Rescued From the Nightmares
Miracina x Fem! Reader
TW: Blood, Mentions of ED Behaviors, Mentions of Poison and Torture
Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță = Calm down, little angel. You're safe
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Amidst the dense forest, Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela, prowled gracefully, their senses sharp and instincts honed for the hunt. The crisp air carried whispers of prey, but something else lingered—a foreign scent, unfamiliar and intriguing.
Bela's keen nose twitched as she caught wind of it, her brows furrowing in curiosity. "Mother," she murmured, her voice a soft melody in the twilight, "do you smell that?"
Alcina, towering and regal, nodded, her crimson lips curling into a predatory smile. "Yes, my dear. I've noticed it too," she replied, her golden eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Let us follow it and see what secrets this forest holds."
With a nod from their mother, the Dimitrescu daughters ventured deeper into the woods, their steps silent and purposeful. Alcina's directive echoed in their minds—explore, hunt, but remain vigilant.
Bela suggested they split up to cover more ground, a notion that Alcina entertained. "Very well," she conceded, her voice carrying authority softened by maternal concern. "Bela, Cassandra, you shall pair up. Daniela, you are with me."
And so they dispersed, weaving through the shadows with practiced ease. Bela and Cassandra navigated the labyrinth of trees until they stumbled upon a clearing, where a young woman lay unconscious, her form draped in a cloak of darkness and blood.
Cassandra's brow furrowed in concern as she knelt beside the fallen figure. "What do we do, Bela?" she asked, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the night.
Bela hesitated, her gaze flickering between her sister and the stranger at their feet. "We bring her to Mother," she decided, her tone resolute. "She will know what to do."
They carried the unconscious woman back to the agreed meeting point, where Alcina and Daniela awaited their return. Alcina's gaze narrowed as she took in the sight before her, her maternal instincts tinged with caution.
"Who is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a velvet whisper laced with authority.
"We found her while exploring, Mother," Bela explained, her voice steady despite the weight of uncertainty.
Alcina regarded the stranger with a measured gaze before nodding in agreement. "We shall bring her back to the castle," she decided, her voice commanding yet gentle. With practiced grace, Bela transferred the injured woman into Alcina's arms, their journey back to the castle beginning in silence.
The grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu welcomed the returning huntresses with an air of quiet anticipation. Alcina's wife, Miranda, awaited their arrival, her presence a calming anchor amidst the storm of their nightly endeavors. As the Dimitrescu daughters approached, Miranda greeted them with a warm smile, her gaze flickering with curiosity.
"How was the hunt, my darlings?" Miranda inquired, her voice a soothing melody in the cavernous hall.
Cassandra's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as she recounted their exploits, her words painting a vivid picture of the night's escapades. But Miranda's smile faltered when her eyes fell upon the unconscious woman cradled in Alcina's arms, her brow furrowing in concern.
"What happened?" Miranda asked, her tone laced with worry as she turned to Alcina for answers.
Bela stepped forward, her voice steady as she explained their unexpected encounter in the abandoned base. Miranda listened intently, her expression softening with understanding as she absorbed the tale.
Alcina, ever composed, interjected with a gentle reminder of the woman's injuries. "Miranda, she is in need of your expertise," she stated, her voice a velvet whisper tinged with concern.
Miranda nodded, her resolve firm as she accepted the responsibility thrust upon her. With a graceful motion, Alcina transferred the unconscious woman into Miranda's waiting arms, their gazes locking in silent reassurance before Miranda disappeared down the dimly lit corridors, her burden cradled close to her heart.
Left alone with her daughters, Alcina's focus shifted to the task at hand. "Clean yourselves up," she instructed, her voice firm yet gentle. "Dinner will be served in a few hours."
The Dimitrescu daughters nodded in understanding, their movements fluid as they made their way to their chambers to prepare for the evening ahead. Meanwhile, Alcina dispatched a maid to fetch Miranda's equipment, ensuring that her wife had all she needed to tend to their unexpected guest.
Alone in their shared room, Alcina found Miranda tending to the stranger's wounds with practiced expertise, her hands gentle yet sure as she worked. With a soft smile, Alcina offered her assistance, their bond a silent testament to the strength of their union.
Miranda's skilled hands moved with precision as she tended to the unconscious woman, her focus unwavering despite the weight of uncertainty that hung in the air. Alcina stood by her side, a silent sentinel ready to offer assistance at a moment's notice.
As they worked, their conversation drifted to the mysterious circumstances surrounding the woman's appearance in the abandoned base. They speculated quietly, weaving tales of intrigue and danger, each possibility more fantastical than the last.
With practiced ease, Miranda finished attending to the woman's injuries, her touch gentle as she wrapped them in sterile dressings. She cleaned her equipment methodically, her movements a ballet of efficiency and grace.
A faint stir from the woman interrupted their quiet conversation, and Miranda's hand instinctively reached out to steady her. Alcina's voice, a soothing balm in the darkness, reassured the woman of her safety, her words a promise of protection amidst the unknown.
But the woman, disoriented and confused, attempted to rise from her makeshift bed. Miranda's gentle touch halted her movement, her voice soft yet firm as she urged the woman to rest.
"You're safe now," Alcina assured her, her gaze unwavering as she met the woman's eyes. "You're in good hands."
The young woman's words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "I need to leave," she pleaded, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "They'll hurt me if they find me here."
But her legs buckled beneath her, and she stumbled, leaning heavily against the sturdy wooden doorframe for support. Alcina approached her cautiously, her voice a soothing melody amidst the woman's turmoil.
"You're safe here," Alcina reassured her, her tone gentle yet unwavering. "No one will harm you."
Miranda's keen gaze softened as she observed the young woman's distress, her heart aching with empathy for the pain etched in her features. "You need antibiotics," Miranda explained calmly, her voice a steady anchor in the storm.
At the mention of needles, the woman's eyes widened with fear, her body tensing in anticipation. "No, please, not again," she pleaded, her voice tinged with anguish.
Alcina's brow furrowed in concern as she listened to the woman's words, a sense of foreboding settling over her. "What do you mean, 'again'?" she inquired gently, her voice laced with quiet concern.
"They..." the woman trailed off, her voice choked with emotion. "They always give me shots," she confessed, her words heavy with the weight of trauma.
Miranda guided the woman to the bed, her touch gentle as she offered comfort and reassurance. She sat beside her, her presence a steady anchor in the tumult of emotions swirling around them.
As Alcina administered the injections, Miranda offered words of encouragement, her voice a soothing balm to the woman's frayed nerves. With the first needle's prick, the woman held her breath, her knuckles turning white as she clutched Miranda's hand in a vice-like grip.
"Remember to breathe, sweetheart," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle reminder of their shared humanity.
The second injection followed, and the woman squeezed Miranda's hand tightly, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Miranda praised her bravery, her words a beacon of light in the darkness of her fear.
"You did very well, my dear," Alcina added, her voice warm with pride as she applied bandaids to the tiny puncture wounds.
The young woman's eyelids grew heavy, the effects of the medication beginning to take hold. With a soft sigh, she swayed dizzily, her strength ebbing away as she slipped from the edge of the bed. Alcina's swift reflexes caught her before she could hit the ground, her voice a steady anchor in the swirling sea of confusion.
"Easy now," Alcina murmured, her arms enfolding the woman in a protective embrace. With gentle care, she lifted her and settled her back onto the bed, beside Miranda.
The woman, her name still a mystery, sought solace in Miranda's presence, her heart yearning for the warmth of connection amidst the chill of uncertainty. Miranda welcomed her into her embrace, her touch tender as she brushed a stray lock of hair from the woman's face.
Alcina watched over them, her gaze soft with compassion as she took a seat beside the young woman. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on the woman's shoulder, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.
"You're safe here, sweetheart," Miranda whispered, her voice a gentle caress in the darkness. "Rest now, and let your worries fade away."
Alcina's voice joined Miranda's, their words weaving a tapestry of comfort and solace around the woman. "We'll protect you," she promised, her tone firm yet gentle. "You're not alone."
The young woman's lips parted in a feeble attempt to speak, her voice barely a whisper amidst the quiet of the room. Miranda's gentle touch silenced her, a soft shushing sound soothing her restless mind.
"Rest now, my dear," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle melody in the darkness. "There will be time to talk later, once you're feeling better."
The woman, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion, nodded weakly, her protests silenced by the comforting embrace of sleep. She sank deeper into Miranda's arms, her body yielding to the pull of slumber as the warmth of safety enveloped her.
Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she gazed up at the two older women, a silent question lingering on her lips. Alcina's voice, warm and reassuring, broke the stillness of the room as she introduced herself and Miranda.
"I am Alcina Dimitrescu, and this is my wife, Miranda," Alcina explained, her tone gentle yet proud. "And you, my dear, what is your name?"
Miranda's gaze softened as she awaited the woman's response, her heart brimming with compassion for the stranger in their midst. "We would like to know who you are sweet girl," she added, her voice a gentle invitation to trust.Y/n's voice, soft and hesitant, broke the silence of the room. "My name is Y/n," she murmured, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she met Miranda and Alcina's gazes.
The apology tumbled from Y/n's lips, her voice laced with self-doubt. Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the unexpected apology, prompting Y/n to explain her concern about intruding on their relationship.
Alcina's gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between her and Miranda. "You have nothing to apologize for, my dear," Alcina assured her, her voice warm with reassurance. "You are not an inconvenience."
Miranda echoed Alcina's sentiment, her touch gentle as she urged Y/n to rest. "Sleep now," Miranda whispered, her words a soothing lullaby in the stillness of the room. "We'll talk more later."
With a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, Alcina bid Miranda and Y/n farewell, her footsteps fading into the distance as she left the room. Y/n shifted slightly, pulling away from Miranda's embrace, her eyes clouded with uncertainty.
"Are you alright?" Miranda asked, her voice soft with concern as she observed the turmoil in Y/n's expression.
Y/n's response was hesitant, her words tinged with guilt. "I shouldn't be getting so close to a married woman," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
But Miranda's touch was gentle yet firm as she drew Y/n back into her embrace. "If you need comfort right now, that's what matters," Miranda reassured her, her words a beacon of understanding in the darkness of Y/n's doubts. "You're not doing anything to jeopardize our marriage."
Y/n relaxed into Miranda's arms, her fears melting away in the warmth of their shared embrace. Miranda pulled the duvet over them both, cocooning them in a blanket of safety and comfort as Y/n nestled closer to her.
With a final kiss to Y/n's forehead, Miranda whispered words of comfort as Y/n drifted off to sleep, the weight of the world easing from her shoulders in the embrace of those who dared to care. And in the heart of Castle Dimitrescu, amidst shadows and secrets, a stranger found solace in the arms of those who welcomed her with open hearts.
Amidst the quiet intimacy of their room, Alcina returned from her brief check on the girls, her footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit chamber. She approached Miranda with a questioning gaze, concern etched into the lines of her elegant features.
"How is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a gentle murmur as she regarded Miranda with a mixture of curiosity and worry.
Miranda's gaze softened as she turned to face her wife, a small smile gracing her lips. "She's sleeping now," Miranda replied, her voice soft with reassurance. "She was worried about us being married."
Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the revelation, prompting Miranda to explain Y/n's concerns. "She doesn't understand why she feels that way," Miranda added, her voice tinged with empathy.
A tender silence enveloped them as they pondered the complexities of Y/n's feelings. "I don't mind that she's come into our lives," Miranda confessed, her words a testament to the depth of her compassion.
Alcina's gaze softened with understanding, her hand reaching out to intertwine with Miranda's. "I agree," she murmured, her voice a whispered affirmation of their shared sentiment.
They lingered in quiet companionship for a while longer, their thoughts drifting amidst the gentle ebb and flow of conversation. Two hours passed in the blink of an eye, and soon, the aroma of dinner wafted into the room, heralding the arrival of their meal.
Miranda stirred Y/n gently from her slumber, her touch tender as she guided the sleepy woman to sit up. Y/n instinctively gravitated towards Miranda, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of the older woman.
Alcina's voice broke the silence, her tone warm with affection as she informed Y/n of their dinner. With her help, Y/n sat up and began to eat, the simple act of nourishment a testament to the newfound bond forged between them.
But as Y/n pushed the food around on her plate, Alcina gently urged her to eat, her voice filled with concern. "You should try to eat something, my dear. It will help settle your stomach," she suggested, her eyes flickering with worry.
Y/n hesitated, her appetite diminished by memories too painful to share. "I'm not hungry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Miranda exchanged a concerned glance with Alcina, her brow furrowing in worry. "Is there a specific reason why you don't want to eat?" she inquired gently, her voice filled with empathy.
Y/n's gaze flickered with hesitation, her mind torn between the desire to confide in them and the fear of burdening them with her past. But finally, she found the courage to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.
"When I was given meals at the base... they were usually poisoned," she admitted, her words heavy with the weight of truth. "They wanted to see which poisons I was immune to."
Shock and anger rippled across Alcina and Miranda's faces at Y/n's revelation, their hearts heavy with the weight of her suffering. "We would never do such a thing," Alcina vowed, her voice laced with righteous indignation. "We want you to be safe here."
Miranda's hand reached out to gently touch Y/n's, her touch a silent reassurance of their commitment to her well-being. "We want to help you," she murmured, her voice soft yet determined. "Please, try to eat something small. It will help with the antibiotics."
With a shared understanding passing between them, Y/n nodded slowly, her trust in Alcina and Miranda growing with each passing moment.
As the weeks passed, Y/n found herself gradually integrating into the life of Castle Dimitrescu. She formed bonds with Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, the Dimitrescu daughters taking a liking to her gentle nature and welcoming her into their fold. But it was with Alcina and Miranda that Y/n grew closest, finding solace and security in their presence.
Despite the warmth of their companionship, Y/n continued to sleep on the floor each night, a silent testament to the lingering trauma that haunted her dreams. The softness of the bed and the comfort of the room were foreign to her, a stark contrast to the harsh realities she had endured before being rescued by Alcina and her daughters.
To Y/n, the comforts of the bed were reserved for those who had earned them, not for someone like her. So she sought refuge on the familiar embrace of the floor, finding solace in the hum of the heating and the warmth of a simple rug beneath her.
It was only when Miranda and Alcina gently encouraged her to embrace the comfort of the bed that Y/n began to realize the true extent of her fear of sleep. The gentle weight of the comforter, the warmth of the mattress, and the softness of the pillows were foreign sensations, overwhelming in their unfamiliarity.
But with their reassurance, Y/n tentatively allowed herself to sink into the embrace of the bed, the promise of safety and comfort beckoning her into the realm of sleep. Yet, as the night wore on, the darkness of her dreams crept in, suffocating her with its tendrils of fear and despair.
The first night in the shared bed was plagued by bone-deep screams, the echoes of her nightmares reverberating through the quiet of the room. Alcina and Miranda at her side in a n instant, their gentle words a soothing balm to her troubled soul as they guided her back to the shores of wakefulness.
But even as they slipped back into unconsciousness, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, tearing through the fragile veil of sleep with relentless ferocity. Hour after hour, Y/n fought against the darkness, her throat raw from screams and her body drenched in sweat.
Yet, through it all, Alcina and Miranda remained steadfast at her side, their unwavering presence a beacon of light in the darkness of her nightmares. And as the night faded into dawn, Y/n clung to their comfort, the promise of a new day offering a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of her past.
The echoes of Y/n's screams filled the room, jolting both Alcina and Miranda from their sleep. Right away, they were at her side, their comforting presence a shield against the encroaching darkness of her nightmares.
Miranda gently cradled Y/n in her arms, feeling the tremors that coursed through her body. "Draga mea, shh, you're safe," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody in the night.
Alcina's hand rested on Y/n's shoulder, her touch firm yet gentle. "Îngeraș, we're here for you," she reassured, her voice a comforting murmur.
Y/n, caught in the throes of her nightmares, clung to Miranda, her tears soaking into the fabric of her nightshirt. Between sobs, she tried to articulate the horrors that plagued her dreams, but her words were disjointed and unintelligible.
Miranda pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, her voice a calming presence amidst the storm. "Shh, my dear, it's okay. We're here with you," she murmured, her fingers gently stroking Y/n's hair.
Alcina leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/n's temple. "Take your time, îngeraș. We're not going anywhere," she said, her voice a steady reassurance.
The trio remained intertwined in the bed, a tableau of comfort and solace in the face of Y/n's turmoil. Alcina and Miranda worked in tandem to calm her racing heart and ease the tension that gripped her.
As Y/n continued to cry into Miranda's neck, Alcina whispered soothing words in Romanian, the melodic cadence a balm to Y/n's restless soul. "Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță," she murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby.
Miranda continued her soft reassurances, offering a comforting refuge for Y/n to lean into. "It's alright, my dear. We're here to help you through this," she whispered, her words a promise of unwavering support.
After some time, as Y/n's sobs began to subside, Alcina and Miranda exchanged a knowing glance. "Let's talk about it in the morning," Alcina suggested, her tone filled with understanding.
Miranda nodded in agreement, gently wiping away Y/n's tears. "Sleep, Draga mea. We'll face this together when the sun rises," she murmured, her words a gentle promise of a new day, free from the shadows of the night.