#lady dimitrescu pov

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

The continuation for that Alcina fic was fucking deliciousssssss skdjfskldfj

It got me thinking, I'm not sure if you've written a fic like this before or if you would even write one like this, but I was wondering what that situation (or one similar to it) would look like from Alcina's POV?

Hello, dears ♥️ In preparation for reaching ✨1,750 followers✨, I've been working on a little fic that was inspired by both this ask 🔺🔺🔺 (thank you 👀 I'm so glad you liked it jdhddjkd) , as well as this incredible piece of fanart!

But first and foremost:

Thank you all for following! 💋

And as for the request, here you go! Written from Alcina's POV and just under 3k words 👀 I hope some of you will enjoy it! 😁♥️

The Lady found herself in a foul mood as she made her way back into the castle. Met with nothing but absolute silence as she opened the large doors and walked into the even larger foyer. Of course, she expected no one else to be awake at this hour, save for her daughters who were still out on the hunt. Though, as she made her way slowly up the staircase, a faint sound could be heard traveling its way softly through the corridors. A quiet, subtle melody hummed just barely loud enough to be heard. But, of course, she heard it. She heard everything that happened within those castle walls - even when she cared not to.

“The audacity.. sneaking out at this hour.” She grumbled to herself, following the haunting sound. Her foul mood turning even more sour when she realized that her hopes of getting directly into a hot, soothing bath had been swiftly thwarted. Instead making it so she'd likely have to discipline someone instead. She sighed as the voice grew louder, leading her directly into the library.

A Countess' work is never done, Alcina, she thought to herself tiredly. Of course it wasn't. Why should she be able to enjoy the solitude of a hot bath and a glass of her favorite wine after running through the woods chasing after man-things all night? She huffed at the air, frustrated - irritation riddling her weary bones as she opened the doors to the large room - the soft humming immediately halting as she did.

“There's no use in hiding, dear. I may be tired, but I can still smell you from here.”

A murmured curse in response from a voice she knew all too well. She sighed again.

“Draga.. of all the nights to be breaking curfew..”

The Countess was in no mood and she could feel her patience wearing thinner by the minute. Of all people.

“Come out, pet, now.” She ordered through gritted teeth.

Slowly, the figure of her current paramour came hesitantly out from behind the bookstacks and into view. Skin pale and a look of sheer panic on their face.

“Alcina-”

“I don't believe now is the time for such informalities.” She responded sternly, cutting them short.

They swallowed nervously. “Right, of course. S-sorry, my lady. I.. I thought you were out for the night?”

Alcina scoffed. “As if that gives you the right to be disobeying my direct orders? Hm? Traipsing around the castle at all hours of the night.”

“N-no… it's just.. I-”

“Save it, pet. I am in no mood for excuses and you're the last person I wanted to have to discipline tonight.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose and moved further into the room. A profound wave of exhaustion washing over her that forced a slight stumble to her stride.

When was the last time she had even fed? She wondered.

“My lady? Are.. are you alright?”

“It's nothing.” She snarled.

“Countess.. I am.. very sorry for disappointing you. And I know you're angry with me.” The human’s voice softened a little as they moved closer to her, fidgeting anxiously with their fingers. “But, if there is anything I can do? You know, to help.”

“There is.” She growled, “You can start by not being so incompetent!”

This time the words that came out were raw, primal - dipped in venom - the dragon within her inching closer and closer to the surface as her need to feed grew stronger. Albeit, the moment she saw her handservant flinch - coiling back at her words - she couldn't help but soften. Sighing, she turned to face them.

“I am sorry, draga. I seemed to have lost myself. While, yes, I am disappointed that you disobeyed the rules of this castle - you did not.. deserve that.” Alcina sat down in the chair closest to the fireplace and took a deep breath, her body overcome with exhaustion. “I fear it has been too long since I last fed. Which makes being around me at the moment rather.. dangerous. It would be for the best that you return to your quarters for now, pet. I'll deal with your punishment in the morning.”

“Oh. Of course, my lady.”

They bowed and then turned to leave before pausing.

“Uh.. Alcina?” They asked tentatively.

The Countess looked up, eyes heavy. “Hm?”

“Ah, if I may - you could.. use me.. if you wanted?”

Alcina raised an eyebrow. “Use you? How?”

“Ah.. heh.. that is, to feed? From me?”

The Countess stared blankly, shocked for a moment before shaking her head. “That's not necessary, draga. I have everything I need in my room.”

“I'm aware.. but.. you know. You're obviously quite exhausted and I'm.. well, I'm right here.”

They gave her a crooked little smile that she couldn't help but chuckle at.

“If you're trying to get out of your punishment, pet-”

“N-no! I'll fully accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. I just.. want to help, is all.”

“Mmh..” The lady hummed in thought, mulling their very tempting offer. She was exhausted, this was true. And it'd been longer than she could recall since she’d had the taste of fresh blood in her mouth. Warm and pulsing and straight from the tap.

Still..

With the dragon in her so close to the surface, the worries of her losing control were imminent. And the thought of losing yet another partner - one as sweet and caring as they were, again - was almost too much of a thought to handle. Alcina physically shuddered at the thought, the warmth from the fire doing very little to calm her worries. Worries that her handservant must have quickly picked up on. Small fingers sliding into her own and a kind face looking up at her as they kneeled on the castle floor in front of her.

“Hey, I trust you.”

Alcina snorted. “Famous last words, pet.”

They chuckled softly. “How about this then.. is there maybe another part of my body that would be safer to drink from? Than say, my neck?”

The Lady smirked. “Mh, perhaps... your inner thigh would probably work.”

Alcina watched as a soft pink hue began to crawl across the human's cheeks. It was strikingly gorgeous basked in the firelight.

“O-oh.. well, ah.. that seems.. doable.”

A flash of crimson as her smirk widened. Her lover’s heartbeat quickening by the minute, thumping loudly over the soft crackle of the fire.

“Mhm.. are you certain? It may… hurt, quite a bit.”

Oh, how that blush grew even deeper at the Countess’ words. How exquisite it was. Alcina could feel the smugness seeping into the corners of her lips as she watched them fluster.

“I.. oh.. that's okay. I don't mind, my lady. R-really.” They replied, rubbing the back of their neck.

Not that they would've been the first of Alcina's suitors to be into pain. Far from it, in fact - it seemed to be a commonality in many of the lovers she had taken over the years. Whether it was just something that came with the territory - or more the fact that whenever they looked at her they found themselves thinking “big lady, break me” - either way, it was a noticeably recurring occurrence in the Countess’ love life.

“Very well.” Alcina replied, rising from the chair to her full height. “Pull up your skirt, pet, and take a seat.”

As dutiful as ever, her servant quickly obeyed and took their Lady's place on the large chair. A coy smile on their face as they pulled the simple fabric of their uniform past their upper thighs, exposing their supple flesh along with their dampened undergarments.

“Like this?” They asked with a smirk.

“Bold time for you to be acting bratty, pet. Don't you think?”

“Ah.. m-maybe?” They answered sheepishly.

“Mhm.”

And even though the Countess’ tone remained firm, she could only shake her head and chuckle as she lowered herself down to the fresh, warm meal that waited for her. A deep flush decorating the human’s cheeks as the Lady knelt in front of them, hands spreading their legs a little further apart for her.

“O-oh.. uh.”

The Countess looked at them curiously before leaning back. “If you're having second thoughts, pet-”

“N-no! I just.. ah.. this view is just.. really nice.”

An even smugger smirk grew across the Lady's lips. “Mhm.. is it now?”

“I mean.. yes?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts then, draga.. very rarely does one ever get me on my knees.”

The flushed servant almost choked in response as they quickly nodded, face as red as their employer’s lips.

“I.. mhm.. enjoying it. Yes.”

“Mh.. probably wet at just the sight, aren't you?” Alcina asked teasingly, forcing them to whine.

“A-alcinaa.. that's unfair.”

“And that's not an answer.”

The Countess' words grew a little darker, punctuating them with a firm scratch across the human's inner thigh, immediately pulling droplets of warm crimson to the surface.

They cursed. “Fine.. yes.. I am.”

“Mh.. good.”

A single sweep of her tongue over the fresh gash forced another whine from her lover, a fierce shiver rolling over their body. Alcina knew she was going to enjoy all of this maybe a little too much - but the needy sounds she could will from their lips was something she would never grow tired of. And as she leaned in a little further, with their metallic essence still warm in her mouth, she could smell just how aroused they already were.

Very good.

"Deep breaths now, pet. This is going to sting.”

They nodded softly in response, cheeks a brilliant hue and eyes widening the moment the Countess’ incisors began to lengthen, readying themselves to feed. Another swirl of her tongue over the spot she'd already marked. A rush of blood right below the surface, drawing the vampire directly to the proper vein. And as she gave her meal a final smirk, she took their thigh between two large hands and brought it to her mouth.

“Mmmph-!”

Whimpered breaths from her prey’s lips as sharp fangs seeped eagerly into their flesh.

“Mmmh.”

A subtle moan from within her own as she slowly drew their essence into her mouth, savoring the exquisite flavor of them. They tasted even better than she’d imagined - sweeter, more refined - with metallic undertones fueled by a life force that only made her all the more hungry.

“You taste divine, draga.” Alcina murmured, her words reverberating deep into their skin before her fangs were sunk back in again.

“Ah-!”

The subtle flinch to the muscle that laid just beneath her teeth, the soft moan that fell from their whispered lips - the Countess knew if she didn't keep her control that she could very easily become ravenous for their taste. The pulse of it flowing warmly over her tongue as she swallowed it down, indulging herself in the life that danced throughout it.

They would surely make an excellent wine.

And even though the thought was morbid to most - to Alcina, it was merely a compliment. One of the highest in fact. Though, she found all the best tasting humans tended to be the ones she had no desire of actually killing. Ones that inherently touched her heart and moved her soul. But hell if she didn't appreciate any chance she got at a taste.

Her lover's growing moans were the only thing to bring her back from her thoughts - from giving into the primal force that always sat just under the skin - ready to take over. But gods, could she smell how wet they were for her. How their body squirmed every time she drew a long pull of blood from them. Their flesh heated against her lips, their strong musk enveloping the tiny space between them. And out of the corner of her eye, Alcina could even see that the chair beneath the human was readily growing damper.

”Good”. She thought smugly, a smirk beneath her blood coated lips when she finally pulled away to look up at them.

"Am I to believe you're actually enjoying this, draga? Are you really so needy?”

They whined at her ridicule, squirming even more - her teasing tone and slightly taunting words having the exact effect on them that she wanted.

“You will answer me if you expect something done about it.” She demanded.

Another whine.

“F-fuck.. yes, okay? It's.. it feels good.”

“Mh. Better.”

The Lady placed a gentle kiss to their inner thigh and then brought two fingers to the hem of their underwear, swiftly ripping the fabric from their body. Her patented smirk growing even wider the moment the measure of their arousal was reflected in the firelight - they were absolutely dripping for her.

“Well, well.. all this for me?”

“All for you. A-always.”

“Charming, are we?”

Alcina went to move a little closer but felt them tense, immediately making her stop. A single eyebrow raised at them inquisitively.

“Draga?”

“It's just.. you're exhausted, Alcina.. you don't have to-”

“Hush. When have you ever known me to do something I haven't wanted?”

They chuckled, blushing sheepishly. “You have a point.”

“Plus,” she smirked, “I'm not quite finished with my meal yet.”

An even deeper blush. “O-oh. Alright, then.”

The Countess hummed in content when her lover finally relaxed, their head falling softly back. Their sweet scent immediately pulling her back in, lips quickly finding their pulse point while her fingers teased their entrance. With soft folds so wet that she found barely any resistance as she slid two fingers into them, generously stretching their core.

“Mmph-!”

A single curl as the Countess closed her eyes, allowing her fangs to sink deep into the human’s flesh once again.

“F-fuck-”

She couldn't help but to draw her gaze upward, to enjoy the view for just a moment. Her stunning love - flushed, legs spread - eyes closed softly in a mix of want and preparation. It truly were a shame, she thought, how mortal humans could be. To lose such a gorgeous sight was an offense to Alcina’s very being. That the world could ever lose such beauty? It was a thought that made her all the more eager - almost ravenous - to possessively stake her claim upon them.

To which she did..

With the Lady's fangs seeped deep within their flesh and her fingers buried in their core. Thrusting, curling. Matching the controlled pulls from their thigh as she feasted upon them. With each movement willing the most arousing sounds from her lover. Some breathy, some loud - moaning each and every time Alcina drove her fingers in a little harder. But it wasn't enough, not for her. The Countess wanted more. She wanted her name screamed out into the night in ecstasy. She wanted her claim imprinted into the stars themselves.

And she paid no mind to how many orgasms ripped across her lover's body. She cared not for how soaked both her fingers and the fabric below her became. Having now fed to her content, her mouth began moving onto marking the rest of their thighs. Nibbling and sucking over every inch of eager flesh that she could reach. Their essence dripping from the corners of her mouth and painting their skin in a dark crimson. Their body trembling, vibrating with desire until another orgasm ripped through them violently, finally forcing the Countess’ name from their tongue like a pious prayer. Their voice quickly falling to nothing more than a whisper - raw from unhindered pleasure.

“F-fuck, Alcina..”

“Mh, language.”

“Pretty sure.. it's warranted.”

Alcina chuckled before licking the excess blood from her lover's wounds, their thighs sufficiently covered in her claim.

“These should heal in a few days. I'll bring you some balm for them tomorrow.”

“Hm.. I like them, though.” The human pouted.

The Countess snorted. “Of course you do. My sweet little masochist.”

Feeling fully refreshed from her meal, Alcina had no intention of sleeping anytime soon, but she knew her handservant would certainly need rest after all of that. The loss of blood mixed with the intense dopamine boost would be enough to wipe anyone out. Without muttering a word, Alcina rose to her full height and picked up her lover's discarded underwear before lifting them up into her arms and into a full bridal carry.

“My lady-!”

“Hush, draga. You've lost a fair amount of blood, as well as other bodily fluids. You need to rest.” Even with the short walk from the library to the servants quarters, the body in her arms quickly grew heavy with sleep - the human’s breath nearly in a slumbered rhythm by the time they’d arrived.

“I’ll be back with some tea and something sweet for you, pet.” She said as she laid them gently onto their bed. “Please, try to drink and eat at least a little something before falling asleep.”

Her lover nodded tiredly, eyes heavy and cheeks flush with sleep.

“Mhm.. yes.. mistress…”

Alcina smiled and placed a tiny kiss to their cheek before walking towards the door. She was more than certain they'd be fast asleep by the time she returned, but she’d still do her best to make sure they woke up knowing just how much she treasured them.

Warm tea, their favorite pastry, some balm for their wounds and a note reading "Thank you for the exquisite meal, draga. Next time is on me. - xx, Alcina." would be there to greet them as soon as they woke up.

A/N: If I ever make it to 2k, I might just finally do some bottom!Alcina for you all 👀♥️

#depravity answered #anonymous #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu pov #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #this is my 2nd attempt ever at writing from Alcina's POV 👀 #i hope i did her justice ♥️ #thank you all so much for following! #1750 followers ✨ #re8 asks

[viioletgarden]

cassandra...? cassandra?

#alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 #resident evil village #resident evil #quick sad doodle #pov alcina survives the ethan incident but at least one of the girls doesn't #i need to draw alci more she's very difficult

[rhinestonecowdoy]

I Will Banish Your Fears (Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader)

(never wrote Reader stuff before but I was viciously struck by this fluffy idea of Alcina cuddling her human and well, here we are 0_0. Uh....Enjoy!)

Alcina was unaccustomed to non-violent human contact. You noticed the hesitation early on in the relationship; a large hand reaching out to cup your face, only to pull back. Reassuring her that you were no fragile bird, you had plucked back her hand and let it settle on your face. Even through the cold leather of the glove, you felt the warmth of her love. 

From then on, she made more efforts to touch you; a finger idly curling a lock of your hair or the sweep of her palm against your back. She knew you weren't made of glass, but with her bloodthirsty ways, the fear was a constant reminder of what she could do.

Never once holding you in those powerful arms lest the love of her life be taken away by an accidental display of strength.

Even so, you continued to encourage her, drawing her out of her reticent shell. 

One night, while you lay bundled in her bed, you stare at the adjacent, empty pillow sleepily. What would it be like to have her giant frame pressed against you? How would it feel to be wrapped in her embrace; her breath and scarlet lips hovering against your neck? Alcina was such an intimidating woman to every human that unfortunately met their end at her claws. But in those same hands, you met your beginning. You turn in the bed, flopping your arm off the side of the bed, roiling with emotions. 

Every single day, she told you she loved you, and you without doubt, loved her but her fears kept her back. You chuckle slightly at the thought. Fear wasn't something the great Lady Dimitrescu grappled with externally. She was a strict, ferocious woman who only showed love to her daughters behind closed doors. 

But your brand of love drove a stake of worry into her heart; humans were easily broken and easily eaten. The nature of a vampiress was to consume, after all.

You hoped your dreams would be kinder to you and shower you with fanciful thoughts of being cuddled by a gentle monster. The mattress dips and you're jolted out of your pondering as you feel a large hand, devoid of a glove, slide down your arm with a feather-light touch. 

"Are you awake, my love?" the familiar, purring voice says quietly; hesitantly.

You mumble an agreement, smirking at the lack of social etiquette you displayed. Alcina preferred clarity and surety with all things; your hypocritical beloved showed none of those things in that moment. Electricity shoots down your spine as she leans down, brushing her lips against the curve of your ear before pressing a kiss on your temple. 

The confidence drained out of Alcina once again, you noticed and it hurt your heart to have such vulnerability taken away so quickly. Though you were much smaller than her, you knew yourself, knew your strengths and weaknesses. You also knew what to do next.

You count to three, readying yourself before grabbing the larger hand barely skating on your skin. Alcina gave the cutest yelp of surprise and you try to fight back blushing laughter as you lock that arm around your body, pushing yourself backwards into her own. Alcina doesn't fight it, laying there as if frozen, unsure of what to do next. With a smile, you lace your fingers together with her own, squeezing to reassure her that you would not fracture from her strength. 

And finally, she comes to terms with her love for you, allowing every fear within her mind to evaporate under your grip. Leaning her head down, she buried her nose in your hair, inhaling deeply before laying a soft kiss between the strands. Sleep came over you alot quicker than you thought as you snuggled into the spooning, feeling her cool skin against your back. 

The night drifts on as the two of you lay beneath the covers, indulging in these tender affections only available to you and you alone; her human, her beautiful human. 

However, with every pro, there's a con. When morning came around, you awoke first for once while Alcina still slept soundly. That same bestial strength was tamed but still showed as you tried to get out of being hugged so tightly. Alcina doesn't budge and neither could you apparently. Sighing dramatically, you lay back against Alcina, blushing at her refusal to let you go, even in her dreams.

#Literally typed this out in 2 seconds because I needed this out of my system ASAP #Soft Alcina makes me cry tbh #Alternate title: POV You are a soda can in a recycling plant by the foreman plucks you off the crushing mechanism because you're so shiny #re8 fanfiction #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 #fluff #lady dimitrescu x maiden

[mariiadoesart]

Nooo Lady D don’t chase me all over your castle

#fanart #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil fanart #videogame fanart #pov she’s about to kill you #love her though #my art

[uniquevocashark]

The Forbidden Happy End Fic part 2

Now with 100% more alcina

Trigger warnings for: gore, murder, cannibalism, attempted murder, assault, mild body horror, manipulation, child endangerment, attempted child murder

“Of course I ‘get it’. It’s simple arithmetic.”

Rosemary squinted at the pages again, “Well I don’t get it.”

“Of course you do,” Igraine said, pointing down at the matrix, “It’s a simple game of ensuring you get zeros here, here and here. At least for this one it is.”

Rosemary looked at her with wide eyes, responding not a word as Igraine tried to get her attention. “Fine,” She said, and Rosemary blinked and smiled, “Perhaps we should take a break for lunch then, armillaria, before your eyes glaze over unintentionally.”

It had a been a month and this was only Igraine’s second time in the company of Rosemary in that span. They had treated her like an eagle being introduced to an eaglet; Rosemary had been behind a thick wall of glass and the talking they did was through a set of perilously aggravating radios. They had been given only half an hour and, when Rosemary had seemed even more clingy rather than perturbed, their classes had been set up again. It was not all sunshine; Igraine had learned of Rosemary’s new tutor. An arrogant idiot surely; it had taken the entire session to coax Rosemary into even doing work again and only a few minutes in she would clamp up and shake her head.

How annoying it was that she had to keep her complaints succinct, professional and confined to paper.

But other than that newfound desire to fail arithmetic, Rosemary was energetic and recovering; she played the board games with the clumsy enthusiasm all children seemed to have, her questions were full of vigour, and she leaned full bodily into listening for each answer and nook of information Igraine had to give. Her skin was still clammy and pale, and she had seemed to shrink despite no change in weight or height (Igraine had checked thrice already).

And the new deluge of squishy meat in well sown armour to stalk Igraine’s every move had become part of her routine.

“You’re cold,” Igraine said, grabbing up Rosemary’s arm as she zipped up her bag. “Did you bring a jacket?”

“I feel fine,” Rosemary shook Igraine’s arm off, “It’s summer.”

Igraine put her hands in the pockets of the coat she was wearing, fishing out the notepad of sticky notes, pen and phone and setting them on the table. “Terrible insult, armillaria.”

“I wasn’t—” Igraine’s coat engulfed her, Rosemary pulled it off her face dramatically.

“Good,” Igraine tied her scarf around Rosemary’s neck, “Because that was piss poor and I taught you better.”

Rosemary rolled the sleeves of the jacket up, “Maybe.”

“Now then, your mother should have packed you lunch?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve already eaten it, haven’t you?”

“…yeah.”

Igraine laughed, and looked askance at the guards, “I suppose you’ll just have to share with me then.”

And there— a smile, crouched in the lines of her scarf. “You cook?” she said reproachfully, with the lilt of someone unused to being reproachful.

“Dear girl, of course I cook.”

“Pfft.”

“Oh you wound me, armillaria,” Igraine put a hand on her heart, “More pasta for me.”

Rose’s eyes lit up, “The seafood one?”

“The very same.”

She flung her backpack on, “Yay!”

…

The bricks of Her lab were old.

The mortar between them was cracked through with thick veins of crystallised mold as thick as an artery, glimmering beneath its grimy exterior. The floor had been comforted by a thick blanket of snow; it covered the tables and the chairs, the innumerable notes pinned on the walls and tucked into bookshelves, on the tops of jars and covering rusty instruments.

When she swept the snow away the grime was still there, taking the form of a bulbous egg that curled ever gently, like an underdeveloped foetus.

…

At one point in time, Igraine had suggested that the hallways could use more décor. Blue Umbrella had been afflicted with the debilitating disease of minimalism, where the implication of being able to replace something was more important than actually displaying wealth. The fact that it was cold, bland and an eyesore was, apparently, a secondary issue.

“That’s my new teacher.” Rosemary muttered, leaning into Igraine as if sharing a secret. Rosemary waved; in the mindless happy way she always did.

The teacher was, disappointingly, a man. Bland and groomed as all the other men were in the building. From a distance he had looked almost interesting. Alas, she thought as he came closer and greeted Rosemary, he was thunderously mundane. Igraine used her vantage to look down her nose; he may have shared a height, but he had none of her own better bearing. He was as good as a mouse to her. He adjusted his shirt.

He did a sort of half lean, half bow, breaking the lines of his body into awkward bends that did not come off as carelessly as he clearly intended. Igraine had gently stepped ahead of Rosemary, a mere quarter step, placing herself in front of her girl. Her reaction, she realised a half moment after he had straightened and turned to address her properly, was not entirely reasonable.

“Hi, its nice to meet you,” His voice was pleasantly baritone. Igraine turned her head and tuned out his next sentence, looking down at Rosemary fidgeting with her fingers. It was silent, and she realised she had completely ignored what’s-his-name.

“Yes, charmed,” she said mildly, extending her hand. He took her fingers awkwardly, as if he had been anticipating a handshake rather than the exception to bend and kiss her knuckles, and then, with a floundering sort stop in her voice, “I’m Rosemary’s… grand aunt.”

She regarded his odd expression with one of her own.

“You’re looking good.” He said, adjusting the way his shirt sat.

She made her stare more pointed, then flickered her eyes to his with good humour, “Lucky genetics.”

He opened his mouth and Igraine decided that pleasant baritone was the wrong descriptor. She turned her ear towards him slightly. He had lost his stride in the conversation, his voice dying quickly, and she decided, then, that it was a much more mundane baritone dressed in a confidence it didn’t have.

…

“You dream, right?” Rosemary asked her at lunch, mouth full of pasta and sea snails, her face scrunched like she wanted to smile despite her overfull cheeks.

“Of course, dear girl,” Igraine had answered distantly, refilling the empty bowl that Rosemary offered her with eager hands. “Dreaming is natural.”

“I’ve been dreaming of an egg,” Rosemary went on, “But a bad egg, all weird shaped.”

Igraine smiled at her, leaning in over her already finished bowl, “That’s interesting, what else happened?”

Rosemary leaned in too, tipping her bowl and getting sauce all over her shirt, “A bird that breathed lasers.”

…

Igraine’s cheeks hurt from smiling, but she was nothing if not persistent. They smile stayed tacked on sweetly, with only the barest jaw twinge plaguing her, and watched as Redfield’s face went from disinterested, to mildly annoyed, to suspicious. He was hunched over his coffee and papers as he always was at this time of year (Autumn, she thought, and struggled to think of the months that comprised it).

“You met Dave.” He said eventually. He looked at her and sighed, “Rose’s new tutor.”

“He’s an amateur.” Igraine replied baselessly, crossing her arms and puffing her chest out like a mother hen.

“You said that about the last one.”

“I was right about the last one.”

“You weren’t,” he said without heat, “Stealing files doesn’t count as poor teaching.”

“It does.” She admonished, holding the last syllable and letting them lapse back into silence. It was almost comfortable but was that really a surprise, she thought, when she was so masterful at making silences comfortable?  The passed the next hour in that silence; Igraine did not jump on the opportunities to read his classified papers, leaning back in her chair and humming to herself instead. A piano tune she had been taught years ago, and which had come back to haunt her the past month.

She laid her head back, facing the ceiling, and half closed her eyes, “Have you talked to Rosemary recently?”

“A bit.”

“She was bursting at the seams to talk about her dreams.”

“Laser birds eat the president, and she turns it into a unicorn.”

“And the evil egg, you can’t forget the evil egg.”

He didn’t respond.

“Fleshy looking,” She said eventually, closing her eyes fully, “white and black, curled oddly, thumping like a heart and covered in odd scales.”

His pen scratched lightly on his papers. His tone was stubborn, “That’s a detailed dream.”

“The scales were more like skin,” She went on wistfully, “like big patches, like a teratoma. Teeth springing from the roots.”

“Seems Rose likes talking to you.” He said irritably.

“Thank you,” She replied, “Rosemary did say it was the same in her dream.”

…

“Gosh, Redfield,” Igraine exclaimed cartoonishly, her voice flat, “Not even going to court me before showing me your goods?”

The room was fit to bursting, crowded around a window at one side. She looked around quizzically. They had gone a long and winding route, but the room was recognisable enough. Through the glass was the hallway from a month ago, constructed into a wide room. Sitting in the centre, dappled by the floodlights trained on it, was the blob of mold Rosemary had created.

It had sprung roots from the base, and curling out of those roots like flowers were teeth, attached on thin stalks of tongue-like flesh. They shook like daisy in the wind, flailing wildly.

Igraine kept her expression mild, and her voice mildly interested, “It’s alive. You didn’t kill it?”

“That was the plan but,” Redfield said, finally expressing irritation, “We thought it would be best to study it beforehand. Get a feel for Rosemary’s abilities and countermeasures for it.”

“We?” Igraine said lightly.

“We,” Redfield supplied stubbornly, “The higher ups thought it would be useful in improving our vaccine.”

“Threatened by a child.”

“By the mold.”

“That is, again, shaped like a child.”

He glared at her, “She is a child.”

“Rosemary is a bioweapon, Redfield.”

His expression soured and his voice was quiet, “Don’t. I made a promise to protect her.”

She didn’t reply, looking at him as quizzically as she had at the room. “Are those mutually incompatible statements?”

He glared at her again.

With as much sympathy as she could muster, she patted his hand. The window glass was at least ten inches thick, and a cursory tap revealed it to be cold and hard. She made a small scratch with one nail, then flexed all her fingers on its surface slowly, feeling it rumble under her palm, “Hm.”

The egg undulated and stretched, like a hand pressing outwards on a thick sheet of latex and disrupting the smooth surface. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”

Redfield had moved to stand by a table and glanced at her, “Like what?”

A hand broke through the shell.

…

Her fingers were suddenly cold; the glass they rested on suddenly warm. Her chest had squeezed itself in and burst; her mind was raging around her skull like an overly excited electron. When she tried to flex her fingers they barely moved. She realised, dully, that her hand had gone through two of the four layers; her wrist and finger muscles were pierced through and her nails, when she could make her fingers twitch, made a loud eee-eee-eee that kissed her ears and set them to ringing.

Igraine touched her head gently, smearing blood over her eyes and forehead. She took a moment to glance at Redfield, hunched on his side at her back, dusted in shards of glass like a freshly erased drawing on paper. His face had the touch of a bruise; she had pushed him too hard into the wall.

The others that had been around (scientists? Engineers? (Did it matter?) They were all just meat.) were a smattering of viscera around her knees. They had been rendered apart like a beaked whale’s skin to an orca’s teeth; skin had become paper and the flesh inside a soft gooey treat rapidly cooling and losing flavour.

And there Igraine was going again.

Lady Dimitrescu’s nails had punched through the glass and mortar like a pencil through paper; she had left her arm in and dragged it horizontally into every sack of flesh around. Her rampage had only stopped when her claws had crashed into Igraine’s vertebrae, slipping the disk, and slammed her against the wall. Igraine was almost dizzy with pain.

One of Lady Dimitrescu’s nails had lodged into a crevice of her spine; when she flexed her fingers up, Igraine went with them. Lady Dimitrescu yanked her against the glass, and Igraine hit it nose on with a thunderous crack. Once. Twice. Her intestines spilled like fallen beads, bouncing off the floor and sliding like eels to bread, eager to fill themselves with shards and dust. Igraine slid with them with one enduring SNAP, glass crunching against the bones of her wrist.

She pressed her bloody palm to her nose; her delicate bones had snapped in two places, crunching when she reset them clumsily.

“Ow.” Igraine coughed blood, cupping her traitorous liver as it spilled over the slide of her intestines, tasting the air. She slid down the wall, her wrist impaled on the glass, cupping her mutinous organs back in as they pulsed and pushed against the broken lining of her abdomen. Her Lady was laughing somewhere. It was like a song, dizzying and sweet, rage fuelled. It itched at her brain, a nauseating sense of nostalgia as sweet and as cloying as the meat around her was.

She was surrounded by meat, a deluged of livers, gallbladders and intestines snaking from one set of gore to the other. Igraine leaned against the wall, half a liver in her mouth, listening to her own flesh knit together and her Lady’s rampage. She licked the blood off her hand. She looked at Chris.

No, she probably shouldn’t.

What had she said before? Without even a moments courtship? It would be improper without some pampering first. Her head was ringing, like the tinkling of bells.

Doing something, soon, would be nice. She spat out a shard of glass wrapped in a glob of her blood and licked the skins of it from her teeth. Her wrist ached and throbbed. She was bleeding too much for her tastes but pulling doubled the pain and Igraine, her head aching, was so very out of practice. “I don’t have the time anymore.” Igraine said to herself, wiggling her wrist and hissing.

She looked at Redfield, injured but alive.

Really, she had gone above what she needed to now. She kicked Redfield, listening to his groan of protest, and then kicked him again. Living. She tilted her head, blinking rapidly as if it would clear the fog coming back into her thoughts. Redfield, she reflected, was not a man that looked to die. He clung stubbornly to living, like a kind of power. She mulled over it in her head. She had reacted and pushed him back, he must have hit something and then…

She glared at him, chewing on the closest organ she could grab (gallbladder maybe? Bitter, oddly chewy. Unhealthy. When did she grab it, exactly?). And then she had claws in her belly, and a slipped disk in her spine. She looked at Redfield again, yanking on her wrist until the glass snapped and she slumped over. She blinked black spots from her vision and wiped her other hand down the unsullied side of her pants.

“It would be funny,” She said out loud, sliding her clean hand into his coat and taking his gun, “Wouldn’t it, Chris? If you died because you had a bit of a tumble.”

Chris was still muscled despite his age; he would have been thrown for scrap to the moroaice for it. Fat was always better on older manthings, she had been told; it made them much tastier when cooked. She poked him, careful not to get her blood on it. Lady Dimitrescu had always said it carried an unpleasant floral taste when applied in excess and Igraine had no desire to see a Redfield bioweapon. There were cameras in the room, she knew, and they would catch no matter how discreet she was if she cut him into little, edible bits or flushed him full of progenitor.

She shook her head free of useless thoughts.

Igraine rubbed her still bleeding wrist, cocking the gun and checking its ammo. “Three bullets. Cocky.”

She looked at Redfield, who didn’t respond, and dug the toe of her shoe into his ribs until he made a noise.

“Oh I’m sure,” She said conversationally, leaning her shoulder against the door and shoving, blinking black spots from her vision, “It’s like you want to die.”

She paused. He didn’t respond.

“Why am I even talking to you?” She wondered aloud.

Her head was quiet. Blissfully her own. Only the gentle beating of her heart and the sound of her skin knitting itself together sluggishly. She waited another minute, hearing the loud squealing of claws on metal in one ear and the echo through the room in another.

…

Igraine had no plan.

There was the inkling for revenge, misguided. There was the high of hearing her Lady’s voice after so long (her Lady, her Lady, her Lady. What was her name again?). Love, she had heard, was never wasted, and hers had flared as bright and high as her blood had splattered all over the wall, brilliant and dark red. Did she hope (she did) that she would be remembered?

Rosemary, she came to realise as she crept closer, following the long winding road of destruction, had been in this direction. It was a mild sort of understanding that bloomed slowly like a tingle through her arms and legs. She had an inkling she would find both of them soon and stopped before the corner to process that. Her Lady and her armillaria were around it; the realisation tingled down her spine like a stack of fine porcelain down a flight of concrete stairs.

She did not like that awareness.

Igraine poked her head around the corner. Rosemary was a speck of pink and grey dust in Lady Dimitrescu’s hands; she swung her fists and kicked her legs valiantly, punching up and hitting Lady Dimitrescu’s arm with accuracy and power. The power of a child, of course, ineffective against the frank muscle that crouched under grey skin.

Igraine watched the scene, puzzling over her own sudden distaste. Distaste over having the sense at all, or distaste over the way it rankled through her head like a gong snapping in half.

Lady Dimitrescu, Igraine remembered suddenly, was not overly fond of children. And her armillaria had always been a thin stick of a child, easily snapped.

Igraine raised the gun, then half lowered it.

“Let me go!” Rosemary shouted, her face turning red from her tears, “Let me go, let me go, let me go!”

“Be silent!” Lady Dimitrescu thundered and Igraine’s legs stiffened beneath her. She swayed, intending to go forward, and realised that her arms had slackened by her sides. Igraine blinked and looked at her hands.

Rosemary did not react well, her face went redder, and she had abandoned her punching to claw at Lady Dimitrescu’s fingers. “I said let go!”

Lady Dimitrescu shook her wildly, adjusting the grip she had and yanking harder on Rosemary’s hair. Lady Dimitrescu had apparently given up on her interrogation, holding the squirming girl at her side jamming her claws between the door and the wall, leveraging it open.

There was a chance that Rosemary’s neck would snap with that grip, Igraine told herself, crouched behind a potted plant. She could easily shoot Lady Dimitrescu’s hand off from here, without damage to Rosemary. The gun dangled in her hands. Rosemary was biting at the air, her eyes red and full of tears. Her finger wouldn’t pull the trigger. She weighed the gun in her hand and then flung it handle first.

She had aimed for the hand and hit the elbow.

Lady Dimitrescu moved only her eyes. Her gaze flicked down Igraine’s body like oil and up again like flame. She strode down the hallway, pulling helpless Rosemary with her and when Igraine blinked it almost seemed like the walls had morphed into thick white stone. Her body had seized itself still; Lady Dimitrescu pinched the neck of her shirt and pulled her back. Like a doll she sagged, then righted herself.

Rosemary was set down slowly, kicking and screaming, and Igraine persuaded her legs to take a half step away. Lady Dimitrescu bent down, pulled her hand back and backhanded Igraine across the face. Her neck cracked and she crashed into the potted plant. Lady Dimitrescu grabbed her by the neck, wrapping her fingers around like they were a scarf, and dangled her like she was a puppy.

Lady Dimitrescu was silent, stepping over Rosemary towards the wall. She reared her arm back and slammed Igraine face first into the nearest wall. She yelped, her nose making a loud snap as she hit the wall a second time. Igraine kissed the wall a third time, a single claw extending from one dug in finger through her larynx.

“Heretic,” Her Lady pulled her back and leaned into trail of blood running down Igraine’s shirt, “what right do you have to show your face to me?”

…

Rosemary’s tears were fat blobs of white crystalising mold that melted back into her cheeks with every sniffle. She took Igraine by the arm and started shaking her, slowly and then urgently.

“Aunty,” Rosemary sobbed, “Please be okay.”

Igraine caught only the end of the sentence, looked at Rose and saw only a beige blob, “I’m okay.” She lied, cringing at the sound of her own voice. “Where are we?”

Rosemary buried herself into Igraine’s chest, clutching onto her shirt and skin as fiercely as a hand frozen to an iron bar. Igraine was too tired to move her arms, and nuzzled Rosemary’s head gently instead.

“Rosemary.” She tried again. There was still something in her throat.

“We’re at the egg,” Rose said, and Igraine sighed so hard she coughed blood, “I dragged you here when security got to the big lady. She kept smashing your head into the wall and yelling at you and—”

“Shh.” Igraine soothed, booping Rose’s cheek with her nose. Rosemary hiccupped and somewhere, Igraine thought she could hear the sound of nails on metal.

#lady dimitrescu x oc #lady dimitrescu #the forbidden happy end fic #the forbidden happy end fic part 2 #my writing #igraine wesker chief of castle staff #rosemary winters #third person pov #boy am i excited about this one! #enjoy <3 #damn i gotta update my ao3 tags now lol

[therealjammy]

Tiny excerpt from a new oneshot headed your way soon; I’m salty I always get ideas before I have to go to work

#personal #writing things #i'm torn between making this a story where a curious maid finds lady d's diary and reads it and is stirred by the content she finds #or making it told entirely through diary entries #or having that diary entry and a flashback told in first person from lady d's POV #re8 #resident evil village #lady dimitrescu

[rippersz]

𝙎𝙞𝙭 𝙄𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨

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(Alcina Dimitrescu and Larissa Weems Have A Conversation) (Flirty; Gay Panic; Potential Romance?) (L.W.’s POV) (Lady D is slightly OOC)

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“Thank you again, Principal Weems, for accepting my daughters. I understand you had to pull a few strings, and for that I am eternally grateful. Let’s just hope they don’t give you any issues, hm?” And a glass of red wine is then brought up to burgundy lips; prompting a hum, a sip, and finally a slow lick along white teeth.

Larissa allows herself to watch, entranced for but a moment, before she’s clearing her throat and giving the woman a polite smile.

“It was no trouble at all, Ms. Dimitrescu. And I’m sure the girls will have plenty of opportunities to flourish. I’m only glad you came before the semester started- otherwise it would have been cutting it finely,” she mused, maintaining a professional tone as best she could while her clasped hands trembled within her lap.

Something about the woman on the other side of her desk, sitting in a chair much too small, was setting Larissa on edge. Aside from the obvious prestige of her name and status, the very displacement- the shift of air- that happened when she walked into a room was astounding. The Principal felt it earlier, only in passing and for a moment, before the three rascals that accompanied her stole most of the attention away.

But here, in the flickering light of the fire and the darkness of the evening, it’s just her and Alcina Dimitrescu. Mother of three, esteemed vintner and business owner, royalty to some extent, and ex jazz musician. Larissa has some of her records in her quarters, but she won’t tell her that. Maybe one day, if they grow closer, but such thoughts are merely the wishes of a lonely woman. Desires with no basis and dreams with no end. Alcina Dimitrescu is exactly her type, yes, and she enjoys her wine, yes, and she finds her marvelously beautiful, yes, but that doesn’t matter. She has to maintain professionalism. She cannot allow the woman to see the effect she has (even though the constant smirk she wears tells Larissa that she most definitely already knows).

“Oh you have no idea how lucky I feel,” comes the deep purr of her tone. “The girls had been bugging me about Nevermore for ages. Only about a month ago did I actually start my research. And I’m glad I did.” Larissa certainly isn’t hallucinating then as sharp grey eyes slowly travel over her upper body. Roaming from her broad shoulders to her bust.

The room suddenly feels very warm. And her dress feels very restricting. But she ignores it.

Professional, professional, professional.

Even though there is nothing professional about Alcina Dimitrescu’s disposition. Oh no. The only thing that exists there is pure desire. Like the deep passionate idea of sex everyone has in their minds - except in the form of a human being. Or a… well she isn’t actually sure what she is. To the average person, at first glance, they may just assume she’s a well put-together tall woman - but Larissa is not a naive, simple woman. She has grown up around outcasts. Give her a test about outcast history, behavior, types, culture, origins, and she will pass with flying colors. Keen eyes notice the signs, the appearance, the behavior, and the things they do to cover it all up.

Like the skin.

It’s beautiful skin. Flawless skin. But painted white, when it’s actually grey. She can see it slightly- so slightly- beneath the makeup near her temple. Where beautiful bouncy black curls meet a pale forehead. She can see the smallest patch of grey. Gargoyle, is her first thought. But when she sees the teeth- stark white and normal, aside from the knife-sharp cuspids that shine in the firelight- she thinks Vampire. But then the hands… She was wearing gloves, but at some point had discarded them into her purse and is now lounging in the chair, holding her wine glass in such a delicate way that Larissa begins to envy the fucking thing. Light skin fades from the huge space of a feminine palm into the dark as midnight color of long slim fingers. They cradle the belly of the glass with a gentle touch - and Larissa catches sight of the nails. Painted black. Sharper than the average ‘accessory’. Like they’re… meant to be dangerous.

She doesn’t say anything about it though. Gargoyle, Vampire, whatever other creature, she would never ask them what their ‘type’ is. For adults with such peculiarities, it’s just not common to do so. Not to mention she’s the Principal of Nevermore Academy - and must set a good example.

…Even though there are no children present… and she is morbidly curious.

Doesn’t matter!

Nope. Not at all.

The beauty, the aura, the mystique of the woman before her will just have to remain a mystery. Even if Larissa has never seen a creature so sublime. With that silky dark hair… and those finely arched brows… and those red lips… and that soft jaw that can become oh so sharp with just a small tense of the muscles… and that nose… and those lashes… and those eyes. They swallow her whole. If she thinks she herself is intimidating, she’s wrong. Because Alcina Dimitrescu is waist-deep in the very meaning. With her sharp, easy languid smile. And her matured laugh lines. And her deep chuckles. And her stature. Broad-shouldered, muscular, with a very curvaceous and blessed figure, soft belly, and long legs. Long legs. Long fucking legs.

When she opened the door, Larissa nearly fainted.

Students and adults alike have a difficult enough job meeting her eyes. A woman standing at 6’3”, about 6’4” in kitten heels, is a thing to marvel at in the outcast and normie worlds. But the implications and awe of it all just astounds her. There are plenty of tall women in existence! Alcina Dimitrescu being one of them. Standing at 6’9”. Probably taller in the stilettos she’s wearing. 6 entire inches between them. She’s never met someone so… big. She had to control her reaction immediately, lest she be forever viewed as one of those people that can’t help but ogle. And how embarrassing that would be.

Even though there’s. Six. Inches. In. Difference.

It’s like they’re on opposite sides of the spectrum. Larissa is tall, but modest about it. She wears a low heel, she gives herself an everyday any-event style of makeup, she wears a light floral perfume, she keeps her hair short and pinned up, she stays neat and she wears work-appropriate dresses and she is still perfectly fashion forward. But ‘Ms. Dimitrescu’ is a different story. Is a bold story. Is an intoxicating story. She wears a high heel, and gives herself dark eyes, accentuates the god-given lashes, paints her lips blood red; and she wears a smoky roll-on scent that smells like spice and jasmine and white musk, and she keeps her short dark hair pulled into a tight 1950’s messy pin-curl kind of look, and she stays perfect while wearing tight grey button downs tucked into high waisted slacks. A feminine type of power suit that isn’t a power suit at all but still commands a room simply because she was just born that way.

It’s infuriatingly distracting.

Larissa has to look down at her lap so she can conjure up a proper response for the woman in front of her - who is still staring.

I think she has a habit, the Principal thinks to herself.

“As am I,” she coughs out, despising the telling husk to her words. “We are always looking for new outcasts at Nevermore. It helps us grow as a school, as a population, as a place of freedom and excitement. Do you know the estimated time of your daughters’ stay?” It wasn’t settled upon before - and Larissa needs something to distract her from the small appreciative sips Ms. Dimitrescu takes from her wine.

“That’s a very good question, Principal,” and a playful tinge slips into that naturally gorgeous expression, “Can they stay with you forever? Lord knows Mother needs a break.” And then she winks, and her red lips part into a smile, and then she takes her eyes elsewhere while Larissa quickly shifts her skin from a burning pink back into the natural peachy pale.

All she can think to do is let out a forced laugh paired with (what she hopes is) a smooth smile.

“As much as I wish they could,” Larissa breathes and puts her hands from her lap back onto the surface of the desk, “that is unfortunately unrealistic. Certain students do have that opportunity, yes, but we always encourage the young ones to get out a bit and see the world. It’s scary at first, but we also tell them that Nevermore will always be here. Should they want to come back, of course.” Is she rambling? Maybe. But her company doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems quite interested. Very interested.

Staring into her bloody soul like she’s been doing since day one. Larissa’s half tempted to ask her if there’s something wrong, but she figures it’s just the way the woman is. Intense.

“I see. Well. I suppose for now, the girls will stay for the standard four years - and if there’s more to discuss down the line, we will simply cross that bridge when we come to it. Does that sound amenable to you, Principal?” Ms. Dimitrescu tilts her head, still carrying an air of arrogant amusement as she strings Larissa along.

“It sounds perfect, yes,” and if her voice dips a little in the middle of her sentence then so what?

Ms. Dimitrescu seems to enjoy it as a slow grin spreads across her cheeks. Deepening her beautiful laugh lines while she smiles with all teeth. It’s nearly embarrassing how quickly Larissa’s eyes snap to the large canines. She’s explored vampiric anatomy before - in her Nevermore days - but this is something different. This woman doesn’t seem like anything she’s seen before, and only a person with an inquisitive mind can’t help but desire more. More like a feel, maybe. Like a touch. The brush of one finger pad along the very sharp tip of one tooth. Or the flick of a sensitive tongue. Or the feeling of them skating along her neck. Or-

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

Larissa blinks.

What?

Before she can say anything, and disagree, and tell her she most certainly does mind, the woman somehow already has a quellazaire tucked between her fingers. The wine glass now sits on the desk, on a coaster, and the lit end of a cigarette is already sparkling with the glow of burning embers. It’s brought up to red lips. Pressed and held. Then taken away while the taller woman slowly tips her head back and releases a deep chest-shaking groan. The smoke curls into the air like fingers around a woman’s waist, and Larissa is utterly speechless.

“I- uh-”

That beautiful head lifts itself, and she quickly notices the challenge weaseling around through the other woman’s gaze. A veil of smoke now separates them. But that doesn’t stop her from sniffing and licking her lips and adjusting herself in her seat - right before she sets down the law.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t do that Ms. Dimitrescu. This is still a public building, a school no less, and we want to set a good example for the students.” She silently congratulates herself on her courage. Right before it’s tugged away.

“Oh?” The other woman straightens up, her back arching in a way that makes Larissa wish she could skate her fingers along the beautiful curve it makes. “I wasn’t aware there were students present. Are you somehow able to see things I’m not, Principal Weems?”

It’s a small shot of playful mockery that makes her heart rate speed up- and for a second there she thinks she sees grey eyes shooting down to her chest, like she can hear the change in rhythm, before quickly meeting her gaze again.

Larissa plasters on her most obviously placating smile while she tilts her head. If there’s one thing that pisses her off, it’s a blatant disregard for respect. Alcina Dimitrescu may be older, and more prestigious, but this is Larissa Weems’s turf. One must bow to the king they visit.

“No, Ms. Dimitrescu, unfortunately I haven’t been gifted with that particular ability,” she speaks as clearly as she can, letting the passive aggression in her words flow out from behind smiling white teeth. “But I do know that I’m not fond of inhaling second-hand smoke. And should a student walk in at this hour, I can’t imagine they’d appreciate the assault on the senses either.” Her eyebrows quirk up, silently daring the woman to fight back. Just see what happens.

But her show of authority doesn’t anger Ms. Dimitrescu in the way she thought it would. It, instead, just makes her red lips twitch while she takes her second and last inhale - before taking the cigarette out of its long holder and… burning it. Twisting it to ash. On the sensitive skin of her hand. Between the knuckles of her index and middle fingers. Creating a slow circle. Smushing it to a weird tobacco-y pulp.

Larissa’s lips part in shock.

When the ruined cigarette is pulled away, not even a mark is left. Just a small smudge of ash that Ms. Dimitrescu wipes off with her thumb.

So certainly not human. And not a Gargoyle. And not a Vampire.

She swallows, unable to speak a single word while the woman puts her quellazaire away and stands up to her full height - towering over the desk for a moment - before she’s turning around and strutting over to the fireplace. Her hips sway as she goes, and her hair bounces lightly against the base of her neck, and the mixed smell of her spiced perfume and cigarette smoke floats into Larissa’s eager lungs and honestly, she wants nothing more than to trail after her and put her hands on those strong shoulders and push her onto the sofa and demand that this woman tell her who she thinks she is. Walking around her office as if she owns the place. Pouring hubris and carrying the kind of confidence only a rich woman can have… Like Larissa isn’t doing her a favor. Like Larissa didn’t have to bargain with the board to allow the Dimitrescu children into Nevermore. Homeschooled girls with the kind of peculiarities that can only stem from faraway villages; rough in their play and sharp in their minds. Just like their mother. Whose wine every single board member drinks.

Whose wine Larissa drinks.

But that’s also something she won’t tell her.

The wine in Ms. Dimitrescu’s glass, anyway, is one Larissa had to pull out from her own liquor cabinet; after she offered a drink to the other woman, thinking she knew she meant water or sparkling cider. But she didn’t. Or she didn’t care. And once she put the bottle and the crystal glass on the desk, she instantly took the initiative and poured herself a wonderfully hefty helping of a young Zinfandel. To a regular person, that amount of wine had in such a short period of time (their session is supposed to be 45 minutes but Larissa knows it’s run over) would definitely leave them drunk without any preamble. Of course, Ms. Dimitrescu is something distinctly inhuman, and her figure is probably quite heavy with all of that muscle… and curves… and the way her belly pushes against the waistband of her slacks ever ever so slightly… and she may have eaten earlier in the day and-

Why on Earth am I thinking about this?

Larissa has to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

A confident, slightly egotistical, insanely intelligent pretty woman steps into her office and drinks some of her wine and stares into her very being and suddenly she’s unable to control herself? She lived with Morticia Addams for nearly four years! Whatever training and self-discipline she gained from that experience has just flown out the window in the face of- of- of whatever the fuck Alcina Dimitrescu is?! No. Nonsense. Unacceptable. Her professionalism still remains. The woman can push the boundaries, but she cannot take Larissa’s dignity and jurisdiction. Even if she looks unnaturally attractive standing by the fire and lazily throwing her cigarette away into the flames.

Even if her eyes, for just a moment, flash a violent gold.

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When worlds collide !! I may do other parts of this; or little one-shots with this pairing. So let me know what you think? Thank you, darlings. - Rip x

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Tags (Keep in mind Tumblr doesn't let me tag certain accounts): @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @bellatrixsbrat @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @hasthebaconinhispants @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @hopelessly-sapphic @barbarasstar @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @h-doodles @zillahofviolets-bayolet @weemssapphic @the-bearr @amateurwritescm

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #wlw fanfic #wednesday larissa weems #larissa weems wednesday #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #re8 lady d #lady dimitrescu #larissa weems x alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x larissa weems #lady d x larissa weems #muehehehehehehehe #flirty fanfic #gay fanfiction

[theyanderespecialist]

A Forced Blushing Bride 1 (Scenario) Yandere Lady Dimitrescu X Female Reader

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter! This one with Yandere Lady Dimitrescu x female reader forced marriage! So I wish you good luck!]

(Disclaimer: Lady Dimitrescu is not yandere in canon, and this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously. Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine. Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have! But I would still give my soul to Lady D!]

(Enjoy this!)

(Forced Marriage) (Lady Dimitrescu)

(Name's POV)

I stare at Mother Miranda in horror. She had just told me I had been called to marry one of the four lords.

"I am sorry, Mother," I say. "But I cannot do that..."

"You do not have a choice, my child. You are to be a gift. You will do as told and marry Lady Dimitrescu." She orders me.

I want to run, and I need to run. I move quickly, only to run face-first into Lady Dimitrescu! Actually, I was almost face-first in her crotch!

"Ah, There is my blushing bride." Lady Dimitrescu says. "You are not trying to be a runaway bride, we're you, my dear?"

I look up at her, craning my neck to see her. "I can't marry you."

She takes her chin in my hand. "I am sorry, my dear, but you do not have a choice in the matter. You will be my wife and mine alone. Am I clear?"

Lady dimitrescu is not playing around. I do not want to do this, but I do not have a choice. I nod my head, and she smirks.

"Good girl, now let's get you home. We have much to plan for the ceremony. Then you will be mine, and I will keep you by my side forever." Lady Dimitrescu says and takes my hand.

She leads me into the castle, her daughters nowhere in sight. The maids come up frightened.

"See to my fiancé, do not dare try and sway her from me. Or it will be to the dungeon with you." Lady Dimitrescu orders them, and I am led to take a bath.

The finest of oils and soaps. A strange purple mixture in the tub.

"What is this?" I ask.

"It is a special mixture to make you pure from any man who ever has laid a hand on you." One of the women tells me.

I do not think it just does that, as my skin tingles. They wash me and take me to dry. Putting a nightgown on my body. They then leave me in my room, and I go to escape, but of course, the door is locked. I let out a scream yanking at my hair! This cannot be happening! I will not marry Lady Dimitrescu!

(Lady Dimitrescu's POV)

I smirk as I tell my girls about the soon-to-be mother. They are happy for me, telling me she will be good for me! Soon she will be my wife and the baths she will have. They will make her immortal. Then she will never be able to leave me! She will be mine for all eternity!

My Blushing Bride.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and yes, this is only part one! There will be at least one more part! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

#yandere #yandere lady dimitrescu #yandere alcina dimitrescu #yandere resident evil #yandere resident evil village #yandere resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #scenario #part one #forced blushing bride #forced blushing bride part 1 #reader #female reader

[thewritersaddictions]

House Dimitrescu: Lady Dimitrescu- My Fair Lady

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: fem!Reader x fem!Reader, fluff, confusion, The Dimitrescu Daughters, Sweet Alcina Dimitrescu.

Summary: When Alcina meets you she can't help but fall head over for you it might just help with your issues.

WC- 1.4K

A/n: firefly-graphics for dividers

Resident Evil 8 Master List // House Dimitrescu Master List

Alcina couldn’t help but get upset by the loud commotion going on outside the castle walls. Something was bothering them or rather intriguing the towns people. Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela weren’t bothered by the noises as they crept their ways away from their mother to go sneak food from the kitchen.  

The lady Dimitrescu was more than intrigued when she finally did venture outside the castle walls. The townspeople had gathered around a gold carriage. The laughs and giggles of towns folk soon erupted and became a whole harmonized sound that echoed in the small village that was in the mountains. Alcina arched a brow and wondered what could have possibly grabbed the attention of these poor and dank old people.  

A gold carriage was a good start, they hadn’t seen anything that nice or pretty for a long time. Now if that was Alcina doing or not she would never confess, her thoughts were stopped though when she what had everyone under a spell in the village.  

A beautiful girl had made her way to the center of the village. Near the sword wielding women, she stood with such grace and it look as though she was already admired by all who lived here. Well at least all that lived in the village homes. Alcina had made her way down into the crowd, and if we’re honest it’s hard to miss the 9-foot-tall women wearing white come walking around.  

I saw her from the corner of my eye, the white of her. The towns people whose attention I still had must have no noticed her yet as she circled us like vultures. I tried my hardest to gather strength and continued on why my conversation, but that was soon taken from me.  Scared eyes lighting up with fear, and all I could hear way the running footsteps of them. Suddenly there I was alone with the tall women in white.  

“You’re new to our small village.” The women say, her voice comes out like smooth wine and it’s got this cute accent behind every syllable she speaks. “Yes, I’m only here for a short moment.” I said taking in a deep breath as I have to arch my neck in a way, I’ve never had to speak with someone. “Might I ask why you’re visiting our quaint village?” The tall women asked her gaze falling down. I shallowed my panic, not that I had anything to be panicked about.  

“I’m here to see or rather talk with the lady of that castle.” I spoke, pointing towards the large castle doors. The same ones that the tall women had only just walked through before starting this very interesting conversation. “What’s your name my fair lady?” The massive women asked. I stumbled over my words, my name.. my name is y/n. . She smirked, and kneeled ever so slightly. She’d never be the same height as the young princess standing in front of her, but she tired. “So, do you know the name of said Lady?” The tall women asked me her eyes scanning my face. Light brown eyes making my skin crawling in a new and odd way.  

“A lady Dimitrescu.” I said shortly, wondering where this massive women was going with her series of questions. “Hmm, She truly is a grand women that Lady Dimitrescu.” She smirked and started to walk off. Where was she going to, and why drop all those cryptic questions. I pulled the hem of my dress so I didn’t scrap against the dirty ground as I chased after her the best I could. I heard as I chased after her her laugh the tall women that I was chasing was leading me straight towards the castle.  

“I never got to ask, but who are you?” I finally asked, she turned large hips stopping in their sway. A large smirk had became what look liked a permanent feature on her beautiful face. The more I looked into her eyes, the more I fell for the beautifully tall women that was standing in white in front of me.  

“Well if you must know dearie, Im Lady Alcina Dimitrescu.” I swear my mouth dropped and reached the ground before I was able to speak she turned and laughed before walking again towards the massive doors. They open on demand with just a wave of her and I followed closely behind her. Not bothering with the dirt that was starting to gather in the bottom of my dress. “Aw puppy you sure you want into this castle my dearie?” She asked her question brought fears, but something about her pet names brightened the very dark street I was treading on.  

“So dearie what is it that you were here for?” Dimitrescu asks as she settles into a dark and iron smelling room. I gather my bearing looking around. “I… I don’t know anymore. I wasn’t even sure that I would get an audience with you. I don’t have much prepared I’m sorry Lady Dimitrescu.” I rambled on my eyes not dare looking even towards her direction. “Oh sweetie. Come, sit.” She said out reached her large leathered covered hand. I gulped back the fear and terror placing my much small hand in hers. Her cheeks if ever so glimmered with a rare shade of pink and red, something against her pale skin and cold touch brought a new and different look towards her.  

I let Dimitrescu guide me. “When it’s just the two of us you may call me Alcina. “ she said, and in one moment I was resting in her lap. As if I had weighed nothing to her she had lifted me and placed me down. “And why only when we are alone? I asked. For the first time being so close to her. Her features up close did no justice for the far off rumors I had all my childhood. Of course before Alcina was able to answer the strange and horrible shrieking sounds came through the castle walls. My alarmed sat must have set something off in Lady Dimitrescu, her grip on my waist tightened and she whispered into my ear, “Be calm dearie.”  

Then like magic flies came out of nowhere and three daughters were in-front of the two of us. “MOTHER!!” The blonde daughter yelled, her face contorted in an instant, but then another daughter popped up, “Mother! Whatever Bela said is a true lie.” But even her eyes seem to cut through me like glass. Finally the last one turns up, “Mommy, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”  

“Daughters control yourself, I have a very special guest.” She said her words coming out silky smooth. “Who is that?” The three daughters said in a prefect unison. The pregnant pause was grand in the small bedroom that Alcina had taken me into. “Lady Y/n, please let me introduce you to my three daughters. Daniela, Bela, and Cassandra.” Each daughter stepping forward bowing and then stepping back.  

“Now go run off daughters Lady Y/n and I have some things to discuss.” Alcina said her daughter yet again in a flutter off smoke and flies disappeared. I hadn’t realized just tall I had become by sitting in Lady Dimitrescu. It was never my intention to grab the lady of the house’s attention but maybe I could use it to my advantage. “Now dearie. Business, what did you want to discuss with me?” There was a tinkering light behind Alcina eyes. Maybe what I wanted would come so hard if I just played my cards right and let the great Alcina Dimitrescu fall head over heels for me. I smirked and “I need your help… my village the next one over is in desperate need and I traveled here all my my lonesome to ask for your help.” I rambled on. Pleading eyes and soft words. Her expression softened and she smile the most pure smile I had seen in years. “Absolutely, under a condition. You’re to stay with me. I think you’ll do well here with me and my daughters isn’t the right sweetie.” Alcina said.  

I smiled and hugged her tight her large breast causing a great cushion between her and me. Hook line and sinker I had grabbed Lady Dimitrescu and hadn’t even meant that. Head over heels for me and anything I asked as long as I stayed, I’d do anything for my village even if I stayed with the big bad white wolf of the mountains.  

Posted on: 11/12/22

Completed on: 11/11/22

House Dimitrescu-

#house dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #castle dimitrescu #resident evil dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu imagine #lady dimitrescu x princess #resident evil village #resi 8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil #alcina x female reader #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina demitriscu #alcina x y/n #alcina x reader #alcina x fem!Reader #fem reader #female reader #fluff #leasbians #leasbians lovers #resi evil village x reader

[11queensupreme11]

Hellooo it's mee again I would likee to askk

What is the height of the females in arsenic blues ?

Like Hera, Rhea, Hestia, persephone, Demeter

I'm sorry for the bother 😭

but I would just like to see how little percy really is to these Gods 👀

hmmmmmmm i never actually thought about their heights, so imma make it up rn lmao

i DO remember that i vaguely alluded to rhea's height back in the chapter where she was introduced, and looking back at it, i saw that i put her as "nearing nine feet or so"

so for rhea, I'd say exactly 9'6" SOLELY BECAUSE THAT'S LADY DIMITRESCU'S HEIGHT LMAO (i know i said she was "nearing nine feet" in the chapter, but thats percy's POV so lets just say she sucks at visual estimates 😅)

and since hestia's the eldest child, imma say she's 7'0"

demeter: 6'7"

hera: 6'5"

persephone: 6'0"

here's a height comparison thingy i found:

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

[lovelypeasantjellyfish]

The one time Lady Dimitrescu almost kills you and the one time she almost apologises

A/N: I took a day off work to catch up on sleep and finally fold the pile of laundry on the chair™, but that did not happen and I ended up finishing this fic which I started 7 months ago instead, and adding some steam because I am touch-starved and still think about Lady D. So… Enjoy!

Pairing: Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: You had hoped that the two-day visit with Lady Beneviento to Castle Dimitrescu would be uneventful, but of course a game of hide and seek would end with a certain Lady almost choking you to death.

Warnings/Tags: Choking (not the fun kind), Almost strangulation, No use of y/n, POV Second Person, Angie calls you toots, Dramatic!Alcina, Brave/Stubborn Reader, light touching, Almost Kiss, Happy Ending, Not Beta Read, Attempt at Humor

Words: 3,001   AO3 Link

Since you arrived with Lady Beneviento and Miss Angie at Castle Dimitrescu earlier this morning, your day had been rather uneventful. Sure, you had met Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters for the first time, but they were civil, mostly ignoring you as you stood silently behind your Lady or assisted her during the fitting session for a few dresses Lady Dimitrescu had commissioned, and your earlier hopes that this two-day visit would be, for the lack of a better word, boring, seemed to becoming true.

That was, until Miss Angie grew bored and decided a game of hide-and-seek would be more fun, not that you could blame her; many an hour had gone by spent in the same makeshift studio (from what you could tell, it was a drawing room lined with a few standing mirrors) and your Lady was doing the fitting for the Dimitrescu daughters now.

Since there was no need for her to be standing on a stepladder, she didn’t need your help passing her pins and pencils, only nodding when Angie practically dragged you out of the room and yelled at you to start counting as she sprinted down a hallway and disappeared.

That was nearly an hour ago, and you still hadn’t found her.

“Miss Angie!” you call out, looking down one of the numerous winding hallways. “Please, Miss Angie, Lady Beneviento is going to be upset.”

Silence. Great.

You sigh, turning down another corridor; closed doors on white panelled walls greet you as you listen for the tell-tale laughter and taunts; hide-and-seek with Angie in the Beneviento Mansion was hard enough with all the dolls to blend in with but in the huge Castle Dimitrescu? The game was impossible, and you would never forgive yourself if anything happened to your Lady’s beloved companion.

An end table next to a set of double doors catches your attention, the flowing tablecloth the same shade as Angie’s dress. You bend, reaching to push the fabric aside when something lifts you by your neck, your feet dangling above the wooden floor. A surprised squeak erupts from your throat, although it quickly turns into panicked gasps as the large hand around your throat begins to squeeze. Your hands fly up, hurriedly tapping on the black gloves.

Furious golden eyes bore into yours as Lady Dimitrescu stares, her gaze briefly flicking to the black veil that covered your hair and face, a symbol of sorrow reflecting your Lady’s circumstances, but was now also further restricting your ability to breathe.

“You. Explain,” she spits through gritted teeth.

You try to get the words out, explain that you were playing a game and that you meant no harm, but her fingers were leaving bruises and your chest burned.

A choked-out ‘Angie’ barely leaves your lips when the sound of something crashing catches her attention instead, and her grip on you loosens slightly.

“Of course,” she groans, releasing you none too gently, “the doll.”

You fall to the ground with a soft thud, moving the veil away from your face and gasping as you tried to get as much air as possible into your starved lungs.

Sweet Mother Miranda, you almost died. She almost choked you to death with just one hand. Could she do that? Were all the stories true? If she hadn’t gotten distracted, would you have become just another whispered figure passed between the lips of villagers?

You squeeze your eyes close, taking deep breaths to calm your racing mind.

Heels click and echo somewhere down the hallway, and a door opens somewhere else. You don't pay much mind to the sounds, only looking up when a familiar voice squeals your name.

“Toots! You lost! You didn’t find me!” Angie shrieks, running and crashing into you with enough force that you almost fall over.

You chuckle lightly, “Yes, Miss Angie, I lost,” catching her as she all but leaps onto your lap.

She gasps, noticing your uncovered face and the already discolouring skin on your neck, her small wooden hands bustle around, poking and prodding. “Who did this?” she asks, looking as concerned as a wooden doll could.

Luckily for you, your almost-murderer chooses that moment to appear through one of the doors, bent at the waist with a gloved hand holding her large hat in place, and you are spared the task of having to explain that you were almost killed by the most feared of the Four Lords.

“There was a misunderstanding,” Lady Dimitrescu states simply, rising to her full height and making her way towards where you were still seated on the floor.

Was that what it was?

Angie was having none of it.

“Giganotosaur?!” she screeches, flinging herself from your lap.

“Oh please, spare me that attitude. I should kill them for that vase you broke,” Lady Dimitrescu replies coolly, standing in front of you with a hand on her hips, a cigarette burning in its holder between the fingers of her other.

Angie retreats to you at that, whimpering.

You stand, cradling Angie with shaking arms. “I—I sincerely apologise for the broken vase, Lady Dimitrescu,” you say, not daring to look at her, opting to stare at the hem of her dress instead. Swallowing, you continue, “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

A pause.

Maybe you shouldn’t have offered that.

A large hand starts its course towards you.

You should not have offered that.

You close your eyes.

Angie shifts slightly in your arms, burying her face in your neck.

“Here.”

Your eyes open to that same large hand holding your dopped veil. You look up, a small scowl was present on her maroon lips, but there was no malice in the golden eyes staring down at you.

“Thank you, Lady Dimitrescu,” you say, accepting the black cloth with an outstretched hand.

“So you’re not going to kill ‘em, Giganotosaur?” Angie pipes up.

You grimace at the comment but Lady Dimitrescu appears unfazed. She straightens, turning her back on the both of you. “I will settle this with Donna.” Looking over her shoulder, she continues, “Well? Are you just going to stand there?”

You follow behind her as she leads you and Angie back to the make-shift studio, supporting Angie with one arm and draping your veil back to its original position, it was a little tricky doing it with only one hand, but you manage to cover everything it needed to: your hair, face, and enough of your neck.

The walk is conducted in silence, neither Angie nor Lady Dimitrescu saying a word, with the latter occasionally exhaling smoke as she walked in front of you.

Just like a dragon, you think.

Once the entrance of the drawing room comes into view, Angie jumps out of your arms, scurrying past Lady Dimitrescu and straight into the room.

Lady Dimitrescu pauses outside the doorway, gesturing for you to enter first, and you do. The Dimitrescu daughters were nowhere to be seen, and Lady Beneviento was sitting in one of the armchairs with Angie in her lap. A familiar sight that immediately puts you at ease.

“They broke a vase,” Lady Dimitrescu announces as she enters behind you, smoke leaving her lips with the words.

“Yeah, but Giganotosaur almost killed ‘em, so I think we’re even,” Angie huffs under her breath.

Well, a life for a vase wasn’t exactly what you would call fair or even, but you keep your mouth shut and start picking up the stray pins from the floor.

“Alcina…” Lady Beneviento scolds quietly, her voice drawling and raspy. Her words are ignored by the Lady in question, who makes a beeline for the large chaise lounge in the corner of the room.

The countess sits elegantly, cigarette holder delicately balanced between her fingers as she takes another puff. “You, leave us.”

You look to Lady Beneviento at her words, not missing the scowl on Lady Dimitrescu’s lips when you don’t immediately rid yourself from the room on her orders.

A nod from your Lady and you deposit the pins in your hand into their container on the desk before leaving the room.

---

It is only a few hours when you next see Lady Dimitrescu, or, rather, when the countess almost gives you a heart attack.

An unexpected perk of being a ‘guest’ in castle Dimitrescu was that you were given a room next to your Lady, meaning you had your own bathroom. This, however, also meant that once you had made sure your Lady had gotten settled for the night, you retreated to your own room to wash off the day.

So now, clad in only a towel in front of the one Lord who had almost squeezed the life out of you a few hours prior, you stand with your back against the door, a hand clamped over your mouth as if it could somehow take back the noticeably embarrassing squeak and trap it there.

Lady Dimitrescu stares back at you, an eyebrow arched as she takes in the sight before her. She doesn’t comment on the sound that ripped itself from your throat when you first saw all nine feet six inches of her standing by the fireplace. She knows that the orange glow from the burning embers coupled with her above-average height made for a terrifying sight, but if Donna was going to make her apologise for that incident earlier, then by the gods, she was going to do it on her own terms.

In a blood-red dress.

And four-inch heels.

Standing by a fireplace that she lit by dragging in an unfortunate maid and ordering them to do it.

Just as the storm clouds and flashes of lightning predicted by the radio forecast started to roll in.

Was it a little over the top? Maybe, but the way your eyes widened and your heart started to race was worth it.

Especially if it meant that she got a little show.

She hadn't timed her apology to coincide with the end of your shower, truly. But if the grin slowly creeping on her face were any indication, the countess was not at all objecting to the sight before her, although it might also have something to do with that delightful melody of your beating heart.

A moment passes, maybe two, with the both of you just staring at each other.

Water from your wet hair drips onto your shoulder, the sound somehow overpowering the thudding in your ears and allowing bravery to seep into your skin.

Clutching the sole piece of fabric preserving your modesty tighter around your body with both hands, “Is there anything I can help you with, Lady Dimitrescu?” you ask, maintaining eye contact with the countess. Lady Beneviento was right next door, and asleep or not, she would definitely know if something were to happen to you and interfere, Angie would, at the very least. That meant Lady Dimitrescu wouldn’t harm you, not at the moment anyway. The thought brings a little relief, and you stand straighter, staring down at the countess the best you could with your head craned upwards.

“Well, well, well, look who’s recovered their courage. No more squeaking, little mouse?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, a grin ever-present on her red lips.

You flush at her comment, gritting your teeth lightly. The sounds you made today were not ones that you were proud of, that was for sure, but hearing her tease you like that brought a flame to your chest. Was it plain embarrassment? Anger? Something else? You weren’t quite sure.

“If there is nothing I can help you with, Lady Dimitrescu, I would like to get dressed,” you say tersely, taking a step towards her, to the fireplace, where the trunk with your clothes was sitting next to the door.

With you closer to the sole source of light in the room, Alcina could see the dance of light reflected on your wet skin. Her eyes trace downwards, from your face, to your chest, over the towel, all the way to the beads of water trailing down your legs.

The heat from the fireplace fills the room, and Lady Dimitrescu swallows, finding little relief for her suddenly dry mouth. Still, she refuses to move an inch from her spot next to the fireplace, standing tall between you and your clothes.

Similarly, you refused to demur, placing one foot in front of the other with your head held high like your heart wasn’t pounding in your chest.

Lady Dimitrescu watches as you bend over to open the trunk, not averting her gaze when your towel hikes up more than you were aware of. You clutch the cotton fabric in your hand, debating your choices. It would be impossible and unbelievably ungraceful if you tried to tug the nightgown over your head and somehow keep the towel around your body in place.

Retreating to the bathroom to change would mean conceding defeat, something that you were sure she would take immense pride in, and you weren’t about to give her that satisfaction.

On the other hand, standing bare in front of her, even if it was just to change into your night clothes… Well… You weren’t quite sure how to feel about that. The numerous statues and paintings of naked and scantily clad women that lined the halls told you something of Lady Dimitrescu’s taste. And, if the sudden ache between your legs was any indication, you and Lady Dimitrescu had similar tastes.

You swallow, looking up at her, about to ask her if she was going to stay, when she takes a step closer to you, causing you to be pressed against the door.

“Anything, right?” She asks with a low growl, bending at the waist to meet your gaze.

You gasp softly as she taps on one of the bruises with a finger. Your eyes must have widened as her grin deepens.

She taps the bruise again, but lighter this time. “Your offer?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You did offer that, there was no taking it back now, and in this moment, with Lady Dimitrescu all but a hair’s width away from you, the hungry look in her golden eyes amplified by the blaze in the fireplace, you were sure that you did not want to.

She smiles wider, all teeth and desire, as her gloved finger explores your neck. The large leather appendage trails past your throat, and down.

She pauses at your collarbone, tracing her finger along the length of it.

And down it goes.

You let out a shaky breath.

Even lower now.

Your breath hitches when she hooks the towel with her finger and tugs, the warm leather brushing the valley between your breasts. Her other hand finds your chin, tilting your face towards hers, her warm breath on your lips, the woody remnants of her cigarette from earlier ghosting your skin.

She gets closer and closer, the maroon pigment clinging to her lips becoming an object of your envy. Your eyes start to close on instinct, and you stand on your tiptoes, desperate to get closer.

Her lips brush yours, the faintest of touches, she tugs the towel again, the grip on your chin tightening, her half-lidded eyes getting closer again, and…

Someone pounds on the wooden door behind you, sending another squeak tumbling from your lips and making you jump. Lady Dimitrescu lets you go, standing tall once more with a tsk. She somewhat gently shoves you out of the way and flings the door open, looking as if she would rip whoever who was on the other side to shreds.

The door bounces on its hinges and you stumble, catching yourself on the wall, a pout almost on your lips when a small blur of white races through the door.

Angie scampers past the glowering Lady Dimitrescu and straight to you, bouncing up and down. “Toots!” She screeches, “I can’t sleep! Let’s play!”

Glancing at Lady Dimitrescu, you find her almost murderous, her jaw set tight and fists clenched. To her credit, she didn’t yell or rip the doorknob off at the interruption, although the way she glared at Angie could have set fire to her wooden features, if the doll weren’t so preoccupied with tugging at your hand and asking you to play to notice her.

“Well then—” The countess begins, only to be cut off once more.

“Giganotosaur!” Angie exclaims, finally having noticed her. “What are you doing in here?”

You flush at the question, tugging your towel closer to your chest with your free hand. If Angie hadn’t interrupted, what would have happened? Would Lady Dimitrescu go all the way? Until the bruises weren’t just on your neck, but somewhere lower, somewhere more… sensitive, decorated with maroon lipstick?

The room becomes a little too warm for comfort at that thought.

Lady Dimitrescu pinches the bridge of her nose, narrowing her eyes at the doll once more. “I thought it fit to apologise for the incident from earlier.” Her tone was cool, as if you and she had really just been talking. But the tensing in her jaw told a different story.

You blink, if that was Lady Dimitrescu’s apology, you think, you didn’t not accept it, even if it was interrupted.

“But since we were so rudely disrupted, we will continue this conversation tomorrow morning,” she huffs. Her eye catches yours as she bends to exit the room, and your heart leaps. Tomorrow, she wants to see you tomorrow.

You smile at her as she leaves, acutely aware that your cheeks were warm.

Angie tugs at your hand again, “C’mon Toots! Play with me!”

“Alright, Miss Angie, we can play one game and then we’ll have to go to bed after that, okay?”

---

When you woke up the next morning, there was a tin of yellow salve on the nightstand. You unfold the piece of paper tucked underneath it and smile at the large but neat cursive: For the bruising. You’ll need it. Eleven sharp, my office.

#Lady Dimitrescu x Reader #Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader #Resident Evil 8

[milkiedimitrescu]

so I'm just thinking about Alcina running on all fours like a damn cheetah and M3GAN in that one scene—

Imagine if shes feeling goofy she decides to spice it up a bit and chase her prey on all fours 💀

POV: your ethan winters and you see lady dimitrescu chasing you like this

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 alcina #lady alcina dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #re8 #alcina demitriscu #Yeah im terrified thinking about it.

[welcomehomerandomness]

Welcome Home Randomness Masterlist 1

If Welcome Home characters have Squishmallows

This user loves Welcome Home characters

I do not have an original personality. I stole it from Welcome Home characters.

Welcome Home characters but I give them Genshin Impact voices parts 1 2

A rainy day with the butterfly expert, the mailman, and the shopkeeper

Welcome Home characters as Project Sekai songs

Welcome Home is therapy

Frank is not nobody's housewife

POV: Wally is introducing you to his neighbors.

Wally tells the truth

Top 10 Welcome Home Villains

Welcome Home Character Aesthetic Collages

If Welcome Home characters have houses and cars in the real world

Sunny looks familiar...

Wally Darling be like:

Frank, Eddie, and Howdy Appreciation Edit

Welcome Home characters as hilarious paint shade names

Lady Dimitrescu and Wally Darling have a chat

Wally Darling and his gay boyfriends go on a road trip

Welcome Home characters as scientific diagrams and textbook images that look like memes

POV: You're watching a Welcome Home character's Instagram stories: Wally, Barnaby, Julie, Frank, Eddie, Howdy, Sally, Poppy

Things to do with your friends this summer

The most shocking thing ever

Dances to get rid of creepy dudes on the dance floor

Welcome Home characters as IKEA items

Welcome Home slander

Wally's audition

Welcome Home characters as Florida man news headlines

Silly and goofy puppet content parts 1 2 3

Welcome Home Website Prediction Post (July 22, 2023 Update)

Welcome Home Website (7/22/2023 Update) Bingo Card

Welcome Home Website Update Reaction Notes (7/22/2023) (SPOILERS) Parts 1 2

Welcome Home characters but I made them into cursed inspirational quotes

[SPOILERS] Welcome Home catchphrases but I played them at the same time

[SPOILERS] Nostalgic Reminiscence

Give the Welcome Home characters faces

[SPOILERS] “It’s-For-You!” Telephone calls but I played them at the same time

[SPOILERS] Welcome Home mystery audios but I played them at the same time

[SPOILERS] Welcome Home answer videos but I played them at the same time

(Un)helpful guide/infodump to Welcome Home

[SPOILERS] "Eddie's Big Lift" Storybook Record but every time Eddie speaks, it gets faster

Welcome Home characters as Ensemble Stars songs

All About Me (Welcome Home Edition)

[SPOILERS] “Just So” Song Demo but Frank is gone

Welcome Home characters but they have Wally's face (TW: Cursed)

Why you should get into Welcome Home

[SPOILERS] Live Interview Audio Segment but the interviewer and the audience are gone

Welcome Home Canon Deaths (TW: Emotional 😭)

[SPOILERS] Wally’s secret audios but I sped them up and added the vine boom sound effect

My Welcome Home Theory (Hear me out…)

10 Canon Facts about Every Single Welcome Home Character You Totally Didn’t Know About

Random Frank, Eddie, and Howdy Fact

POV: Wally explaining to the neighbors what being controlled feels like

Welcome Home Babies

Wally finally brushes his hair

Welcome Home characters as fairy comments

Welcome Home Live Action Cast Reveal

The Neighborhood Powerpoint Night

A Welcome Home website secret has been discovered!

Who ate all the food

Welcome Home characters as elements (educational)

Welcome Home characters as YouTubers

Welcome Home during quarantine

Kermit did not care 😭

Kung Welcome Home ay isang Filipino teleserye (If Welcome Home is a Filipino teleserye)

Welcome Home but everyone is living in an apartment

Welcome Home but the home is not welcomed Parts 1 2 3 4

My Top Nine Favorite Welcome Home Characters

The Official Wally Darling Makeship Plush Toy ad but I edited it (WARNING: Loud sounds and music)

Wo Xing Shi Trend: Wally and Barnaby; Frank, Eddie, and Howdy; Julie, Sally, and Poppy

Smurf Cat Wally Plush spotted!

Welcome Home characters as AI-generated inspirational quotes (SOURCE: SootHouse on YouTube)

Howdy's message in Makeship Wally Darling plush ad reversed

Welcome Home is better than Justin Bieber

Welcome Home as Jeaney Collects videos Parts 1 2

Ah hell nah they done turned Welcome Home characters into pronouns

Single Celled Organisms

The neighbors found out about AUs

Welcome Home Questions Game 2023

Wally, Barnaby, Julie, and Sally play Roblox at 3 am

Welcome Home characters as hilarious street names and addresses

Welcome Home Birth Month Game

Welcome Home Halloween 2023 Update Reaction (SPOILERS)

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #howdy pillar #sally starlet #poppy partridge #welcome home home

[marsthegaymer]

Promises

Mommy! Lady Dimitrescu x Little! Reader

Warning(s): Age regression, angst, yelling, fluff in the next part.

a/n: This will be in two parts. I had fun writing this and I hope you guys enjoy.

Summary:

What happens when Alcina runs out of promises?

Y/N’s pov

I wake up to a cold empty bed. Where’s my mommy? I pull off the covers and grab (your favorite stuffie). I hold them close to my chest as I go around looking for her. “Mommy” I call softly. I hear the padding of my feet as I walk down the long hallway. I per into one of the rooms. “Mommy? Are u in here” I ask but she’s not there. I eventually find her in her study. I walk up to her. “Mommy” I call her name. She looks up at me and smiles. “What are you doing up little one” she asks. “ I woke up an chu not dere” I say quietly. “Mommy has work I need to do” she sighs. “ I know mommy I just wan chu” I say. She sighs before getting up. “Come on little one. Back to bed” she says holding her hand out. I hold her hand and cling to her side. She walks me back to the room and lays me down. 

“Alright little one. No more getting up okay” she asks. “I jus wan chu sweeps wit me” I say. “I won’t go anywhere I’ll be here” mommy says. I cuddle into her and start drifting when she starts playing with my hair. I wake up in the morning to no mommy. I thought she was going to stay with me. I got up from the bed with my stuffie. I walk straight to her study and see her doing more work and I pout. I walk in and go straight up to her. “Hi mommy “ I say softly. “Not right now, I’m busy” she says going through papers. “But mommy, I hungy. An I wan chu” I say even softer. “Mommy’s really busy right now. Have the maids make you something. “Okay mommy. Can chu pway water” I ask her. “Yeah, whatever. Just let me work” she says.

I walk out and down the hallway. I walk into the kitchen. And she Bela messing with one of the maids. She turns her head to me and smiles. “Hey there little one” she says softly and flies over to me. “How’s my favorite little bug” she asks putting hair behind my ear. “Gud I jus hungy” I replied. “We’ll have to fix that yeah?” She says turning to the maid. “ chocolate pancakes and strawberries will do” she orders the maid. She turns to me and smiles. “ why don’t you hang out with mom” she asks. “She busy so I cant” I say a little quiet. “Oh sorry bug. I bet Dani can play” she suggests. I nod and turn around. I walk to Dani’s door. “Dani” I call softly. The door opens and Dani instantly smiles. “Hey there pup” she says sweetly. “Cans we pway “ I ask. “Of course! Come in” she exclaimed. 

After a while the maid comes in with the food. “Tank chu” I say loudly at the maid. “Of course” she says smiling. I eat all of it and continue playing before I start getting sleepy. “Hey, you sleepy little one” Dani asks. I nod as I rub my eyes. “Go tell mom, so she can put you down” she says. I walk back to the study and walk up to mommy. “ Mommy, I sweepy” I say yawning. “ okay, I’ll be there in a second” she says not looking up at me. I nod and walk into the room and plop down on the bed. I wait there for a while before I get up and go back to her. “Mommy” I ask. “Mommy pease I sweepy” I say. She sighs harshly before getting up and walking past me. I run to catch up with her. She gets me ready for a nap in a hurry. As soon as I am tucked in she heads for the door. “Mommy? I fought chu gon stay wit me” I ask. “Mommy has work to do. Mother Miranda Needs mommy to do something’s for her.” She replies. 

“Okie. Can we pway after I wakes up” I ask her and she nods before shutting the door. I lay down excited to play since she hasn’t for a while. I fall asleep pretty easily. I wake up a couple hours later and excitedly getting up. I go straight to the study. “Mommy!!! Are chu weady to pway” I say excitedly and jumping up and down.”not right now Y/N” she says. “But mommy you promised” I whine and keep asking her to play with me. “Y/N” she says firmly and I stop jumping. “I need you to stop coming in here. I said I was working do you not understand simple words” she says harshly. I feel tears pooling in my eyes. “Um…yeah” I was quietly. “Then why can you not listen to simple instructions and not bother me” she says raising her voice. “I-I’m sowwy mommy” I say almost at a whisper. “Excuse me “ she asks harshly. “I just said sowwy” I say with my lip quivering. “Do not have attitude with me “ she says grabbing my arm. She pulls me into the hallway and I fall on the floor crying. “Now leave me be” she says and slams the door. Tears are streaming down my face. Why was mommy being so mean? I knew I didn’t want to be around her. I wanted auntie Donna.

I run to the room sobbing. I grab one of my bags and put a stuffie and my favorite snack and sippy cup with water. I put my shoes and jacket on and walk out the door. I use a map I found to find Donna’s house. I get lost and Duke comes to my rescue. “Ah Y/N, what are you don’t out here all alone” he asks. “Mommy was be mean I wan see auntie Donna.  “ well she lives in that direction “ he says pointing to a gate. “Tank chu duke” I say walking the direction of the gate. “Anytime” he exclaims. I walk down a pathway through the forest. I hear something moving in the bushes. Scared, I start running and eventually get to auntie Donna’s house. I run up to the door and knock repeatedly with tears streaming down my face. The door opens and it’s Angie.

“Y/N! Have you come come to play? Where’s the tall one” she asks. “I ran away” I reply. She lets me in and I walk in the door. Donna comes down the stairs. “Y/N what are you doing here” she asks coming up to me. She notices my tears and rushes up to me. “What happened little one” she asks sweetly. “Mommy no wan pway! She keeps ignoring me and she yelled at me because I bother her” I explain sobbing. “Oh honey” she says hugging me. “Oh jeez, you’re freezing” she exclaims. “Come on little one let’s get you warm” she says softly. She wraps me in blankets on her couch and brings me hot chocolate. “There you go baby. All warm now” she says softly. “Can I has cuddles” I ask and she smiles. “Come here love” she says with her arms out. I climb into her arms and cuddle into her. After a bit I feel myself falling asleep. She strokes my hair to help me fall asleep and I eventually fall into a peaceful sleep.

#marswrites🎃 #agere community #agere caregiver #agere blog #sfw agere #age dreaming #age regressor #age regression #ageregression #sfw regression #agere #sfw littlespace #agere sfw #sfw little blog #little space #sfw little #sfw post #sfw interaction only #sfw caregiver #sfw little community #sfw only #fandom agere #mommy!alcina dimitrescu #mommy! alcina dimitrescu x reader #little reader #resident evil agere #lady dimitrescu #re8 village #donna beneviento #alcina dimitrescu

[darling-miaxoxo]

respectfully asking for the filipino maid reader fic NOW holyshit

ship: alcina dimitrescu/reader (platonic but also romantic in a way.), lady d's daughters/reader (platonic).

summary: you're a Filipino maid, secretly playing mobile legends while they're chasing down a random intruder.

a/n: tots didn't wait for someone to ask this..

You just finished your tasks and sat down in your dormitories. You pulled out your phone and asked your mom to load you some data so that you could play mobile legends. Your mom replied okay and loaded you 99 pesos worth of load.

You smirked before giggling quietly and opening up mobile legends and lowering your volume. You picked the classic match to not lower your rank if anything was needed, you were already mythic, you can't have that.

You heard a few footsteps, as it passed you shrugged before continuing the match as regular. You picked Alice as it was your main character. You already have gotten 3 kills, one death.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ time skip/alcina's pov

I was chasing an intruder with my daughters as I heard some weird noises. I will deal with that later. I was chasing him as my daughters giggled maniacally as they chased him with their powers.

He fought back as he threw his sword against my face as it didn't hurt me at all. My daughters laughed as Bela went faster, Cassandra whining and trying to go as fast as Bela.

Daniela watched as she giggled at their silly ministrations, Daniela passed both of her sisters as Bela had slown down due to her bickering with Cassandra.

I sighed as I got to the intruder and slashed him till he died. I heard a "SAVAGE!" From one of the maidens dormitory..

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ your pov

You got a savage as you heard footsteps.. you whispered "shit." as you went afk and started to go to the door to peak who was there.. you saw Lady Dimitrescu as you gulped. You closed the door as you continued your match, trying to hurry the fuck up.

As soon as you finally, finally got maniac, you sighed, you didn't even notice when Lady Dimitrescu barged in. You grinned as you killed more people. Alice's voice saying "Your blood empowers me!" almost everytime. Lady Dimitrescu was watching and so we're her daughters as you cussed out your teammates in Filipino.

"TANGINA NINYO BAT DI KAYO NAGPROTECT NG BASE?! ANO KAYO MGA BOBO PARANG EWAN KAYO AH, PARANG EWAN MATATALO TAYO DITO KAPAG GANYAN KAYO MGA TANGA!"

You yelled into the voice chat as your teammates did the same and kept on yelling as you played, you won the match for them.

"parang Ewan. Oh, hi Lady Dimitrescu."

You said to Lady Dimitrescu as she stared at you in confusion and horror.

"are you okay maiden?.."

She said as you shook your head.

"oh, that was one of my other personalities."

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

end

#r is a filipino #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #bro wtf how did I think of this? #sorry for the requests #i have school.

[donna-beneviento-teacups]

This playlist is an humble suggestion following the logic one chapter equals one track. I deliberately have chosen: - classic music because Dimitrescu's castle screams this style - instrumental or softer versions of pop/rock songs as Lady Beneviento doesn't like to speak or be flooded by words. Regarding the instruments, I can't help but associate Donna with strings since I'm convinced there are no better instruments to express grieve. Naturally, Bela is symbolised by the piano. Lastly, I didn't want to duplicate the playlist from the fanfiction The Great Morel Garden by Fitzeroy_McCandless. I can only advise you to read it and listen to the available playlist. Some songs are so on point!

As always, I'm open to suggestions and critics ^^

Chapter 1: Hide and survive Moonlight Sonata - Lola & Hauser This iconic sonata composed by Ludwig van Beethoven is often associated with a sense of longing and introspection. I believe those are the perfect subjects for Donna's introduction. With this version, the two main instruments are present.

Chapter 2: Look at me Montagues and Capulets - Sergei Prokofiev, Richard Clayderman, Bulgarian Symphony Orchestra, Deyan Pavlov The music initially composed by Prokofiev creates a sense of tension and pursuit. It sounds to me like a hazardous waltz. The rivalry atmosphere is a reference to the sisters' show of force and the dance is, of course, the little game where Donna try to keep Bela at bay. This version has a softer second phase with the addition of the piano so it can represent Bela's first appearance in Donna's life.

Chapter 3: Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me Running Up That Hill (Piano Arrangement) - Pianella Piano A classic pop song this time! Switching to Bela's POV so I have chosen a piano version. Neither her nor Donna understand the ins and outs of each other lifestyle. I don't believe Bela wants to swap their positions, she is not this desperate at this point, but she definitely wish to better understand Lady Beneviento.

Chapter 4: Enter Swan Lake - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky This chapter is quite dramatic: finding traitors in castle Dimitrescu, Cassandra's reaction, Bela handling the public massacre, Bela discovering Donna's portait, Bela being a victim of Lady Beneviento's pollen and her recovery. I believe we can hear the building in this music and the dramatic swells that foretell Bela's fight in the cold and future handicap while keeping a romantic undertone.

Chapter 5: What do you want from me? Breathe Me - Sia How about a sad, orchestral ballad about struggling and needing a friend for comfort? I believe it's perfect for this chapter.

Chapter 6: I can't wait to see you Je te laisserai des mots (Instrumental) - Daniella Vega Originally by Patrick Watson, the song is about writing and leaving letters to a dear one while not pressuring the receiver. It suits the Bela and Donna's epistolary relationship flawlessly. This music has a special place in my heart...

Chapter 7: Table for two? Le Festin - Dao Pham Inspired by the Pixar and Disney movie Ratatouille, I love the cosy and relaxing ambiance from this version. This first cooking session followed by the shared meal is their first homelike moment! I hesitated with a bossanova or a tarantella song but I found them too high-spirited for our favourite couple and the introduction of Donna's demons.

Chapter 8: Would you like to lead? Danse macabre - Camille Saint-Saëns, Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra, Keith Clark Not particularly original, I concede. However it was impossible not to associate this emblematic piece of art with the masked ball at castle Dimitrescu.

Chapter 9: I do Kiss From a Rose - Vitamin String Quartet A rather mysterious song that remains unexplained by the singer-songwriter Seal. I suppose the interpretation is quite free in this case... The rose is, of course, a reference to Bela and the strings could express Donna's relief to be accepted. Overall, I support the idea of Bela lightning Donna's grey world.

Chapter 10: A woman and not a female monster Dies Irae - Giuseppe Verdi, Carmen Giannattasio, Veronica Simeoni, Alxander Timchenko, Carlo Colombara, Yuri Temirkanov, St. Petersburg Philharmonic Orchestra I know, so much the drama! I wanted to emphasise on ghosts (choristers) terrorising Donna and wrath building in Bela. The explosion is a reference to Bela's assaults. All the ingredients are here for a fated disaster.

Chapter 11: How dare he?! Dragon days - Vitamin String Quartet Alicia Keys originally compares a castle resident longing for a certain someone to being trapped in a dungeon. Something is in her way to pursue the relationship she wishes for, alas, she can't act and she can only wait. This topic can be applied to Bela and Donna in this chapter. I was looking for a piano version as it's Bela's POV (the dragon pun!) in the majority but this string version is too beautiful to not be selected.

Chapter 12: For Bela! Somewhere Only We Know - Vitamin String Quartet Once again, it's an alternative version by Vitamin String Quartet. Keane lead vocalist Tim Rice-Oxley revealed in 2004 that the song is about being able to draw strength from a place or experience you've shared with someone. I think the idea is perfectly in adequacy with Donna's new will to fight her demons in hope to become respectable once again.

Chapter 13: I trust you Toccata and Fugue in D Minor (Epic Version) - Johann Sebastian Bach, L'Orchestra Cinematique, Alala Bach offers a fabulous piece with a dark and ominous tone. The menacing tone is accentuated with the percussion instruments in this version. I need a grandiose music for Lady Dimitrescu and her confrontation with Donna.

Chapter 14: You don’t need to hide Spectrum - Florence + The Machine It was impossible to not add a Florence + The Machine song as I think her unique universe in Ceremonials match perfectly with the ambiance I wish to write about. I wanted to show that the beladonna releationship reached the level when they both are confortable with the presence of each other even if not announced / invited. How Bela, and her family by extension, changed Donna’s quotidian and illuminated the gloomy manner as soon as they put a step in.

Chapter 15: Cara mia Delicate - Roma Symphony Orchestra My favourite song (for the moment) by Taylor Swift. The protagonists want desperately to not offend their new love interest. They need to be sure that nothing they do scare the other away. Bela and Donna, like any lover, fear of doing something wrong, being too much or not enough at the same time. This version is slower so it fits the slow burn dimension.

Chapter 16: Don’t leave... Don't Speak - Midnite String Quartet Another alternative version by Midnite String Quartet. A heartbreaking song by No Doubt that I think it suits Angie's situation. The doll shares a very special link with Donna. It's a pity it couldn't last and it hurts their dynamic even if Bela being a part of their life is an excellent reason. It's also a reference to the unnecessary need to physically talk between Donna and Angie.

Chapter 17: What if I’m broken, cara mia? BomBom (feat. The Teaching) - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis I bet you didn't expect this one! As there is no special explanation regarding this track, I associate it with a birth or something new. I think it goes well with a blooming romance and the most exploring phase.

chapter 18: You are all I need New Love (Instrumental) - Piano Dreamers Dua Lipa wrote about facing the fear of losing the only thing that matters to you. With this chapter, 'new love' can be understood as the next step in the relationship. Fighting a losing game (wrongly here) and searching for her place are the mindsets that Bela is in.

chapter 19: Beguiler Witch’s Brew - Peter Cincotti This song is a masterpiece, as well as the album (I could write a love letter to this chef-d’oeuvre), and the atmosphere is incredible. Well, I can only encourage you to listen to it.

chapter 20: I won’t endure a world without an us When Am I Gonna Lose You - Local Natives “The song is about the feeling of being in an amazing relationship but feeling the fear and anxiety that it can’t possibly last, whether just by twist of fate or because of your own self sabotage.” It’s exactly what I wish to express for this epilogue.

#resident evil village #re8 #donna beneviento #bela dimitrescu #beladonna #my work #playlist #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #Spotify