dared lay her hand upon Cassandra’s, hoping it calmed the woman slightly. When she traced Cassandra’s gloved fingers with her own, the woman seemed to find her voice again.
“It was a little chill yesterday, though I was not outside long enough to notice, Mother.”, Cassandra answered with a nod of her head. Ingrid was even more confused than before. Cassandra did not at all express the wish to bask in the cold air the night before, though perhaps she was just too annoyed at Ingrid to properly enjoy it.
“Do you have any superpowers, my Knight?”, Daniela asked and rested her head against Ingrid’s shoulder. She was slightly taller than Cassandra and Bela was slightly shorter than the brunette, though from afar they all looked the same height.
Unsure of how to answer the question, Ingrid opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. The nickname was sweet enough and made her blush slightly. “I- the mutation has granted me extra height, stamina and strength, my Lady.”, Ingrid answered, unsure whether it was what Daniela wished to hear.
“Anything else?”, she asked, almost dreamily.
“While I would not categorize it as a superpower,”, Ingrid began, “The mutation also resulted in my teeth sharpening a lot. I possess proper fangs, apparently, though the rest of my teeth are also not at all dull, if I may say so, Lady Daniela.”, Ingrid answered. She felt Cassandra’s eyes on her when she mentioned the teeth, something apparently unknown to the woman.
She figured Cassandra knew, but gladly fed her more information, something Daniela did not at all seem to mind, for she believed the rant that followed was directed at her only.
“I have a higher sense of smell as well, and my hearing has improved greatly, Milady. Whether my eyesight has improved as well after the mutation, I cannot tell. The horns appear to grow out of my head and while they are stiff, I can feel through them as if they were a part of my skin.
My skin color changed greatly too, though I do not believe that the dark lines are a hint towards an illness, for I feel alive and well so far- that reminds me, my body seems to heal itself very quickly, something I have no control over.
When I get hungry my stamina levels rise, as far as I can tell so far,”, Ingrid said.
“Cassandra, be a dear and write that down additionally to your new findings today.”, Alcina Dimitrescu said when Ingrid finished and Cassandra responded with a ‘Yes, Mother’. Ingrid blushed when her mind again uselessly provided her with a less than innocent scenario of the usually so confident, even mean Cassandra on her knees, obediently following whatever order Ingrid gave her. She shook her head to rid herself from these thoughts, which made the youngest Dimitrescu sister coo and Cassandra grumble angrily.
“Stop that!”, she huffed when Daniela started petting Ingrid’s hair like the one of a puppy. Ingrid surprisingly did not mind the action and rather smirked subtly at Cassandra’s possessiveness.
“Tell me, my Knight, can you braid hair?”, Daniela asked dreamily. Ingrid nodded, but corrected herself quickly “Yes, Lady Daniela.”.
“Perfect! Mother, may I take her to the library with me?”, She asked with exceptionally well puppy eyes- even if Ingrid had not known it before, it became clear very quickly that Daniela was the youngest child between the three of them; playful like Cassandra could be, but even more so, and dreamily, so dreamily. But even so she was more unpredictable than her sisters. Daniela, as far as Ingrid remembered from the other maiden’s rantings before her death, was either your friend or worst enemy, depending on her mood.
While she was not as sadistic as her older sister, she was almost the complete opposite of the eldest daughter. Daniela could be nice in one moment, but as soon as her mood changed she could grab her sickle and kill or injure a maiden for a minor inconvenience.
“Absolutely not!”, Cassandra said before her Mother could answer and potentially become a victim of Daniela’s puppy eyes.
“We have things to do today, go annoy someone else.”, Cassandra said and Ingrid nearly gasped when the fingers she stroked so gently turned and pulled her knee towards Cassandra harshly.
“Ingrid doesn’t think I’m annoying, do you?”, Daniela asked and Ingrid quickly shook her head; “Not at all, Lady Daniela.”
Cassandra looked at her sister angrily and when Ingrid noticed her trying to pull her hand from her knee to grab her sickle, she quickly wrapped her own hand around Cassandra’s smaller one. The woman stopped her death stare and looked rather confused at first, before her gaze landed on Ingrid, expression as confused as she had looked when the taller woman had wiped the blood off her chin before. Ingrid hated how she adored the expression.
“Mother, may we be excused?”, Cassandra asked after a few seconds and when the matriarch nodded, Ingrid gasped at the feeling of flies around her entire body. She pressed her eyes close when she was lifted and only heard the buzzing of flies until she was set down again on Cassandra’s bed. She didn’t have time to focus on the room, or shake her head to rid herself of the sound of flies buzzing around her, for Cassandra’s words had her focus on her again instantly.
“What did you do?”, Cassandra asked, which left the other woman confused again. “I…held your hand?”, she answered unsurely.
“Why?”, Cassandra demanded to know coldly. She eyed Ingrid suspiciously and only looked down at her own hand once.
“I had the feeling you were going to attack your sister and attempted to calm you.”, Ingrid answered truthfully, though still confused. She had no problems at all believing that none of the maidens, or anyone except her family, tried to be close to Cassandra, let alone because of her reputation as the family sadist, most skilled hunter, and most brutal killer, but was still surprised to see the other woman that puzzled upon experiencing something as simple as holding hands.
“Do not do it again, pet.”, Cassandra said coldly, and Ingrid nodded.
“I did pretty good, didn’t I, Sunshine?”, Ingrid teased instead. Cassandra eyed her angrily at the nickname, but did not attack her whatsoever. “You were decent.”, Cassandra muttered and took her notebook from Ingrid again.
They both walked to the desk, with Ingrid’s hands gesturing in the air wildly.
“Decent?! Your sister LOVES me, I’m pretty confident about that, and Bela and I might be friends, the only person giving me the cold shoulder besides you, Sunshine, is your mother, who seems to despise me for no reason at all.”, Ingrid listed. She again tried to boop Cassandra’s nose and was not at all surprised when she had to cancel her attempt and draw her hand back when the woman tried striking her arm with the sickle. Weirdly enough the action brought a fond smile on Ingrid’s lips.
“She does not despise you, but acknowledges the fact that you are beneath her.”, Cassandra answered absently as she wrote down everything about Ingrid that had been listed during breakfast.
When she finished writing, she moved back towards Ingrid, stepping into her personal space.
Ingrid felt her body heating up almost instantly, too. If she leaned down, she was sure her lips would meet Cassandra’s. Green eyes locked on said lips and Ingrid noted how soft they looked. Full, black painted lips right below her, almost luring her in. She felt Cassandra’s rather cold breath on her neck and gulped when her gloved hand rested upon Ingrid’s waist.
“I’m going to need you to open your mouth for me, Ingrid.”, Cassandra requested, not ordered like she usually did. Ingrid dropped her mouth open and bent slightly for Cassandra to look into her mouth. She allowed Cassandra to touch some of the fangs’ edges, as if she tried out how sharp they were. “Thank you, for comforting me at breakfast.”, Ingrid said quietly when Cassandra pulled away and went back to scribbling things into her notebook.
Cassandra hummed, but did not answer verbally. When she rose, she had a rather nervous smile on her black-painted lips.
“I’ll have to hurt you, for the experiment.”
Ingrid’s eyes widened, though she did not attack Cassandra like she would have possibly done the day before. Ingrid pressed her thighs together at the memory of Cassandra laying sprawled out on the desk, how sweet she smelled, or perhaps how she gasped when she was pushed against the wall in the cellar.
She shook her head stubbornly- it was definitely not the time to think about Cassandra like that, not when the sadist openly admitted she’d hurt her.
“We know that your shoulder is tougher now, to say at the least. I’d like to see if we can repeat the progress and receive the same result on other parts of your body.”, Cassandra explained. The woman did not know why, but the prospect of hurting the brunette woman in front of her did not fill the woman with as much joy as she assumed it would- was she slacking? What would her mother think? Her sisters? No, she was not slacking. She could still walk out the door and kill every single maiden in the hallway in under five minutes without feeling any sort of resistance.
“Fine.”, Ingrid answered, which surprised both women. “In exchange for something else.”, Ingrid added quickly. Cassandra’s expression shifted from confused to suspicious within seconds, but she nodded her head for Ingrid to continue. “I want a hug, a proper one, and I want you to apologize for dragging me down in the cellars in the first place, I also want to know the reason for it.”, Ingrid listed. Cassandra seemed to ponder on it for a moment before she nodded.
When Ingrid moved into her personal space though, she pushed her away. “Afterwards.”, she grumbled and pushed the other woman to sit down on the chair. “Would you like to eat something before?”, She asked as she laid her sickle on the table for Ingrid to inspect.
The woman was about to shake her head when she realized the tiny feeling of hunger within her. A tiny feeling of hunger could easily turn into anger when Cassandra inflicted pain upon her; anger and hunger made it harder for her to control herself; Ingrid could not risk attacking the other woman and risk destroying the more or less comfortable relationship they had found themselves in: She nodded and watched as Cassandra swarmed over to the bodies.
“Try some of that.”, She said and ripped some flesh from a maiden’s leg, before she brought it over to Ingrid. Again, her mind provided her with another unhelpful, erotic fantasy of, which Ingrid quickly shook away again before she could think about it too much. She did not doubt that Cassandra smelt her arousal as well, not with how dilated her pupils were, but was thankful that the woman did not unnecessarily point it out.
When she swallowed most of her small meal, she nodded and watched nervously as Cassandra took the sickle comfortably. She was not at all fond of the experiment, but was willing to go through with it, for it seemed important enough. A part of Ingrid wondered whether she’d be (nearly) immortal if her skin was hard like armor at all her weak spots.
Even though she was prepared for it, Ingrid screamed when the sickle dug into her other, uninjured shoulder harshly and unforgiving. She knew that Cassandra held back at least, so she did not pull on the sickle or rip it from Ingrid’s shoulder harsher than necessary. Next was her neck, where Cassandra dug her nails in and scratched hard enough for it to nearly split open.
Ingrid choked and held onto Cassandra’s hips tightly, perhaps too tight when she heard the woman gasp over the sound of her own blood running through her. She felt lightheaded and squeezed Cassandra’s waist until her body granted her to breathe normally again. The wounds were healing, slowly, but itched enough for Ingrid to dig her nails into the fabric of Cassandra’s dress to keep them from scratching at the wounds. Cassandra watched curiously as this happened, but stayed still for her companion.
Her neck, surprisingly, healed first, so that after about eleven minutes of gasping and holding onto the other brunette, Ingrid was able to breathe properly again. Her shoulder took another eleven minutes, but eventually healed fully again as well.
Ingrid watched as Cassandra removed her glove and prodded her skin carefully, first her neck, then her shoulder. Cassandra hummed pleased at both. “Ready?”, She asked and brought the sickle down against Ingrid’s shoulder when the woman nodded. That time she did not wince and only shifted uncomfortably. The sickle penetrated a fine layer of skin, but did not sink in further, the same happened when Cassandra brought the weapon down against the exact same spot on Ingrid’s neck where she scratched her. The rest of her neck was still vulnerable, but Ingrid doubted she could stay conscious if they repeated the process at the other parts of her neck.
“Did it work?”, Ingrid asked eventually and grinned breathlessly when Cassandra nodded. Her body felt heavy and exhausted, and she was hungry again, but made sure to bury that particular need again quickly by finishing her meal.
She allowed Cassandra to scribble every little detail down in the notebook and smiled when she closed it and turned to Ingrid.
“What do you want first?”, She asked upon remembering their deal. Ingrid noted how tense the woman became and decided to start easy on her.
“The reason first, then a proper apology, I don’t want to see any eye rolling or something like that, and then the hug.”, Ingrid listed with a small smile. From her position on the chair she was roughly at Cassandra’s stomach level, if a little higher. She decided not to stand up and grant the shorter woman at least their momentary height difference.
“I had you sent there because you talked back to me.”, she explained, though added more than that when she saw Ingrid’s puzzled expression.
“You were ordered to clean my sickle from blood, I was too busy to do so myself, another mutation experiment. When you took it grumpily, I told you to be honored, and you made a sarcastic comment.”, Cassandra explained, though her voice did not hold regret.
Ingrid did not expect her to feel bad about it either, really, if you talked back to any of the Dimitrescu family, one could be sure to be sent to the cellar. Ingrid momentarily got angry, not at Cassandra, but at herself. With Cassandra’s explanation, her mind provided her the images-
The armory. Cassandra sat on a barrel. Ingrid stood and held her sickle. She nearly let it drop to the floor, she was so tired. She remembered having gotten into a fight with another maiden just minutes before. She was never good at controlling her temper.
“Do not drop it! You should be honored to clean this”, Cassandra had said threateningly. That alone should have been a hint to shut up, but sadly Ingrid never knew to do that either.
“Of course, My Lady.”, she said, words practically dripping with sarcasm. Ingrid remembered the pain she felt upon having a hand, slightly larger than her own one- now smaller than hers- wrapped around her throat harshly.
“I want an apology. I don’t care if you mean it or not, I want to hear you say the words as genuine as you manage, Cassandra.”, She said, a sign that she was ready to move on from that memory.
She watched as Cassandra’s brows furrowed and her nose scrunched up slightly in confusion, and goddamn Ingrid hated how adorable the murderer looked.
When she seemed to have finally found the words, Cassandra looked down at Ingrid and had the woman get lost in her golden eyes again- not the last time, either.
“I’m…sorry, I-there’s lots of servants in the castle, so I do-did not think of their individuality. Of their lives, or whether they had a meaning. You were mean to me and I got angry, so I had you suffer. It was not okay to be the judge of your life, or death, and I’m sorry. You’re not that bad.”, The woman said, stiff as a board. She bit her lip wordlessly and played with her gloves slightly, the only two indicators that she had meant her words in the slightest.
Ingrid smiled at the words and cooed when Cassandra tensed even more when Ingrid stood up and her hands were wrapped around the woman’s waist and pulled her closer to her.
“Why?”, Cassandra asked quietly as Ingrid stood up and stepped into her personal space.
“Why are you this opposed to it?”, Ingrid countered, but received no reply. When she pulled Cassandra against her front, she noticed the woman reaching for her sickle, but let her. Ingrid smiled when she did not feel the weapon under her skin yet and wrapped her arms around Cassandra properly. The woman was still stiff as a wall and gripped her sickle tightly, almost as if she expected an attack. Ingrid rested her chin on the top of Cassandra’s head and smiled when she heard silent purring, despite the tense way Cassandra held herself up.
She gave the woman a few minutes in her arms, unmoving and wordless, until Cassandra seemed to deem the situation harmless; she did not put down the sickle, but Ingrid felt her cold nose press against her warm Neck. The purrs got slightly louder, though Ingrid was unsure whether a normal person could hear them, were they in her position. (Her heart swelled when she noticed that most likely no other person but her family had held Cassandra that close). The urge to squeeze Cassandra’s hips was there, though Ingrid ignored it.
She understood that the other woman was practically touch starved and it would take a lot for her to open up around Ingrid; she did not wish to ruin the moment by startling Cassandra. “See? This isn’t so bad, kitten.”
Ingrid could not help but let the nickname slip, though it was spoken affectionate enough for Cassandra to only nod against her neck quietly. When Ingrid felt the woman pushing against her chest a couple of seconds later, she let her pull away. She smiled at Cassandra’s slightly ruffled hair and yearned to place a small kiss on the woman’s forehead, where she sported the black Dimitrescu rose tattoo like her sisters. It would only be a gesture that said ‘thank you’ or maybe, ‘it’s fine now’, nothing more, Ingrid’s mind spoke clearly.
“Do you remember having any illnesses before the mutation? Anything that could have caused it to fail?”, Cassandra asked and cleared her throat.
Ingrid felt bad that the woman brushed off their moment so quickly, but did not expect anything else from the brunette and only shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. I also can’t remember ever waking up in the middle of the process, or feeling anything in general.”, Ingrid answered with a huff. She couldn’t recall being sick before, which brought them back to the beginning. She wasn’t sure why the mutation had failed, but with each minute of not knowing, Ingrid grew more restless.
What if someone else’s mutation also fails? Will I be of need any longer?, Ingrid asked herself quietly. She wondered whether she’d be replaced by another maiden and maybe sent down to stay at the cellar, while the next reject of the mutation lived in the corner of Cassandra’s room. Maybe even slept in her bed with her? Spent time with her? Touched her? Hurt her? Ingrid knew she was capable of hurting the other woman, if she managed to surprise her, or perhaps when she slept. Would another reject take advantage of such moments?
Ingrid shook those thoughts away- no, no other maiden would take anything from her, and even if they tried, Ingrid would win.
“If you’d like to, we can try normal food tonight, when you get hungry. To see if that works as well.”, Cassandra said after writing down some more information on Ingrid. The woman only nodded wordlessly and watched as Cassandra drew a chart on an empty page, titling the date, time, and amount of food. “We can try today and see if it improves or worsens over the next few days, or if it holds any consequences.”, She explained and closed the notebook.
“Can I leave?”, Ingrid asked, which had the other woman snap her head towards her immediately. Ingrid took notice of the possessiveness in Cassandra’s eyes and posture, like her tense shoulders and the way she eyed Ingrid suspiciously. “I’d like to talk with Bela, I have several things to discuss with her, and Daniela requested to see me in the library.”, Ingrid continued when she received no answer. “Fine, whatever.”, Cassandra huffed and walked from the table. Ingrid’s eyebrow rose at the other woman’s obvious anger, for she did not necessarily know who it was aimed at, and why.
“Are you su-“-“Just don’t make a mess again, now leave!”, Cassandra snapped. When Ingrid still sat on the chair, looking at her stupidly, Cassandra threw her sickle her way, which would’ve landed in Ingrid’s face, had the woman not dodged and sprinted from the room.
Ingrid’s heart beat quickly when she closed the door behind her. She was tempted to go back in and yell at Cassandra, some twisted part within her even demanded hurting the brunette for what she attempted to do, though Ingrid suppressed both urges. She knew yelling at the brunette would be fruitless and unnecessary, for both women were too stubborn to admit they did wrong- though I did nothing wrong at all, Ingrid thought.
No matter, Ingrid decided and quickly sprinted down the stairs. She wasn’t sure where to find Bela, something she maybe should have considered asking Cassandra about (Ingrid doubted the woman would be thrilled to answer her questions in her current mood), and Ingrid was less then enthusiastic at the thought of accidentally running into Mistress Dimitrescu on her quest to find her eldest daughter.
She tried the dining room first, though Ingrid doubted to find the woman still lingering there. As she assumed, the room was rather dark, cleaned, and empty. When she heard noises from the kitchen, she followed them until she stood surrounded by maidens.
“Have any of you seen Lady Bela?”, Ingrid asked with a gulp. While none of the servants dared paying her much attention with Cassandra’s presence next to her, they now stared at Ingrid with wide eyes and open mouths. Most of their expressions turned to disgust and hatred, while others turned to fear.
“Why? So you can go crawl her ass up too?”, One of the servants said, the others laughed. Ingrid grew angry and momentarily understood why the Dimitrescu family members preferred having the maidens be scared of them.
Ingrid let instinct take over slightly and slammed the cocky maiden, a rather short woman- definitely in comparison to her- with reddish hair and high cheekbones against the wall, hard enough for her to squeak in pain and the other maidens to gasp and step as far away as they could.
“Maybe? What do you think, should I bring her a souvenir? A pretty redheads’ arm, maybe?”, Ingrid asked with a smile large enough to let her sharp teeth peek through. (Cassandra’s mood might lighten up if you brought her a heart, her mind provided)
The poor maiden cried and shook her head, useless prayers to Mother Miranda spilling out of her mouth like a waterfall.
“I believe Lady Bela is currently in the eastern part of the cellars, Milady!”, Another maiden squeaked in fear. She seemed to relax when Ingrid let go of the redhead and stepped away from her. Ingrid eyed her suspiciously as she pointed the way through the kitchen and to the dungeons- Was Bela genuinely down there, or was it a poor attempt of getting rid of Ingrid? The woman wasn’t sure- she did not remember the maiden, a blonde, tall woman with green eyes like Ingrids, to have been her friend before her death, then again, she hardly remembered having any friends.
She decided to risk it, perhaps also to sate her curiosity when it came to the cellar, and followed the path through the kitchen, through a small storeroom and then down the stairs.
She still heard the maidens upstairs talking, gossiping about her relationship with Cassandra and Bela, whispering hushed words about her appearance, asking Mother Miranda if Ingrid was death that had come to collect them from such a horrible place.
When she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, the air became significantly thicker and the smell of rotten flesh and blood took over the one of fresh meals in the kitchen. Ingrid ignored it and walked through the cellar, seeing most of the cells to be empty. She stopped when she heard horrendous noises, as well as Bela’s annoyed voice. “Such useless creatures!”
Ingrid sped up until she arrived at an open area that momentarily saved her from the smell of rotten flesh. She gasped when bodies started pushing themselves through gaps on the floor and nearly gagged when the smell of dead meat and corpses overtook the open area. When the bodies straightened up, Ingrid noticed that they wielded swords or sickles and made horrible, loud noises that were remarkably close to the ones Ingrid was capable of making.
She ran past them, to another part of the dungeons. Thankfully, just when more and more creatures appeared, screeching, and groaning and bones bending in ways they shouldn’t, Ingrid heard Bela’s voice from the distance. She ran and pushed the creatures out of the way, hissing slightly when a blade dug into the back of her leg and cut it open.
When she stood in front of Bela, the creatures retreated back to the holes they emerged from.
“I see you made friends.”, Bela commented amusedly, but cleared one of the trays for Ingrid to sit on. “What…what are these things?!”, Ingrid gasped as Bela began inspecting the wound on her leg. She watched with great interest as it closed, but still cleaned the blood from around it.
“Those creatures are the moroaică, like you would have been, had the mutation been successful. As you can see they’re not very smart, but they do a good job at keeping the cellars protected when we’re not down here, so Mother lets us keep them.”, Bela explained and turned her back to Ingrid again. Ingrid smiled at the gesture and grinned when Bela busied herself with the corpse on the table in front of her.
While Ingrid had no desire to attack Bela (and would most likely fail even if she tried), it was nice being around someone less suspicious of her movements, someone that made her feel less dangerous and uncontrollable. She looked over Bela’s shoulder to view the corpse as well, a woman, brunette, with scars littering cross her arms and chest, most likely caused by one of the torture devices Ingrid knew to be in the cellar. Her skin was almost like Ingrids, but was darker already and looked almost rotten. Her eyes were covered by the same, brown hood that the rest of the creatures wore and her face looked thin, if Ingrid didn’t know better, she’d believe the woman had been dead for decades already.
“Mother gave me the task of handling most of the mutations, now that Cassandra is busy with you.”, Bela said proudly. She purred quietly when she mentioned her mother and smiled like it was an honor to be down in the cellars and watch bodies rot and hear poor prey scream all day and night long.
“She knows she can entrust you with this, Lady Bela.”, Ingrid replied and Bela hummed again with a smile. Again, Ingrid could hear the woman purring at the praise and smiled slightly; she knew better than to clarify them as cute- or, Miranda forbid, harmless- but the more time she spent with the daughters (actually spent with them, not like before when she cleaned up their messes or scrubbed the mess they left off the floor), the more Ingrid considered them as human-like.
Not quite human, like Ingrid was no longer human, but capable of experiencing emotions and bickering like normal, human teenagers.
“Though I assume you had a reason to come down here.”, Bela said and opened the dead woman’s mouth. Her teeth were sharp like Ingrids.
Ingrid nodded and hummed. “I was wondering whether you could tell me our relationship status, Milady. I remember you calling me a friend before, but am unsure if that changed after my stay in the cellar.”, Ingrid asked carefully. ‘Stay in the cellar’ was a very mild description of the days and nights she was locked in the cell, not knowing what time it was or whether one of the daughters- possibly Cassandra- would come by and torture her like the other servants, who’s screams echoed through the cellar at all times and made it difficult to sleep, even when exhaustion overtook Ingrid’s body.
“I consider you as a friend, Ingrid. I do hope you view me as your friend as well, not only a superior you are forced to be kind to.”, Bela said confidently, though Ingrid spotted the hidden insecurity behind her voice. Like Cassandra, who covered her emotions with brutality, Bela tried hiding her true emotions behind the confident visage of the eldest Dimitrescu sister. Like with Cassandra, Ingrid looked through her façade like it was nothing.
“I would love to call you my friend, my Lady. Admittedly, I cannot remember having had any other friends before my death, or now, for that matter. Perhaps your sister, Lady Daniela?”, Ingrid asked subtly. She knew she’d have the best chances of having a normal, civilized conversation about others if she spoke with Bela, besides, Ingrid came to treasure the other woman’s presence within seconds. She was unsure why, but for some reason she related to Bela.
“I’m afraid Daniela would rather find a lover in you, I must apologize for her, my little sister can be…delusional at times.”, Bela answered, but Ingrid noticed the way Bela gripped the sickle strapped at her waist. She did not doubt that she was very protective over her family members.
“Why don’t you help me with this? As much as I gathered so far, you seem skilled and not too grossed out by blood.”, Bela said and stepped aside to have Ingrid stand by the table as well.
“What about this one?, Ingrid asked quietly and nodded her head towards a chained-up maiden behind them. She kept slipping in and out of consciousness, but screamed nearly the entire time she was awake. Ingrid surprised herself mildly at how unethical she had become after her death (Or had she been like that before already? Ingrid did not dare to think about it), but she grew annoyed with the constant noise and nearly waited for Bela to pick her out for another experiment or kill her.
“I’m afraid this one won’t withstand the mutation, she’s too weak already.”, Bela replied and scribbled things down into an equally brown notebook as Cassandra’s- the only difference? The small, golden B on the cover.
“Would you like me to dispose of her?”, Ingrid asked. Her ears hurt from the woman’s screaming and she felt her eyes on her nearly the entire time she was awake.
Bela shrugged, but then nodded and turned back to her notebook.
Ingrid relished the way the woman’s heartbeat picked up when she stepped into her cell and quickly snapped her neck- no need to make the woman suffer more than she already did in the cellar, the human part of Ingrid provided. “Do you require the heart, or may I remove it?”
as always, I am feeling bored and uninspired! but still, as always, I am writing! anyway, I'm bored so send me an emoji from either of these fanfic ask games and I'll answer them! I know I probably won't get many but hopefully with my tags I might get at least two! fanfic ask game & fanfic ask game 2!! those are the links and I'll reblog the posts too, happy sending!!!