#Sal Moreau | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

words-etched-in-her-skin · 4 months

Text

Ahem.. Christmas smut with a hot shark lady, anyone? 👀 Wrote this as a Christmas gift for my dearest @demonofpuns ❤️Pirate Captain Sal AU with about 3.5k words of almost pure smut 😂I do hope some of you will enjoy! 😌 ***

Your heart was beating harder than it ever had. So hard you could feel it in your throat - thumping there loudly. Beating with anticipation, with excitement. The pink flush across your cheeks growing even deeper as you tied the final knot around Sal’s wrist and leaned back to look at her.

Merry Christmas to me.

She was gorgeous. Stunning. A nautical masterpiece literally at your mercy.

Well, sort of. You knew she could easily break her restraints if she really wanted to. But she had requested this as her gift - asked it of you - given you her trust as a Captain and you her first mate. And you weren't going to let her down.

Not that you had any desire to anyways. While, yes, you were predominantly a bottom - a brat, as it was - the chance to have Sal in such a position, under you, was one you couldn't imagine ever saying no to. Especially with how hard she already was. With how absolutely divine she looked. Her arms bound carefully above her head with the chiseled landscape of her laid out before you.

Why, it was enough to make you wet. And it did. Already soaked straight through your panties that you still wore when you sauntered back over to stand in front of her, teasingly.

“Aye.. enjoyin’ tha view?”

You smirked. “Mhm.. very much.”

Sal chuckled, the muscles in her abdomen flexing ever so slightly as she did.

Gods, she was so fucking hot. And the soft black rope you'd used to restrain her wrists looked absolutely stunning against the grayscape of her skin. Skin that was speckled beautifully with a pink hue that was only growing deeper by the second.

“You're fucking gorgeous, Sal.”

Her cheeks warmed brilliantly at the abrupt compliment - face encased softly in a curtain of inky black hair.

“Oi, hush.”

“Hm.. no, I don't think I will. And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it, is there?” You teased, leaning down.

Sal only shook her head, chuckling.

“That's right. So, be a good girl.. Captain.. and take it.”

Your smirk only growing wider at the look she gave you. Shark-li teeth pressing into the top part of her bottom lip and a subtle twitch to her cock.

Fuck, it was beautiful - the effect being praised had on her. There were few things in life hotter than a rough and tumble Pirate Captain who melted at being called ‘good’. And then when you added Sal herself into that mix.. well, the effects were.. intoxicating.. to say the least.

“Yer not playin’ fair, luv.”

‘I don't recall ever saying I would.”

“Cud make yer swab tha deck fer this, yer know?”

You shrugged, smirking. “Worth it.”

You moved a little closer and her cock twitched again, betraying the level of her neediness. The flush that started at her pointed ears and made its way deliciously down the length of her - painting her body in a deep crimson - grew a little darker. Still, you kept your panties intact as you straddled her hips.

Not yet, Captain.

Though you couldn't help the tiny whimper that fell when your clit pressed down firmly against her womanhood through the thin, soaked fabric. And then again when you ground down onto it. Fuck, she was hard.. so, so hard-

You took a deep breath to regain your focus.

You had a plan. Worship first. Make her as needy as absolutely possible while indulging every inch of her. Worship her like the sea goddess that she was. Then you could indulge her.

So, needless to say, you paid her no mind when she whimpered in turn wanting more, her cock already pulsing with need beneath you. Instead you leaned in, lowering the top part of your body slowly onto hers before allowing the weight of you to add even more pressure between the space that you straddled.

“Luv..”

“Shhhh..”

You placed your lips against the pulse point on Sal’s neck and felt her swallow. Your tongue sucking over it only for a moment before a kiss quickly took its place. Soon those kisses were peppering their way down the side of it only to stop just short of her collar bone. Every inch of her was toned - taut - ready for you. Even more so when she pulled on her restraints in want, forcing a creak from the old wooden headboard they were bound to.

Another swirl of your tongue at the crook of her neck before your lips continued their journey down the landscape of her. Stopping every so often to bite or nibble - lick or suck. Loving the small sounds that every small act pulled from her - especially when the warmth of your mouth found her nipple and quickly enveloped it. A smooth roll of your hips added in and she was moaning almost breathlessly in your ear.

“L-luv-”

“Let me take care of you, Sal.”

Your words were murmured - muffled - pushing air across her already erect nipples and making them even harder.

But you didn't stop there. Sucking over them eagerly as you rolled your hips again - this time forcing a hard pull against the soft black rope. Her cock throbbing hard against your clit, begging for release and coating your panties in her own desire. Gods, it was delicious. How needy you had her, how gorgeous she looked dressed in nothing but her want for you. It was intoxicating - like a drug, a supreme high - charging your body with an almost raw current.

Another roll of your hips.. your teeth grazing over her nipples before bringing your lips to her sternum and continuing your journey. Her toned abs twitching under your soft kisses, under your warm tongue that occasionally sucked over them.

“You're fucking divine, Sal. You know that?”

Your gaze looked up at her just in time to catch her blush grow even deeper.

“H-hush.”

“Make me.”

You smirked before kissing around her happy trail, rolling your hips once again.

And that's when you heard it. Cutting through the quiet winter night like a strike of lightning. Like a storm across the sea. A satisfying rip as Sal broke free from her restraints - a look of utterly feral need blazing within her eyes.

Fuck. You were done for.

Before you could even make any sort of move, make any sort of objection, Sal had you on all fours - fingers coming to the hem of your panties just prior to swiftly tearing them from your body.

For a moment, though, everything stopped - complete silence from the Pirate Captain until a boisterous laugh spilled out from her. You’d almost completely forgotten about the new toy you’d adorned yourself with earlier and shook your ass teasingly, allowing the small fish tail on the end of your buttplug to waggle.

“Heh.. an’ here I though’ I'd nevah find meself a mermaid.”

“A ‘merperson’, you mean.” You corrected her, tongue sticking out slightly.

She nodded. “Even bettah.”

Sal gave you a single, firm smack against your ass and then lined the tip of her womanhood up against your entrance. One hand between your shoulder blades, holding your body down with your hands - while the other guided the width of her into you. Both of you practically dripping as she slowly began to slide herself into your core, the immediate stretch making you moan.

“Heh.. now who's needy?”

Sal chuckled - maybe at the table’s being turned, or the fish tail that still sat perfectly in your ass - either way, it only lasted for a breath before she thrusted herself back into you, forcing the toy in your ass just far enough in to make it feel good.

“F-fuck.”

She'd only just started and you could already feel your need dripping down your inner thighs, worked up from just the simple act of worshiping her. And how could you not be? Truly? You knew the view Sal had just given you was not one that many had gotten to experience - if any - and it was more than a treat to have her trust in such a way. A fact itself would usually have you practically dripping. Let alone this. Let alone having had her perfect body beneath you for as long as you did - knowing that she trusted you to take care of it. Take care of her. Like no one else ever had.

You remembered how she hesitated when she came to visit you last week in the kitchens. A slight flush to her cheeks as she played idly with the hem of her shirt. You'd never seen that of her prior - being so vulnerable, yet so open about what she wanted. She’d barely had the chance to finish asking you before you'd let out an exuberant “Fuckin’ right I can-!” Her chuckle in response and the way she nervously rubbed the back of her neck - as if there was even a slight chance that you'd say no - had warmed your heart in a way that you had never expected.

It was beautiful. This - her - was beautiful. So incredibly stunning.

But now she had exactly where she wanted you. With your face pressed down into her mattress and your mind filled with bliss. Your core clenching around the width of her as she teased you - denied you.

“Aye.. now yer gonna stay an’ warm tha’ fer me. Fer as long as I want yer to.”

Her breath was hot against your ear as you whimpered.

“Mmph- .. yes, Captain.”

Another smack to your backside and all you could do was moan, the act causing both her cock and the toy inside your ass to move oh so pleasurably inside you. Making you want more.. forcing you to squirm against the iron grip that she had you in.

“I sed stay.” She growled. This time there was venom to the Captain’s words. You'd had your turn at riling her up, and now it was hers. And just like you had said to her, you were going to stay there - and take it.

You whimpered pathetically in response - legs trembling, core aching, the width of her throbbing deep inside you. You knew she wanted you just as badly - that the famed pirate wouldn’t be able to hold out forever - but for now Sal’s reserve continued to outwin her need. Even when you did your best to force your hips back into her - an act that you were certain would likely be in vain - but with your level of need and the brattiness that dusted it, your brain was fogged over to the point where you no longer cared.

“Please, Sal! Please.” You whined, you begged. Tears building at the corners of your eyes and your body coated in a deep flush.

A single thrust, that's all you got. Just enough to pool more juices to your core and make you cry out.

“Fuck-” You whined, your legs trembling even harder. “Fucking please.”

Honestly, you were a little impressed at how well she was still able to hold back. You could feel how hard she was by this point. How profoundly her cock throbbed inside you. Her once steady breaths growing more hitched by the second. Another single thrust only this time she moaned, body shuddering above you as she slammed the full length of herself into your core.

A silent cry into the night followed by an easy exhale as you felt her hold on you finally loosen, your arms dropping to your sides once both of Sal’s hands came to your hips - her stance shifting slightly behind you.

And just like that, the Pirate Captain’s reserve faltered. The only sounds to be heard next were the delicious sounds of flesh against flesh. Of heated desire against firm skin as your juices coated Sal’s lower abs with each eager thrust.

“Mmph.. y-yes.. don't stop. Please don't stop.”

She growled - feral, unhinged. The pace in which she fucked you now relentless, stretching your core with every exquisite pump. Your fingers clawing into her bed sheets as you elongated your hips back even further, giving her unhindered access to your dripping hole - wanting it to be used as nothing more. To be absolutely filled with her desire until it was trickling down both of your legs.

And you knew Sal would make good on that want. She always had. She'd never left you anything but completely satisfied and this time would be no different.

Though you could tell she wouldn't last too much longer, every pump bringing a heavy twitch to her cock and pulling the most erotic sounds from her body. Moans and breathless whimpers. Her nails sinking into the supple flesh of your thighs as she drove herself into you over and over again. Your own pleasure building uncontrolled like a white fire - prickling and hot and on the verge of completely engulfing you.

Until it did. Until there was nothing left but the juices that spilled from your core and Sal’s own desire pumping into you. Your voices a mere chorus of screams as the pirate pushed you both past the brink of absolute pleasure - bodies shuddering as you fell breathless to the now soaked mattress below you.

The moments between your last orgasm and the feeling of emptiness as Sal finally slid out of you were barely more than a blur. Completely blissed out as she removed the toy from your ass and laid you on your side so she could spoon you from behind. Strong, safe arms coming to wrap around your torso as she pulled you close against herself.

“Fucking.. hells, Sal.”

She chuckled, a breath of warm air blowing through your sweat-dampened hair.

“Aye.. yer okay? Need water?”

“Mmh.. in a minute. For now.. I just need this.”

Your breath slowly came back to normal as you cuddled into her, making her chuckle again.

“Heh.. a’ight.”

The familiar scent of sea spray and cinnamon encased you as a soft kiss came to the back of your neck, making you shiver. Sal's firm body behind you, holding you in a way that made you feel completely safe from everything. From all the bad things the world had to offer. From all the hateful stares of the people that never understood you. She was your beacon, your lighthouse in the storm. Always calling you home.

“... Sal?”

“Mh?”

“You know I love you, right?”

Her brief pause made you more than certain Sal's cheeks were likely warming once again.

“Aye… luv yer too.” She replied, pulling you a little closer into her large frame. But before she could settle in too comfortably, you turned in her arms so you could face her. Your arms wrapping securely around the width of her rib cage.

“Good.” You smirked, kissing the bottom of her chin. “Just like you.”

“Oi.. hush. Hadn't had enuf?”

“Of you? Is there such a thing?”

Sal only chuckled but you could see the pink hue readily returning to her cheeks. You nuzzled your head under her chin and pulled her flush against you. The beat of her heart as strong and steady as she was. The heat of her body as calm and warm as she made you feel. She sighed contently and wrapped her arms even more firmly around you. You were so close - but yet, not close enough. Your outer leg coming to wrap around her hips and her thigh moving to lay between them.

“Cud stay like thi’ forever.” Sal whispered.

“Mmh.. say less.” You replied, smiling widely as you kissed her collar bone.

“Heh.”

She placed a kiss to the top of your head and you snuggled in even more, leaving not a breath of space between the two of you. The next soft kiss to her collar bone pulled the smallest of noises from Sal’s throat, immediately bringing a pulse to your core. You moved your hips slightly against her, an act that only pushed her thigh further into you, making your breath hitch ever so slightly.

It was crazy how easily she could affect you. How just being in such close proximity made you needy all over again. And you knew she was likely tired.. But.. still… It was worth a shot.

You placed another kiss to the base of her neck and sucked at the skin of it gently - just enough to cause a slight jerk to her body and a sharp inhale across the top of your hair. The next kiss brought out the tiniest moan. And the next, a firmness between her legs that you were all too familiar with.

“Sal.” You said softly, causing her to lean back and look at you. Eyes shimmered in want and all the ways that she adored you.

You didn't have to say anything else as Sal took your queue and laid you onto your back without releasing you from her embrace. A soft smirk curling at the corners of her lips before they came crashing into yours, kissing you deeply - profoundly. Soft and gentle and such a stark contrast to her energy before.

Both sets of eyes half lidded as you kept your gaze on each other, completely lost in the moment. Tongues dancing in a minuet - warm and languid and steadily building the desire between you. Re-stoking the fire that had never fully died out. Bodies nude and wrapped in nothing but each other as she spread your legs, your arousal immediately evident.

The way she kissed you, as if you were her last breath, as if she pulled away for even a moment she would perish - right then and there.

There were no words to be spoken between you, no thoughts to be had. Just the sound of your bodies and hearts moving as one as Sal slid herself back into you, cock hard and already throbbing. You moaned into her lips, whimpering when she nibbled softly on your bottom one. The length of her sliding indulgently in and out of you, hitting exactly where you needed it with each deep grind that she gifted you.

It was perfect. Fuck, she was perfect. Hard when you wanted it, soft when it counted. Giving your body, heart, and soul exactly what you needed each and every time.

You began to move your hips in tangent, legs wrapped around her, lazily draped over Sal’s backside. Each pump more delicious than the last, each thrust more exquisite - building your peak with nothing but slow, absolute precision. Equally soft caresses indulging every inch of you, her strong hands never seeming to leave your body - claiming your flesh as her lips claimed your own. The world around you almost non-existent as the two of you moved as one - Sal's firm muscles flexing with each subtle movement. With every stretch to your core.

You felt as if you were on the edge of orgasm from the minute she entered you, and if it weren't for the extremely slow pace in which she took you, you likely would have came already. But Sal knew exactly what she was doing, building you up closer and closer, inch by inch. Her adoring praises practically imprinted into your lips by the time you felt her cock start to twitch inside you yet again.

“Come with me, Sal.”

Less of an order than a plea, but she only nodded - kissing you even deeper. Claiming you fully while her hips picked up their pace. Every muscle in her body taut, tense - the length of her driving into you at full speed.

“Mmph- .. y-yes .. so good.”

Whimpered words falling off your tongue like a prayer - only for a moment before your orgasm quickly took you. Rolling over your body like tepid water and washing you in bliss. Sal's own desire filling you once again as her body shuddered, your juices re-soaking the bed sheets below you until she fell absolutely breathless on top of you.

And even though you were completely and utterly wrecked, you still whined when she finally slid out of you, your core entirely too empty as aftershocks forced it to clench around nothing. She chuckled between shuddered breaths as she came to lie next to you once again.

Only this time her eyes were closed, a look of serene calm playing across her features. The ebb and flow of her breath a constant current like the waves that carried your ship. You smiled softly to yourself and rolled over fully on your side to face her.

“You're beautiful, you know that?”

“Oi.. hush.”

A sliver of glow shot in your direction as Sal just barely opened her eyes to look at you, the warmth within them bringing an instant flush to your cheeks.

“Hmm.. no.”

She chuckled at your response and shook her head, strong arms reaching out before they pulled you close against her chest.

“An’ here I though’ I tired yer out.”

She pulled you closer still and you snuggled in.

“Bold of you to assume I'd ever be too spent to praise you, Sal.”

“Heh.”

You let your smirk linger on your lips as you pressed them gently to the side of her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Captain.”

You let a single content and quickly snuggled back into her. The steady melody of Sal’s breath slowly lulling you off as the soft rock of the ocean pulled the both of you into a deep, blissful sleep.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

#resident evil village #theo writes #demononpuns #genderbent sal #genderbent sal x nb!reader #pirate au #christmas smut #one hole-ly night #ummm #this was hot to write #not gonna lie #one of the few times i actually got turned on while writing #ahem #re8 fics #re8 fanfiction #sally moreau #classyfruit oc

20 notes · View notes

draugrfiend · 2 years

Photo

baby girl you are so wretched

#my art.#resident evil village #re8 #salvatore moreau #im playing through the game again and i dont know how to tell ppl who follow me for pretty boys that #sal is literally top tier cain loving character design

240 notes · View notes

renzzy · 25 days

Text

#hi guys #sal hcs here.. how we feelin #no i didnt draw karl i dont like drawing him #yes the first two pics aresal i love him hes my pookie #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #uri reiss #im cooked #im also cooking.

13 notes · View notes

professionallydeadinside · 2 years

Note

So, doctor Salvatore had a few scandals? Please do tell me what they are.

*Billie Jean plays in the back*

#a few husbands have also probably accused sal of seducing their wives XD #salvatore moreau #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #my art #fanart #answered #doodles

54 notes · View notes

lawrence-whoredon · 1 year

Text

The lords butt heads some times but there's one thing they can all agree on

Pink Floyd is fucking awesome

#totally not projecting or anything #i think im using that word correctly #i do legitmately think heisenberg would like it #alcina? only a little. just a few songs.#sal loves the wall #because of songs like mother #and other songs that talk about pinks overprotective mom #idk about donna im still thinking about her gimme a sec #yeah thatll be another post #resident evil #resident evil 8 #re8 #donna beneviento #alcina dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau

12 notes · View notes

highlifeboat · 1 year

Note

Alcina: *Posts her selfie with Lesbian flag*

Salvator: Oooh, nice! I'm spaniard. *Posts his selfie with flag of Spain*

Alcina: Salvator, this is not what this post about.

Karl: *Posts his selfie with German flag*

Alcina: God dammit, Heisenberg! Get the hell away from my post!

Kris: *Posts his selfie with American flag*

Alcina: Ghnghah! How can this get any worse?

Miranda: *Posts her selfie with super-straight's flag*

Alcina: I hate this family.

Miranda understood the assignment and still put the wrong answer.

All we need is Mia posting her selfie with the flag of Texas specifically.

Alcina: Mia!

Mia: What?? Chris already did the American flag!

#also i though sal was french or at least that was the common theory #because moreau is a french last name #also also of COURSE miranda would use the SS flag #and then gets bombarded with people mocking it for being the pornhub colours #asks #anons

7 notes · View notes

irregularbillcipher · 9 months

Text

was going through old files and found the start of a resident evil village fic... idk if i'll ever finish it, so here's the start for posterity. maybe i'll finish it someday if there's any interest warnings for descriptions of animal harm, gore and surgery, along with some emotional abuse also also, if anyone here speaks french and would be willing to tell me if the tiny bit of french in here sounds correct, i'd appreciate it! i went through a few channels that were more advanced than google translate, but i don't speak the language myself and didn't really have any way to verify

Salvatore Moreau was a very good doctor. At the very least, his mother had always said so.

To be fair, she wasn’t the only one who said so, but she was always the one who was the most adamant about it, even before he could speak.

Stories fed to him when he could barely hold his head up of his grandfather, his namesake, who had left Italy for France to study under the Louis Pasteur— or at his university, at least— and Salvatore had learned by age two and a half that he should always pretend that he understood why that was a big deal.

By age four, he really did understand why that was such a big deal, and by age five, after lengthy stories from his mother of his grandfather’s most gruesome surgical endeavors and hints that his namesake had been prepping since he was half Salvatore’s age, he had started performing medical experiments of his own, shaking, pudgy hands rifling through his father’s tackle box, taking out the worms and insects, using a hook to open them up and see how they ticked.

His father never liked it, seeing the boy tear his bait apart on the docks of the reservoir, but his mother was thrilled, and tutted away his father’s concerns.

“It’s a surgeons instinct,” she would coo, pressing a kiss against the boy’s cheek and placing a needle and thread in tiny hands, so he could stitch everything back together. “I just want him to have a head start. He’ll need hands-on experience before he goes to Paris!”

“Of course,” his father would say, never one for arguments, “but couldn’t we stick to creatures that are already dead?”

“He’ll have plenty of time to work on cadavers in school,” she would retort, and sometimes the discussion would become a bit more tense, a back and forth babble of French and Italian that Salvatore could make out if he focused, but rarely bothered to focus on. The Italian always won, anyway.

“Just…” he would finally hear in tired French, “nothing that feels. Nothing more than bait… Nothing with fur, or a real brain…”

And Salvatore was happy to agree with that— bigger things would squirm or scream, and he didn’t like to feel like he was hurting anything. He was practicing being a doctor, he wasn’t trying to cause harm.

But by age seven, his mother started handing her little surgeon field mice and toads from the lake, speaking breathlessly about how his grandfather had once amputated a leg in five minutes flat, and he knew she wanted him to try to do it in four.

A mouse’s leg was so much thinner, after all.

She was ecstatic when one of his tiny patients finally survived the night, and had gleefully told him that his father wouldn’t have to know they were expanding their medical practice.

“He’s a sweet man, your father, a good man,” she would say, with genuine fondness, patting her son’s cheek, “just…not ambitious. We both want you to be the best you can be, tesoro, we just don’t agree on how to get you there…”

And Salvatore wasn’t sure how he felt about her dismissing his father— he seemed happy with his life, after all— but it was hard to act as if he was living up to his potential.

He was sure, after all, that when his father had told his mother he had a Lordship waiting for him if his family ever returned to Romania, she was not expecting the man to remain a fisherman after he had accepted it. A Lord usually made more of himself.

When he asked his father though, on one of the quiet, early morning boat trips he took his boy on so often, the man had simply laughed quietly.

“A Lordship is just a title, Salvatore,” he’d said, wrapping another blanket around the boy’s shoulders— Salvatore always forgot how chilly the morning mist on the boat was, and his father always kept spare wool blankets by the tacklebox, so the boy wouldn’t have to remember. “I’m sure some old Moreau was great some hundred-odd years ago, or at least found a way to make some money somehow, but it doesn’t mean much nowadays. A bit of land, a crest…”

“A boat,” the boy had giggled, kicking the bottom of the old thing, and his father had laughed.

“No, no, the boat I built.”

Salvatore had squirmed a little, confused, hands gripping his fishing rod. “We… we owned a reservoir, but not a boat?”

And the man had chuckled again. “Your brains come from your mother’s side of the family, mon chou. Not the Moreau side, even if someone long ago managed to be great on a reservoir without a boat.”

“Well. You were smart enough to build a boat.”

The man had hummed softly and nodded in humble agreement, standing up to cast his line out again.

“… So if we’re Lords here,” the boy continued, gnawing on dirty fingernails, “why did you ever live in France?”

“Well, we have family there, of course,” his father had said, chewing on his cigarette, eyes glued to the lake, “but it was mostly the weather.”

“… Your family gave up being Lords because of the weather?”

“We’re cold-blooded creatures, us Moreaus,” his father had whispered conspiratorially, piling another blanket on the shivering boy and sticking out his tongue when he snorted. “We do better where it’s temperate.”

“But it’s still cold here. It’d be nicer in France. Or Italy.”

“Hm, it is, but your mother’s enough of a firecracker to keep anyone warm,” the man had said, half exhausted and half lovestruck, and Salvatore really couldn’t argue with that. “And besides. She liked the idea of being a Lady… found it romantic, you know.”

The boy had nodded again, kicking his legs and reeling in experimentally, just to see if he could catch any fish’s attention. It didn’t work.

“But there’s no expectation for you,” his father had said, tugging on his own line. “There’s no, ah… role you have to play, because of my family.”

“Mama says being a doctor would be be-befitting of a Lord.”

“And it would be if that’s what you’d like,” he’d said, patting his son’s shoulder. His jaw had set, just a little, and Salvatore regretting bringing it up. “We both want you to be happy, Salvatore, we just—”

“Don’t agree on how to get me there,” he’d finished quietly.

“No, we don’t,” the man was reeling his line in now, having felt a tug. “But nobody does, really, for anybody. Ready with the net now.”

The boy had nearly dropped his own pole in the water in the rush to get the net for what ended up being a much smaller than average fish, but his father never chided him for that sort of thing.

Despite his mother’s aspirations, stories of how his parents met never included the Lordship.

“We met at the market,” his mother would say dreamily, whenever her son asked. “He tried to sell me a tiny trout for three francs…”

“And?” Salvatore would always prompt giddily, despite knowing how the story went.

“And I told him that for that price, I’d better get it fully cooked with wine and dessert… and he was happy to do it.”

“The dinner,” his father would always add from his armchair, “was more than three francs—”

“And the trout was very good,” she would concede, kissing him on the cheek and patting his arm as he blushed furiously.

“Was it worth it?” Salvatore would ask his father, as if he didn’t already know the answer, as if he weren’t essentially reciting a script, and he was never surprised when mother would reply instead.

“Was a wife worth three francs?”

“I think I could have spent less on the dinner if I’d thought it through more,” his father would always say, smiling the whole time. “But the date was well worth the seven francs I spent.”

There were many stories like that, back and forth skits of things his mother had already told him— everything from his grandfather’s most harrowing surgical endeavors to the hectic day that he was born— but the day his parents met was always his favorite. It was the one they seemed the happiest to tell, the one they always remembered new details of.

His mother would always tell him later, while tucking him in, that she would have insisted on dinner with his father even if he’d charged a single centime for the trout, because her demand for dinner and wine hadn’t really had anything to do with the trout itself, and his father would always tell him the next morning on the boat that he’d deliberately overcharged for the trout just to have an excuse to haggle with a pretty girl, which had worked out far better than he ever could have imagined.

“So, it was love at first sight?” he would ask them both, without fail.

“Of course it was, tesoro,” his mother would sigh, brushing his hair out of his eyes and taking off his glasses, setting them on his bedside table. “Why else would I have made him take me to dinner?”

His father would always be asked the next morning, back on the boat, and he would breathe air out of his nose and smile softly, shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t call it that, Salvatore… love takes time, work, you know? It’s a… process,” he would say, baiting his hook. “But I knew I wanted to know her better.”

Salvatore decided from an early age that he liked his mother’s answer best, but he never said so, at least not to his father on those frigid, foggy mornings.

“He changes the story, doesn’t he?” his mother would ask, needle and thread and a rabbit bundled into her arms, and he would relay the conversations on the lake, to drown out the rabbit’s screams. To stop his hands from shaking.

“No,” he would say, hoping to avoid the inevitable. This was another script, but one he liked much less, and it was hard to recite his lines when his hands were slick with viscera.

“He doesn’t say it was love at first sight,” she would sigh, looking intently at her son’s handiwork.

“He says love takes time,” he would say, wrist deep in gore, “and work.”

“So it takes work to love me, does it?” and the teasing note in her voice would never be enough to stop his queasiness from building.

“No,” he’d say over the rabbit’s screeches, or mouse’s, or the toad’s, “of course not.” And his voice would quaver even though he’d mean it.

She never noticed the hesitancy, and he was glad, because the minute his patient was stitched up, that nervous note in his voice would wash over him in a wave of shame. He’d shake and snivel after every procedure, and he was convinced it had to be because of that hesitancy over the woman convincing him to tear apart the local fauna, and not the act of tearing them apart. He refused to entertain the idea it could be a little of both.

Her son’s trembling was something she could not ignore, and she’d take his hands, still dripping from surgery, still pudgy with baby fat, and smile softly. “A surgeon’s hands,” she’d sigh, squeezing. “You’ve done such a good job, Salvatore, you have a surgeon’s hands.”

It was almost enough to make him feel better.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up before your father sees.”

That was what really made him feel better, at the end of the day, wiping off the gore. He tried not to think about it too much. There wasn’t much use for a squeamish surgeon.

Even as he got older, as his hands started to shake less, as he learned how to quiet the animals’ screams and as he developed an appreciation—or at least a fascination—with the work his mother was pushing him towards, he was still relieved every time he got to clean his hands and be done with it.

He was ten when his father found him, halfway between the makeshift surgical center and the lake, rushing to dip sopping red hands in murky water. His father had looked at him, hunched over and bloody and crying, and his face had gone gray, and he’d docked the boat and headed up to their house without a word.

The din in the house started almost immediately and for once, the French overpowered the Italian.

He tried not to listen, as he scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and tried to drown out the noise, washing until his hands were sore to try to feel clean, to avoid going into the house.

The yelling carried, though, no matter how loudly he splashed, no matter how much he muttered to himself. The only sound he could hear was his father, angry like he’d never heard before, so angry Salvatore was sure he was sobbing, refusing to back down for once.

Vous pensez que c’est ce qui est le mieux pour lui? Vous pensez que c’est ce qui le rendra heureux? Il est trempé de sang, il tremble! Mon Dieu, il n'a que dix ans!

Dear God, he’s only ten!

When he pulled his hands from the lake, they were still bloody, and it took a good few seconds to realize that this time, it was his own blood. From the state of his hands, raw and cracked and trembling—God, he wished he could stop the trembling-- scrubbing any more would only make things worse, so he just sat on the dock miserably, holding his fingers above the water and waiting for them to dry.

#this fic is just the emotional equivalent of kicking salvatore moreau in the stomach repeatedly #it was going to be about this theory i have that sal was the village doctor when the spanish flu hit so miranda like.#blames him for eva's death. which is why he's treated so badly even compared to his already mistreated siblings #while also being sort of a study about his relationship with his biological family and how an unhealthy dynamic there #sort of led him into the unhealthy relationship he has with miranda and the lords #but i never quite got the motivation to finish it #idk if anyone here even likes resident evil but this has been sitting in my files for so long #and i want it out in the world in some way i suppose #there are a few other scattered scenes i've written but. whatever #anyway sal is the most potentially interesting lord imo it's a shame his siblings took all the fandom's attention #not that i don't LIKE his siblings. i do!!!#i just think it stinks that moreau is so overlooked

3 notes · View notes

alexander-23 · 1 year

Text

The mom friend - Donna

The Dad friend - Sal

The Sister friend - Alcina

The Brother friend - Karl

The Grandma friend - Y/N

The Cousin friend - Mother Miranda

Tell me I’m wrong!

#reader insert #resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil #re8 #re8 village #res evil #lady alcina dimitrescu #re 8 #lord Alcina Dimitrescu #re mother miranda #mother miranda #lord dimitrescu #lord beneviento #lord heisenberg #lord moreau #donna beneviento #Sal Moreau #karl heisenberg

61 notes · View notes

artzoey · 2 years

Text

Long time no see ppl, made a quick sketch of Sal this evening, you know.. the genderbent version of Moreau originally from @classyfruit

#digital art #digital drawing #sal moreau #genderbent moreau #genderbent #resident evil village #re8 #doodle

6 notes · View notes

dekujinsart · 2 years

Photo

I want to join in the MerMay fun but I highly doubt I will get this MerMoreau of sorts along with my OC art done in time. I’ll keep working hard at it this week and try.

#I want to do more nice Sal pieces after this.#I think I'm getting him better figured out rendering wise.#Plus I just want more of him being loved and smooch though I do need to draw him being evil as well.#Salvatore Moreau #Resident Evil #Resident Evil Village #Mer!Moreau #Tyne Eder

30 notes · View notes

leorawright · 1 year

Note

Please please please consider the four Lords from RE8 with a S/O who loves to sit on their lap and wrap their arms around their neck (they may or may not sneak a smooch or two when they are in such position <3)

Resident evil!

Lords with s/o who likes to sit on their lap

Alcina Dimitrescu

You'd probably need to warn her before sitting down

But she'd happily let you sit on her lap anytime

Especially during family meetings because she'll just hold you while she's arguing with Heisenberg, and you can be her restraint

But she does enjoy the cuddles and the attention

Donna Beneviento

She's a little flustered about it, and please don't do it at a family meeting or in public she'd die of embarrassment

But at her mansion she'd happily let you sit on her lap

She often leans her head on your shoulder and accepts any and all affection you give her

Be warned, Angie will try to crawl onto your lap as well because she wants affection, too

Salvatore Moreau

He might die of embarrassment wether you two are in public or private

It'll take some trust for him to let you sit on his lap, but after a couple of months of being together Sal will be comfortable enough

It'll definitely be when you two are watching movies together

If you kiss him while sitting on his lap his face os burning with a blush but he'd never stop you from giving him kisses

Karl Heisenberg

Sitting on his lap is the best way to distract him from working

If you're feeling lonely and want some love just sit on his lap

He might get all smug about it, but he'll pepper your face with kisses

He's incredibly touch starved so you know he's not making you get up anytime soon

#resident evil 8 x reader #re8 x reader #alcina dimitriscu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau x reader #karl heisenberg x reader

1K notes · View notes

professionallydeadinside · 2 years

Note

Was miette born out of the humps on moreaus back like just one day she burst out like that one scene from fucking alien

Dwight watches one too many horror movies and starts to second guess the making of his own child XD

#sal is in a lord meeting or else he'd tell dwight asdfghjk #THATS CODE FOR I DIDNT FEEL LIKE DRAWING SAL LKJHGFDS #dwight kearns #miette moreau #giles and miles larongeur #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil oc #fanchild #next gen #my art #fanart #answered #doodles

41 notes · View notes

sapphicrow · 18 days

Text

The choices for the side enemies in each section of resident evil was very deliberate, and shows off both what Mother Miranda thought the lords deserved and what suits their characters. This may have been for difficulty purposes for each area, but still. I think it is a nice tidbit of flavor to our characters even if it’s indirect. Also I have brain rot.

Moreau doesn’t have any mobs. His reservoir is uniquely isolated. It’s evident from the way the other lords treat him that this is how they feel towards him as well. He isn’t a popular fella. As such, Mother Miranda granted him no special protection or privileges. Besides, I’m sure his bile would repel any creature, even a zombie or moroaica.

Lady Dimitrescu has many creatures within her castle because she interacts with more people on the regular. It’s canon that she had a whole service of female servants who were regularly harvested and experimented on. These subjects are later turned into one of two things: moroaica (the on ground creepy crawlies), or samca (the harpy looking things on the roof). Though we know Alcina isn’t Miranda’s favorite, she’s still pretty high up there. She had to make these critters herself still. Plus, her castle is huge and it only makes sense to have scattered security. I’d say Alcina’s daughters count as a high honor and another reflection of the characterization of Castle Dimitrescu.

As for Lady Beneviento, her situation is an interesting one. Angie doesn’t quite count as a mob, since she is technically an extension of Donna’s consciousness. This is obviously part of her as a person. Disregarding Angie, Donna has no major creatures. I say this because I don’t believe her dolls count as beasts bestowed upon her by Miranda. They’re handmade. She had to harness the skills of cadou experimentation, combined with the craftsmanship of doll making. This reflects Donna because she is isolated, but skillful enough to combat it unlike Moreau. She’s delusional, but evidently not to the same degree as Sal. She copes in her own fucked up, crafty way.

Last but not least, Heisenberg. Now, Heisenberg is Mother Miranda’s established favorite. The golden child. The sun of her sons. It’s also established that Mother’s fondness is by no means requited. Heisenberg loathes her. But nonetheless, even with his absolutely meh loyalty, he has a fair deal of power bestowed upon him. Disregarding his cadou abilities, he has the entirety of the lycan pack. That is no small force. Miranda practically trusts the most dangerous lord with an army. I’d like to believe she isn’t stupid enough not to realize his faulty loyalty, but I feel as if she treats him like a second true child. He’s the son that could’ve been Eva’s big brother should everything have worked out. Love is blind, and Miranda’s too busy to question cutie Karl. Karl also has the Soldats that he’s made himself. This is an intriguing view of him in my opinion. Karl lets Ethan slaughter Miranda’s creation because the entire time he’s been using the powers she gave him to oppose her. Silly guy moment.

Mother Miranda herself has no side mob which is very purposeful as well. She works alone. Her sidekick is the cadou, which we see in the form of all those root looking appendages bursting forth from the ground later in the game. Unlike Moreau who’s isolated due to his insufferable and odorous nature, Miranda is alone by choice. By grief, more accurately. Why bother with companions when Eva isn’t back yet? For her shattered mindset, I’m sure the thought of her daughter is companionship enough. Even with the mold making an appearance, Ethan only has to engage in combat with her herself. This is because even with the mold present, she’s still the vessel. It’s illogical and unnecessary for the megamycete to risk itself when Miranda is right there and so willing to take the blunt of the force.

The megamycete’s side mob is every single thing infected with the mold.

Thank you for reading :) hope it was coherent

#resident evil village #lady dimitrescu #mother miranda #re8 #donna beneviento #dimitrescu sisters #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #yapping #moroaica #samca #I know this was really long and perhaps irrelevant but whatever #thoughts

76 notes · View notes

simplysable · 2 years

Note

How would the Four Lords react to S/O who bakes really extravagant things for them?

Genuinely none of them would know what to do and I’m here for it

Resident Evil Lords With an S/O Who Loves to Bake 🧁

Alcina Dimitrescu

It’s two in the morning, what idiot maid is making a racket in her kitchen-!

Oh it’s you!

Why are you being so loud in her kitchen, of all places?

She sees you shove some bowls behind your back

“Nothing to see here, Alcina! Nothing! You should go back to bed, like, now!”

You were acting odd, but she was exhausted from her meeting with Miranda earlier in the day

“Okay, I will, but I want an explanation for this in the morning. Be quiet, please.”

She got an explanation in the morning

“Miranda was being a bitch, and the girls weren’t helping, so I decided to make you a cake to cheer you up. Surprise?”

Alcina was, in fact, surprised

You stayed up making this all night

And it was gorgeous

It looked like a goddamn wedding cake

Three tiers, fully frosted and decorated with little flowers

“Darling, you made this for me? Oh thank you! You must be exhausted! Come, take a break.”

She had no idea what to do

You made this for her? With your own two hands? And you took hours out of your night to make it instead of sleeping???

You baffled her

She loved you so much

She cooked you a huge dinner that night and praised your cake when you ate dessert

The girls ate that shit in minutes

God she loves you, and she wants you to know it

Donna Beneviento

…were those macaroons on the counter?

With little cursive Ds written in chocolate on top of them?

And a few set aside with little As on them?

You need to drag her out of her room because of how flustered she was (she hid)

Donna is the definition of bashful

She has no idea what to do with this! No one makes her things, especially not you!

She’s supposed to make you things, not the other way around!

Angie expresses Donna’s true emotions, much to your satisfaction (and Donna’s dismay)

“Hon, these things are the best things EVER! You need to make them more! Oh oh! You should make some for Heisy-weisy and put some special herbs in them!”

“…you know what I mean, right? We’re making the metal man get STONED!”

Donna hastily shoves her hand over Angie’s mouth to make her stop talking

It does not stop you from laughing

Or from planning

Donna really is thankful, though

She’s so happy that she found someone so amazing that would go out of their way to make macaroons for her

She’s smitten

Absolutely smitten

And a little embarrassed

Salvatore Moreau

Something wasn’t right

Not that something was wrong, per se, but something was just… different

The lake didn’t smell like it normally did

It was lacking the normal amount of stank, in Sal’s opinion

It almost smelled… sweet??

He followed the smell

And promptly broke down crying

There you were, in his gross kitchen, wearing an apron that Donna made for you

Holding a fresh, wonderful, dozen doughnuts, all glazed and frosted

You just fuckin.. made this for him!?? What-

You turned around, looked at your doughnuts sadly, and asked, “are you allergic to gluten?”

After stopping the flow of tears, Sal explained that no, he wasn’t allergic to gluten, he was just surprised

How did you even make this? And why did you make them for him?

Turns out, you had been requesting specific baking supplies from the Duke, and you stealthily hid everything until you were ready to bake

“But- but why would you do something for me? I’m so.. gross! I don’t want your wonderful treats to go to waste!”

You set down the box, walked over to him, and gave him a lil smooch on the forehead

“I made them because I know you have a sweet tooth, and because I love you, Sal! Do you think I would spend all that lei on baking supplies for someone I hated?”

He tearfully smiled, sat down with you, and ate the best damn doughnuts he ever had

He had no idea how to express his sincere gratitude and surprise other than showering you in compliments

He loves you, so, so much

“Wait, love, how much did you spend on the supplies?”

Aaaaand the waterworks are staring again

Karl Heisenberg

What in the hell was getting the lycans so worked up?? In his fucking kitchen, no less

They normally kept their dumb noses is places where they were supposed to be

But in his kitchen? And this hyper?

He thinks the fuck not

Karl storms in there, hammer blazing and bashing any lycans that were in his way

“What the hell is going on in here? Scram! Go the fuck away! Leave before I turn you into a soldat! Oh, what?”

You were in the kitchen, swarmed by a horde of lycans that were acting like puppies, feeding them something

“Oh, hey Heis. Sorry, I couldn’t get them out.”

“Well what the fuck were they doing in here in the first place?”

“They smelled the cookie batter and came running.”

“The what?”

He was confused

Why were you making cookies? The last time Miranda had them at their “meetings” they tasted like ass

Why were you baking ass

After you explaining that cookies normally don’t taste like ass, you shoved one in his mouth

He was pissed

But then very happy (even thought he didn’t really show it)

You made these for him? Well, he’s happy he picked such a babe to be his partner for life

“Hey, thanks! I’m gonna show these to Miranda and tell her how bad hers were.”

He loves your cookies

And so do the lycans

Hope you like the baking headcanons! Sorry this took so long to post!

1K notes · View notes