ㅤㅤ

𝓜𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝑂𝑀𝑁𝐼𝐴 𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑰𝑻 ㅤㅤ〔 . . . 〕ㅤㅤ 𝑺𝑬𝑫 𝓜𝙀 𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐶𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝙉𝙊𝙉 𝑃𝑂𝑇𝐸𝑆𝑇 ❞

[redimeree]

An INDEPENDENT , SELECTIVE and PRIVATE (mutuals only) roleplay blog, heavily inspired by the Resident Evil universe (CAPCOM), featuring a BSAA operative original character, made by @redimeree. OC-friendly & crossover-friendly. High activity, featuring more than one verse, +17 Written by Dawn, she/her, GMT +1.

CARRD. | MEMES/PROMPTS. | STARTER. | VERSES & CONNECTIONS.

Not follow 4 follow — if I follow you is because I genuinely want to interact.

[selfsaving]

AGGRESSION   //   SEXUAL  TENSION .

acts  that  could  be  aggressive   //   or  a  little  bit  sexy   //   or  both.                     send  a  symbol  from  your  muse  to  mine.  feel  free  to  combine  actions  or  add  specifics  even  when  it  doesn’t  ask  for  it   !     can  send  non - sexually  as  well.

THREATENING

🔪   //   put  a  knife  to  my  muse’s  throat .

🖐️   //   put  a  hand  around  my  muse’s  throat .

👕   //   slide  a  weapon  up  under  my  muse’s  shirt     (   can  specify   ) .

👔   //   grab  my  muse  by  the  collar   &   pull  them  closer .

🔒   //   lock  my  muse  in  a  room  alone  with  your  muse .

🗩   //   verbally  threaten  my  muse     (   please  specify   ) .

PINNING

🔙   //   push  my  muse  against  a  wall .

📌   //   pin  my  muse’s  wrists  above  their  head .

🔵   //   grab  my  muse  hard  enough  to  leave  a  bruise .

🔑   //   handcuff  my  muse .

➰   //   tie  my  muse  to  a  chair .

⭕   //   restrain  my  muse  with  an  item  of  clothing     (   please  specify   ) .

🚨   //   push  my  muse  to  the  ground   &   straddle  them .

📢   //   tell  my  muse   ‘  stop  squirming   !  ’ .

🔗   //   otherwise  restrain  my  muse     (   please  specify   ) .

LIGHTER

👀   //   grab  my  muse’s  jaw   &   direct  their  gaze  towards  yours .

⚡   //   tug  my  muse’s  hair .

⚠️   //   bite  my  muse     (   can  specify  where   ) .

😏   //   give  my  muse  a  hickey .

✂️   //   run  fingernails  over  my  muse’s  skin   &   scratch  them .

💦   //   cover  my  muse’s  mouth .

DARKER

💋   //   give  my  muse  a  kiss  that  draws  blood .

🗡️   //   cut  my  muse  with  a  knife     (   can  specify  where   ) .

💀   //   kidnap  my  muse .

😶   //   put  a  hand  over  my  muse’s  nose   &   mouth .

💥   //   tighten  something  around  my  muse’s  throat  that  restricts  their  blood - flow  /  oxygen  supply     (   please  specify   ) .

[bela--dimitrescu]

🐺- Stalking your muse

(😝)

Bela noticed it almost immediately.

Not because Alisson was particularly loud - quite the opposite, really - but because humans were simply not built for stealth within Castle Dimitrescu.

The first sign had been the faint shift of movement behind one of the corridor arches while Bela reviewed inventory records in the dining hall. The second came later in the library, and by the third occurrence, she had to resist the urge to sigh aloud.

She had specifically given Alisson the day off. And somehow, the woman had chosen to spend it… stalking her.

Bela continued with her duties regardless, outwardly unbothered. She inspected wine stock with the servants, corrected Daniela’s carelessly abandoned clutter in one sitting room, and spent nearly twenty uninterrupted minutes reorganizing documents in her mother’s study, all while catching increasingly obvious glimpses of Alisson.

At one point, she even stopped abruptly in a corridor. Then…..a very unconvincing attempt at hiding behind a statue followed. Bela had nearly smiled. Nearly.

Instead, she simply continued walking as though she had noticed nothing at all. Truthfully, she found herself… curious how long Alisson intended to continue this.

So eventually, Bela adjusted course. Downward, into the lower levels of the castle. Surely this would discourage her.

It did not.

A few moments later, there it was again, the careful sound of footsteps trying very hard not to be heard. Unbelievable.

What sensible human willingly followed a Dimitrescu daughter into the dungeons?

And more importantly…..how had this particular silly human managed to worm her way so deeply into her heart? The thought alone felt absurd.

The eldest daughter paused beside one of the iron cell doors, gaze lowering briefly as she finally allowed herself the smallest exhale through her nose.

"…you are not nearly as subtle as you believe yourself to be," she said calmly into the darkness. "And this is a remarkably questionable way to spend your day off."

[bela--dimitrescu]

redimeree

Being dragged through the castle was not something Alisson had expected on a day like today. She had expected many things: perhaps taking care of Bela, feeding her, serving her, or even teasing her a little when they were alone. However, unexpected as it was, the fact that Bela had grabbed her by the collar of her uniform and started hauling her toward the bedroom was far better than being left alone in the kitchen with the Lady of the Castle. Alisson had no trouble faking the fear reflected on her face, as Alcina's presence alone was enough to make her want to run to the bathroom. ────── ❛ Yes, my Lady- I'll help you- ❜ — she said, even while being dragged out of the kitchen. The sensation was not pleasant, but Alisson wasn't exactly being strangled, either. Bela was definitely being careful, she thought. Once she was free again, Alisson stopped writhing like a fish out of water. She made an offended sound as she dusted off her clothes. Without a doubt, she was still copying some of the blonde's mannerisms. ────── ❛ I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that, but I had a lot of fun being a sack of potatoes. ❜ — The girl replied, as though she hadn't just coughed quietly a moment ago from the brief lack of air.

Alisson approached Bela and carefully sat her down on the bed. She shook her head. ────── ❛ Don't worry. I'm not lying when I say I enjoyed it. You should do it more often. ❜ — She murmured, moving to the side to search for bandages and supplies to tend to the wound.

A soft laugh escaped Bela before she could stop it. "You're definition of fun is…interesting, Alisson," she murmured. "But I have to say that you're by far the cutest sack of potatoes I've ever handled." The blonde smirked as she allowed Alisson to guide her toward the bed without protest.

The moment she was seated, her hands moved to the fastenings of her dress with practiced efficiency. "Now my little sack of potatoes can play nurse as she wished." Carefully, she loosened the fabric and allowed it to slide from her shoulders enough to expose the wound in her side. Dark blood still stained pale skin, but the flesh was already knitting together, just slowly.

"The cabinet," she said, nodding toward the heavy oak piece against the wall. "Second shelf. The green paste....not the blueish. Unless you’re looking to melt my skin off, which would be incredibly counterproductive."

She watched Alisson search with a relaxed gaze. When the comment came 'You should do it more often' Bela’s eyebrow rose. "Really?" she asked, her voice dropping into a low, amused hum. "You just got hauled off like a misbehaving cat, and now you’re asking for me to do it again?" The eldest daughter shook her head, a genuine, soft smile finally breaking through her usual composure. "Most people would be complaining, you know. But you? You’re practically asking me to shove you around more."

Her gaze lingered on Alisson, affectionate. "I never thought I’d be hearing a grown woman beg to be manhandled, but…" She let out a quiet, laugh. "I suppose there are worse ways to spend our time."

[redimeree]

Of course, her definition of fun was a peculiar one. Alisson had spent her entire childhood carrying the weight of maturity on her shoulders, and now? Just about anything amused her, just like a child. She found entertainment in everything, she laughed at everything... Sometimes she wondered whether that was a pathetic or embarrassing trait to have as part of her personality.

The human shook her head slightly, following Bela's instructions and picking up a green-colored paste resting on one of the blonde's shelves. Before returning to her, Alisson checked the paste three separate times. After all, she didn't want to mess anything up. Even if her vision told her it was green, she didn't quite trust herself.

────── ❛ This one, right? ❜ — She asked, trying to sound confident. She didn't want Bela to think she was stupid for being unable to tell colors apart.

The human approached Bela and sat beside her, pulling aside the fabric of her dress with more care than she usually used when dusting the blonde's desk or cleaning her doorframe. Alisson was far more focused on avoiding causing pain and treating the wound properly than on noticing exposed skin or feeling embarrassed.

────── ❛ If it hurts... ❜ — The girl paused for a moment, trying to think of something rational to say. ────── ❛ If it hurts, I'll let you pull my hair... Or... Something... ❜ — She murmured, leaning down and beginning to dab at the wound with a piece of gauze.

She was so focused that it almost seemed surreal. She didn't even continue joking about being dragged through the castle like a sack of potatoes. Oh, she was taking this seriously.

[bela--dimitrescu]

Lone Survivors @redimeree

The house had likely been abandoned for years. Its roof leaked when it rained, and the windows had long since been boarded over. It was still better than the alternative.

Bela slept. Or rather, she drifted through a hollow, unconscious haze. The bed had been dragged close to the fireplace, but the fire and blankets offered little comfort against the chill that seemed to radiate from her own skin.

The journey away from the village had nearly cost her what little life she had left.

The ruin of her left arm ended just below the elbow, jagged crystal growths yielded to weakly buzzing flies that tried repairing the limb. Every attempt at regeneration was a slow agonizing process.

But worse were the wounds that no amount of recovery could reach. It had been days since the castle fell. Since the loss of her family. Bela rarely spoke of them, she rarely spoke at all. When awake, she spent hours staring into the void, her golden eyes unfocused, as if a vital piece of her mind had remained in the castle.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open. She drew in a sharp, rattling breath, her gaze darting across the room. Alisson was nowhere to be seen. The chair beside the bed stood empty.

A cold tightness coiled in Bela’s chest, close to panic. "Alisson...?" The blonde tried to heave herself up, but a fresh bolt of agony tore through her, forcing a stifled cry through her teeth and she slumped back.

[bela--dimitrescu]

Bela froze breathless, her vision blurry, as she sat beneath the heavy mountain of blankets. Her remaining hand pressed against her side, fingers digging into her own skin as she fought to anchor herself.

She forced herself to separate the phantom screams of the castle from the reality of the drafty room. Only then did the sound of Alisson’s voice penetrate her awareness. Are you okay?

Bela shifted her golden eyes toward the other woman, her movements sluggish and disjointed. The eldest Dimitrescu offered the smallest, most fragile nod. "Yes." The answer was automatic and perhaps the most pathetic lie she had ever told. Nothing about her was okay. Not the jagged ruin of her body and not the fractured state of her mind. But she lacked the strength to voice it. Explaining her own destruction felt like a task for another lifetime.

Her gaze drifted, then snapped back as she noticed what Alisson held. A plate of food. The blonde stared, her mind struggling to process the visual information. The meat hovered near her face like an ritual offering. She blinked, her focus cycling between the offering and the woman providing it. "…What are you doing?"

The realization followed a heartbeat later: Alisson was trying to feed her. Humiliation passed over Bela’s features. Under any other circumstances, she would have lashed out, her pride demanding she sustain herself. But that version of Bela felt like a ghost. Now, the simple act of lifting her remaining arm felt like moving a mountain.

Her stomach cramped, a traitorous reminder of her own hunger. She despised the sensation, she despised the vulnerability it forced upon her. Slowly and reluctantly she leaned forward and accepted the meat. This minor exertion almost exhausted her again. But she fought it with a stubborn, dying flicker of will. She wasn't ready to succumb to the darkness yet.

Her gaze remained locked on Alisson, searching the weary lines of her face. "..You should be sleeping." The words were a barely audible rasp, yet they carried a weight of genuine concern. Even in her broken state, even with her world reduced to a damp bed and a leaking roof, she worried about Alisson, about the woman she loved.

Bela’s remaining hand moved away from the safety of the blanket. It felt as heavy as lead, each muscle protesting the movement. She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they drifted upward to graze Alisson’s face. She moved them slowly across her cheek, smiling weakly at the other woman.

Then her hand drifted down to reach the plate and with agonizing deliberation, she took another piece of the meat. She paused a moment, her gaze softening, looking at Alisson again with quiet gratitude.

The blonde brought the food to her lips, the effort leaving her visibly winded, but she didn't look away from Alisson. She swallowed, the sustenance doing little to fix her broken spirit, but it was enough to keep the darkness at bay for a few moments longer.

"Thank you…for still being here," Bela whispered. "I don't….deserve you…"

[redimeree]

"You should be sleeping," as if sleep came so easily after surviving a raid on the castle or after having to take the life of a fawn as though it meant nothing.

Alisson shook her head, remaining leaned forward while holding the meat in her right hand. While her dominant hand was visible, her left remained hidden beneath the plate, gripping it with trembling fingers.

────── “ Don't worry... I'm not tired. ” — She lied, pulling her left hand out from beneath the plate to gently pat Bela on the head. It wasn't meant to assert dominance, nor to show strength, much less to make Bela feel lesser. In fact, that simple gesture was an attempt to make her feel better. To make her see that Bela deserved Alisson just as much as Alisson deserved Bela.

────── “ You just focus on getting better, okay? And don't even think about getting out of bed. We're here for each other... Even if it takes us a while to get through this. ” — She added.

For a few seconds, she looked down at her own plate. Alisson was hungry, but just thinking about where the meat had come from...

She let out a shaky sigh, reaching out to pick up a poorly cooked piece of meat. Trying not to think too much about it, she brought it to her mouth and began chewing with obvious discomfort; not because the meat was nearly raw, but because her stomach was still turning at the mere memory of the dead fawn lying on the ground.

A gag escaped her. Alisson coughed, trying to suppress the sensation. However...

────── “ Do you like seared meat? ” — She asked after weakly spitting the piece of meat onto the floor beside the fawn's skinned hide.

[bela--dimitrescu]

🐺- Stalking your muse

(😝)

Bela noticed it almost immediately.

Not because Alisson was particularly loud - quite the opposite, really - but because humans were simply not built for stealth within Castle Dimitrescu.

The first sign had been the faint shift of movement behind one of the corridor arches while Bela reviewed inventory records in the dining hall. The second came later in the library, and by the third occurrence, she had to resist the urge to sigh aloud.

She had specifically given Alisson the day off. And somehow, the woman had chosen to spend it… stalking her.

Bela continued with her duties regardless, outwardly unbothered. She inspected wine stock with the servants, corrected Daniela’s carelessly abandoned clutter in one sitting room, and spent nearly twenty uninterrupted minutes reorganizing documents in her mother’s study, all while catching increasingly obvious glimpses of Alisson.

At one point, she even stopped abruptly in a corridor. Then…..a very unconvincing attempt at hiding behind a statue followed. Bela had nearly smiled. Nearly.

Instead, she simply continued walking as though she had noticed nothing at all. Truthfully, she found herself… curious how long Alisson intended to continue this.

So eventually, Bela adjusted course. Downward, into the lower levels of the castle. Surely this would discourage her.

It did not.

A few moments later, there it was again, the careful sound of footsteps trying very hard not to be heard. Unbelievable.

What sensible human willingly followed a Dimitrescu daughter into the dungeons?

And more importantly…..how had this particular silly human managed to worm her way so deeply into her heart? The thought alone felt absurd.

The eldest daughter paused beside one of the iron cell doors, gaze lowering briefly as she finally allowed herself the smallest exhale through her nose.

"…you are not nearly as subtle as you believe yourself to be," she said calmly into the darkness. "And this is a remarkably questionable way to spend your day off."

[bela--dimitrescu]

Bela’s initial instinct was to recoil, not from the touch, but from the sheer absurdity of the suggestion. She stared at Alisson, her golden eyes flashing with a sharp warning. Bite her? Had the girl lost her mind? Her mother would have seen right through that pantomime in a heartbeat.

A biting glare was all she could manage before Alcina strode into the kitchen, her towering frame bringing an immediate shift in the room's atmosphere. She caught sight of Bela’s wound and the blood immediatly, and her composure faltered for only a second. "Bela?" Alcina’s voice was uncharacteristically hushed. She crossed the room in two strides. "What has happened?"

Bela kept her posture rigid, her chin lifted in a mask of stoic defiance. She didn't look at Alisson, keeping her gaze fixed on her mother. "A minor setback, Mother," the blonde said, her tone clipped and professional. "One of the Moroaică got out from the lower dungeons. I....We were assessing our stock in the storage room and I was… distracted by the incompetence of this maid’s work nearby, and it took a momentary opening."

She shot a searing, dismissive glare toward Alisson, ensuring her mother saw only the disdain of a mistress for a servant. "She is lucky I didn't let the creature finish its work, given the headache she’s caused me today. But I do believe she learned her lesson…." Alisson's tear stained faced definetly helped selling that story.

Alcina looked at Alisson, then back to her daughter. Because it was Bela, her dutiful, capable eldest, she did not question the account. She took the explanation at face value, her expression softening with maternal worry. "You should have been more careful, my dear,"

"Yes, mother." Bela lowered her head. "I will see you at dinner. I need to clean the wound and change into another dress." She turned to Alisson. "And you will help me…." Without warning; she caught Alisson by the collar with a sharp, calculated yank, shoving the maid toward the dining room with enough force to make her stumble. It was a cold, practiced display of dominance, the kind of casual cruelty that marked the difference between a Dimitrescu and the help. She quickly followed Alisson before her mother could ask more questions.

Only when they finally reached her room she relaxed, sighing. "I'm sorry, Alisson."

[redimeree]

Being dragged through the castle was not something Alisson had expected on a day like today. She had expected many things: perhaps taking care of Bela, feeding her, serving her, or even teasing her a little when they were alone. However, unexpected as it was, the fact that Bela had grabbed her by the collar of her uniform and started hauling her toward the bedroom was far better than being left alone in the kitchen with the Lady of the Castle.

Alisson had no trouble faking the fear reflected on her face, as Alcina's presence alone was enough to make her want to run to the bathroom.

────── ❛ Yes, my Lady- I'll help you- ❜ — she said, even while being dragged out of the kitchen. The sensation was not pleasant, but Alisson wasn't exactly being strangled, either. Bela was definitely being careful, she thought.

Once she was free again, Alisson stopped writhing like a fish out of water. She made an offended sound as she dusted off her clothes. Without a doubt, she was still copying some of the blonde's mannerisms.

────── ❛ I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that, but I had a lot of fun being a sack of potatoes. ❜ — The girl replied, as though she hadn't just coughed quietly a moment ago from the brief lack of air.

Alisson approached Bela and carefully sat her down on the bed. She shook her head.

────── ❛ Don't worry. I'm not lying when I say I enjoyed it. You should do it more often. ❜ — She murmured, moving to the side to search for bandages and supplies to tend to the wound.

[auserwahlt]

           𝐒𝐔𝐍  𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋  𝐒𝐄𝐓  𝐎𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐀𝐆𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐌𝐀𝐍.

[bela--dimitrescu]

🐺- Stalking your muse

(😝)

Bela noticed it almost immediately.

Not because Alisson was particularly loud - quite the opposite, really - but because humans were simply not built for stealth within Castle Dimitrescu.

The first sign had been the faint shift of movement behind one of the corridor arches while Bela reviewed inventory records in the dining hall. The second came later in the library, and by the third occurrence, she had to resist the urge to sigh aloud.

She had specifically given Alisson the day off. And somehow, the woman had chosen to spend it… stalking her.

Bela continued with her duties regardless, outwardly unbothered. She inspected wine stock with the servants, corrected Daniela’s carelessly abandoned clutter in one sitting room, and spent nearly twenty uninterrupted minutes reorganizing documents in her mother’s study, all while catching increasingly obvious glimpses of Alisson.

At one point, she even stopped abruptly in a corridor. Then…..a very unconvincing attempt at hiding behind a statue followed. Bela had nearly smiled. Nearly.

Instead, she simply continued walking as though she had noticed nothing at all. Truthfully, she found herself… curious how long Alisson intended to continue this.

So eventually, Bela adjusted course. Downward, into the lower levels of the castle. Surely this would discourage her.

It did not.

A few moments later, there it was again, the careful sound of footsteps trying very hard not to be heard. Unbelievable.

What sensible human willingly followed a Dimitrescu daughter into the dungeons?

And more importantly…..how had this particular silly human managed to worm her way so deeply into her heart? The thought alone felt absurd.

The eldest daughter paused beside one of the iron cell doors, gaze lowering briefly as she finally allowed herself the smallest exhale through her nose.

"…you are not nearly as subtle as you believe yourself to be," she said calmly into the darkness. "And this is a remarkably questionable way to spend your day off."

[bela--dimitrescu]

The eldest daughter she sighed softly. "As for your hypothetical scenario..." she began. Golden eyes lifted to meet hers. "If our roles were reversed, I would be furious. I would be standing exactly where you are now, attempting to convince you that throwing yourself in front of blades is an unacceptable habit. And I would fail." Because Alisson was stubborn, painfully stubborn. Bela knew that better than most.

Her hand rose once more, gently brushing a dark strand of hair behind the maid's ear. "You see?" she continued quietly. "The situation changes very little."

The firmness in Alisson's voice should not have been surprising. Yet, somehow, it was, perhaps because moments earlier, she had been on the verge of tears. Now, she was issuing demands.

"Period?" Her brow arched. "You are becoming remarkably bold." Not that she truly minded. Quite the opposite.

A small, genuine smile finally touched Bela’s lips. Here she was, the eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu, completely disarmed by the sheer, fierce demand to be cared for. "Very well," Bela murmured, her voice a low, melodic hum in the quiet room. She didn't pull away completely, instead opting to trace the curve of Alisson’s earlobe with her thumb. "If it brings you peace of mind to fuss over me, I suppose I can surrender to your..." She paused, her eyes glinting with that familiar amusement. "...firmness."

She shifted, testing the weight on her side, but kept her hand resting firmly on Alisson’s cheek, tethering her. "I can-"

Suddenly, Bela's head tilted slightly, listening. A few moments later, the unmistakable sound of heels striking marble echoed faintly through the corridor beyond the kitchens.

The softness in Bela's expression vanished almost immediately, not entirely, but enough to restore the careful, cold composure expected of the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. It was obvious who the footsteps belonged to: Alcina Dimitrescu.

Her gaze returned to Alisson. For the briefest moment, something almost apologetic crossed her features before she pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for absolute silence.

[redimeree]

Now that Bela was using that tone she always used whenever she scolded Alisson... Maybe she did have a point. The human lowered her head like a dog tucking its tail between its legs. She cleared her throat and fell silent. Sure, Bela was right, but she wasn't about to admit it out loud.

The young maid tilted her head slightly, allowing the blonde to touch her hair, her cheek, or her head. It was unusual for Alisson to let someone touch her so openly. Normally, she avoided physical contact as if it were the Black Death.

────── ❛ Yes... Of course you can surrender, as you put it, to my care. You'll see, I'll take very good care of you... Very good care, yes. ❜ — She practically cooed, extending her arms forward and rubbing Bela's head with an affection that was... Overwhelming. And aggressive.

Alisson heard the footsteps too. She raised an eyebrow, noticing how heavy they sounded and how quickly they were approaching. From those details alone, the human figured out who it was before the figure even appeared in the doorway.

Of course, it was Alcina Dimitrescu, the Lady of the Castle. Working in a place like Castle Dimitrescu meant knowing how to decipher even others' breaths.

For a few seconds, Alisson found herself forced to turn her head toward Bela. Once again, she could feel her movements becoming stiffer and stiffer. Terror was beginning to paralyze her, something that happened all too often whenever she saw her girlfriend's mother.

As though her life depended on it —which, admittedly, it did— Alisson slid off the kitchen table with smooth but hurried movements. She grabbed Bela's hand and guided it to her own hair.

────── ❛ Pretend you're biting me, so I can cover your wound with the excuse that I'm trying to push you off me. ❜ — She whispered, her voice even smaller than usual.

The idea sounded good in theory, but, well... Perhaps Alisson wasn't quite as clever as she liked to think.

[bela--dimitrescu]

Lone Survivors @redimeree

The house had likely been abandoned for years. Its roof leaked when it rained, and the windows had long since been boarded over. It was still better than the alternative.

Bela slept. Or rather, she drifted through a hollow, unconscious haze. The bed had been dragged close to the fireplace, but the fire and blankets offered little comfort against the chill that seemed to radiate from her own skin.

The journey away from the village had nearly cost her what little life she had left.

The ruin of her left arm ended just below the elbow, jagged crystal growths yielded to weakly buzzing flies that tried repairing the limb. Every attempt at regeneration was a slow agonizing process.

But worse were the wounds that no amount of recovery could reach. It had been days since the castle fell. Since the loss of her family. Bela rarely spoke of them, she rarely spoke at all. When awake, she spent hours staring into the void, her golden eyes unfocused, as if a vital piece of her mind had remained in the castle.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open. She drew in a sharp, rattling breath, her gaze darting across the room. Alisson was nowhere to be seen. The chair beside the bed stood empty.

A cold tightness coiled in Bela’s chest, close to panic. "Alisson...?" The blonde tried to heave herself up, but a fresh bolt of agony tore through her, forcing a stifled cry through her teeth and she slumped back.

[bela--dimitrescu]

redimeree

Of course Alisson had done it. She had taken the life of a defenseless animal for Bela. And she would do it again, even if it meant vomiting once again from guilt, crying while the deer whimpered in pain, or feeling like she was about to faint because of her own actions. Alisson leaned slightly toward Bela, her eyes still cold and distant. She blinked, trying to put on a better expression so she would not worry the blonde any further. ────── “ ...Wait for what, Bela? If you'd gone out there, you would've been practically bait... Worse than me. At least I can run. ” — She said, her gaze lowered slightly. She cleared her throat when Bela apologized. The words felt empty at a moment like this; a moment in which all Alisson could feel was raw guilt. She was the one who should have been apologizing, not Bela. ────── “ What are you apologizing for? ” — She shot back quietly, sounding more bitter than she intended.

She let out a heavy sigh. The tears were there, of course, but unseen. Alisson was crying on the inside. She was afraid. Afraid of losing Bela. Afraid of being left alone. Afraid of having no one. Afraid that Bela would cease to exist. Just like the little deer lying there with those ugly wounds carved into its small body. Oh God. What had she done? The young woman moved a little closer to Bela. She wanted to lean against her shoulder, curl up in her lap like she used to in the castle. She wanted to serve her while constantly fearing she might do something wrong. She wanted to feel the desperation of being hunted by the family again. She wanted to read with Daniela again, and be startled by Cassandra suddenly appearing in front of her in the middle of the hallway. She wanted to go back to how things used to be. ────── “ I'm coming, don't worry, Bubu. ” — She replied, quickly kneeling beside the blonde. Carefully, she took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn't want to cause any more pain than there already was. ────── “ It's okay. I'll... I'll skin the deer now so you can eat properly, alright? And- And... If you don't like it... You-... You can drink my blood... Okay?... ” — She sounded awfully comforting for a mere human. She just wanted to believe that Bela was going to be alright under her care.

The bitterness in Alisson's voice struck almost harder than any wound Ethan Winters had left behind. Not because it was cruel, because it wasn't. It was fear. And Bela had heard enough fear in her lifetime to recognize it immediately.

Golden eyes lowered briefly to their joined hands. And for a moment she said nothing. What could she possibly say? That everything would be alright? Mother was gone. Cassandra and Daniela were gone. And Bela herself could barely sit upright without exhausting herself. The words would have been a lie.

She had failed her entire family and became another burden Alisson now had to carry.

Her hand weakly returned the squeeze despite lacking much strength behind it. "You are not alone." The words emerged after a long silence, and Bela slowly lifted her gaze but the effort felt strangely difficult. As though the room had become heavier. "You still have me." Though even as she said it, part of her wondered how reassuring that truly was in her current state.

Then came the offer and immediately Bela shook her head. The movement was small but firm. "I'm…not drinking your blood." The very idea felt unbearable.

Her eyelids drooped and the blonde had to force them open. The effort of remaining awake was becoming absurdly difficult now. Her vision blurred even more, still, her gaze sought Alisson. As though afraid she might disappear if Bela looked away.

"You should…" she began quietly. The thought slipped away, gone before she could finish it. Bela frowned faintly, trying again. "You should….rest." The words were slurred by exhaustion.

"You look…" The sentence never finished. Her eyes drifted closed, the fight was becoming impossible. Slowly, Bela's grip loosened as she drifted into unconsciousness again.

___

A few hours passed. Bela's breathing had long since lost its steady rhythm. She shifted beneath the blanket, muttering. Her remaining hand clenched tightly against the blankets.

"Mother!" The blonde jolted upright. The cry tore from her throat before she was fully awake and sharp pain immediately followed. It shot through her damaged body hard enough to steal the rest of the breath from her lungs. For a moment she simply sat there, eyes wide, chest heaving. "…sorry…."

[redimeree]

Alisson watched Bela with growing concern. She could see her eyes doing that thing they did right before she crashed. She had already seen it happen three times that afternoon.

And this was the fourth.

The human simply waited for the inevitable. She could see Bela's body beginning to sway gently, her words coming out slightly more slurred than usual. This was no longer just pain. This was someone, literally, on the verge of collapsing.

Alisson tried to predict when it would happen, she truly did, but when Bela suddenly fell forward onto her, the human let out a low grunt.

How was this possible? How could someone so thin weigh so much?

She gasped, trying to recover her breath as she placed her hands on Bela's shoulders. With a shove fueled by brute force, Alisson tried to push her off.

She couldn't.

She could feel her muscles trembling with the effort. Heat coursed through her arms from how hard she was trying and failing. Sure, she wasn't alone anymore... She had Bela. That was easy to say, but the truth was that seeing Bela like this only hurt more.

She was grateful that she was alive, of course. But she couldn't even stay awake for five minutes straight. That hurt more than anything else: seeing someone who had once been so regal reduced to this.

Eventually, Alisson managed to lay Bela back down on the bed, using the full strength of her body to push her onto the mattress. The blonde barely moved. She looked completely knocked out.

[ . . . ]

It was night when Bela woke up.

The shadows painted the cabin in muted darkness, and Alisson sat nearby with a knife in hand. There was blood everywhere; on her hands, on her clothes... Even on her cheeks, damp with tears that had run all the way down to her chin.

The hunt? The poor animal no longer had any skin. Several important cuts of meat were missing as well, removed together with the hide earlier.

Alisson didn't know how to hunt. She didn't know how to skin animals. She didn't know how to survive. She was doing the best she could.

She jumped when Bela suddenly sat up.

With a sharp hiss, she spun around and stared at her, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Letting out a breath, she dropped the knife onto the table and hurried over to Bela, who was now buried beneath even more layers.

One blanket. Two blankets. Three blankets. Even old, dusty clothes Alisson had found in the cabin's wardrobes: coats, jackets, anything that might help retain the blonde's body heat.

────── “ Are you okay? ” — she asked, approaching the bed. Alisson didn't even bother removing the blankets so Bela could get up and eat. Instead, she brought the food to her.

There were two plates: one with raw meat and another with meat lightly cooked, barely seared by the fire to trick her own brain into accepting it. The fire wasn't good for much, and Alisson had to find one way or another to keep herself alive.

With the plate of raw meat resting on her lap, the human picked up a piece with her hand and brought it toward Bela.

────── “ Eat. You have to eat. ” — She ordered, practically pushing the piece toward Bela's mouth. It looked like she was trying to choke her, but in reality, she was simply desperate to see her get better.

[redimeree]

This is scary af, Kate (the bot) just died in that hook and he's just standing there like I'll be next. He ended up opening the exit gate for me, though. Such a gentleman 🤝

[bela--dimitrescu]

Lone Survivors @redimeree

The house had likely been abandoned for years. Its roof leaked when it rained, and the windows had long since been boarded over. It was still better than the alternative.

Bela slept. Or rather, she drifted through a hollow, unconscious haze. The bed had been dragged close to the fireplace, but the fire and blankets offered little comfort against the chill that seemed to radiate from her own skin.

The journey away from the village had nearly cost her what little life she had left.

The ruin of her left arm ended just below the elbow, jagged crystal growths yielded to weakly buzzing flies that tried repairing the limb. Every attempt at regeneration was a slow agonizing process.

But worse were the wounds that no amount of recovery could reach. It had been days since the castle fell. Since the loss of her family. Bela rarely spoke of them, she rarely spoke at all. When awake, she spent hours staring into the void, her golden eyes unfocused, as if a vital piece of her mind had remained in the castle.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open. She drew in a sharp, rattling breath, her gaze darting across the room. Alisson was nowhere to be seen. The chair beside the bed stood empty.

A cold tightness coiled in Bela’s chest, close to panic. "Alisson...?" The blonde tried to heave herself up, but a fresh bolt of agony tore through her, forcing a stifled cry through her teeth and she slumped back.

[redimeree]

It was a cold morning. Crows cawed from the branches overhead, and deep within the forest stood a small abandoned cabin. It was Alisson's old home, nothing more than a building her parents had left behind when they moved to the village that had been destroyed only a few days ago. It was far away, yes, and undoubtedly in poor condition, but it was stable enough to serve as a temporary shelter.

Bela was in terrible shape, and Alisson could not allow the main pillar of her life to crumble. So, while the blonde was caught in one of her many short, insatiable naps, the human seized the opportunity.

She grabbed an axe, a weapon heavier than it looked, one her father had always kept in the yard, and a burlap sack that looked as though it could tear apart at any moment, then left the cabin to hunt.

[ . . . ]

By the time Bela woke up, Alisson had just opened the front door.

Her expression was distant, disturbed, as though she were reevaluating every choice she had ever made. Truthfully, she was. She had just killed — killed — an animal. A living being. An innocent creature. A creature that had wanted to keep living. For Bela. All for Bela.

She had taken a life out of selfishness. Or perhaps out of survival. That was what she kept telling herself.

Dragging the axe behind her, Alisson stepped into the cabin and shut the door. She left the weapon leaning against the doorframe, stained with blood, rusted, and barely sharp enough to do its job.

Seeing Bela awake somehow made her feel a little better.

Slung over her shoulder was the sack she had taken earlier, carrying something heavy enough to sway from side to side as she walked toward the room.

As if it were something worth presenting, Alisson let the sack fall to the floor with a heavy thud and opened it, revealing the body of a young deer that no longer breathed. Uneven cuts, desperate yet brutal, marked the animal's body.

The human let out a slow breath. She looked exhausted, but the pain hidden behind those blue eyes told a different story. She did not say a single word. Instead, she removed her coat and gently draped it over Bela's shoulders.

[bela--dimitrescu]

Bela stared at the deer and for several long moments, she said nothing. The sight of blood should have stirred something familiar. Like instinct and hunger.

Instead, all she could focus on was Alisson. She looked awfully exhausted. Slowly, Bela's gaze lifted. "...You did that." Her voice was rough from disuse, and talking alone felt like a chore.

The coat settled heavily across her weak shoulders and Bela's remaining hand closed weakly around the fabric. And for a moment, she simply looked at the other woman. Then at the deer. Then back to Alisson. Something unpleasant twisted in her chest: Guilt.

She knew what condition she was in. Knew how much effort it must have taken for Alisson to bring down an animal alone. And all because she was too injured to hunt herself. The eldest Dimitrescu felt completely useless.

"You...should have waited." The words lacked any real conviction. Even Bela knew that. Waited for what? For her to recover? At the rate her body was healing, that could take weeks or months.

Alisson had to kill because Bela needed blood to survive. The realization sat heavily with her. "I am sorry." The words came quietly. Golden eyes lowered toward the blankets gathered around her legs.

The blonde shifted slightly, immediately regretting it as pain shot through her. Worse still was the exhaustion. She had been awake for only a few minutes, yet already her vision threatened to blur again. Every blink lasted a little too long. Her body felt impossibly heavy, as though simply remaining conscious required effort she no longer possessed.

But Bela fought it stubbornly. She did not want to sleep again. Sleep only meant nightmares.

Her gaze remained fixed on Alisson, watching her through heavy eyelids. For a moment, something vulnerable flickered across her expression and slowly, Bela lifted her remaining hand. The movement was weak and painfully slow.

Yet she persisted reaching out. Not for the coat, not for the deer. Only for Alisson. Her fingers trembled from the effort before stopping halfway between them. "Al..." The blonde swallowed. Even speaking felt difficult.

Eventually, she managed a quiet: "Come....here." The request was barely more than a whisper but her hand remained outstretched, waiting. Not because she needed anything practical. Simply because she wanted to feel that Alisson was still there before sleep tried to take her again.

[redimeree]

Of course Alisson had done it. She had taken the life of a defenseless animal for Bela. And she would do it again, even if it meant vomiting once again from guilt, crying while the deer whimpered in pain, or feeling like she was about to faint because of her own actions.

Alisson leaned slightly toward Bela, her eyes still cold and distant. She blinked, trying to put on a better expression so she would not worry the blonde any further.

────── “ ...Wait for what, Bela? If you'd gone out there, you would've been practically bait... Worse than me. At least I can run. ” — She said, her gaze lowered slightly.

She cleared her throat when Bela apologized. The words felt empty at a moment like this; a moment in which all Alisson could feel was raw guilt. She was the one who should have been apologizing, not Bela.

────── “ What are you apologizing for? ” — She shot back quietly, sounding more bitter than she intended.

She let out a heavy sigh. The tears were there, of course, but unseen. Alisson was crying on the inside. She was afraid.

Afraid of losing Bela. Afraid of being left alone. Afraid of having no one. Afraid that Bela would cease to exist. Just like the little deer lying there with those ugly wounds carved into its small body.

Oh God. What had she done?

The young woman moved a little closer to Bela. She wanted to lean against her shoulder, curl up in her lap like she used to in the castle. She wanted to serve her while constantly fearing she might do something wrong. She wanted to feel the desperation of being hunted by the family again. She wanted to read with Daniela again, and be startled by Cassandra suddenly appearing in front of her in the middle of the hallway.

She wanted to go back to how things used to be.

────── “ I'm coming, don't worry, Bubu. ” — She replied, quickly kneeling beside the blonde. Carefully, she took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn't want to cause any more pain than there already was. ────── “ It's okay. I'll... I'll skin the deer now so you can eat properly, alright? And- And... If you don't like it... You-... You can drink my blood... Okay?... ” — She sounded awfully comforting for a mere human. She just wanted to believe that Bela was going to be alright under her care.

[bela--dimitrescu]

Lone Survivors @redimeree

The house had likely been abandoned for years. Its roof leaked when it rained, and the windows had long since been boarded over. It was still better than the alternative.

Bela slept. Or rather, she drifted through a hollow, unconscious haze. The bed had been dragged close to the fireplace, but the fire and blankets offered little comfort against the chill that seemed to radiate from her own skin.

The journey away from the village had nearly cost her what little life she had left.

The ruin of her left arm ended just below the elbow, jagged crystal growths yielded to weakly buzzing flies that tried repairing the limb. Every attempt at regeneration was a slow agonizing process.

But worse were the wounds that no amount of recovery could reach. It had been days since the castle fell. Since the loss of her family. Bela rarely spoke of them, she rarely spoke at all. When awake, she spent hours staring into the void, her golden eyes unfocused, as if a vital piece of her mind had remained in the castle.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open. She drew in a sharp, rattling breath, her gaze darting across the room. Alisson was nowhere to be seen. The chair beside the bed stood empty.

A cold tightness coiled in Bela’s chest, close to panic. "Alisson...?" The blonde tried to heave herself up, but a fresh bolt of agony tore through her, forcing a stifled cry through her teeth and she slumped back.

[redimeree]

It was a cold morning. Crows cawed from the branches overhead, and deep within the forest stood a small abandoned cabin. It was Alisson's old home, nothing more than a building her parents had left behind when they moved to the village that had been destroyed only a few days ago. It was far away, yes, and undoubtedly in poor condition, but it was stable enough to serve as a temporary shelter.

Bela was in terrible shape, and Alisson could not allow the main pillar of her life to crumble. So, while the blonde was caught in one of her many short, insatiable naps, the human seized the opportunity.

She grabbed an axe, a weapon heavier than it looked, one her father had always kept in the yard, and a burlap sack that looked as though it could tear apart at any moment, then left the cabin to hunt.

[ . . . ]

By the time Bela woke up, Alisson had just opened the front door.

Her expression was distant, disturbed, as though she were reevaluating every choice she had ever made. Truthfully, she was. She had just killed — killed — an animal. A living being. An innocent creature. A creature that had wanted to keep living. For Bela. All for Bela.

She had taken a life out of selfishness. Or perhaps out of survival. That was what she kept telling herself.

Dragging the axe behind her, Alisson stepped into the cabin and shut the door. She left the weapon leaning against the doorframe, stained with blood, rusted, and barely sharp enough to do its job.

Seeing Bela awake somehow made her feel a little better.

Slung over her shoulder was the sack she had taken earlier, carrying something heavy enough to sway from side to side as she walked toward the room.

As if it were something worth presenting, Alisson let the sack fall to the floor with a heavy thud and opened it, revealing the body of a young deer that no longer breathed. Uneven cuts, desperate yet brutal, marked the animal's body.

The human let out a slow breath. She looked exhausted, but the pain hidden behind those blue eyes told a different story. She did not say a single word. Instead, she removed her coat and gently draped it over Bela's shoulders.

[redimeree]

Continuing from (x) | @sworn-in-blood

Ghostface’s stalking was something done like an art form. First came the phone calls; the phone ringing in the middle of the night, the breathing on the other end of the line... Then came the physical appearances. At first, distant; watching from afar. Watching how that man had Cass’s heart. The heart that, once, had belonged to her.

Finally, came breaking into the house. Ghostface was never seen coming; nor was it ever expected. The act began with a dark figure in a corner of the room. Apparently, the person behind that cheap mask had waited for Cass to leave home before striking.

With a shove, the police officer’s head was slammed against the wardrobe in a harsh impact.

She could see the suffering on Matías’ face, and it gave her a twisted, euphoric feeling.

Pleasure.

She could see, exactly, the moment Matías realized there was no escape. His eyes, filled with desperation, made Ghostface’s thirst for blood grow by the second. The urge to split the man open from top to bottom, lying helpless on the floor, almost made the woman pant in satisfaction.

In a blur of motion, Ghostface leaned down and straddled her victim. She raised the knife above her head and drove it down with force. Her target? His chest.

[redimeree]

🫣feed me

────── ❛ Family is a privilege, not an obligation. Sharing fucking DNA doesn’t automatically make you important, nor does it make you someone I love. I’ve found literal monsters more comforting than some people. ❜

[redimeree]

Why does Chris's apartment look a lot like my vision of Alisson's apartment, now people will think that I copied him

[occasionalrpmemes]

Send me a 🫣 and my character will share one of their unpopular / salty opinions.

Optional: include a topic!

[bela--dimitrescu]

Send 👀 to walk in on my muse naked (I'll never get tired of this)

When the door opened, Bela looked up immediately, more out of instinct than surprise, golden eyes settling on Alisson standing frozen in the doorway.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

The eldest daughter stood beside the bathtub she had just stepped out of, blonde hair damp against her shoulders.

"...You are usually better at knocking," Bela remarked at last, her voice calm but warm.

She made no attempt to cover herself. Instead, her gaze lingered on Alisson a moment longer before lowering, fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from her neck with deliberate slowness.

Bela exhaled softly, the faintest hint of amusement finally touching her lips. "Alisson... you are staring," she murmured.

"But since you are already here," Bela added smoothly, tilting her head slightly, "you may hand me my robe."

[bela--dimitrescu]

Bela’s breath hitched, a low, contented sound vibrating in her chest as she looked up at Alisson. The weight of her girlfriend pinning her to the bed was intoxicating. She knew she could easily slide out from underneath, a simple flex of her strength would send Alisson tumbling, but the thought was discarded the moment it formed. There was an overwhelming, tender warmth in being entirely, utterly claimed, and Bela wanted this. She wanted all of this.

Instead of resistance, the blonde offered an invitation. Her fingers found the collar of her robe and the thin strap of her nightgown. With a slow, deliberate movement, she tugged them downward, easing the fabric aside to reveal the smooth skin of her shoulder and the graceful, pale curve of her collarbone.

"Go on," Bela whispered, her eyes glowing with affection and an unspoken demand. She didn't look away, holding Alisson’s gaze with a fierce, possessive adoration as she bared herself completely to her lover’s touch. "I'm not going anywhere."

The eldest Dimitrescu offered her skin as a canvas, waiting for whatever new mark Alisson decided to leave behind.

[redimeree]

The moment Bela was completely exposed to Alisson, the latter took full advantage of the opportunity. Her kisses were not limited to Bela's shoulders or neck alone. No. They also found their way to her chest, her face, her arms, her wrists. Alisson doted on the other woman's body as though it were something worthy of admiration. To her eyes, Bela was a goddess. Her goddess.

[ . . . ]

The next morning was the first time Alisson hadn't woken up to an alarm clock, the stress of her routine, or the need to rush to Bela's side the moment she got out of bed.

Why would she, when Bela was already beside her?

With half-lidded eyes, the young woman focused her blurry gaze on the blonde; a slender, delicate figure lying close against her like a princess. Alisson blinked, allowing the memories to flood her mind once more. A shiver of satisfaction ran down her spine at the mere recollection. She let out a sigh and sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

The scene spoke for itself: a pile of clothes on one side, a bathrobe on the other, and sheets stained with a mixture of sweat and God knew what else.

Ah, and most importantly: the marks.

It wasn't only Bela who was covered in marks from head to toe — Alisson was as well.

The human took a moment to glance beneath the sheets: makeup stains, reddened skin, and... Was that blood? Who knew.

The young woman turned toward Bela. She wasn't sure whether the blonde was awake or still lost in the world of dreams, so she simply kept staring at her as if the mere desire to be with her might be enough to wake her up.

[bela--dimitrescu]

🐺- Stalking your muse

(😝)

Bela noticed it almost immediately.

Not because Alisson was particularly loud - quite the opposite, really - but because humans were simply not built for stealth within Castle Dimitrescu.

The first sign had been the faint shift of movement behind one of the corridor arches while Bela reviewed inventory records in the dining hall. The second came later in the library, and by the third occurrence, she had to resist the urge to sigh aloud.

She had specifically given Alisson the day off. And somehow, the woman had chosen to spend it… stalking her.

Bela continued with her duties regardless, outwardly unbothered. She inspected wine stock with the servants, corrected Daniela’s carelessly abandoned clutter in one sitting room, and spent nearly twenty uninterrupted minutes reorganizing documents in her mother’s study, all while catching increasingly obvious glimpses of Alisson.

At one point, she even stopped abruptly in a corridor. Then…..a very unconvincing attempt at hiding behind a statue followed. Bela had nearly smiled. Nearly.

Instead, she simply continued walking as though she had noticed nothing at all. Truthfully, she found herself… curious how long Alisson intended to continue this.

So eventually, Bela adjusted course. Downward, into the lower levels of the castle. Surely this would discourage her.

It did not.

A few moments later, there it was again, the careful sound of footsteps trying very hard not to be heard. Unbelievable.

What sensible human willingly followed a Dimitrescu daughter into the dungeons?

And more importantly…..how had this particular silly human managed to worm her way so deeply into her heart? The thought alone felt absurd.

The eldest daughter paused beside one of the iron cell doors, gaze lowering briefly as she finally allowed herself the smallest exhale through her nose.

"…you are not nearly as subtle as you believe yourself to be," she said calmly into the darkness. "And this is a remarkably questionable way to spend your day off."

[redimeree]

So this was what people meant when they said everything could change in less time than it took a rooster to crow.

Alisson had never imagined the maids would end up like that. Wearing clothes so similar to those of the castle’s lower-ranking servants. With bodies so thin and skeletal... Dead while still walking. Her eyes widened in horror, and as if someone had thrown ice water onto a raging fire, her frustration with Bela vanished instantly.

Was this really how it would end? Was this how she would die? Not by Alcina. Not by Cassandra. Not even by Mother Miranda or some lycan lurking in the snow. She would be killed by someone who had once been her coworker.

No... Not that.

She would be killed by her own trust. She would die because she had walked into a forbidden place believing nothing would happen to her.

Alisson froze in terror, shock coursing through her veins as if it were life itself. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the end.

[ . . . ]

A spray of warm, sticky blood splattered at her feet. She couldn’t tell where it had come from; her body felt no pain. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

The sight before her made her stomach drop. Bela — tall, regal — was bent slightly forward, as though something had been driven into her abdomen. The creature from before lay crumpled on the ground, its head rolling across the damp stone floor.

By the time Alisson fully understood what had happened, her heart was already at its limit. Bela had taken the stab meant for her. She had stood between her and death. The severed head. The collapsing body. Even for someone who worked in a place like Castle Dimitrescu, this was too much.

A sharp pain pierced her chest. It felt as though the blade had been buried in her instead of Bela. Shock was followed by disbelief, and Alisson instinctively pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady the sensation. The adrenaline still raced relentlessly through her veins.

────── ❛ Bela- ❜ — She breathed, letting out a shaky exhale. Maybe she was asking for help? She felt like she was suffocating. Dizziness followed, then a brief stumble. Her voice came out strained and rough, as though speaking itself required effort.

She lowered her gaze, staring at the blood, darker than any human’s, pouring and dripping onto the floor like a waterfall. It just made all worse.

────── ❛ Why- Why did you do that- ❜ — She swallowed hard. Thick. Then she forced herself to look up. ────── ❛ I’m fine, but... You... You... ❜

The stammering returned in full force.

Alisson was going to cry. Apologies didn't have value now that Bela was hurt. The maid wanted to help, to heal, to protect, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't do anything. She was nobody. Nothing.

[bela--dimitrescu]

The blonde watched as Alisson stumbled, watched the color drain from her face, watched her struggle to breathe through panic and shock alike. Immediately, concern replaced any lingering thoughts of her own injury.

"Alisson." Her voice softened. Bela took a step forward despite the blood still seeping between her fingers. "I will be fine." The statement came without hesitation. As though it were the simplest fact in the world. "It is painful, yes. Annoying, certainly." A faint grimace crossed her features. "But it is not fatal. I have survived worse."

Her gaze lowered briefly to the wound before returning to Alisson. "It will heal quickly." Not instantly. But quickly enough. Far quicker than any human could manage.

Then Bela's expression softened completely. The sight before her was becoming increasingly concerning. The unsteady breathing. The way Alisson seemed unable to focus on anything except the blood.

Suddenly the apology from moments earlier felt utterly insignificant. "Alisson." More firmly this time. "I protected you because I love you." The confession came so naturally that Bela barely realized she had spoken it aloud. As though there had never been another answer. The idea of standing aside and allowing that creature to reach Alisson had never even occurred to her. "If given the opportunity again, I would do exactly the same." Every single time. Without hesitation.

Then Bela noticed another slight sway in Alisson's posture. Immediately, her attention sharpened. The rapid breathing and the way her hand remained pressed against her chest.

The wound in Bela's side became secondary.

The blonde stepped closer, studying her for only a moment before reaching a decision. There would be no argument. No opportunity for Alisson to insist she was fine.

Without warning but surprising gentleness, Bela simply lifted her. One arm slid beneath her knees, the other securing itself around her back as she gathered Alisson effortlessly into her arms. Ignoring the fresh pain that protested from her side, Bela adjusted her hold and turned toward the staircase.

The dungeon's distant hissing and mournful cries faded behind them as she carried Alisson through the castle corridors.

Only once they reached the kitchens did Bela finally set her carefully down atop one of the counters. As though she were something fragile.

"Stay and breathe."

Bela disappeared only briefly before returning with a glass of water. She pressed it into Alisson's hands without ceremony. "Drink." Golden eyes studied her closely, while she listened to her heartbeat

"I meant what I said," she added quietly after a moment. Her gaze lowered briefly to the floor before returning to the woman she loved. "I protected you because I love you." A small pause followed. "And because the thought of losing you is considerably worse than being stabbed." The dryness of the remark almost hid the sincerity behind it. Almost.

[redimeree]

Alisson, Alisson, Alisson. No matter how many times her name was called, Alisson could only replay the same image in her mind: the maid about to slit her open, and feel the same thing over and over again — blood against her skin. The scene repeated itself in her head again and again, and now she couldn't help but feel guilty.

This had all been her fault; first, for going somewhere she shouldn't have. Second, for starting an argument with Bela.

She could feel her breath leaving her lips in heavy clouds of air, horribly warm despite the cold surrounding them. Her gaze met Bela's.

She could see the worry behind those eyes. The concern, the desperation, the fear. Could Bela really be afraid? Brave as she was... And yet there she stood, in front of Alisson, as if losing her would be the worst thing in the world.

I should've been the one stabbed, not Bela, Alisson kept telling herself. Of course, at a moment like this, there was no room in her head for rational thoughts, even as the blonde kept insisting that she was going to be fine.

When Bela insisted that she would do it again, that was when the dam finally broke. Alisson lowered her head, utterly overwhelmed by every sensation coursing through her body. Fear of death, the pain of possibly losing Bela, even fear of the darkness itself.

────── ❛ Of course you'd do it again. You're an idiot. ❜ — She spoke between shaky breaths. Her cheeks were already speckled with tears and tinted red by a mixture of stress and affection. She loved Bela too, but her throat was tied so tightly in knots that she couldn't bring herself to say it without crying even more.

In the blink of an eye, Alisson found herself wrapped in a pair of slender yet firm arms. This time, she didn't complain, aware that it was probably necessary to keep herself from having some sort of heart attack, however unlikely that might be.

She sobbed the entire way, her arms around the blonde's neck as she tried to calm herself down. She didn't want to cause any more stress with her crying. After all, Alisson remembered how, before she had ended up in the castle, her family had always told her not to cry.

She remained seated on the kitchen counter, helpless, patiently waiting for Bela to return. When Alisson found a glass of water pressed gently against her lips, she raised her hands to hold it and took a small sip. Staring blankly ahead, head lowered, she finally spoke.

────── ❛ ... I should've been the one who got hurt, not you... ❜ — She muttered it under her breath, making a half-hearted attempt to keep Bela from hearing her clearly.

[bela--dimitrescu]

Bela’s hand paused against the rim of the counter. Of course she had heard it. Even muttered beneath Alisson’s breath, the words carried to her with perfect clarity.

For a moment, she simply watched her: the bowed head, the trembling fingers white-knuckled around the glass, the damp, tear-stained cheeks. Suddenly, the ache in her own side felt distant, almost trivial.

A quiet sigh escaped her. "That is nonsense."

Her voice held no harshness. only an unshakable, cool certainty. The eldest daughter stepped forward, closing the distance and carefully brushed a loose strand of hair from Alisson’s temple. "You think you should have been the one to take the blade?"

Bela offered a faint, tired shake of her head. "No. Had that dagger struck you, we would be having a very different conversation." She paused, her expression softening. "You are human, Alisson. You do not heal as I do."

She glanced down, almost dispassionately, at the blood-slicked wound visible through the tear in her dress. The skin was already knitting itself back together, slowly but with inevitable precision.

"In a few hours, this will be nothing more than an unpleasant memory," Bela continued. "You, however, would be confined to a bed for weeks....if not worse."

With gentle persistence, Bela tilted Alisson’s chin upward until their eyes locked. Her thumb traced the line of Alisson’s jaw, wiping away a lingering tear. "Listen to me," she murmured, her voice losing its clinical edge. "I am alive. I am healing. You are safe."

Three facts. The only ones that mattered.

Bela held her gaze for a long moment, studying the woman she loved, before leaning in to rest her forehead against Alisson’s. It was a rare, quiet intimacy, a grounding weight.

"Stop imagining worlds in which I let you get stabbed for me," she whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I dislike those worlds immensely."

She breathed in, her voice softening to a near-breath against Alisson's skin. "And I dislike seeing you cry even more."

[redimeree]

Of course, to Bela, it was nonsense. After all, Alisson couldn't really blame her; from anyone else's perspective, those words would sound ridiculous. However, for Alisson, who carried guilt on her shoulders like a heavy backpack, it was nothing more than an unbearably irritating feeling.

Irritating and painful.

Her heart beat with the essence of life, of course, but also with its pain. With the curse of feeling everything far too intensely.

────── ❛ You're only saying that because you're the one who got stabbed, not me. Imagine if our roles were reversed and I was the one stepping between that dagger and you. ❜ — She muttered before taking another sip of water.

Alisson thought, and thought, and thought. She held the water puffed inside her cheeks like a squirrel, concentrating so hard on her thoughts that she almost forgot to swallow.

Of course, she was human by nature; she could have died... Honestly? Perhaps she would have preferred that over watching, through half-lidded eyes, the woman she loved being stabbed by a sharpened blade.

But then again... If that had happened, Bela would be the one suffering like she was now — perhaps even worse. And Alisson wouldn't wish her feelings on anyone.

────── ❛ Fine, whatever you say, missy... But you're going to let me take care of you until that heals. Period. ❜ — Suddenly, her voice carried a surprising firmness.

The young woman closed her eyes when Bela pressed her forehead against hers and simply remained still. If this made her feel better... Who was Alisson to complain?