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#resident evil biohazard tickle
damadisangue · 7 months
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Snow and blood; a light aftertaste of argan, under her skin, where the disease rages, the stench of death - of defeat. Wesker hides his face in her hair, breathing - listening as her smile turns into a fragile, discordant laugh. "You're tickling me, Al." she murmurs, but clings to his body as if they had reached the end - the clock has now lost its hands, the hourglass its last beads. And he can't lose: he wasn't built for that. He cannot fail: it is not contemplated. He cannot stop: not until the world is purged - made worthy. Alex opens her fingers on his chest, studying the line of an old scar - the bead of a bullet that had broken his collarbone when he was still captain of S.T.A.R.S. She inhales, and he knows she feels it too – he can tell by the way she curls up against him, closing her eyes and growing even smaller, thinner.
Broken.
On their skin the smell of tragedy has always been stronger than all the others. 
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Amazing and stunning art from the lovely @multieleonora96
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elven-author · 7 months
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Leon doesn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that the two men were alone on the back patio; maybe it was the moonlight reflecting off Luis’s hair and the fact the two were so close together that they could feel the other’s body heat radiating off of each other.
Luis had turned to ask Leon something, the words blocked out by the ringing in Leon’s ears, nothing else mattering as Leon leans in to kiss Luis. A kiss Luis doesn’t refuse.
Leon’s hand comes up to cup Luis’s jaw, the short stubble tickles Leon’s palms but at this point he doesn’t care as his eyes close out of instinct. Luis tastes like beer and cigarettes yet to Leon, Luis tastes like something Leon didn’t even know he was craving.
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shadowwalkerimagines · 7 months
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『 The State of Unreality: Drabble 3 - A Roadside Motel 』 Resident Evil/Biohazard (Gameverse) | You; Reader Insert; Second-Person Point of View; Female Reader Rating: M for source material and future content | Warnings: Canon typical violence, Unreality, Alcohol Use, TBD Summary: Whoever could that be, sitting outside his motel room?
Unlike the first dream, this one has lingered with you. You chalk it up to actually having devoted the time to document every little detail you could remember about it the second you woke up. Revisiting the memory of it has likely helped as well. You can’t help it, really. The clarity of the picture, that curious report—it was all quite fascinating.
Sure the end of the dream had ramped up to a rather alarming, life-threatening situation of sorts, but a dream is a dream, guns in your face or not.
This is something novel and new and completely safe. It would be a lie to say you aren’t looking forward to another similar experience. You have to admit it all left you rather excited.
Sure, the Resident Evil universe isn’t exactly the ideal place to experience such lucid dreams but the novelty of it all…
You’ll take what you can get.
So when you find yourself coming to awareness inexplicably walking along another desolate mountain road some days later, you nearly begin vibrating in your enthusiasm. It must not be the same location, however, as street lamps stand stark against the evening darkness this go around.
For a while you simply carry on walking, passing the otherwise uneventful time just existing in the moment and inspecting every little thing that pops into mind. You take in the detail of the gravel on the road, the blades of grass and the fine little hairs on each one, the heavy clouds that threaten rain drifting along the evening sky—all the way to the lint in your pockets and the contents of your shoulder bag, all exactly as should be.
Who knew your mind could create such intricately detailed scenarios. Where is this creative detail when you need it?
Eventually, just as you are beginning to wonder if there is anything more to this dream than incredibly detailed foliage, you make out a building cutting through the tree line. As you grow nearer, you’re able to make out an illuminated “MOTEL” sign posted at its entrance.
The area is lit in a dim warm glow, with a quick glance around showing a single room open, door cracked as golden light spills into the night. There is a man sat on the curb just outside the room, hunched forward, his elbows propped on his knees. What looks to be a beer bottle is held loosely in one hand as he clutches at his forehead with the other.
Do you dare approach?
You bite at your lip and mull over the thought. Realistically, that is not a smart move—who knows what kind of man he could be, what sort of danger he could pose—but you remind yourself: none of this is real; you are not in any actual danger.
And so, you make your way towards him.
"Lookin' a bit rough there, buddy.” Your voice cuts through the otherwise silent night, soft but with a jovial lilt. “You alright?”
The man chuckles drily without looking your way then takes a swig from his bottle. As you step closer you note how his hair curtains his face; it is a bit hard to be certain given the lighting, but he looks to be a dirty blonde. He is dressed in blue jeans and a dark jacket, and as you catch sight of his footwear, you find yourself questioning his choice in white chucks. Surely those get soiled easily.
“Guess I’m just wondering if I made the right choice.” comes his eventual reply. His shoulders bounce as he lets out another dry laugh, his head dropping to rest on the meat of his forearm. "Dropped everything for this new job only to get a call tellin’ me to stay away.”
Something tickles in the back of your mind—this sounds kind of familiar, and this guy’s outfit… Judging from the theme of your last couple dreams, could this be… surely not? …maybe?
“Well that’s a little odd,” you admit, taking a tentative seat beside him on the curb. You try to sneak a closer look at his face but his hair and the angle obscures your view too much. “Sounds like you could use a friend right now.”
He laughs, “What, you offering?”
Puffing out your chest and pounding it proudly, you huff, “Of course! I’m an amazing friend. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity I’ll have you know!”
You can see his shoulders bounce as he chuckles. He turns to face you, finally, and amicably replies, “I’m honored.” His smile is a goofy one, lopsided and messy in his inebriation, but the way his eyes crease—it’s genuine nonetheless.
Caught off guard by the disarming smile, it takes you a moment to really register his face. The lighting isn’t in your favor, but you see enough to confirm your suspicion.
The man sitting beside you, drunk off his ass, is none other than Leon S. Kennedy in all his baby-faced glory.
"Guess I'm just wondering if I jumped the gun…" Leon sighs out.
You can't help it—you snort. “Well, you do strike me as the kind of guy to make hot-headed decisions.”
He quirks a brow at you as he lets loose a dry chuckle—an invitation to go on.
“What, don’t wanna admit it?” You lean in with a devious smirk and bump his shoulder. “Bet you didn’t even tell your girlfriend why you were breaking up with her.”
He reels back, mouth dropping open. You let him flounder for a minute as he struggles for something to say before ultimately settling on, “Is it that obvious?”
You laugh. No, if it was anyone else, anywhere else—if this were real—you would never dare to make such bold assumptions.
“Oh yeah. Pathetically so, man.”
Leon groans miserably, dragging a hand down his face in embarrassment or frustration. You chuckle but don't say anything more, unsure where to go from here—what to say next—before Leon speaks first.
“So why’s my buddy walkin’ around so late at night all by herself anyway?” He politely offers his bottle but you shake your head and raise a palm in protest.
“No real reason,” you admit, “I just find night walks pretty comforting.”
Leon takes a swig from his bottle before casting a heavy look towards the dense tree line across from the motel. You catch the corner of his mouth dipping in a frown.
“We’re not all that far from where all those strange disappearances have been happening, you know.”
“What, worried about me?”
Leon chuckles, “What else are friends for?” It’s played off as a joke but knowing him, knowing this world, there is no doubting the implied message.
“I’m a big girl; I’ll be fine.” You dismiss with a bump to his shoulder.
A beat of silence passes, and you fear you have treaded into awkward territory, before he eventual sighs, “If you say so.”
"Mhm," you affirm with a pat to his back. “But with that being said, I guess I'd best be on my way. Make sure you don’t drink yourself blackout silly, alright?” You nod towards the nearly empty bottle—it’s a hollow warning since you know Leon drinks himself under the rug into the next afternoon, but it doesn’t hurt to say. He just huffs, raises his bottle in cheery acknowledgment, and to just be a little twat, chugs the remainder.
You roll your eyes at the immaturity but the smile on your lips is wide as can be. Stupid, cheesy, adorable man.
A familiar fuzz starts to creep along the edges of your vision, leaving you to suspect you are waking up. Of course this happens now. Is it some kind of unwritten rule that you have to wake up when things start to get good in a dream?
It's too soon—always too soon.
As you watch Leon, hunched over as he is eaten away by insecurities and knowing the horrors he will face in the very near and distant future, you want to give him some kind of encouragement.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Leon," you say with a firm pat to his shoulder and using him to leverage yourself to stand. Dusting yourself off, you continue, "The world can be a really ugly place but it's people like you—that're willing to do good and fight for what's right—that make it a world worth living in."
Leon remains silent and unmoving, seemingly mulling over your words.
You turn away and leave him to his thoughts, tracing your steps back into the darkness of the night. The world blurs and fades into nothing and the next thing you know, you're registering the clunking of tracks, a subtle jostling of all-surrounding movement, and a female voice announcing the next stop from an overhead intercom.
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niceminipotato · 2 years
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So 👉🏼👈🏼 I did the thing I was talking about. I’ve posted the first chapter of my new RE fic. I do hope you enjoy, if it tickles your fancy that is. It is a multichapter so let us buckle up.
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Summary: Subject 19-04, yet another failed experiment in Mother Miranda’s search to find a suitable vessel for Eva, her deceased daughter. 19-04 is used to tests and trials of any nature, some more gruesome than the last. However, she has reached the end of the line. Once you are dubbed a failure you are disposed of as one. What happens when Mother Miranda decides to leave the useless subject in the hands of the illustrious Lady Alcina Dimitrescu and her three fearsome daughters? Will this castle be where 19-04 meets her end? Or will she finally get her life back?
Gosh I’m so scared of this one 😓😓
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ultimatedemonsimp · 3 years
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I've had all of this on my mind for too long and I refuse to apologize for what I'm about to do, but I understand that I'm prolly trash.
Bakers Family Tickle Headcanons
Jack Baker
Pre-infection:
This semi-sweet old man is a switch
Mainly goes after Zoe and Lucas, but does get into tickle fights with Marguerite pretty regularly (most of which he loses, btw)
Absolutely does the whole tickle monster spiel, don't even argue with me, I'm also pretty confident that he teases with compliments
Somewhat rough, but not too much
Raspberries are his favorite fruits. Just look at that man's gd beard-
Doesn't push anyone past their limits
Mostly likes to suprise his lee (leaning over the back of the couch, jumping at them or from behind corners, ect.)
Basically, even before Eveline and her "gift", you still couldn't walk around that house without feeling like you were about to be attacked by him
Old man is also very ticklish
Mostly tickled by Marguerite, but, every once in a while, Lucas has the nuts to get his father back
Ribs, stomach, sides and hips are his worst spots, mostly belly laughs
Likes to receive raspberry as much as he likes to give them
6/10 for ticklishness
Post-infection:
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST-
LER
With ever cell in his mold body, ler
Still tickles his family, but it's become more directed at Eveline and Lucas
That being said, he's very gentle with Eveline, the hivemind making sure he knows exactly what she wants and when
He still has tickle fights with Marguerite, but they've have become more savage and only slightly less loving
Zoe no longer interacts with the family enough to really do any of that anymore
But Lucas... poor Lucas gets his shit wrecked regularly.
A few long gone "family members" have been subjected to this sadistic old man's wrath, as well, but that's not to be dwelled on
As said above, Jack has become a sadistic fuck
Very rough, but not enough to leave bruises
Still uses the tickle monster act, but is much less affectionate than before, taking to scolding and/or insults instead of compliments when tickling someone other than Eveline
Still has his love of raspberries, giving and receiving
Limits? Don't know 'em
Is still as ticklish as before, same places, same reactions, if not a little more dramatic or erratic
Loves to chase his lees, taunting them the whole time (think of the shit he says while looking for Ethan in-game, but alter some of them a little)
Still 6/10, but he's a drama queen.
Marguerite Baker
Pre-infection
Mama of the year is a switch
Other than the tickle fights with Jack, she mainly goes after Lucas and sometimes Zoe
Very loving with her children, mostly does the "coochi-coo" kind of teases
A little bit mean to her husband tho-
She does the "now what are you doin' down there?" that I'm pretty sure all moms do
Really likes to back her lee up against a wall so they can slide down it and she gets to use that line
Stops far before her lee's limit
Southern mama is ticklish, but much less than her husband
Worst spots are the soles of her feet and underneath her toes, shrieks for days
Everywhere else is mostly giggles, whines, and the occasional squeal
Ticklishness is a 4/10
Post-infection
Another one that went from a pretty sweet switch to a mean ler
On rare occasions, she send her little bugs to crawl around on her lee
Not biting, not eating them alive, just walking and fluttering around
Still goes after Lucas, but not as much as Jack does
Is only a little rough with her little baby boy
Zoe doesn't stay around them long enough for tickles
Eveline, of course, is her main lee, who she is very gentle with
Tickle fights with Jack are more rough, though she sometimes tries to start and keep them light, which only really happens a few times every year, when the two of them are cuddled up together in the same bed like a proper husband and wife, tired enough to not want to full-on wrestle, but not enough to get them to sleep
Like her husband, she likes to chase her lee and search for them while they hide
Unlike her husband, she prefers to stay rather quiet, occasionally making comments on finding her lee
Only knows Lucas' and Eveline's limits, anyone else is fucked
Still ticklish, it was actually enhanced a little
Places other than her toes and soles produce more than giggles
Bumped up to a 5/10
Lucas Baker
Pre-infection
Boi is a lee-leaning switch that can't catch a break
Everyone in this house is trying to tickle him at every opportunity
Has tickled people back, but not often, other than Zoe
Him and Zoe have always had very rough and mean tickle fights
Whenever he tickled his father back, he tried to be mean, but it didn't work all that well
Actually just ended up just getting wrecked again afterwards-
Doesn't try to get his mama back though, doesn't mind it all that much from her
Gets Zoe at every chance, though
There's a 50/50 chance he'll respect limits
Ticklish everywhere, but especially his knees and waist
9/10, very ticklish boi
Post-infection
This mans lost all his fight-
Lee, mostly because his old man tuckers him out so much that he can't move for at least ten minutes
Not fully though, he still pops into the trailer to annoy his sister almost weekly
To make sure suspicion doesn't arise, tickles Eveline from time to time, still hates her
Jesus christ, he though he was ticklish enough-
Damn near screeches everywhere
Went from frantically trying to push your hand off his knee while laughing like a maniac to kicking you in the face while screaming like a banshee
He gives off major brat vibes, so that's what I'm going with
Chase him. You won't be disappointed.
It can be running through the giant house or hiding in the bayou, he loves it
Pull a Jack Baker and taunt him, he'll run faster, but also make more mistakes, like getting cornered
Those things are what makes him hate his dad so much because that's always what he does
11/10, went from very ticklish boi to *incoherent screeching*
Zoe Baker
Before Eveline
Was already a ler
Went after the whole family, too
Sneak up behind Lucas while he's doing an engineer and attack with claws to the waist
Daddy's working on the car? Well, he'd better pull down the hem of his shirt or his tickle monster of a daughter is gonna attack
Mama can't cook without checking if her daughter's around every few seconds or she'll be interrupted by a familiar set of fingers kneading her sides
Doesn't tease her parents, but Lucas, of course, gets all of it
Playfully makes fun of him for not fighting it all too much
Got her ler from her father and her lee from her mother
Not very ticklish, but more than her ma'
Hips and stomach are the worst
5/10
After Eveline, the only tickle related things that happened or changed was that she didn't interact with anyone but Lucas.
THEY'RE HERE! FINALLY!
I may or may not make one specifically for Eveline and/or Mia.
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thefanficmonster · 2 years
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Hiya! I'm back! With a new AU to boot!
Mia is demon/spirit stuck in a amulet that's "cursed" but is known to give powers. (In this case Cryokinesis (ice manipulation) and Telekinesis)
While Ethan is still your average guy who just so happened to find the amulet one day and found it's secret. (While also being in love with said secret mwehehehe)
I would love to see your own twist on it :3
Hi darling! Thank you for the incredible AU, hope you like my take on it 🤗
Snowman
Pairing: Ethan Winters x Demon!Mia Winters [Resident Evil Biohazard] Warnings: Demons and talk of Demonology, Swearing
Genre: AU, Romance
Ethan hates the snow. Hates it. Ok, maybe he doesn't hate it always but he sure as hell does hate it when he has to walk through it to and from work. With his car unable to start that morning, he knew there'd be a few days ahead of him where he'd have to brave through the piling white pillows outside to make it to his workplace on time. He prefers summer to the chill of winter which his car's heater does a great job protecting him from usually so the situation he's found himself in is quite unfortunate and he didn't refrain from dropping a string of curse words on it.
However, if he had driven home this one specific day, chances are he wouldn't have noticed the newly appeared accessory on the fence separating his yard from the sidewalk. It was an amulet on a a rope-string, left to hang there on the fence as someone would do if they'd found it on the ground.
Ethan wouldn't have thought a lot about it, would've probably left it where it was too if he hadn't noticed that there was no snow on it.
It had been snowing heavily all day, the whole state practically paralyzed by the blizzard afoot, so regardless of the duration of time that amulet had been there before Ethan's arrival, it was sure to accumulate at least a few snowflakes on its surface.
But there wasn't a single one.
As if the object couldn't exhibit any more bizarre characteristics, when Ethan's gloved hand touched it he felt heat emerging from the golden surface of the amulet, seeping through the material of his glove, tickling his skin to remind him just how cold he is and how he should probably get his ass inside the house. He does so, but not before he takes the amulet with him.
He ditched his coat, sitting down on the couch in his living room to further inspect the alien object. He's not a superstitious person by any means, doesn't believe in the paranormal and isn't religious, but this is not something he could logically explain.
The engraved writing in a language constructed of random symbols didn't help him understand much either. He tried to find a screw or something that could be holding the two halves of the thing shut - his theory was that there was something in it that could be producing the heat, like a heated diode or something, ever the logic-oriented man he is. When his search didn't land him with any leads, Ethan decided he'd had enough for the day and just left the amulet on the coffee table before going to shower and make himself dinner.
As he came downstairs from the bathroom to the kitchen he happened to peep out the window and, right there in his fenced-off, locked and secure backyard stood a snowman that startled him more than a grown man would like to admit - getting scared by a goddamn snowman, for fuck's sake.
The neighborhood he lived in wasn't exactly the best so his security system was top tier, with cameras all over the place, alarms etc. one would think he would've probably been alerted if someone had jumped the fence into his backyard and...to build a snowman? The motive behind the action is far from clear from Ethan's standpoint but he doesn't even think to chuck it up to anything paranormal until he notices the same fucking amulet right by the snowman.
Snow storm or not, he ran out as fast as humanly possible to retrieve the item but instead of him grabbing it, the vice versa happened.
A pale hand appeared, holding the wrist of the arm he reached out to take hold of the amulet. When the blond man finally manages to move his gaze away from the hand, he's finally met with its owner: a black haired woman dressed in a white dress or nightgown with a small smile on her face. Her eyes and touch are warm, contrasting the cold around them which she probably couldn't feel, being an apparition and all. Ethan couldn't feel it either, too entranced by the otherworldly occurrence in front of him.
"We'll be freezing to death if you don't snap out of it soon." The woman tells him, her other hand coming up to tap his shoulder, shaking him a little until he blinks a couple of times. Her smile widens, "Here, you dropped this."
She hands him the amulet which he automatically takes from her despite his original instinct being to get as far away from it and from her as possible. But he's pretty darn stuck right now.
"How rude of me, I never got around to introducing myself, did I?" She chuckles, more to herself than to him, clearly amused by the effect she has on the man before her, "I'm Mia and this..." she taps the amulet Ethan is weakly holding, "...belongs to me. But I like you so I think you should keep it. Goes well with your style."
"W-What are you?" The poor guy finally manages to get a few words out in his shocked state.
"Your new roommate." She giggles, taking a step away from him, "And I'm planning on a lengthy stay, I hope you don't mind. It's my favorite season, and who better to room with than someone whose last name is Winters. Huh...I never realized before how fitting this is then..."
A moment of silence occurs before she fades away, never breaking eye contact with the blond man in the meantime.
"Wait!" He calls out to her, reaching his arm out to where she had been standing but there's no one there anymore. No one but the snowman.
However, Ethan does notice something weird - the snow underneath defying gravity. That's hard not to notice, let's be honest. It's floating upwards in small snowflake-like pebbles, levitating towards his hand. To say he's astonished would be an understatement. And yet, he's still oddly calm.
Snow manipulation aside, he's found himself more concerned about the woman's whereabouts. There was no doubt in his mind that she wasn't an alive human being but even demons had to travel somewhere.
As if on que, the amulet sparkled in his hand, snapping his attention away from the snow he's twirling around in circles, forming a small snow tornado mid-air.
He smiles to himself, content knowing that she'll be by his side even if his eyes don't see her. She came into his life as an odd breeze of comfort, a homey feeling he had been missing since he can remember. She felt like home and he couldn't explain why. He couldn't explain to himself why he felt the connection he felt. He couldn't get over how ridiculous he sounded to himself while also being certain he's right. He's certain that he isn't imagining it.
After all, she chose him. An unworldly being chose him. If he, a regular mortal man, could've made a mistake, she most definitely hadn't. She had chosen carefully and wisely.
And when Mia chooses, it's always the right choice. Ethan Winters was her right choice.
@artlovingbre @megandaisy9
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Tease me with seductive gestures
by Lesbianfictionauthor
You and Lady Dimitrescu go to a ball. Eventually, she gets bored, and you must be the one to keep her entertained.
Words: 2104, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: F/F
Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu, Reader
Relationships: Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Alcina Dimitrescu/Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Teasing, Flirting, Semi-Public Sex, Lesbian Sex, Lesbian Character, Party, Oral Sex, baths, Lingerie, Tickling
from AO3 works tagged 'Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader' https://ift.tt/f3Q0TAu
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coughsyrep · 2 years
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Dying (For You to Love Me)
Alternate Ending: The Five Stages
Summary: "...she feels her throat tickle. She absentmindedly coughs, expecting that to be the end of that, but the feeling persists, and she coughs harder. Suddenly she sits up, feeling like she was choking. She thumped a fist on her chest several times before she feels something flit past her lips. She takes a deep breath, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes before looking down. A large, light pink petal sat on the floor in front of her."
Chapter One is based around requited love.
Chapter Two is an alternate ending based on if the love wasn't returned, and focuses on the Dimitrescu family and their dynamic rather than a romantic relationship.
2797 Words
Link to AO3 if you prefer that format:
Dying (For You to Love Me) - Chapter 2 - traviswrites - Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) [Archive of Our Own]
If you'd prefer to read it here:
Denial
Daniela won’t die. She won’t die, because the maid will fall in love with her, and it’ll be one of the fairy tales that she’s always dreamed of. At least, her mother and sisters want to believe this, because it has to be true. Right?
Anger
Daniela gasps when the bullet forces its way through her chest, the flies that it pierced dropping to the ground. The only thing stopping the momentum of the bullet were the now impenetrable vines that made her every breath painful, not even the force of the attack able the severe the intertwining monstrosity. She collapses onto her knees, though the sound not as loud as the man’s when it thuds onto the ground, his neck at an unnatural angle. Both her middle sister and her Floare stare at her with wide eyes, the latter taking tentative steps before kneeling next to her, arms wrapping around her as Daniela falls forward.
“Draga mea,” she whispers, gasping for breath as one lung collapses around the plants, leaving no room for air. “I love you, draga mea, with all that I am. No story could…” She wheezes, a petal falling from her lips as she shudders, “…could compare to ours.”
“My lady,” Floare whispers, pulling her closer, trying to show her comfort in what she knew would be her final moments.
“I don’t want to die,” she whimpers, voice cracking as she begins to dissolve to dust. “I don’t… but for you, I…” A final sigh left her lips as she crumbled on Floare’s lap, dust already sticking to the black cloth of her maid outfit. The quiet moment didn’t last though, as a growl from behind her made Florae’s head spin. Cassandra’s lips were turned to a snarl, the makeup around her eyes stained down her cheeks.
“This is your fault!” The cold metal slashed at her before she could react, one eye immediately perforated while the rest of her skin was separated in two. Cassandra grins at the scream that’s releases, grabbing the hands that cover her eye and licking the blood as it trickles towards her chin. “Average at best,” she growls as she throws her down, wiping her lips with her sleeve. “Why her love for you led to her death makes no sense. But make no mistake,” she slashes at the cowering girl again, this time catching her arm and pulling her along, a straight path to her mother’s room, “it shall lead to yours as well.”
-
-
Floare never made it to the basement. She instead stayed in Lady Dimitrescu’s bedroom, hung from the ceiling or chained to the floor. Either way, she was never without hooks dug into her skin, keeping her prisoner as the daughters or the matriarch herself came in to toy with her, the wounds they left always tended to so she’d be forced to continue living. The deep gashes were stitched, the burns had salves applied, the punctures were wrapped and bandages changed frequently. The three surviving Dimitrescu members promised that Floare would survive as long as Daniela had, if not longer.
It was the second night of the third week, and she was trying not to whimper as the matriarch slept, knowing she’d only receive punishment for waking her up. But Bela had been ruthless that day, having to go into Daniela’s room to find a notebook that her sister had stolen as a prank before she had gotten sick. She came in enraged, holding a jar of wilted flower petals.
"You still claim innocence?” She says calmly, yet the fire in her eyes and the bloody knife in her hand said differently. “You act like you have no fault?”
“I’ve done nothing!” Floare cried out, hyperventilating when she watches Bela walk to the fireplace again, holding the knife over the flame until it burned red.
“You’ve done everything,” she hissed, relishing in the agonizing scream as she presses the blade to Floare’s hip, her other hand holding her so she couldn’t escape the pain. “You killed her.”
A phone ringing in the other room makes her gasp, along with making her lady sit up straight. After a tense moment her lady sighs, rubbing her eyes as she swings her feet off the bed, beginning to walk towards the door before pausing to look at Floare. Despite trying to make herself small, her lady smiles, walking back towards a lever beside her bed, placing a hand on it.
“I’m not sure if I trust you enough to stay on the ground while I take this call,” she says thoughtfully, though her smirk is malicious. “Perhaps I should take an extra precaution.” Floare’s heartrate spikes at the words, the hooks in her Achilles’ tendons making themselves known.
“Please, my lady, I…”
“Oh, speaking out of turn?” She tuts, shaking her head. “Now I know you won’t be a good girl.” With that she pulls the lever, and Floare’s cries of fear turn to screams of pain as she’s lifted by her feet, head already dizzy from the blood rushing towards it. She hears her lady speaking but can’t decipher it, her pleads not stopping even after the door closes and she’s alone.
With each moment that passes she feels her skin rip slightly more, the tears running up her forehead slowing as she begins to lose consciousness until a snap of ligament and tear of skin is heard, and one leg dangles freely. Mere seconds after the other does the same, and she free falls, landing on her head. Alcina hears the snapping of bones from her room, but only nods at her daughters to go check on it, only stopping her call with Mother Miranda when she hears their screams of anger.
When she walks in, she finds the maid dead.
-
-
Bargaining
Without the laughter of the youngest or the sounds of pain from the maid, the castle was too quiet. Alcina and her daughters rarely spent time together anymore, all throwing themselves into their work and trying not to… think. And when Donna first came and saw the condition of the family, she had a proposition.
“See her again?” Cassandra asks, immediately on edge. “What does that mean?”
“It won’t be forever,” she says quietly, holding an oddly obedient Angie in her arms, “but it will be similar to having her back.”
“But it’s not truly her?” Donna nods at Alcina, who lowers her head. “So then what’s the point?”
“Some see it as… cathartic.” She shrugs, holding Angie closer to her. “To be able to talk to a loved one who is gone. I thought I’d offer.” The three Dimitrescu women are silent, each trying to imagine what it’d be like to talk to Daniela again before Bela steps forwards, her hands behind her back.
“I’d like to see her,” she says, voice wavering despite her confident façade. “I’d like to see her again.”
“Me too,” Cassandra jumps in immediately after, going to stand by her sister. “Just… yeah.” Donna’s veil turns to Alcina, who only pauses for a moment before nodding. Donna breathes out, breath caught by the veil but yellow pollen escaping through the edges. The three fight their urge to hold their breath, knowing the effects it could have, but after a minute they hear a vase tip over behind them. The all quickly turn to see a familiar red head, looking at them sheepishly as she fakes her innocence.
“Dani,” Bela whispers, walking over to her and tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder. Upon feeling that her touch was real, she pulled her into a hug, one that Daniela immediately nuzzled into. Despite Cassandra’s usual cold demeanor and dislike of touch, she too swarmed to join the hug, all three of their flies buzzing excitedly at being reunited. It was when Alcina stood that the three broke apart, though Bela and Cassandra stood protectively by her side as she made her way over, kneeling in front of the youngest and caressing her face.
“I’ve missed you, my darling,” she says gently, eyes watering at the sight of her youngest happily nuzzling into her palm.
“Mamă,” she purrs happily before freezing, eyes glancing back to the vase that she broke when she had gotten there. Her mother chuckles, scratching gently on the shaved side of her head.
“Don’t worry about that right now, darling. Nobody’s mad at you.”
“We just miss you,” Bela says quietly, taking her hand, and Cassandra nods beside her. “We’re happy you’re here again.” From behind them Donna’s breathing becomes harsher, less pollen coming out with each one.
“You… you all still love me?” Alcina nods, leaning down and kissing the tattoo on her forehead.
“We could never stop, my darling.” The three surviving Dimitrescu can’t help but smile at the glow that Daniela emanates at the statement, the familiar giggle hitting all of them hard.
“Alcina…” Donna wheezes, and she looks back to see Donna clutching her chest, Angie sitting beside her. She furrows her brows at the woman, shaking her head.
“Can you not wait another moment? I’m trying to-”
“Mamă!” She turns at Bela’s voice and sees Daniela flicker, but despite the show that she’s just an illusion she can’t feel like she’s losing her daughter again.
“Daniela, not yet, please…” But with a serene smile, Daniela dissipates before their eyes. A tense silence fills the air as Alcina stands, glaring over her shoulder at Donna.
“Out.” She watches as the woman pauses before extending her claws, swirling on a heel. “I said out!” As she watches the woman in the veil make her leave, she hears her daughters fly away as well. With a glance back at the vase she sighs, rubbing her temple before making her way to the cellar.
Depression
Alcina doesn’t remember the last time she has drank this much. It was becoming a problem, as with Cassandra’s growing anger there was a lack of blood supply, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She left her daughters to her own devices, as long as she didn’t have to have a sober thought. As long as she didn’t have to think of how she was a bad enough mother to lose Daniela, a bad enough mother to let her daughters fall to the states that they were now in.
The necessary paperwork for the wine company was piling up, as Bela found herself having trouble reading past a page before losing her concentration. The same applied to everything in her life, in fact. Music, which had once been something she turned to when stressed, now seemed like a chore. Studying for fun was once a past time for her, learning anything she could, but now every new subject seemed to fly over her head. And reading? She couldn’t even step into their library, much less find a book.
And then Cassandra. She was angry before, but it was controlled. It was what made her a sadist; she could extend a person’s suffering, but now she couldn’t look at a person she was meant to torture without going for their jugular. They’ve always been understaffed due to her and her sisters, but now the castle was damn near empty. And the quiet made it so. Much. Worse. She was tempted to go out to the village on her own, the snow that covered the ground this time of year be damned.
And that was her plan. She made sure to wear her thinnest cloak, telling herself that if she couldn’t handle the cold then she didn’t deserve to live, when she smelled it. She took a deeper breath, course changed to another hall that she always associated with blood but never this kind. Lycan.
With her sickle pulled out she carefully stalked the halls, eyes darting back and forth until she reached a door she hadn’t seen in months. The emerald in the center had been freshly polished, and the door opened slightly. She growled at the sight, seeing red at the fact that someone dared to go into her sister’s room. When she kicked open the door, the maid screamed for less than a second before it turned to choked gurgles, her body slamming into the wall outside of the room, neck slit wide open. Cassandra glares at the corpse before the scent catches her attention again, and she eyes the bathroom.
With a raised sickle she wrenches open the half open door, noticing that all of the cabinets were open, one giving off the sickening stench. She crouches down, retching as she pulls out a collar before huffing as she reads “Puppy” written on a tag that dangled below it.
"Well if Mother won’t let me have a pet, I’ll just have to catch one myself!” Cassandra snorts, shaking her head.
“You’re never domesticating a Lycan, you know that.” Daniela pouts at her, crossing her arms.
“You’ll see! I’ll get it a collar and everything! Property of Daniela!” Cassandra hums, turning back to her sickle to end the conversation, ignoring when Daniela leaves with a huff.
She didn’t even realize she was laughing until her stomach hurt, doubled over as she clutched the collar tightly to her chest as tears rolled down her cheeks. Her laughs echoed down the hallways, catching her mother’s and sister’s attention, both of whom make their ways to her.
“Cass?” She looks up at Bela, hiccupping during her fit. “Cass, what’s going on?”
“She actually tried,” she giggled, holding up the collar, “she actually fucking tried!” Bela took it, holding the collar so that both her and her mother could see the tag, and after a moment their mother chuckles as well. The sisters both look up at her, the sound magical compared to the silence that they’ve heard since Donna’s trick.
“She was always the imaginative one,” Alcina says, shaking her head. “She probably would have, given more time…” The three pause at the statement, Alcina immediately regretting it until Bela took her hand.
“She always spoke about all of the books she would someday read as well,” she says, reminiscing on the memory. Cassandra nods, snorting as she drops her head.
“She once bet me a weeks’ worth of liver if she could read the entirety of Dracula in a day. Shouldn’t have underestimated her.”
“She only bet you a week? She bet me a month, same book!” The three laugh, Alcina gently taking the collar from Bela and sighing. She watches as her two eldest talk about Daniela, and wondering if, instead of the way they’ve been acting, there was another that would better honor her youngest?
Acceptance
“Do you not know what centered means?” Alcina shouts, the workers Heisenberg had lent her cowering as she walks to the center of the library. “I want it directly under the skylight, do I have to do this myself?” Without waiting for an answer she lifts the statue, carefully moving it until it’s to her liking, then backs up to admire it. “There. Now out, all of you.”
The workers scatter, leaving Alcina alone with the memorial of her youngest daughter. Her height is exaggerated, taller than her sisters though still shorter than Alcina, the marble made to look as soft as the fabric of the robes that had once graced her. Her arms were outstretched, hands flexed outwards, face tilted upwards and one leg kicked back as if she were preparing for a swan dive, a pose that Alcina saw fitting for her vibrant daughter. When the sculptor had asked if she wanted to add flowers, saying it added to memorial pieces, she immediately said no. Though Daniela would forever be one of her three roses, flowers had done enough. Besides, there was no need to add extravagance when Daniela was the subject.
“Mother?” She hums, looking back when she hears Bela and Cassandra fly in. They both look at her nervously, and she gives a tilt of her head. “We… there was one more thing, that we’d like to add?”
“Of course, my dear girls.” Bela gives Cassandra a reassuring nod. The middle child blows out a breath before stepping forwards, pulling Daniela’s necklace from behind her back. Alcina gasps, and Cassandra takes a step back, but her mother gives her a smile, nodding to the memorial.
The two eldest Dimitrescu women watch as Cassandra places and secures the necklace with shaky hands before falling back to the other side of her mother, all three standing in a line as they take her form in. Alcina places a hand on both of her daughters’ shoulders, nodding as she lets her tears fall freely.
And for the first time since they lost Daniela, the three feel like they can breathe again.
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hedgeytheswitch · 3 years
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Another year older…..😁 I’m still late 20s 😆
Puppy has been amazing these past few days 😆 I have family down and they all wanted to celebrate my birthday together 😊 it was lovely and I love having a close family but they can be very frustrating sometimes 🙄 they take ages making decisions n stuff. Anyway puppy has gone to a BBQ with his boy buddies and I have my birthday present Resident Evil Village to play! Loving it so far 😍 scary but awesome 👏 I adored Biohazard ☣️ one of my favourites and I like the improvements they’ve made into the squeal 😁
Got lots of awesome presents 🎁 and now I’m just gonna relax and watch Juno…..
Oh also this morning my boyfriend starting switching between tickling my boobs and my button over my shirt! 😆😫 it was soooo good!
“hehehehehe nnghuhhh oh ohhohhhnbghhuheheheHAHAHAbngjuhUHUHEJEHRHEohhh gahhahaddd”
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ratleaderr · 4 years
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@puzzlepcice​ sent:  “ guess i’m gonna have to step up my game. ”
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   THE LEADER LAUGHS, genuine laughter that he hadn’t done for a long time -- the feeling that tickled at his ribs felt good, so good.   buuut he won’t be laughing he drew the lowest card next round, or will he? truth or dare wasn’t skill, but a pure gamble of who faces glory, or humiliation.   and judging by the tone of the new girl’s voice.. she was already racking up ideas for his well-deserved vengeance .   
       ❝ –   whenever my day’s shit.  i’ll just think of that face you made.  ❞   he’s met with a glare as she takes her seat back next to her boy.   he was taunting the crocodile, he knew it.   but SMELLING WILLY’S HAIR? not a whiff, full nose inside the bird’s nest and inhale?   he can’ imagine the STINK that filled her nose and killed a million brain cells from that dare alone.
RESIDENT EVIL: BIOHAZARD STARTERS.
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ao3feed-danganronpa · 2 years
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First Impression
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/uqCJN2A
by CoffinLiqueur
She’d entirely expected him to respond to her invite by tearing into her like a bag of party favors - quick and dirty, rough and mindless - and that kind of whirlwind fling was a perfectly enjoyable one, particularly in the reactions she received when any wannabe hotshots looking for a “conquest” found that she liked to feast on her encounters, too, with her teeth and nails.
But how it tickled, being explored and savored.
Words: 2406, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M
Characters: Mioda Ibuki, Lucas Baker
Relationships: Lucas Baker/Mioda Ibuki
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, First Time, Experience Difference, Exploring One's Partner, Body Worship, Breast Worship, Pussy Worship, Hickeys, body piercings, genital piercings, Foreplay, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Licking, Biting, light sadomasochism
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/uqCJN2A
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damadisangue · 11 months
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Smooth, pale: this is Natalia Alex's skin now.
Wesker runs his fingertips over her body, in his eyes the suspicion having given way to wonder - something horribly like relief.
"You are tickling me." she tells him when he touches her ribs, her laughter reverberating in his chest, between his bones.
Alex tilts her chin to the left, placing her hand on his knee.
"It hurts." she murmurs, and he knows she must have heard it too as he fell and burned and melted from the inside and…
"It will never go back to the way it was before." she adds, coaxing a tangle of scars and shriveled skin on his knee.
"The damage was too great." she goes on, sliding her forefinger down his leg and following a jagged line, reddened around its edges.
She stops, her hand disappearing below the level of the water, in the foam that tastes like Sicilian cedar and bluebell.
She bows her head and Wesker can't resist the urge to push her hair away from her neck, kissing the back.
Alex chuckles, moving and swinging the water around them - warm, reassuring.
She turns away, settling between his thighs and studying his face with a gentle, delicate intensity that makes him feel exposed, weak.
You've aged, Al." she contemplates, brushing against a cut on his right temple, a whitish cord between his ribs, where he had risen as the Adam of a distorted Eden.
"It fits you." she whispers, locking her fingers around his cock and leaning towards him.
“The scars are a reminder, Albert; we were created - breeding - to be perfect, free from impurities and mistakes, and yet here we are: failed and wrong and with nothing to remind us why."
Wesker leans back, allowing himself to be overwhelmed by Alex - by a feeling that had nourished him, reducing him to the primitive essence of need.
A hunger that had made him no different from the infected - from the beasts he had been called to command.
Alex kisses him, blood between their thighs, under his tongue; in a heart burned and blackened by loneliness.
"Can I sleep with you, Al?"
When he thrusts into her it's like breathing again.
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shadowwalkerimagines · 8 months
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『 The State of Unreality: Drabble 2 - The Laboratory 』 Resident Evil/Biohazard (Gameverse) | You; Reader Insert; Second-Person Point of View; Female Reader Rating: M for source material and future content | Warnings: Canon typical violence, Unreality, TBD Summary: Is your subconscious trying to tell you it's time to see the doctor? Last you checked, doctors didn't have heavily armed security on-call though.
You don’t count the days that have passed since the dream with that lone mountain road, eerie green glows in the forest, and vicious dogs. The dream has all but faded from memory when you have another.
You come to awareness in some sort of science lab that reminds you of distant school courses. It appears to be a legitimate set up, like something one would expect from a hospital or research facility.
What’s with this setting?
You let loose a thoughtful hum as you walk along glass cabinets filled with labeled vials and unfamiliar equipment. Counter space that isn’t taken up by beakers, miscellaneous equipment and microscopes are covered in layers of folders, papers with data tables and indecipherable formulas, and pictures that remind you of things you’ve seen in biology textbooks.
Another hum escapes from your lips.
You pick up one of the pictures.
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It looks kind of familiar—black and white and full of cell clusters—though you struggle to place why. Microbiology had been interesting in school and all but you had not devoted any more time studying it than anything else, so why is this piquing your interest?
With a dismissive hum and a shrug, you place the image back amongst the paper pile and shift your attention. Snatching up a scrap of paper that seems oddly out of place amongst its more pristine counterparts, you scrutinize it. You recall having heard text is indecipherable in dreams but...
With furrowed brows, you scan the document. You have to admit it is a bit of a strain—some words seem to double up or move around but you can definitely make sense of it.
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Shouldn’t this be completely incomprehensible nonsense? And much like the image, the contents tickle something familiar in the back of your mind.
Wanting to test things further, you rifle through more papers and though the technical stuff makes no sense nor does anything else trigger that curious sense of familiarity, you find everything else may not be perfectly readable but readable nonetheless.
How curious. What if you check out what's in the cabinets, maybe there will be something in there?
“Who are you?”
You jump, whipping around in surprise to come face-to-face with a blonde, middle-aged man. His striking blue eyes are narrowed, thin lips pressed in a frown—a clear display of suspicion and distrust. His white coat and smart looking attire clue you in to the likelihood of him being a resident researcher.
“How did you get in here?” he continues at your silence, his tone low and accusatory. You want to ask him the same thing (you hadn't so much as heard him come in) but notice him fiddling with something in his pocket and, not wanting to press your luck, quickly raise your arms in surrender.
“I dunno.” You admit because honestly? You don’t.
He clearly doesn’t believe you, however, if his expression is anything to go by, and proceeds to fish whatever it was from his pocket. And oh man, is that-
“A pager?” Tense situation or not, the appearance of the archaic device has you belting out a laugh. “Really?” Where in your subconscious did that device get drudged up?
Your reaction seems to catch him off guard, a perplexed expression flitting across his face. He levels you with a glare but doesn’t probe, instead electing to type something away on the device.
You purse your lips and furrow your brow, arms dropping as you realize he had not been reaching for a weapon.
“So where is this anyway,” you nonchalantly ask, electing to lean back against the counter, arms crossing over your chest, “some kind of hospital?”
He gives you a skeptical look and you offhandedly notice that he’s very clearly blocking the door. “Playing dumb isn’t going to get you out of this,” he shoots back.
“I’m not playin’,” you sigh out, “I really have no idea where I am or how I got here.” Dreams don't often cover the logistics of that kind of thing, after all.
“I find it hard to believe someone would just so happen to stumble this deep into an Umbrella facility through sheer coincidence. Though…” and here he pauses to scrutinize you, making a very clear display of looking you up and down, “…I must admit that’s a very curious choice of attire for espionage.”
“Wha-? Espionage?” And what’s wrong with what you’re wearing? A quick glance down at yourself shows that, much like your last lucid dream, you are wearing what you had fallen asleep in. But what’s wrong with that? Comfort before all else!
With a harrumph you tell the man as much, “It’s comfy. Besides, you don’t see me judging your science nerd getup and choice in old school tech.” A petulant, petty response, but you couldn’t help it.
It takes a beat, but something he said finally registers and you jolt forward.
“Wait, Umbrella?”
Before you can gather any sort of reply, however, a loud beeping cuts through the room—a clear signal—that prompts the man to reach behind himself and fiddle with a keypad connected to the door. It slams open and in no time at all the room is swarming with men clad head to toe in black tactical gear, guns leveled directly at your head. Your arms fly up in surrender once again because dream or not, the thought of getting shot isn’t exactly enticing.
Damn, this dream went from zero to a hundred real quick.
The guards don’t say anything to you—no ordered commands or demands. Instead, they stand between you and the blonde, seemingly awaiting his orders but more than ready to take you out should you so much as blink wrong.
You watch as the blonde says something—a command to you or the guards, you can't say—but for some reason you are unable to make out a single syllable. You try to strain your hearing but nope, nothing.
That's when you notice the finer details of the laboratory are fading into an incomprehensible fog.
Oh, you think, is the dream ending already? And it was just getting to the action...
You can only watch as the guards all seem to meld into one nebulous blob of black, a single splotch of white breaking from it and moving towards you. A quick flash of light and then the next thing you know, you're registering the darkness behind your eyelids, the pillow clutched tight against your chest, the light blanket over your figure, and the droning hum of the fan you had fallen asleep to.
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nalu-week · 7 years
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Biohazard
(NaLu Week bonus day 6/15/17
Groaning… “Oh where am I?” her voice muffled and groggy.  The room she finds herself in is darkened with only a small bit of moonlight filtering in through a curtain-less window.  Turning over slowly her stiff and sore body aching with every movement.  She looks down at her hands that are pressed against the wooden floor planks, they are dirty and cut up.  “What happened…” Her mind flashes back; the abandoned farm house… oh no they found us!  Running, they were running away from… she’s screaming… then he screamed and pushed her, pushed her out of the way of… and then falling…  She looks up.  There is a hole in the ceiling from the second floor.  ‘I fell through there…’  “Oww!”  she grits her teeth as the pain in her head finally reveals itself, reaching up she feels something wet and sticky running down her fingers; blood.  ‘I must have hit my head when I landed…’ 
~~~
As soon as the outbreak had taken on a life of its own; she, her boyfriend Natsu, best friend Levy, and Levy’s boyfriend Gajeel managed to escape The City before the gates were sealed shut thanks to friends in the RPD.  Of everyone they knew, they were all that remained, the others either killed or worse…  The four had been constantly on the move for the last couple of years, travelling up and down the Midwest trying to avoid the hordes figuring the bigger cities would be overrun.  That is, up until a couple of weeks ago when they were caught off guard while hiding in a motel near Las Vegas.  The zombies caught Levy, who now turned and attacked Gajeel.  She and Natsu managed to climb out of a back window and escape by hotwiring the nearest car.   
….and now here they were.
That’s when the sudden realization of being all alone enters, ‘Oh no!  Natsu?!’  She sobs lightly.  He had saved her but at what cost?
She staggers to her feet, keeping a hand pressed against the small wound.  Barely able to see she shuffles her gait and uses her arms and hands to feel in front of her.  The room she landed in is empty save for a box of what looks like old magazines and a broken chair, ‘Damn’ nothing she can really use as a portable weapon.  Squinting she notices a little bit of shine that catches her attention, her heart leaps; a door knob.
Pressing her ear against the wooden door she hears nothing and exhales as she slowly turns the ancient knob.  Slight whine as the old gears turn metal against metal… She holds her breath and prays, ‘please nothing hear that…’  click.  Pushing the door inch by inch the rusted hinges groan and creak until there is about a foot of space.  Steeling herself for whatever may lie beyond she peeks her head out just enough to listen; she holds her breath.  Left… silence.  Right… silence.  But there’s a problem, the hallway is much, much darker. 
Retreating back into the shadows of the room.  ‘Think Lucy, when you entered the front door what do you remember?  To the right was a kitchen, left a living room, in front of you was stairs leading to the second floor and right next to it, the hallway!  But which side of the hall am I on?  The wrong turn and I’ll hit the wall at the end…’  She exhales, ‘I’ll need to use my phone to see, b-briefly.’  Her hands shaking as she fumbles for the phone in her pocket.  Pressing the power button, she breathes a sigh of relief; thank goodness for car chargers.  Using her hand to control how much light is visible she returns to the hallway, listening one more time for any sounds before flashing the light.  Right, wall!  ‘The front door is to my left!’ 
Keeping her back pressed up against the wall she creeps along feeling with her feet for any obstructions.  20 feet.  Silence, so far so good…  15 feet.  Her eyes are starting to adjust to the conditions, light from the front windows providing a slight ability to gauge her surroundings.  10 feet.  She’s nearing the kitchen.  Freeze!  She hears a shuffling sound and comes to a dead halt, staying still; only her eyes darting around searching for the source of the noise.  A shadow crosses in front of her but she cannot make out a specific shape.  Her breath hitches and her eyes travel along the staircase up into the darkness of the second floor.  ‘Whatever attacked us could still be up there!’ 
She remains motionless.  5 minutes pass by, no further noises.  She darts her eyes to the front door.  ‘Should I take the chance?’  10 minutes.  ‘What if, whatever it is upstairs is watching and waiting too?’  Most of the walking undead were slow and only had one primal urge, to eat; eat anything they encountered if it had flesh.  But, they had heard from other travelers about zombies that seemed to, almost think.  And then after Levy had become one of the undead they saw this with their own two eyes.  Levy had 3 options in the room; attack her who was the closest, attack Natsu who was right next to her, or attack Gajeel who was across the room; she chose her boyfriend.  But why?  Was it familial?  Some underlying emotional tie? 
No time to think about it.  The front door was right within a short running distance, 5 full gaits if she sprinted.  To… ‘Stay.  Go.  Stay, No.  Go!’  She pushes herself off using the wall as a springboard and takes that first leap.  Creak!  ‘Shit!!’  Second step.  Whoosh!  Thud!  “NOOOO!!” her shrill cries echoing against the silent walls as something pins her to the floor.  Thrashing against the assailant she screams in absolute terror and pain as it pulls at her hair.  Shredding through her clothes it claws at her back and its nails dig deep into her flesh.  “AHHH!  Stop!  Get off me!”  Finally, she manages to twist her body enough to turn over, her matted hair blocking some of her vision she grabs onto a pair of arms.  “Oh No!”  Her eyes grow wide as soon as she sees the attacker.  She starts to whimper.  “Natsu.  It can’t be!” 
A large wound to his throat, hair no longer spiked but flat in some areas from all the blood, patches missing in others. What is left of his clothing is either shredded or filthy.  More wounds already starting to fester pockmark his arms and upper body.  Through lifeless green eyes he stares down at her.  His canines, that she once thought were cute now become his most menacing of features.  “Natsu Stop…” she sniffles.  He halts his assault for a moment as if he recognizes her voice….
That fleeting hope of recollection is dashed when he bares his teeth and tries to bite her.  She screams.  “Natsu Nooo!  Please… Don’t!”
~~~
“Natsu Nooo!” she tries to push him off of her
“Lucy!”  he shakes her
“Nooo!  Please!  Don’t!” she flails against him
“Lucy wake up!”  he shakes her again, harder this time
“Don’t hurt me!”  Her eyes pop open and she bolts into a sitting position with her hands still poised as if fighting off an attacker. 
“Lucy, it’s okay, no one’s gonna hurt you!”
“Wait!” Now completely awake, “Where am I?  I was just…” She looks around in a state of shock, no longer in an abandoned farm house but their apartment.  She blinks, “…but you were a zombie… and you were attacking me… and…” 
“Zombie?  Attacking you?  Lucy you were having a nightmare.”
“No!  It-it was so real…” she checks her body for wounds, reaches up to her head convinced there’d be blood but nothing.  Tears welling up in her eyes, “I swear; I could feel the blood running down my fingers, I could feel every slash from your nails…” 
He pulls her onto his lap and holds her tight to his body, “Well it’s over now.  You’re safe.  And if anymore zombies try to attack, I’ll protect you.”
“Tch,” she crosses her arms, “Don’t tease me!  You’re such an ass sometimes.”
He laughs harder, “I’m sorry babe, I couldn’t help myself.  But I think no more scary video games for you anymore.”
She punches his arm, “You’re the one who made me play it!  I told you Resident Evil terrifies me!”
Still chuckling, “I just wanted you to try it once, didn’t think you’d get so rattled.”
Sigh, “I’m just gonna stick to Pokemon Go! from now on.”
“WoOoOoOo!” he tickles her side, “Beware of the Charizard babe, it might scare you.”
“Oh please, I love my fire dragon!”   
NaLu Week Bonus D!ay June 15th, 2017  - Prompt Video Game
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ultimatedemonsimp · 3 years
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So... I may or may not have some RE7 tickle headcanons in the works rn...
I'm sorry, but I can only find one other thing about it and, as much as I love my Lucas, I also want some tickle action with the rest of the family.
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ao3feed-danganronpa · 3 years
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In a Round
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TyNPjL
by Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)
She doesn't... think he'll mind if she takes a little bit to return all the stuff he said.
The fact that she's lucky, too, is the kind of sentiment, she thinks, that needs a song.
Words: 1121, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M
Characters: Mioda Ibuki, Lucas Baker
Relationships: Lucas Baker/Mioda Ibuki
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Relationship Study, Character Study, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, with a Touch of Bittersweet, Romance on the Great Pacific Garbage Patch of Misfit Toys, Tickle Fights, Pillow Fights, Some Vaguely Suggestive Themes
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2TyNPjL
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