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leonsbunny · 5 months

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Heart For Brains

( Re8!Chris Redfield x gn!reader || your husband finally comes home || link to pt 1)

Seeing you again was the only motivation Chris had at this point.

Your smile, the way you said his name whenever you say you love him, the way you complimented his cooking, everything. He wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you away, away from all the man-made biological horrors that he had to fight off seemingly endlessly on each and every mission he went on.

Calling Chris a worrywart was an understatement.

He constantly worried about you and others before himself. He couldn't help it. He had a heart for a brain. He couldn't help wanting to protect everyone before himself. Even on missions, he thought about you. He's memorized your schedule at this point, most of the time when he isn't shooting the undead he thinks about what you're doing, even when he's in Europe and you're still at your shared home in America.

Seeing your face on his computer screen brought him back to the ground, the way your eyes softened at him made him feel mushy inside. The world was hard on him. You made him feel soft. "I miss you so much, dear. The bed feels painfully empty without you in it." You say, leaning onto your hand as you look back at Chris through your side of the screen. He always loved these little video chats with you. He loved hearing your sweet voice. The hardened man was practically putty around you. Your words melted him. "I miss you too, honey. You eat yet?" Chris asks, as always putting your needs before his own. Despite the fact that he was currently stationed in Europe and you safely at home.

You nod your head in reply. "Mhm, I did eat! Eggs and bacon." You reply back. "Isn't it like… 3 AM over there? Why do you care if I eat when you should be sleeping?" You ask, jokingly. Tilting your head as you lean on your hand. You always found it endearing the way he cared so much for you. But it also somewhat worried you. You made it your goal now to pamper your husband once he returns from his mission in Europe.

Chris chuckles along with you. "I can't help but worry, honey. You're at home all alone." He says in reply. "There isn't much going on here anyways." He murmurs, playfully scoffing. "How's your morning so far, babe?" He asks, leaning slightly toward his side of the screen. A shine in his eye as he hears you talk about your morning. Though your morning was uneventful, he listened intently, wanting to share that quiet life with you right there and then. No monsters. No guns. Just you and him, together. He can't wait to come back home and return back to you.

The day he came back to Europe was the same as always, the same routine of greeting Chris at the door, hugging him close to you, his much larger frame enveloping you into his. "I miss you, dear." You murmur softly, your head to his chest. "I miss you too, honey." Chris replies back, his nose taking in your familiar scent as the two of you embrace. The scent of home. The two of you share this exchange for a couple more minutes before you let go. "Let me help you with your bags, babe. You must be exhausted." You say, a hand reaching out to grab one of his duffel bags.

"No, no, I don't need your help." Chris quickly says, gently swatting your hand away. Even when arriving home, Chris didn't want you worrying for him or lifting a finger for him. He was stubbornly caring for everyone except himself. You sigh softly, deciding not to prod any further. You pull your hand away and hug your husband one last time before letting go.

"Just…decompress yourself and rest, okay?" Your eyes soften looking at your husband. You knew he needed a break. He knew that he needed a break, too. Chris grabs his bags without struggle, murmuring a small "Thanks, honey." As he walks into your shared bedroom, slowly unpacking his things from his duffle bags. You give Chris some time to get used to his surroundings again. Enough time to shower and change into a fresh set of clothes. He was gone for a long while.

The feeling of being home again felt foreign to Chris. He felt like he didn't belong here.

He had gotten so used to the endless cycles of fighting, fighting to protect people, fighting to protect his friends. Fighting to protect you. He felt like he didn't deserve to be home again. He's pulled out of his own thoughts when he realizes that you're hugging him from behind. He also realizes he was staring blankly at the full body mirror in your shared bedroom. Chris chuckles softly at your attempt to wrap your arms around his muscular build fully. "What a sweet thing you are." He comments, shuffling himself to face you. "I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you, honey." He says, easily scooping you up in his arms.

"All the right things, dear. I'm really glad you're home again." You reply, wrapping your arms around him for support. A small blush appears on Chris's face hearing your words. Knowing you cared for him. Not for his battle knowledge or his strength was enough to make small hearts appear in his eyes if that was humanly possible. Knowing you wanted him at home melted his heart.

He gently places you down on your shared bed, handling you carefully, almost like porcelain. He didn't want to hurt you, after all. You were his drive to go on missions. He went through hell just to see you again, and it was worth it every time. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept in a normal bed. Let alone hold you in his arms. Chris wanted to change that.

"You were right about this bed being lonely without me. I forgot how big this thing is." He comments, a small chuckle leaving his chest. You smile softly, hearing his words, patting a spot next to you for him to lay down. He climbs next to you in bed, the bed frame shifting slightly under his weight. He slowly wraps his arms around you, sighing contently as he rests into the mattress. It's been a while since he's had a normal bed. Pulling you close to him, Chris kisses the crown of your head. "Love you, sweet thing." He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear. "Love you too, babe." You reply back, hugging his shoulders as his hands rest right above your hips.

You lay your head comfortably on his broad chest. You both enjoy the silence together. Finally, you both had time alone. "...you're off your mission and you still wear your work clothes?" You say aloud, gesturing to one of his many, black turtlenecks. You couldn't tell if it was a fashion statement or a sign of how much working for the BSAA weighed on your husband's psyche. "They're comfortable, honey." Chris replies, his eyes fluttering open hearing your voice. He drifted off to sleep for a brief moment, just holding you in his arms. He was home.

You smile hearing his answer. "They sure do." You say in agreement, shifting in the bed so that you're facing him. Head still resting comfortably on his chest, your fingers trace over his muscles. "They make you look professional, babe." You add on your fingers slowly making their way up his arm, then to the collar of his turtleneck. The entire time, Chris had a small blush on his face. You really did make him soft. "T-thank you, honey." He quietly says back, his eyes darting between your fingers and your face. Despite being a hardened BSAA captain, he was a soft, putty mess around you. Easily moldable and malleable simply by your words and touch.

Your fingers rest near his collarbone until you gently tug down his turtleneck. This causes Chris's eyes to widen slightly. The small blush on his face spreads even more, the tips of his ears almost red.

He wasn't expecting this type of welcome home. Not at all.

Seeing this reaction out of your husband always surprised you. Chris Redfield, the expert on the living dead, the man who had a heart for a brain, got flustered simply by the way you spoke and your hands. Your eyes scan his neck, noting the way his Adam's apple nervously bobbed up and down. He was always so shy when it came to physical affection, yet he was proud to hold hands with you in public. Not taking a second thought to wrap his much bigger hand in yours.

"Kissing is more…intimate than holding hands, right, dear?" You ask, eyes darting up at Chris, who was still, completely red in the face. His hands cling to your hips, bringing you closer to him. "Y-yes. It is more intimate than kissing, sweet thing." Chris replies, nodding his head a bit in agreement.

Slowly, you tug the collar of his turtleneck lower and lower until his neck is fully exposed. Chris's breathing hitches. The man was absolutely flustered now. Going from a grizzly bear to a teddy bear around you and only you. "H-honey…what are you doing?" He quietly asks, not stopping you at all. "Just…relax, dear. Let me calm you down, okay?" Chris slowly nods his head, letting your lips get closer to his neck. Your husband tenses up slightly as you get closer. He was so shy and yet craved physical affection from you. Especially after being away from you for so long.

Your lips gently pepper his neck in kisses, Chris loosens up, back pressed against the mattress. Relaxing as you kiss his neck. Two of your fingers are still tugging down his turtleneck collar as he speaks. "This…feels nice. You're really spoiling me, huh?" He comments, letting you do your work. All you do is hum in response. Your kisses turn more feverish as you trail up closer and closer to his jawline.

This must've unlocked something in Chris's brain. He immediately grabs you by the hips, though, still handling you gently like porcelain he places you in his lap. Your thighs squared his hips in, with you against his broad chest. He realizes what he had done in the heat of the moment, and his face turns a deeper shade of red. "S-sorry, honey, I-I don't know what came over me." He quickly says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Hearing how sweet Chris sounded and how reddened his face was, you smiled softly. Pulling away from his neck, your eyes soften again. "Aw, it's okay, babe. No need to apologize to me over something like that." You reassure him, cupping his face in your hands. Your palms brush against his cheeks, the stubble on his beard tickling lightly against your skin.

His eyes glance at your lips, then back into yours. His own lips try to form words until you pull him for another round of kisses. You feverishly pepper kisses all over his face, making rounds and leaving small faint imprints of the lip balm you wore on his features. Your lips linger on the corners of his lips before you plant them softly on his. Chris sighs softly into the kiss, slowly pressing your hips down against his so you aren't awkwardly caging him in with your thighs. Even in a position like this, he still prioritized your comfort over his.

His hands rest on your hips again, relaxing like you requested him to as you do your work. You really meant it when you told him to relax. Your hands pull away from his face, placing them on his shoulders, your thumbs brush against the base of his neck. Chris leans into the kiss gently, giving you an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue darts in and out of your mouth, still handling you softly as your shared kiss becomes more heated. One of his hands holds you in place by the back of your head, his fingers brush through your hair as he (somewhat) hungrily makes out with you.

He doesn't remember the last time he kissed you either. He missed the way you tasted. Chris wanted to change that, too.

Whenever he was on a video call with you, that thought lingered in the back of his mind. The way your lips tasted on his. His thoughts pooled into a puddle at first. In the back of his mind. That puddle has grown into another body of water entirely. Something much bigger.

Finally, he breaks the kiss, breath hot on your skin as he pulls away. The reddish tint that spread across his now, lip balm stained face slowly went down as he looked down at you. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer for a hug.

"I love you, honey. Don't know what I'd do without kissing those lips of yours." He murmurs against your skin, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your neck softly. Open-mouthed kisses trail up your neck, his stubble brushing against your soft flesh. You chuckle softly, feeling the stubble against your neck. "I love you too, dear. That tickles." You comment as his kisses linger on your skin.

A small laugh leaves Chris as he pulls away from your neck after peppering kisses on it. One of his hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against one of your cheekbones. "You really are the sweetest thing, huh?" He says in a soft tone as he looks at you with the most love filled expression you've seen. He really did love you.

Chris Redfield, the man with a heart for a brain, had his eyes set on you. And only you.

#chris redfield x you #chris redfield x reader #re8 chris redfield #chris redfield #resident evil #resident evil fluff #resident evil angst #<3

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cenorii · 2 months

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And here we are again… RE9 theory

It's time for another theory! I'll be writing these right up until the release of RE9, so apologies if you're tired of speculation. I had a theory about this Wesker concept once before, but it came out too vague + I tied the concept to RE4R, but it never made it into the game. So here's a new theory that has captured my brain.

What if, this concept never belonged to re4r? What if it showed up in early development of re9? Let me explain.

Imagine that Wesker is alive in re9. You can imagine the importance of keeping such a news secret, because it is quite a shocking information for fans. If this is the main intrigue in re9, the game would lose it if information about Wesker leaked to the public. If you were the designers and developers, you wouldn't let such news get out of the organization any way. So, put yourself in the shoes of a Capcom employee? Let's move on.

Suddenly such an important detail is leaked by Wesker's voice actor and your intrigue risks becoming public, the game will lose half of its interest without keeping Wesker a secret. You, as a developer\designer need to solve something, somehow fix the situation so that no one will know about the return of this character in the new game.

Then you make a GENIAL decision, setting your sights on re4r, which is in the middle of development. You decide to add this Wesker design to re4r to ward off all suspicion and get out of the disadvantage. Well done, you succeeded in fooling the fandom, now everyone is convinced that this concept was originally made for re4r.

It would seem that everything is fine, no one will know the truth until the re9 release happens, but… Wesker's concept never showed up in re4r. That image is not inside the game or in the concept book. We, the players, are left to assume that this concept was trivially not intended for re4r.

To confirm this theory, I'll ask you to pay attention to a few details - the face (1), the hair (2) and the hand (3). 1. The face, to be honest, could be anything on these concepts, because they are made sometimes before the studio finds the right actor to give the appearance to the character. But I'm left wondering if his face here is taken from re5 and yet looks much older. If this was for re4r, wouldn't Wesker look younger? 2. His hairstyle deviates a lot from the usual style that every game has. Capcom couldn't change Wesker's hairstyle for the REMAKE of the game, because it's an important part of it. Changing his hairstyle is tantamount to removing his sunglasses. But that kind of hair is acceptable for a new game. I assume this is how his new style was planned for the future in which he is alive (?). If you've ever seen the "early" versions of re4r, you probably know that in them Wesker has that exact weird hairstyle, which Leon also has in the "hero" skin. I believe that when Capcom added the "hero" hairstyle to Wesker, they were trying to make him look even more like the concept to minimize information leaks among the staff.

3. In none of the games did Wesker suffer an arm injury. In Code Veronica, his hand was set on fire, but the wound is not serious and Wesker is able to heal his wounds in SECONDS. It doesn't make sense to emphasize his wound for a Code Veronica concept. It also doesn't make sense to do a wound for re4r, because in the original Wesker never left his chair at all, and in the remake he didn't get into any serious fights. This wound is something new that hasn't happened yet, but one day will. In all the games, Wesker heals any injuries quickly, but at the end of re5 he took too much damage, so he probably lost some of his strength, causing him to keep his wounds for a long time.

That's the kind of thoughts that visit me when I see this image but don't see it inside re4r. If it's a "discarded" concept, it too should appear officially, like Ada's concept for re8 that was never added to the game.

Thanks for reading, really looking forward to re9 to see how far I was from the truth. (Help me. I'm going crazy.)

#resident evil #rebhfun #ada wong #albert wesker #resident evil theory #resident evil 9 #resident evil 4

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Anonymous: Hey Pookie ✨💕 I was wondering if I could put in a request of the RE8 ladies reaction to Top!reader whose usually pretty quiet and collected, saying “those cute noises you’re making, is driving me crazy” while using the strap 😳 and just looking/acting feral af. Much loves💋

Hell yeah! Let’s get into it!

Alcina:

Now, I hc Alcina as being a power bottom, but… I also think she would enjoy subbing every now and then.

When you use the strap on her, she is so overwhelmed by the pleasure. It’s all she can do to keep her eyes from rolling back into her head.

When you get super into it, your whole attitude and mannerisms change.

Alcina loves when you take charge. It’s a nice change of pace.

You are very demanding and make sure Alcina does what she’s told under no uncertain terms.

When you get like this, Alcina just finds you so attractive. She’ll be your sub anytime, just don’t tell anyone or you’re dead.

Donna:

Okay, Donna would be in heaven if you use the strap and get kind of feral.

She is her happiest when you praise her and getting to hear you do it while you’re so far gone? That’s her dream.

Tying her down is also a huge turn on. She loves how completely you dominate her.

Donna lets out the cutest whines while you rut into her and you can’t help but to comment on them sometimes.

“Listen to all those pretty sounds you make. All for me, babe?” You tease and start thrusting harder.

Donna frantically nods her head and bites her lip in ecstasy.

Donna is always so satisfied when you take her this way.

You feel pretty great afterward too.

Miranda:

When you first begin to show some real feral energy in the bedroom, Miranda gets quite excited.

She knows how much you’re enjoying yourself and it makes her feel good.

She encourages you and now you feel so honored that Miranda lets you order her around.

Watching Miranda’s face as she orgasms is like admiring art. Her beautiful features finally relax into pure pleasure. It’s amazing.

You were a bit embarrassed after you came down off of your high the first time you took charge, but Miranda captured your face in her hands and told you how much she loved it. You were stunned.

Now, even though Miranda still very much loves topping from the bottom, she is all too happy to let you take the reins for a while.

Bela:

Bela just wants a top who tells her what to do. Simple as that.

Also, compliments do wonders on her. She has a huge praise kink in my opinion.

One of Bela’s favorite ways to have sex is with you using the strap. It just feels so good to her.

She lives to hear all of the dirty things you say. To her, that’s one of the hottest parts.

When you cup her face and tell her that you like the soft whines she makes… She comes almost instantaneously.

Bela will do whatever you want her to do. It makes her feel so useful to be of service.

She was a blushing mess the entire next day after you two made love for the first time. You made all of her dreams come true and it’s one of her most precious memories.

Cassandra:

While Cass had to come around to the idea of you being in charge… She loves it.

Being taken by you with the strap feels so naughty to her and she loves it.

She has never relinquished so much control to a partner before, but you have opened up so many possibilities to her.

Cass expresses herself through sex, and this is one of the biggest ways she can show you that she trusts you.

When you praise the cute little noises that she makes… She has never come so hard or fast. She didn’t think she was really into that before, but something about the way you reassure her makes her feel safe and loved.

Sometimes you have to tie Cass down so she doesn’t rip you to shreds by accident in her lust-fueled state. Honestly, that just turns her on more.

Daniela:

Dani loves when you praise basically anything she does, but hearing you do it while you’re so feral does something to her.

She is so willing to try anything new with you, sometimes it works sometimes not, but you topping and using the strap? Her new favorite thing.

She loves when you get so carried away that you start speaking without even thinking. Some of the dirty stuff you come up with loops in her brain on repeat for the next few days after a good sex session.

Dani knows that she’s done a good job when you start getting lost in your pleasure. It makes her feel good.

Dani loves to cuddle with you afterward and listen to you whisper about how well she did during the deed. While she loves the feral version of you, she also loves the compassionate and soft side of you.

Masterlist

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solarmidnight · 4 months

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Chreon Fic Rec List!

As promised, here is my Chreon fic rec list. Please leave a comment and kudos to show these authors some love!

If you are a fanfic author and find your fic on this list and you'd like it removed, please message me and I will remove it immediately.

Please make sure to read the tags for each fic for warnings/triggers.

Be My Remedy by tirsynni (8K)

When Leon agrees to do a favor for Chris, he should have expected everything to go to hell. At least this time he isn't alone when the mission is done.

Persona Non Grata by Yuu_chi (26k)

A no strings attached arrangement with the love of your life seems like a good idea right up until you realize he's in love with somebody else.

you don't fare well without me by realpoutydadsurvives (23k)

Leon shuddered a breath out of his frozen lungs and asked numbly, “Why do you hate me?” There was a quiet more invasive than the deadly silence of the world beyond the walls protecting them and Leon hated himself for being so stupid— stupid fucking Kennedy saying shit he wasn’t supposed to say— fumbling for a way to cover up his fuck up, when Chris’s low voice broke the silence, saying, “I don’t hate you, Leon. I never have.” “Liar,” Leon accused softly into the darkness of their warm refuge. “You’re a f-fucking liar.”

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) by fonulyn (note: past relationship Piers/Leon) (34k)

In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. “Leon, I…” Chris started, suddenly forgetting every single word he’d prepared. “Piers. He…” he trailed off, and risked a glance at Leon, who was standing there like a statue. It was like he wasn’t even breathing, with the way he was staring at Chris. “He saved my life. He saved Sherry. And he saved Jake. Hell, he probably saved the whole world, but he—” “Don’t.” - Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway.

Chris by Any Other Name by leftid (30k)

“Christopher Adam Redfield,” the rookie said, admonishingly. “You clean up your mess this instant.” “Who?” was Chris’ reply. ———————— Leon Scott Kennedy takes pity on Christopher ‘No-Middle-Name’ Redfield, and spends the next several years they know each other trying to find one. Technically it’s a series of 26 drabbles spanning from RE1 to RE8. A small line of plot managed to sneak into this episodic series.

Cocksucker by r3zuri (note: also features Krauser/Leon) (12k)

When Leon is ten, he tells his parents that girls are gross and he’s never getting married. They tell him he’ll change his mind when he’s older.

Collide by NovelNormandy (8k)

“Oops,” Chris says and Leon huffs a surprised laugh, now using his grip on Chris’s arm and the back of his neck to help hold his weight. “Sorry.” Leon shrugs, looking back at him. “It’s from IKEA.” “So what do I owe you, like 38 bucks?” Leon adjusts his hold on Chris, wrapping his legs firmly around the other man’s hips. “Can think of another way you can get me back.”

Welcome Back by nanaa127 (5k)

After an extended mission, Leon unexpectedly shows up at a conference Chris is attending. Chris is happy to see him. Very, very happy.

New Rookie by leonsknife (6K)

There's a new rookie at the R.P.D. and he's caught Chris' attention.

who am i after tasting you? by chthonicheart (38K)

“I fear the entire floor might have heard us last night,” Chris starts. Leon’s ears start ringing. What? “Yeah, I know. The server told me to tell you he gives us his ‘sincerest congratulations.’” “Christ,” Leon mutters, mostly to himself. “If only this complimentary breakfast came with complimentary mimosas.”

One Tomorrow at a Time by Requiem (37K)

During the fight with Arias, Leon gets infected and turns into a B.O.W. Chris is not giving up on him that easily.

as i drown in irresistible love by FireandLightning (5K)

It's a late night at the BSAA offices when Chris receives a text from Leon containing a photo of Leon himself next to... Chris can get very, very jealous of people flirting with Leon sometimes. Leon knows just how to turn that jealousy to his advantage, especially for when he wants to get literally demolished and punished suitably by Chris Redfield.

#resident evil #chreon #leon kennedy #chris redfield #chris x leon #chreon recs #fic recs

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valleynix · 6 months

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How I Would Have Written Resident Evil: Village

let me preface this by saying a few things: i am slightly tipsy as i write this, so i apologize for any misspellings, incorrect lore, or things not articulated well. i also do not hate Ethan nor the original story of RE8, but i do think there was a lot of wasted potential and unnecessary plot holes

moving on, under the cut

i'll start off by saying that i loved Biohazard. it's genuinely one of my favorite games and the atmosphere is done so well. i love the horror, the mix of action, and the genuine fear you can feel as you run around, searching for answers.

Village did not have this, and it was a massive disappointment, as was the game itself, overall. i do still love it and it'll always be one of my favorites, but Capcom fumbled hard with the plot and the general story.

let's start off with this: in my own little fantasy land where Capcom doesn't hate women (joke), Mia would have been the protagonist in Village. think about how well the story could have gone between her knowledge from the Connections, her unknown relationship with Miranda, the fact she likely would have been struggling to actually fight (just like Ethan should've), and how much different her interactions would be.

i'm genuinely so tired of seeing husbands and/or fathers searching for their lost wife and/or child in horror games. appeal to a different audience!!! where's my mother searching for her lost child, taken by Eldritch horrors???

anyway, i won't be super detailed, but we'll say Mia is the protagonist and Ethan is sidelined :3

throughout the game, i personally would have made it much more obvious that the lords are indeed a family. like, i thought it was obvious enough, but apparently lots of people in this fandom didn't get the memo?? so i would make it more apparent.

and just like i mentioned in the one video i'd already made on this (kinda), i would have changed the lords' appearances and their deaths, pretty much meaning that only Donna (maybe) would have been killed. everyone else would have just been something for her to escape from.

(i'm sorry this isn't super detailed. i don't want it to turn into an eight hour essay, which i may do for a video later on, but anyway)

i will say that i probably would have changed the beginning sequence and made it more mother-daughter focused before Rose is taken. like, imagine Rose being kidnapped right from under Mia's nose without all the brutality and shooting, as comedic as that was, once you knew. the whole thing with Chris not telling Ethan what was going on was probably the dumbest thing in these games and i will forever stand by that.

so, we'll just say that Miranda somehow finds a way to subdue Mia long enough to kidnap baby Rose, and Mia wakes up cold and alone and has to follow a barely-there trail of footprints and feathers that eventually lead her to the village and the horrors within

i also probably would have kept the game during nighttime or early morning, simply because of how terrifying that would be. it's not as fun when you can blatantly see the mutants trying to stalk you (ahem. lycans.)

at this point, Rose is taken and we now have an angry mother on our hands that is very wary of what's going on around her, but now knows that Miranda is a culprit (because in my mind, Miranda has no real reason to hide from Mia, and came to her in her true form). this would leave the audience to question what she really knows and what she's been hiding, and while it would create skepticism, it would also generate curiosity.

Mia traverses the village in relative darkness, led only by the moon's light (hehe symbolism) and the occasional torch. she searches the village for any inhabitants, and while she mostly finds blood and corpses, she also finds a group of people still surviving and untrusting of her.

i think the scariest thing would be that every time Mia progresses and comes back to the village, more people are missing and she finds out rather quickly that it's Miranda's doing. this would leave a sense of fear within her: Miranda is watching and waiting, she is causing Mia distress and threatening her without outright doing anything, letting her know she is unsafe and alone without ever laying a hand on her.

we'll say she goes to Donna's first, under the impression that the hermit dollmaker could have taken Rose per Miranda or she's just being mislead by Miranda posing as a villager (or even the witch lady). from there, she's forced through hallucinations, vivid fabrications of Rose and Ethan, all while struggling to see what is real and what's made up.

she finds out that Rose isn't at the Beneviento Estate, but now, Donna isn't letting her leave. she's not allowed to let her visitors through those doors, saying something similar (though perhaps slightly more afraid) to, "Don't leave... I can't let you." this may hint at the fact that Donna herself does not want to hurt Mia, but cannot let her leave.

Donna's boss fight consists of hallucinations and fabrications, and Mia "dies" when she succumbs to one and doesn't realize what it actually is. there is no "monster" in this section, but it's probably one of the scariest parts, as it takes place throughout the blackened estate and the dolls are, in fact, still moving and making little noises.

Mia escapes somehow, and when she returns to the village, she overhears a conversation from Miranda and someone else (perhaps Rednic?) basically hinting at the megamycete and the ritual and what needs to be done. this begins the plot of finding out what the fuck is going on and where the hell is her daughter, which she believes will be found together.

(sad mother moments, of course. i'd make them tearjerking.)

Mia then finds herself stumbling to Moreau's reservoir, cold and angry, and from here, she starts to realize just how deep Miranda's corruption really goes and how much danger she's actually in. in her mind, prior to this, she thought Miranda was under some kind of control or that she was simply a lackey in a larger scheme of things.

after all, the Miranda she knew was much different than this one, much less angry and violent. Mia doesn't recognize this woman any longer, and she begins to find herself very afraid of what she's gotten herself into, though she doesn't regret it.

Mia hears Moreau's pleas for his mother to help him, to be proud of him, to notice him, and all Mia can feel is the heartbreak of a mother watching this child throw a tantrum for his mom's attention. she tries to kill him, but in the end, she finds herself out of ammo and cornered and freezing her ass off, as well as injured from wounds so graciously gifted to her by lycans and the varcolac.

she escapes, leaves Moreau to his cries and his desperation, and at this point, Mia wonders just how much farther she can go until she collapses. she remembers those little moments with Rose when everything was starting to look up and when she thought her life was going to be normal again, and for a time, she fades into unconsciousness.

when she wakes, it's eerily quiet, and she knows she needs to leave. after more of the villagers go missing and they mention laughing and screaming from the castle, Mia decides she will go there next in her attempt to find Rose and take her away from this fucked up place, get her out of Miranda's grasp before she can do god knows what with her.

the castle is... eerie, yes, but not quite as dangerous as she had been expecting. she meets the Dimitrescus and she's most likely flirted with a bit (as they tend to do), and because Mia is a woman, her pleas are heard and she is allowed to speak, if only for a moment. they come to find that Mia is only there for her daughter and she will gladly leave once she's found, but they're under orders from Miranda now to keep Mia alive (wink wonk).

that doesn't stop them from chaining her up and giggling as they leave, as they did before. i'd make the castle much darker and make more noises throughout the halls, like footsteps or quiet laughter, maybe some soft clanging or things slightly being moved, like vases or chairs, only for there to be nothing.

it's creepy, but there's nothing outright dangerous until Mia finds herself cornered in the kitchens with a very angry Bela now out for blood. she holds back only a little during this little spat, but eventually, it gets to the point that Mia shoots open the window and only distracts Bela before she runs and manages to get away.

(it's now a safe room for her, as Bela would have run away when her weakness was exposed and warmed up, bruised ego be damned. she'll just regroup with her sisters and go from there).

i think the phone call scene would still happen, but it would be a little different. at the very least, it would still show that Miranda does not care about the lords as much as she claimed to and cares more about the ritual and ceremony, but now Lady Dimitrescu is pissed and wants Mia out of her castle before she can actually kill one of her daughters.

(i like to think Bela and/or Cassandra would be in the room, quietly observing, and if the player looks away long enough, looking back would show one or both of them staring right at Mia before quickly looking away. you know the drill).

Mia somehow finds a way to sympathize with Lady Dimitrescu, perhaps because she refuses to kill Daniela while the former is nearby or something, and she ends up escaping (though it's obvious the action is allowed, as Lady Dimitrescu is blatantly keeping her distance but ensuring Mia is chased out. yada yada).

more creepy village stuff happens, more fights with lycans, blah blah. i'm not entirely sure what to do here, but i'll think more on it.

the factory would be last, and i think it would be incredibly interesting with Heisenberg likely knowing that Mia and Miranda had a past together. he might try to use that against her and try to convince her that Rose is their only hope for being free (maybe playing into what she'd seen with his siblings), but he's ultimately denied again.

Mia doesn't know this dude, doesn't know his true intentions or if teaming up with him will guarantee her death at the price of his freedom. everything she'd gone through would have been for nothing, and so, she refuses.

i think the factory would have been creepier if the mechanical noises weren't so loud and in-your-face, but that's just me. keeping the lights low and the enemies quieter but still lit up would have been great, but oh well.

after making it through the factory and proving how strong she really is (never doubt a mother), she is, once again, faced with the opportunity to join Heisenberg or join the dead. she denies him once more, manages to escape the factory (and Sturm) as metal flies by and she's probably pierced a few times, and when she eventually becomes free, she just collapses in the middle of a dusk-lit village.

she's been through so much, lost everything dear to her, and she still hasn't found answers or her daughter. she begins to wonder if she ever left that first hallucination at Lady Beneviento's but she's too tired to care-

and then the moldy tendrils begin breaking from the ground, near enough to terrify her but far enough to know that she's not in immediate danger. she hears laughter and searches through the mold (which she comments on), vision blurry, only to completely freeze when she finds Miranda standing near one of the tendrils, watching her with a fond smile on her face.

this is all i've thought about (because the ANGST of seeing your, at the very least, old coworker/friend who is now a CULT LEADER and trying to kill you...) but i'll probably expand way more on it if i ever do a video on it. i didn't want this to turn into a massive ramble (even if it already did), so i'll pause here for now.

i didn't hit everything i wanted to and i'm sure i'm missing a LOT of points, but these were all the major things i would have changed or implemented. i am very tired and tipsy, and i do apologize for anything that doesn't sound quite right or that's left with like... no other point or explanation. i'll do better next time <33

#i've had a rough few days im sorry #today was so frustrating and im just tired of being a person #but here are my thoughts #my incoherent thoughts anyway #enjoy <3333 #im sorry if they're hard to understand <33333 #i'll do better

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ventiswampwater · 1 year

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⚠️ WIP’S??? FIVE OF THEM??? FROM ME??? UNPRECEDENTED 💀

This is by no means all of the WIP’s that are lurking around my fic folder......but these are the only ones that have been plotted out to such a degree that I KNOW they’ll eventually be fully fledged fics. (Other, ephemeral fic ideas revolve around The Driller Killer from SPM2 and Lady D from RE8.....but......we shall see......)

If you peek under the cut, there are a handful of excerpts (of varying lengths) from all five of these! All of these are NSFW fics, but not every excerpt is smutty!

⚠️ mentions of animal death/slaughterhouse conditions

The killing served a purpose. It was the only way to get back to his table where he could sink into the movement and the cutting and the blades.

All you have to be is useful, Tommy.

If you’ve been useful then you’ve done enough. There’s nothing more you had to do. There was only one way to go when you stood on the ramp, and it was here. The cattle never understood that. They came because they had to.

For the first five years, there were always new faces to replace the old ones, new hands to help hoist the meat off the hooks. Snatches of conversation in his ears, the metal slam of lunch pails. People were always talking about how things changed, but it all seemed the same as it ever was. You just had to be willing to work, even when it was hard. Not everyone could do that.

Things only die if you let them—beyond that was dust and dirt and sky.

Each year, the drought held Fuller in her cracked, bleeding palm. She was the determined sort and the town fit so well in her grip. The crowds around the tables thinned, the timecards on the wall grew scattered and few. Throughout all those years, the fifth slot from the top remained empty.

Ten years is a long time to go without rain.

⚠️ voyeurism, stupid deep thotz from goofy dumb frog man

You’re alone out here—at least, you think you are. It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? Comforting, warm—not unlike all the buttery yellow light spilling out of your wide-open windows.

You’re off the beaten path and there’s nothing to fear out here, no one to hide from. Nothing but the dark to watch as you reach up to fish in the cupboards, your shirt riding up your stomach. And the dark does watch you—it, and everything in it.

A woman alone in a house in the middle of the night. They’ve been telling stories about you for years. People have seen it countless times, stuffed into air-conditioned theaters, watching imaginary versions of this scene a thousand times over. If they exited the theater they could find her on the newsstand—she splatters the headlines, her name cried out over police sirens. They stay in the theater because reality isn’t what they want, not now. They want her. You, she, the woman past the glass—an unknowing siren. Mythic. The audience knows she isn’t really alone. They grip onto their popcorn buckets with greasy hands, the air thick with the imagined tension. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, hums along with the jingle on the television.

She’s beautiful. She’s innocent. She’s on the edge of so much danger. It’s sitting out there in the dark, staring at her through the window.

Maybe, through the lens of the pimply teenage boy, his hand fishing lecherously into his popcorn bucket, you like it. The woman in the house keeps her windows open as if she knows she has an audience, like she wants them to see her. They want to look in and she obliges. Maybe. There’s truth in that, truth in every adolescent fantasy.

You wander around your empty house, waiting for a man who won’t come. His appearance has been…interrupted.

Leslie peers around the tree, knocking his sickle against the wood in anticipation.

⚠️ references to canon violence/trauma

“What are you going to school for?”

“Um. I’m not sure anymore.” She sips at her coffee. “It was Marketing and Advertising, but I don’t know if I’m still doing that.”

“Not your thing anymore?”

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head, huffing out a bemused hiss of breath, squinting out at the square. She sits with the words in her mouth for a second. “Sometimes I feel like it is, like, it really is, still. And then, like, I don’t. Like, I used to make all kinds of things. And I just…can’t, anymore. And when I do, it’s…different. It doesn’t feel like me anymore.”

“What changed?”

I lost some people. I put off a lot of stuff. I told her to tell him the truth, but I never managed to do that myself. Little hypocritical, Carly.

My finger’s gone. They never found it.

His pockets had been empty.

“I’ve had a weird year.” She looks over at you, staring at the buttons on your coat. “Like, really weird.”

“I’ve had weird years.”

“Yeah, but…uh.” She smiles at your hands. Your nails are a deep blue today. “Mine…was definitely weirder.”

⚠️🔥tiny snippet of smut, mommy kink + light puppy play

“Hold on.” Tiffany pulls back, pursing her lips. Tilting your chin up, her forehead wrinkles as she scans your face. She snorts out an incredulous giggle. “Is that my lipstick?”

“You, uh. You left it in my car. I…borrowed it.”

“You little thief!” She grins, her eyes alight with manic glee. “Always acting like you’re so innocent! Who knows what else you’ve snatched?”

Giggling, she drags her thumb down your lips, smearing the lipstick onto your chin. You gaze up at her, swallowing nervously.

“Oh god, you’re a mess, baby.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth, shaking her head. "You stealing my panties too? Taking ‘em home to rub that nasty little pussy on?”

"Uh—”

She grinds down on your lap, beaming. Holding onto your chin, she mashes your lips together, moving your head up and down in an affirmative nod.

“Yep, princess! I know you are.” She cackles, the tip of her tongue peeking from between her teeth. “That’s pathetic.”

“Mommy—”

“Watch it, pipsqueak.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, regarding you with twinkling eyes. “Anyway, puppies don’t talk, right?“

You nod enthusiastically, blinking up at her.

⚠️🔥tiny snippet of smut, light degradation, depersonalization + lost autonomy

The discomfort crests over and suddenly you feel loose and pliant, eagerly rocking back against the thickness of his fingers. It’s just another thing you were made for, just something else to give to him over and over.

Bo laughs. You can hear the grin that’s plastered across his face.

“Oh, she likes it.” His voice pulls another moan from your mouth. “This ain’t natural, baby.”

Of course it isn’t. None of this is. Wax carrots, stores full of beetles and rot. Everything in this town was the idea of something else. Things that used to be other things, left to decay and waste away behind glass. And you’re one of those things—you always were.

“You ‘member when I met ya’, darlin?”

The rest of the world keeps moving, thundering away. At least, it must be. The people that come to town and never leave came from somewhere, didn’t they? The stripped corpses of cars on the side of the street are reminders that life exists outside of this place.

There are cars in other towns, parked on different streets. There are places without dust. There are always other futures. Sometimes you turn down the wrong road, and sometimes you die. Sometimes you don’t. That’s just the way these things go.

Here, who are you?

Another person at the wrong place at the wrong time—the wrong face, the wrong mouth. Something just wrong enough about you that you can’t leave. For how long, you’re not entirely sure. You’re running on borrowed time, and everything ends here eventually.

There, what were you?

The world keeps turning without you. It wasn’t going to stop. It doesn’t know of this place. It doesn’t know about you. It used to, maybe. But it forgot.

Does it matter?

To be kept forever, preserved here. It’s better to be something than nothing, isn’t it? When they touch you, you’re an idea. You’re a dream. Dead to the world, fucking yourself back on his fingers. It feels good, it feels bad. Something that is nothing that is something again. That’s the point.

“Don’t you be selfish, now!” Bo’s voice cuts through the haze of your brain. He grabs onto your hair, tugging your head up. “Thought we were showin’ Vincent a good time, darlin’?”

#sam speaks #my writing #<-I need to come up w/some kinda tag for incomplete fics/wip stuff methinks #all of these excerpts are v v rough but they are. the LEAST rough. of the rough draft sdjfhjhdfsjhdfs

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wintersandthebeast · 1 year

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49. Waterfall

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Link to Master List

I’ve read these things a million times, Eva. I don’t feel like I’m any closer to figuring out how to do this.

I may be able to help. It’s hard to find memories past a…certain length of time, but deep in the consciousness, memories of the actual rituals of resurrection might exist. Memories from spectators.

Can I go that deep?

Perhaps, but it is dangerous, and there is no need. I can store the memories for you, in a crystal. Then you can hold it, and…experience it, as you have, other memories. Observing is far better than reading.

-----------

There was no hesitance this time from Ethan as he allowed Heisenberg to pull him up on the horse behind him, and no hesitance as he positioned himself behind the brunette, arms wrapping around the other’s waist. He didn’t see Karl’s smirk as he lifted the reins and the horse cantered past the line of wagons.

Heisenberg rode to the front, then back again, not attempting to slow the spirited horse as he gave the thumbs up to the wagons. Ethan was blushing when he saw many faces upon them, and he was surprised again at Heisenberg’s odd charisma among some groups. The Lord seemed comfortable atop the gigantic horse, leading a caravan into the dark forest.

The first wagon began to roll, the horse pulling it moving steadily down the dirt road. Karl’s mount slowed to a trot, and the brunette steered toward the Duke’s carriage.

“Hi, Rosemary!” Ethan said to the wide-eyed toddler, and she screeched from Zoe’s lap. As Ethan continued to coo over the girl, who was bundled in a white fur wrap, Zoe called to Karl. “How uh..how is Ethan?”

“He’s a goddamned gigglin’ idiot,” Heisenberg replied, which made Zoe laugh a little too loud. She continued to laugh at Ethan’s withering stare toward his companion, and the Duke chimed in as his wagon rolled slowly.

“How quickly things change, eh, Ethan?” the large man said with a playful tone in his voice. His head canted toward the blond. “All for the best.”

He couldn’t help but smile, though he felt strange--different, yet again. If the mold consciousness was a multilayered onion, then so too was Ethan, and he had crossed another layer today. Fully into madness, he figured. Moving to Romania was supposed to be a necessity, it was supposed to be protective. Instead he’d been used. His daughter, used as bait.

And now he was here, in the remains of the Village of Shadows, having spent the last month brushing up on his knowledge of medieval revival ceremonies and falling in love with…among other things, a descendant of a King. Trekking through the haunted forest to find a magic spot alongside whatever fairies were supposed to come out tonight.

After pausing beside every other slowly rolling wagon, Heisenberg steered them back to the front of the procession, where they rode among several other riders. The lights from the bright wagon shone on the road, lighting their way, while the horses cast long shadows that fell in front of them. Ethan’s heart rate increased as the valley disappeared behind them, trees looming. He’d never been down here, not since…that day. Karl came down to work on the road from time to time, but Ethan had not wished to literally or figuratively walk that road.

His arms tightened around Heisenberg’s stomach, and the other slid his hand over Ethan’s forearm as he had last time. Heisenberg was speaking to the men in Romany, and Ethan had no hope of understanding it, still. The engineer translated over his shoulder, as one of the men nodded. “We’re goin’ on ahead. Make sure the bitch isn’t up to anything.”

“Wouldn’t you need your hammer if she was?”

Heisenberg seemed insulted when he replied, “Yeah…an’ I can pull it to me.”

So he could. Ethan remembered one of their first meetings, when Heisenberg had snapped at Dimitrescu. The hammer had rang then, snapping into his open palm from only several feet away, but it was still impressive. Less impressive when Ethan had to deal with all of their bullshit…but, still.

“Very Thor of you,” Ethan quipped, and Heisenberg snorted. His only other response was to urge the horse into a gallop, and the pair pulled away from the group. The blond closed his eyes, feeling the cool night air on his face. He couldn’t see well here, and he doubted the horse could either. Heisenberg alone knew the way, and saw it where others did not.

---------------

The bitch didn’t make any sort of appearance. The road hugged the river on and off over the span of several miles, but Ethan could see little more than broken shards of moonlight on water. Finally the road sloped downward and craggy mountains rose up all around them. Ethan stared up at the jagged lips of the canyon, trying to picture how it had looked before the explosives.

This area was mostly intact as well, as Chris’s focus had been the factory and village where the mutamycete sprang up to heed Miranda’s call. This path had formerly led to Donna’s home, but most of the paths over the mountains, like the one he’d taken, were gone. He could still see the ghosts of wooden footbridges, mostly broken, swaying from cliff sides like broken arms.

The last part of the journey led directly into the river; Heisenberg had created a road that ran down into a shallow ford. He could hear the roar of the waterfall ahead of them as the horse stepped carefully into the water. Ethan stared down at the water, hoping that it would do its job of not only helping them conduct a bunch of crystals into a human form, but also keep Miranda away. Save for the whole minor almost-drowning incident, the day had been lovely. It would be nice to close on an easy note.

The horse carried them upstream for another hundred yards before they rounded one last sheer rock face, to see the hidden lagoon and base of the falls. Ethan stared, without care at how dumbfounded his expression was. It was breathtaking. The fall created a wave of mist that fogged up around the base of the area. A large shallow pool stretched out in front of them, with plenty of room for multiple wagons along the rocky banks.

Then Ethan’s heart flew into his throat when his scan of the moonlit clearing illuminated something he hadn’t anticipated seeing. It was high above him, blending in with the steep cliffs so well that he’d missed it at first. He was shocked that it still stood. The Beneviento home. He swallowed, feeling a chill run down his spine.

Karl seemed to sense the change in Ethan’s demeanor, and he glanced over his shoulder, following the blond’s gaze. “I expect she didn’t uh…give you much of a welcome,” he said awkwardly.

Ethan swallowed, and Karl tried again as he led the horse toward the yawning shore. “What’d you see in her basement?”

“A…baby,” he said, blood turning to ice in his veins, and Ethan’s frown reached a new, startling level. “I guess you could call it that.”

“Ah, yeah,” Karl said flippantly. “Guess you an’ her share that particular uh...trauma…made it easy to use.”

“What?” Ethan snapped, and Karl paused in his own motion to dismount.

“I just meant.” The engineer did dismount, and held out a hand for Ethan. “She c-could make people see things, but uh…changed the hallucinations based on the, uh. Person. That baby w-was, one of Donna’s own…demons. Knowin’ you were lookin’ for your own baby…” Karl gestured vaguely.

The blond was again, unintentionally, sensing the other man’s emotions as he stuttered. His glare cut through the dark like a knife, and Karl drew back in surprise.

“You cared about her,” Ethan said accusatorily. He didn’t know why that was a surprise, but he heard the engineer’s earlier words again. Ugly ass psycho doll.

He had commented on Angie. Not Donna.

He stepped closer to Karl. “You, YOU. Heisenberg, the guy who hated everything about his life and his servitude to Miranda…cared about Donna. The literal most psycho person in this village.”

“Fraid that title goes to Miranda,” Karl said, a bit stunned as he surveyed the blond, the dangerous look crossing his face as his eyes narrowed. “But yeah, I did.”

“Why not recruit her to help you fight the woman who hurt you both?” Ethan was feeling irrational, in fact, he was feeling heated. What the hell? He snapped his mouth closed after the question, warning himself to shut the hell up as his ears reddened.

Karl was not impressed, it was clear by the tone of his voice. He began leading the horse to a nearby patch of soggy grass, where trees sprang up in the hollow. “Because Miranda brainwashed her into thinkin’ she cared about all of us, an’ Donna had to do whatever Miranda said. Killed half her family, other half--” he jerked a thumb up to the waterfall. “Suicide. Parents pulled the kids with ‘em. Donna wasn't ever right after that.”

This shook Ethan and his anger suddenly lifted as he imagined that specific situation, his hazel eyes lifting again to the silhouette of the lonely house. Karl laughed a humorless laugh, and said as he tied the horse, “I know the guy who married a goddamn bioweapon engineer an’ then wrecked the bioweapon into a swamp isn’t lecturin’ me on who I had feelin’s for.”

“No, no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” Ethan was used to apologizing, he’d done it so often with Mia. He gave one more forlorn stare toward the home and then shivered, deciding he was done looking at it for the night. He wrung his hands as he sloshed through shallow, cold water, peering around the area. “What do you think?”

“I think here--” Karl stepped forward and gestured, “is good, nice an’ shallow, but close to the shore. You’ve got this big flat stretch of rock you can put Eveline’s crystal on. Then…what is it? You have to get the mycelium up on it, yeah?”

“Yeah. It can do that easier through water, it moves faster. Though…judging by what I saw Miranda do, it can move anywhere.”

“She’s got about a hundred years on you, though,” Karl acknowledged. He stroked his beard. The sound of approaching hooves echoed through the high canyon walls, and both men turned, seeing the bobbing lights appear around the bend. “Perfect.”

When the engineer moved to pass him, to meet the convoy, Ethan grasped his elbow. “Karl, wait.”

The other turned, expectantly. He exhaled. “Go ahead, Winters.”

“I…understand, I’m not upset.” Only partially true, but he couldn’t justify his own anger, so there was no need for Karl to try to fix it. Ethan himself had been struck by Donna’s beauty, so it was easy to understand at least part of Karl’s fixation. “I just want to know…that's not the reason you want to bring her back, is it?”

“No,” Karl said with ease. Ethan would have to get accustomed to such blunt and simple honesty. He sighed.

----------

The gift-borrowed gift-from the Duke would hopefully insulate the space they were working with, only allowing the mold and mold creatures inside of it to affect each other’s synaptic impulses--for lack of a better term--and create a Miranda-proof workspace. Eva had warned them all that Miranda might appear, ghost-like, as she herself could appear in the presence of crystals. Rosemary alone might have the energy needed to manifest, but it would only be a mirage. Without a physical body, she had no way to cross the realm.

Well, no way except sending other creatures that did have bodies to do her bidding. But, that’s what the rifles were for, right?

Ethan stood out of the water, his back to the falls, as he watched the caravan spread out, the wall of wagons effectively barricading the downstream, and beyond, from this hollow. The group would be insulated, Ethan thought with interest. The darker part of his mind chimed in. Cornered, you mean.

Some brave souls stepped from the wagons and found seats, a few brave souls climbing the moss-covered banks to get a higher vantage point with which to watch. The Gabori men spread out, looking warily around as they sized up the area. Most of the Roma, Ethan noticed, avoided even looking in the direction of Donna’s home. He felt very validated.

Heisenberg donned his leather gloves and then took the box from the Duke, while Zoe and Rosemary approached Ethan. He embraced them both, and then said in a faux-serious tone toward his daughter, “We’ve really gotta work on your bedtime, young lady.”

“It’s only eleven,” Zoe argued. “Shoot, I stayed up later than that to watch the Three Stooges on Wednesday nights. And that was a SCHOOL night, Rose! Don’t let him bully you.”

Heisenberg was dutifully setting up the perimeter without interrupting the trio. Joe approached and began to help. The diameter of the circle they made with the macabre rope was maybe ten feet--plenty of room, Ethan decided, as he surveyed the line. Here, the group would be perhaps fifty feet from the row of wagons and their spectators. Karl returned to the wagons for his hammer, and the box where Eveline’s strangely blueish purple crystal awaited. The box Heisenberg had made for the…specimen? Was insulated itself, to stop Miranda or anyone else from using it. The Duke had instructed them on this, which only made Ethan more curious about his background and intent.

The box was placed on the ground, and Ethan placed it on the flat rock with more tenderness than he anticipated from himself. Without Eveline haunting his dreams for the first time in three years, he felt himself not only sympathetic to what the young girl had to endure, but grateful to her for what she’d done. Eveline, in some way, chose his fate. It wasn’t one he would have ever chosen for himself, but given the circumstances, she had always somehow been on not his side, but…adjacent.

And her powers were here, stored in this stone that glittered in the moonlight. Ethan caressed it solemnly as he leaned forward. Was she in there somewhere? Watching? Or had her consciousness ceased to exist completely? Ethan might have been imagining things, but now in the presence of the lotus, he thought he felt her nearby. Not jeering or screaming with a hateful tantrum.

Had Death changed her too?

He pulled away, wincing in pain, and turned his thumb over. The spot where he’d caressed the stone had sliced him open, and black fluid trickled from his skin.

“Ugh,” Zoe said, as she withdrew other crystals from the box, mostly small ones created by Rosemary, but a few from Ethan and herself as well. “That’s Eveline, all right.”

Ethan laughed, straightening and watching the wound close before his eyes.

“It is,” he agreed, and he paused when saw that a trio of Roma men were starting a fire on one small patch of land nearby that wasn’t waterlogged. They carried torches and wood over from the wagons. “A fire?”

“Part heat, an’...” Heisenberg supplied as he sloshed through the ford, hammer at ease on his shoulder, “Part…..security.” He pointed a thumb at several large canisters of gasoline that were carried over. Ethan realized the fire was in the direct line of the ceremony site.

“Oh, great,” he said sarcastically, “So if we make a wrong move and Miranda pops up, they’re gonna just blow us up?”

“If they need to,” Joe said cheerfully. When Ethan gave him the signature Ethan look, the white-haired man tossed his head back defiantly. “Hell, boy, you’re toughern’ shit, you can handle it.”

“There will BE no explodin’,” Zoe said loudly, rocking Rosemary. “Ever-thin’s gonna go fine.”

“Don’t forget my daughter will be right here,” Ethan said angrily, adjusting the shotgun strap that went over his chest. “And don’t forget that Miranda can’t actually show up, so if you do see her, she’s not really here.”

Joe made a high pitched, skeptical sound, but said nothing. Thunder rumbled overhead, and many eyes turned upward, searching the clear sky for where the sound had originated. Ethan glanced over at Karl, who shook his head, indicating he was not responsible or aware of the origin.

“Let’s do this,” the blond said, patting Zoe on the shoulder. He and Zoe fell into step, moving to face each other with the flat rock, and crystals, between them. They had both watched the preserved memories of this ritual within the mold, and the two exchanged a smile as they prepared to begin. Karl surveyed the circle of crystallized rope on the ground around them, and hesitantly put one foot inside the boundary. This grounded him similarly to the boundary on his property, but he looked uneasily at the river. So much conductive energy, and mold all underneath them.

Would the rope even make a difference?

Rosemary leaned forward, reaching out for one of the crystals on the rock. When Ethan nodded, Zoe set the child down, and--still wrapped in fur--she bent forward to grab the rock. Rosemary babbled to someone unseen, holding the stone up. Just as Ethan smiled, wondering what on earth she was doing, it became clear; Eva appeared, sitting on her haunches, holding not only the crystal but Rosemary’s hand.

“That’s good,” Ethan laughed, and his smile at his daughter was pure pride. “Smart girl.”

Murmurs among the crowd of Roma, some of whom had never seen Eva before, punctuated another rumble of thunder. Karl swung the hammer into the circle, his face containing no trace of the excitement that Ethan or Zoe had.

“Say the word, Papa,” was his only contribution.

----------------------------

note: this story about donna is taken from scrapped concept art and developer notes. highly recommend my fic nothing gold can stay if you'd like to see a young karl and donna.

find it here (I'll post it on twitter in a bit too)

#winters and the beast #karl heisenberg x donna beneviento #karl x donna #donna beneviento

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rallamajoop · 1 year

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Resident Evil Village

So, although Deus Ex: Mankind Divided was (and very much still is) supposed to be next in the gaming queue, I somehow spent Christmas playing Resident Evil 8: Village.

And having now finished this damn game on three different difficulties, developed an addiction to the Mercenaries challenge mode, discovered a host of unexpected feelings about Ethan Winters & family and that Heisenberg bastard, and read a godawful amount of fic… I’m still a little undecided how surprised I should be that it sucked me in so hard.

Because on the one hand, if anything in that crazy franchise was going to get me, clearly it was going to be the one full of vampires and gothic horror tropes (not to mention being set in that one mysterious region of Romania we all know from the Hammer films, where everyone speaks English for no particular reason). Looking back, I’ve been in and out of horror-adjacent fandoms since, oh, about when the first Venom movie came out – maybe this was the next logical step.

On the other hand, it’s an FPS: a genre I only grudgingly came around to at all a matter of months ago. And though my days of saying I don’t do FPS are now undeniably behind me, it’s also a horror game, and (all recent records aside), when it comes to horror games, I am a wimp. The kind of wimp who watched playthroughs of P.T. back in the day going holy fuck I could not manage to walk down a corridor in this shitshow the atmosphere alone would smother me alive. The kind of wimp who noped the fuck out of Portal on the very first level featuring turrets (holy shit, they’re shooting at me? Those are bullet holes in the wall! Is that MY BLOOD on the wall? Oh my god how am I not already dead oh my god) and never came back.

What made the difference this time? Well, apparently my general aversion to shooting people doesn’t so much apply to lycans and zombies, and horror games are much easier to deal with when you’ve already watched a Let’s Play of the whole thing, and know what you’ve signed up for. Or maybe I’m just old and jaded enough that I’m not as easily scared by pixels as I used to be. It certainly helped that Village leans more towards the shallow, action end of the survival horror pool. But as for That One Bit that everyone talks about when they discuss how RE8 made them shit their pants, I can only admit that the other thing I learned about myself watching those playthroughs of P.T. is that ‘screaming mutant foetus monster’ is exactly the point at which my brain gives up on terror and just goes “…well that’s just a bit gauche, isn’t it?” (Don’t talk to me about those don’t-look-away walking dolls from the DLC though. That bit got to me like no screaming foetus ever did.)

No, the really odd thing about me suddenly falling hard for this game is that, well, it didn’t get me at the time. Much as I’ve enjoyed watching apparently the whole rest of the internet being brought together in mutual horniness for the incomparable Lady Dimitrescu, the whole step-on-me-mistress-thing has never really been my jam – and though I did watch that Let’s Play of the full game way back when, nothing about it grabbed me enough to become really fannish about it at the time.

What changed? Well, we can partly blame a couple of youtube channels I’ve been casually following lately by folks who were also big Resident Evil fans. But the tipping point may have been my questionable decision to watch a playthrough of the new Shadows of Rose DLC at exactly the wrong (or perhaps right) time of the month, resulting in me bawling my eyes out and discovering feelings about the Winters family I never knew I had.

All that said, actually buying and playing the base game was one of those random whims, entered into with 0 expectations I was actually likely to finish the thing. I mean, the factory section alone looks like such a slog.

…so it turns out that (putting aside the hassle of navigating the place) the factory can be a ton of fun once you’ve figured out what you’re doing.

What can I say? This is a game truly brimming with personality, the dark-fairytale vibe utterly works, the campy OTT villains are a delight, I will gladly fight anyone trying to tell me Ethan’s a boring nothing of a protagonist – and having had the time to get past the “GDI game is this guy supposed to be a lycan or not? MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND!”-annoyance* that stopped me from enjoying Heisenberg properly while watching the playthrough, this time I fell for him hard (and wound up shipping him with Ethan, so fandom has got me again). The ending delivers, the horror elements are on point, and it’s just damn good fun to play.

Doing my first run on Casual difficulty was my one mistake. It’s the mode most widely recommended to the inexperienced player, but either that’s a recommendation calibrated for folks playing with a controller rather than a keyboard, or all that time playing Deus Ex (which, I remind you, is heavy on stealth takedowns and 3rd-person-cover mechanics that do not apply here at all) prepared me better than I realised, because Casual difficulty bored me. The mechanics, world and story still carried me through, but I did not die a single time that wasn’t thanks to an insta-death mistake. There’s no way to change difficulty mid-game, and you’re far enough in by the time you really get to find out how difficult combat was going to be that I didn’t feel like restarting. But having finished the game, I was hungry for a real challenge.

So this is when I noticed New Game+ was an option – as was unlocking infinite ammo for many weapons – and rationally deciding that replaying on only Standard difficulty with the added advantage of all those upgraded guns wasn’t going to cut it, I jumped difficulties right up to Hardcore mode.

This, too, may have been a mistake. The very first lycan attack had me running to the Internet for advice on how to survive it (it turns out the accepted strategy is basically to just hide in a cellar for as long as possible, then leg it into the next house and climb halfway up a ladder, where you’re very hard to hit). But with that milestone cleared, I found my groove, and had a much better time (though I certainly died a lot more this time through). Even with all the upgrades, it was pretty damn punishing in places – but punishing in the way that forces you to really engage with the mechanics (or at least learn to love the good old ‘set a mine and back away’-strategy). And I’m pleased to say that unlike DX:HR, RE has proper difficulty modes: we’re not just tweaking damage ratios, enemies also get much faster and more aggressive at higher difficulties – not to mention those damn lycan archers now apparently have the accuracy of a sniper.

Having beaten the game on Hardcore, I was pretty well done (there’s an even harder mode, Village of Shadows, but I wasn’t looking for that much punishment). But any lingering doubts about how fully I’d embraced the shooty-bang-fun-times side of Resident Evil gameplay were well and truly put to bed by the time I’d discovered the Mercenaries bonus game.

This mode sets you up with limited weapon selection up against a hoard of easy-to-kill enemies, scoring you higher the longer you can keep a combo going. Again: not the sort of thing I expected to suck me in, but anyone who’s ever watched me play a rhythm game will know that I can be a real sucker for a full-combo challenge. Mechanically, it’s almost the opposite of beating the story on Hardcore, but it forces you to learn layouts of some game areas in ways you never needed to before, and actually seeing numbers for how much damage you’re doing illuminates so many mechanics you were just guessing at.

Better yet, there’s a hoard of stuff you can unlock by playing it, including (as of the DLC!) the ability to play as Heisenberg or Lady Dimitrescu, which is a whole heap of fun in its own right. And if you’re prepared to play long enough to get 25 other achievements (I was), you can even unlock ‘special customisations’ for most of your weapons in the main game – boosting damage even further, or a bunch of other bonuses that I could not resist trying out…

…only, having already beaten the game on Hardcore, there wasn’t much appeal to doing that again, only with less challenge. So… oh fuck, I’m going to play this thing on Village of Shadows difficulty after all, aren’t I?

Honestly: no regrets. Lord knows I’d never survive this mode going on raw (shut up shut up I’M NOT GOING TO TRY), but it’s very doable on New Game+2. And it’s very much the mode for folks who’ve already beaten the game at least twice, because just when you were getting familiar with the story’s pre-scripted roster, this mode mixes it up and throws in new enemies where you don't expect them (and just rarely enough that they’ll always be a surprise). Having trouble with those lycan archers on Hardcore? Well, now there’s more of them, in places you didn’t expect! Had enough trouble escaping Lady D. after she slices off your hand? Ha, now we’ve spawned an extra enemy in the same space, and did we mention that you have no weapons you can use one-handed? (Seriously, good times! And that’s ‘times’, plural, because surviving that one took me a few tries.)

All that said, I’m not sure those ‘special customisations’ were really calibrated for even this difficulty – and they’re vague enough that you’ll find that out the hard way. The magnum’s ‘Extra damage against lycans’-bonus, for example, apparently means ‘can now one-shot even the alfa varcolac miniboss’ (pictured below). And sure, that’s the magnum: but the sniper rifle’s ‘extra damage at range’ can do the same thing. It’s just maybe a bit much.

Honestly, I’d be all for it if the point was to give players who really want that Village of Shadows achievement another way to get it – but then you get to the gauntlet that is the endgame, and all that fancy souped up inventory gets taken away from you for plot reasons.

Actually, I’d put the start of the endgame-gauntlet back at Sturm (last boss of the factory level before Heisenberg), because even though you’ve got your regular guns there, he’s invincible from the front, charges like a mad bull and can apparently target you through solid walls. Then you fight Heisenberg, in the obligatory here-have-a-tank sequence, and neither New Game+ upgrades or special customisations have any effect on your tank. And then you get the section where you have to play as Chris, whose lousy pistol-and-machine-gun arsenal is also unaffected by special customisations (though I can see no good reason why not). And Chris’ section really is a gauntlet, with an uncooperative auto-save, an infinite stream of charging lycans, and another boss fight against some bastard who doesn’t take damage from the front, swinging a giant mace in a tiny arena. All of a sudden, you’re playing the exact same version of this game as someone who never hit New Game + at all.

I died a lot in this section. Seriously, so many times. But I stuck it out, and I gotta say, damn but these higher difficulty modes force you to learn how to play. In case anyone else reading this actually wants some tips: stuck at the Stronghold? The trick is to book it back to the entry passage the moment the first wave starts, maybe drop a mine or two, and use the narrow space for crowd control (same thing works during the second wave – it gets a little less intense from there). Stuck in the factory? Learn to love flash grenades! Sturm? Again: flash grenades! (You would not think a guy with a propeller for a face would be so susceptible, but who am I to argue with results?) Heisenberg? Turns out aiming for those glowing weak points really does make a difference, and your tank can make a MUCH faster dash out of the way of his charge move if you stop firing the machine gun. Chris? God, don’t even get me started on Chris.** (“Oh my god, Chris, your lousy pea-shooter guns have all the stopping power of wet tissue! Get a real gun, you LOSER!”)

After all that, the letdown at the end is that Miranda (the final boss) is kind of a piece of piss. You finally get all your old inventory back, and she takes damage from the front and everything. After dying a stupid number of times reaching every milestone above, Miranda went down in one go. I’d be more unimpressed by this, but after all Ethan’s been through at that point, maybe he kind of deserves it.

Obviously, I had to play Rose’s DLC bonus campaign too, but – much as I loved it for story and atmosphere – it was admittedly less fun to play. That’s probably deliberate: it’s much more down the survival horror end of the action-horror spectrum – aiming is slow and cumbersome, and your options and resources are very limited. Given that you’re playing as a teenage girl rather than a grown man on his second rodeo, that makes a lot of sense… but there’s still not a lot there to have me eager to come back for a replay. (Her final boss battle is a lot more satisfying, though it does suffer from the fact you’re thrown so many new mechanics that just figuring out how you’re supposed to use them is pretty distracting.)

I could go on at this point – as always in new fandom mode, I have so many thoughts on the world, the fandom, the challenge of piecing together the backstory timeline, the possibilities for where this series might go in future, and how poor Mia deserves so much more love than she gets – but that can all wait. The long and short remains: I never would’ve imagined how hard I could get sucked into this game, but I have had such a time learning how wrong I was.

* Look, if a guy who shows up with the lycans, and can apparently command other lycans, is not supposed to be a lycan himself, then maybe think twice before including another giant lycan character who a) wears his coat, b) USES HIS HAMMER and c) never appears on screen at the same time as him. You’ll save so much confusion on the part of your audience, I promise!

** Really? Well, fine.

The game autosaves shortly after you beat the first two varcolacs (I found it helped to go left around the fungus into the field, and use some grenades), and again once you reach the clearing (protip: if you can make it there, everything behind you despawns! There are a couple of real waves of attackers to get through to get there though, plus a slow-but-constantly spawning stream of lycan runners to mask that), then one final time before you jump down the hole. Knowing those auto-save points is useful, because 1) reloading your last manual save point will put you all the way back before the Heisenberg boss fight, which is officially Too Far, and 2) if you pass an autosave accidentally after using up all your supplies and on low health, the next bit is going to be that much harder. To survive the clearing, forget killing everything: spend the first wave hiding behind the house on the right with the supplies (it confuses them), and the second hiding behind the other house with supplies on your left, then climb the ladder to the roof and stand up to target the mould. Don’t climb the roof earlier: the archers will get you. To survive the boss, try to run under his swings when he leaps at you, hit him with a flash grenade every time your pals with the goddamn space laser are ready, target him, then shoot the hell out of the weak point on his back. [deep breath] DONE! (And goddamnit, Chris, if I have to listen to you say ‘I’ve reach the target clearing. Damn this looks big’ one more time, I will shoot you myself.)

#Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #more overlong gaming anecdotes

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precambrian-sea-pancake · 1 year

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Happy Birthday RE7! 🎉

I’m not lying when I say this game and this franchise really do mean a lot to me.

I think it was around early or mid 2019 when I discovered the franchise (I live under a rock, okay?)

I was going through probably the worst time of my life. I had a lot of issues going on with me, but irl and online. That is stuff I won’t get into because trauma is a bitch. But it is one of the reasons why it took me so long to come back to tumblr.

I remember one day I was feeling terrible and I wanted to distract myself with some youtube. Eventually I stumbled upon an RE7 Let’s Play, and it caught my interest. I liked horror stuff, and I thought the aesthetic was cool. So I watched it.

I loved everything about it. The story, the characters, the environment, the gameplay looked fun. Pretty much what I’ve been wanting in a game for awhile.

The two leads especially, they really resonated with me. With everything I was going through I felt less alone, I guess? Both of them were going through hell but didn’t give up, they made it out and managed to get a new start. Obviously not exactly the same situation, but in a metaphorical sense it really spoke to me. One of them was going through something he didn’t understand and was completely out of their element. The other one did bad things and suffered greatly for it, and was full of guilt. They did everything they could to help fix it, and redeem themselves. That one especially…I’ve done things and I have a lot of guilt problems. I was in both of these situations, and seeing these two overcome it and make it out of there, will still loyal to each other, made me feel just a little bit better. They really did help me get through that part of my life and still do now.

Cause when RE8 came out I wasn’t doing too well either. I was dealing with moving away from all my friends (I practically require human connection to function. So it was awful) and this was right after graduation so my college plans changed completely and I’m still struggling to get my academic life together. Since I was little I had nightmares about the idea of moving, so finding out one of my worst fears was coming true…not fun :(

And well, that was sort of happening in the new game. With Ethan and Mia moving and facing issues with life after what happened. Change was hard for them just like it was for me. Then Seeing all of Ethan’s fears and paranoia come true? In the DLC, seeing Rose get support after all the bullying she faced? Yeah…I felt that. I also liked how despite everything, they all still care about each other. Even with whatever issues and trauma they have, love is still there. The idea that after everything I’ve been through and the bad choices I’ve made, I can still be loved. Because I’m not my experiences.

Who knew that this of all things, would be my ultimate comfort game. Sometimes the most random things become sentimental to you.

So happy birthday to re7, the game that’s helped me through a lot, and has stuck with me since! ❤️

#personal #I’m sorry this is sappy af #i’m cringe i know #but it’s also my blog so deal with it

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hidingoutbackstage · 2 years

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I think the thing that annoys me most abt being a Resident Evil fan is how many fucking times the outside perception of RE because of its associated brand and the way the content they came out with has changed. When the games first came out in the late 90s, they were survival horror zombie games, now regarded as some of the most revolutionary in the world of horror video games. Then the live action movies came out and they were 1) bad, but 2) the public’s new perception of the brand. Now if you were talking about Resident Evil, people assumed it was the movies. Mila Jovovich was “the face of Resident Evil” Then RE4 came out and its success and impact cannot be overstated. It was (and still is) one of the most influential video games of all time. Leon’s the face of Resident Evil now. More movies come out. Back to Mila Jovovich. RE5 and RE6 come out and are both not super favored. But they’re the two highest selling Capcom games of all time. So for better of for worse, they’re the public’s perception. We’ve lost the “horror” of these “survival horror” video games. We take a break for a while. RE7 comes out and it’s shit your pants terrifying. Resident Evil is a horror game again. Where do you go in the series from here? Back to the beginning, of course. RE2 gets a remake and everyone loves it. Leon is the face of Resident Evil again. RE3 comes out, letting Jill have her time in the sun after she was abandoned post-5. The game isn’t received as well as 2, though, so she isn’t as revered. RE8 comes out. The horror part of the survival horror has been phased out again. So has the sci fi setting in favor of a fantasy one. Lady D is the face of Resident Evil. We will never recover from this. RE Netflix comes out. It’s terrible. It’s the only thing that shows up when you google “Resident Evil” now. We will never recover from this.

#sid rants #resident evil #that got ranty but i don’t care #i hate resident evil fans and i hate being one

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thelightningthatjumpsbetween · 10 months

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Thirty Nine

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

Donna walked with Rose partially to shush her; she knew pacing and bouncing were ways to quiet babies, but also because she wanted to keep an eye on the events, if at all possible. And those tall second-story windows were made for looking out of. A windstorm swept over the mansion and most of what she saw was thanks to intermittent flashes of lightning. The wind howled around the structure.

Rose was not impressed by the rocking and pacing, and was crying still. Salvatore had gone to get an array of snacks and peace offerings from a cupboard downstairs; would Ethan balk if he knew they were trying to give his toddler crackers at 2 in the morning? Maybe, but probably not.

When Moreau reappeared, his desperate, simpering mannerisms seemed to agitate Rose further. She flung her arms out, but begrudgingly grabbed an apple slice and bit into it, her cries subsiding into furious grunts. “Now she sounds like Karl,” Donna mused with a hint of a smile.

Salvatore brushed a shaky hand over the child’s curls, his uncertain expression melting into admiration.

“Karl!” He answered Donna with saucer-wide eyes. “He was…steaming mad!”

“I really thought she was going to hit him,” Donna muttered quietly as Rose demanded more food, which Uncle Sal dutifully supplied. The still-angry toddler said something in a babble, some command, and pointed toward the room’s corner. He glanced, but then answered Donna, “Or he was going to hit her.”

The young-looking woman sighed, and patted the older man’s hand, which was covered with chewed-nails and peeling skin-anxiety-related, for maybe the first time in a thousand years. “Sal…look at us. What are we doing?”

“G-getting a..a…second chance?” he said, in an almost apologetic way. “Helping.”

“It just feels so surreal.”

“Is it bad, Donna?”

“No. It just feels lonely. I hate fighting, I hate…whatever this is. Remember the old festivals? The parties we had. Remember when the villagers would come together, build a new barn? Or host a market. Even though…no one from the outside ever came. It still felt like…”

“Like a place, not a…a…hole in the ground. Simple. Happy some moments.”

“There are things I miss, even as awful as it was. We did have happy moments.”

“Maybe there is time for more happy moments.”

“I hope so. Salvatore. I’m so sorry for…never…I never…I gave you no voice. Angie was so cruel to you, just as cruel as the others. I take responsibility.”

Rose was arguing with this sentence as she took more food and now distinctly pointed at the cabinet, but the adults were still deep in conversation, still staring out the window with a hope of seeing something, having some clue about where the others had gone, what had happened. Crashes and screeches were the only clues.

“It’s all right,” he said in a very shaky voice. “Do you want to know something funny? The meanest. It wasn’t Angie, it wasn’t Alcina. Not-not even the villagers who saw me when they were fishing, and they threw rocks and sometimes shot at me.”

Her sympathetic stare was the question, and he answered with a trembling lip. “The meanest…was Mother-Mother-Miranda,” the words were choked out, “... always. She hated me…the more I changed, the more she hated me.”

Donna stayed silent, but dipped her head toward his. He was a few inches shorter than her, and he patted her on the back when she leaned in for the embrace. Though she was silent, the two were aware enough of their emotions for him to intuit her thoughts. She had already known that. She watched it, after all.

When Rose shrieked, causing them both to jump, and pointed again at the closet door, Donna sighed. “All right, little one, let’s listen to you now.” She held out the toddler to Moreau, who looked shocked.

“You…you’d trust me? To…?”

With an encouraging look, Donna handed over the child, who was still babbling at the closet. Donna approached it cautiously, her hands drawn up to her chest, plucking at her black nightgown’s collar in a nervous gesture. Salvatore was staring in awe, as though he couldn’t imagine what Donna might find. He didn’t even protest when Rose stuck one of her carrot slices into his mouth, he just chewed, enraptured.

“The only thing here is this,” Donna said in confusion, slipping her hands around a heavy, large, dark purple stone. It weighed in her hands as she lifted it. “It feels…strange.”

“Be safe,” Moreau said in a stutter, clutching Rose. A new sound came from nearby, shocking them both again, and they jumped at the clicking keys of a typewriter. It sat on a high shelf. Donna laughed nervously and sat the crystal back down. “Look at us, acting so scared. No wonder they left us here.”

“I-I’m sure you could be more scary, with your flowers,” he said reassuringly, and Donna dipped her head at the compliment.

“I’d rather not,” she acknowledged, and then approached the typewriter, which had ceased its ghost typing. “What could this be?”

When Salvatore had no answer, Donna reached up and plucked the paper out of the machine.

TAKE CRYSTAL TO ETHAN

TELL HIM, GODRIC SAYS –

SHE HAS HUMANITY TOO

“Godric!” Donna exclaimed, remembering the way that Eva and Ethan had exploded onto the floor after disappearing, had needed hours to come down from whatever experience they’d had. She only heard some of the details from Eva. She read the note aloud to Moreau, and then glanced at the shelf.

“Do you think it’s a trick?”

He shrugged. “Ethan would want to know,” he acknowledged.

“How do I get there?”

“Maybe…maybe you can travel the way Eva does?”

Donna sauntered to the crystal; she picked it up again, holding it in one hand, the typewritten note in another.

“I’m afraid I’ll get lost. Ethan seems to have poor luck when he…”

Salvatore made a strangled noise at the window. He pointed, and Donna ran, looking at the horizon for the worst-case scenario. But there was nothing to see, other than a faraway white blur….headlights? And the resonant screeches and thumps. Sal was pointing downward. “A loose horse! Is that–”

“Ronin!” Salvatore had plenty of stabling experience, even though most horses shied away from him in his later years. He’d known this particular horse a very long time, perhaps over a century now. “But where is the carriage? He has no harness, no collar.”

“Perhaps the Duke is camped nearby…We can return him later, but this feels like fate,” she said excitedly, grabbing her loose hair and twisting it into a haphazard braid. She tied it with a piece of string from her nightgown. Rose was now chattering happily, seeming to realize the message had been conveyed. Donna looked around the room hopefully, and saw an old-fashioned cloak draped over a nail–it had likely been there for a century. She cringed, thankful at least for her rain boots, as she pulled the moth-eaten grey fabric around her shoulders. It had no hood, and she sighed in frustration.

Moreau bit his lip. “You think—you want me to go instead? You watch Rose?”

Donna’s eyes were wide. “I…I think I need to do this,” she said in a voice brimming with fear, “And besides, you know I’m the better rider.”

In fact she was a very accomplished rider, and had an almost unnatural way with the large animals. Maybe it was because they shared similar traits; shyness, a love of quiet, a habit of attracting unwanted attention from others, and palpable inner strength, all traits that were ignored when it came time for work. Salvatore nodded wistfully, remembering the glory of the former days when Donna regularly rode. Before her cadou. Unfortunately, by then, he’d already begun to look relatively grotesque. Their acquaintance was made mostly by moonlight, simply because he feared scaring her.

She left in a flurry of grey cloak, and he watched from the window as the horse stood expectantly outside, stamping at the ground. Several minutes passed and the dark form of the woman appeared, wrapped in the cloak, a large satchel across her shoulder containing what, apparently, Ethan needed.

Salvatore and Rose both watched, mesmerized, as Donna approached the buckskin in a gentle, yet urgent way. Moments later she’d somehow scrambled on his bare back, and without reins, grabbed the horse’s mane and urged him forward with the faintest of nudges.

Since there was no light around, she disappeared on the road almost immediately, and Salvatore held his breath as he continued to seek the dark night for clues about what was happening. Rose yawned, content in his arms, and he beamed when he realized she would go back to sleep soon.

—-----

Ethan and Karl were flanking the creature, Ethan making use of the rifle and Karl still gleefully flinging metal toward it. Alcina was entirely overwhelmed by the sight of these two working in unison against…well… her . She gazed at the monster with something between disgust and pity. This had been her legacy? When she’d first transformed, Alcina was horrified, despite having already degenerated into murder many times over. She never wanted to be a freak, never wanted to be anything but grace personified. Instead, she’d become this thing, and Miranda had been delighted.

Well, eventually. At first the religious leader was stunned; she wanted to study the transformation, wanted samples. She seemed jealous, almost, and had remarked about the great power within Alcina afterward. Eventually Miranda warmed to the idea that her adopted daughter had an even larger, even more terrifying presence. Alcina had always hoped, believed, after that, that she had won favor.

So much for that, she thought bitterly.

In truth, for all of Ethan’s energy and the promise that things were ‘lovely’, Alcina had no desire to be here. She was wet, cold, barefoot, and she had no one. Her daughters were gone. She had no one else, never had…and of all the final insults, Karl damned Heisenberg was here, creating a larger-than-life magnetic field and wielding an electric hammer as if to add one more insult to the pain. She contemplated leaving Ethan’s side and waltzing forward toward the beast, ending them both.

Ending them all, perhaps. Who cared?

She took a steadying breath. She could bolt. It was only perhaps one hundred feet away. There was nothing that either man could do to stop her. Right? They might not even try. Ethan wanted her to do this.

A loud, bone-rattling thunderclap sounded, and Heisenberg stumbled backwards as his field fell; he put a hand to his head as if he’d been struck. The trio did not have to look far for the source of the sound; a black hole appeared within the pitch black of the night, and a form stepped out of it. Heisenberg’s hammer was ringing as he built back up another field, his eyes darting between the woman in front of them, the beast stalking the treeline, and the truck, behind everyone.

“She really here, Ethan?”

“No,” he said angrily, the wind stinging his eyes as he only barely lowered the rifle. He could sense that she was more…tangible, than she’d been during the ceremony. He could probably touch her, but she couldn’t touch them. “No, she doesn’t have a body.”

“Not yet,” Miranda agreed, her voice a hiss, like a snake. She ignored Karl as she usually did and strode instead toward Ethan. He raised the gun and his frown returned, as the truck creaked independently behind him. “But I will, soon, Ethan.”

He fired a round; it went past her, and Karl stepped even farther back, trying to juggle whatever the hell it was he was trying to do. Alcina paused in her suicide mission, wondering if she could take out her tormentor. She drew herself up haughtily despite standing in the rain in a nightdress. Miranda, however, only had eyes for Ethan.

The beast roared, and suddenly the truck they’d arrived in soared over their heads, groaning as it was hurled by the engineer at the creature. It ripped apart midair, a purposeful act by Karl; Alcina saw fluid spraying from the carcass of his beloved vehicle. In another moment he’d struck the broken, twisted parts of metal with a carefully aimed (was that possible?) lightning bolt; the gasoline ignited in a fury, lighting the field-and the creature-as it screamed. Alcina’s voice echoed from it, cursing Heisenberg.

“You have learned something…something which I need to know,” Miranda said hollowly to Ethan, ignoring the general chaos behind her. “I sensed it earlier. You have been near its resting place.”

“ It ?” He thought of the man made of ice, the sarcophagus with the strange crystal.

Her eyes lit up. Goddammit, could literally anybody stay out of his fucking head?

“Yes, Ethan, that’s it,” she said in another hiss, drawing even nearer. The dragon yelped, downed for a moment, on fire. Karl pulled the hammer back. “Think of it. The location of the damned. Where is it?”

He knew better. He glared at her, thinking of the kind Miranda stranded somewhere in the consciousness. Then he thought of Alcina’s pale arm catching moonlight. He thought of Karl’s ass in those cargo pants, in fact, thought of Karl’s ass in several other compromising positions. Miranda’s face twisted into an expression of rage.

“Fuck you,” he answered, and thought of Mia’s long, brown hair in the Texas sunlight. Ethan grasped the rifle in his right hand and drew his left back. He remembered the night of the ceremony, how the white showers of sparks had left Eva’s crystallized palm and hit Miranda right in the chest. His anger outweighed any curiosity he might have had about her next movement, and he could only hope his own attempt was as powerful.

When he emptied every ounce of anger into the throw, a shower of golden sparks erupted and blinded everyone, blazing more brightly than Karl’s gasoline lightning trick. The Lord, and his sibling, shielded their eyes as Miranda flew back into the darkness, disappearing. Her wail of rage faded, and Alcina stared at the black-eyed father with a new sense of admiration.

“Karl, look out!” Eva appeared in the fray, pushing the engineer away as another form stumbled into reality directly behind her. At first, Ethan was confused, but then he realized who was wielding the familiar sword. Karl yanked the air and the blade almost left the man’s hands, and both laughed. The same laugh. That beautiful laugh.

“It’s Heisenberg’s twin,” he explained breathlessly to a very sick-looking Alcina. She watched the pair of brothers as they sparred, putting on a show of loud insults as they had last time. Her voice was full of despondent sarcasm. “There are two of him? This is surely hell, curated to my specifications.”

Ethan snorted and then abruptly pulled her behind him. Miranda had reappeared, and a gaping, black-bleeding hole was in her abdomen. But she straightened, with effort. “I will take what is due,” she spat. “If I have to tear that eyesore of a building down, stone by stone, then I shall.”

Alcina shoved Ethan aside and he nearly toppled over, not anticipating her strength. He would need to reload soon; he cautiously let her take the lead as he aimed for the dragon-like beast.

“How could you do this to me? Using my own mutation…use me, in this way?” Alcina’s long arm gestured to the screeching, wounded Remnant. The Heisenberg brothers, probably purposely, danced around it, some of their blows landing near or on it. It was spinning, twisting, trying to follow them as they taunted each other in German. Karl continually tried to yank the metal sword away from his phantom brother.

Miranda narrowed her eyes. “Had you been looking through the castle properly, you would have found it. I gave you that task many years ago.”

“You gave me nothing but tasks! Meaningless, idle! I couldn’t live, I couldn’t leave! You made me a monster and then locked me away. And now you have taken my power, the only thing I had left, and turned it into a mockery.”

Miranda looked bored. Ethan took the opportunity to reload.

“Your power? I gave you everything. This,” Miranda’s golden-claw-covered hand swept toward the monster. “This is my legacy, my creation. This beast was owed to me. Now I can control it, as was meant to be.”

Ethan considered winding up another golden spark ball. He was getting pretty sick of listening to this shit, and as he fired another round at the beast, he wondered if bullets were even affecting it. Was it here ? Was it between realms, like Miranda? Perhaps she’d purposely made it that way. Unkillable. Ah, fuck. Fuck.

If this is what one fragment did, he didn’t want to see what the whole thing could do.

Ethan shrugged the rifle over his shoulder, putting it away, having realized that it was useless. Then again, the whole crystal was a part of his beautiful, wonderful daughter. That’s what the whole thing could do. He smiled to himself. To Alcina, he said, “Don’t listen to her, she’s just trying to piss you off. Make you as miserable as she is.”

Eva suddenly appeared again, feet away from Miranda, and scolded, “Look at this destruction. What would you even do with a daughter if you had one?”

He’d never heard her speak directly to Miranda. Eva’s voice was shaky, and angry, hurt, in a way that Ethan had never heard before. Both he and Alcina stared at the exchange. Miranda looked confused, then annoyed. Before she could answer, Eva had repeated Ethan’s move; her palms came upward, and a bolt of white energy and sparks erupted from her hands. Miranda barely had time to cry out, enraged again, as her ephemeral form disappeared. For the moment.

When Eva turned to look at him, he saw a trace of misery on her usually placid face. But then she smiled sadly. “I suppose you know too. I just realized…the creature…it is not…”

“Karl,” Ethan yelled across the field, “We can’t hurt it.”

“Like hell,” came the loud reply from somewhere in the dark.

“No, I mean…we can’t KILL it…it’s like Miranda, it’s not fully here on this plane.”

“You got a formula for pullin’ a solid’ bein’ outta a big bitch dragon, Winters?”

Jochen’s laugh resonated, an echo of his brother’s. Alcina rolled her eyes.

“No,” Ethan called dismally.

“Maybe blast it with your fist like you did her a minute ago, that was cool,” one of the Heisenbergs called. When they yelled, their accents melded, and he couldn’t tell one voice from the other.

A strange noise sounded from behind them. Hoof beats. It couldn’t be. Ethan was almost afraid to turn around simply because he didn’t want the night to get stranger. It was going to turn into a Monty Python sketch, he was convinced. It would be someone banging coconuts together.

But he was compelled to slowly look, expecting something else terrible to appear instead of his preferred coconuts.

It was Donna, atop a thick draught horse, clutching a bag in her hands.

“Ethan!” she said wildly, sliding off the horse as Eva ran toward her, grabbing her protectively. Despite the very large, very deadly mutated dragon creature sixty feet away, the horse was calm, simply shaking his mane as she dismounted.

“Donna, what the fuck?”

“Read this,” she said wordlessly, fumbling for a folded up paper in the bag.

#resident evil village

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heyitsmoonbard · 2 years

Audio

hey tumblr! i rewrote ‘We Don’t Talk About Bruno’ to make it fit to Resident Evil 8 plot :) please consider listening and sharing!! this was a really quick and silly idea of mine that Encanto is just re8 rated PG, and then it all somehow came up to this in a few hours disclaimer: i do not own the characters, or the instrumental - i just changed the lyrics and voiced them myself! all characters belong to capcom, and the music belongs to disney! however, the audio still belongs to me, so please ask permission before reposting to some other platform lyrics:

[Mother Miranda]

We don't talk about Heisenberg no, no! We don't talk about Heisenberg... but

[Mother Miranda] It was my ritual day [Lady Dimitrescu] It was our ritual day [Mother Miranda] We were getting ready, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky [Lady Dimitrescu] No clouds allowed in the sky [Mother Miranda] Karl walks in with a mischievous grin- [Lady Dimitrescu] Thunder!! [Mother Miranda] You telling this story, or am I? [Lady Dimitrescu] I'm sorry, mother please, go on

[Mother Miranda] Karl says, "You dumb big bitch" [Lady Dimitrescu] Why did he tell us? [Mother Miranda] In doing so, he makes me flinch [Lady Dimitrescu] Miranda, Mother, protect us [Mother Miranda] What an awful stinky grinch! [Lady Dimitrescu] What a joyous day... but anyway

[Mother Miranda & Lady Dimitrescu] We don't talk about Heisenberg, no, no! We don't talk about Heisenberg!

[Donna Beneviento] Hey! Grew to live in fear of Karl shouting or stumbling I could always hear his patience running out and crumbling I associate him with the sound of hitting steel, buh-buh-buh It's a heavy lift, with a gift so humbling Always left Miranda and the family fumbling Screaming that he wished for all of us to disappear What an engineer

[Salvatore Moreau] A seven-foot frame Hammer along his back When he calls your name It all fades to black Yeah, he sees your dreams And feasts on your screams [Everyone] We don't talk about Heisenberg, no, no! (We don't talk about Heisenberg, no, no!) We don't talk about Heisenberg (we don't talk about Heisenberg!)

[Villager 1] He told me he’d kill my child The next day: dead! (No, no!) [Villager 2] He told me he’d cut off my butt! And just like he said... (no, no!) [Sturm] He said that he’d replace my brains with steel, now look at my head (no, no! Hey!) [Everyone] Your fate is sealed: when you cross his road, you’re dead!

[Lady Dimitrescu] He called me ‘supersized dumb bitch whose boobs are way too big for her spine’ He told me that I act like a cunt, because all that I drink is my wine [Mother Miranda] Oh, Ethan Winters’s on his way

[Donna Beneviento] He told me that the life of our dreams would remain out of reach Thanks to our mother It's like I hear him now [Lady Dimitrescu] Hey Ethan, I want not a sound out of you (it's like I can hear him now) [Donna Beneviento] I can hear him now

[Ethan Winters] Um, Karl... Yeah, about that Karl... I really need to know about Karl... Gimmie the truth and the whole truth, Karl [Mother Miranda] Ethan Winters, your daughter's here [Everyone] Time for dinner!

[Everyone] A seven-foot frame (it was my ritual day, it was our ritual day) Hammer along his back (we were getting ready) When he calls your name (and there wasn't a cloud in the sky) It all fades to black (no clouds allowed in the sky!) Yeah, he sees your dreams (Karl walks in with a mischievous grin-) And feasts on your screams (thunder!) You telling this story, or am I? I'm sorry, mother, please, go on (Oh, Ethan Winters’s on his way) Karl says, "You dumb big bitch" (a seven-foot frame, hammer along his back) In doing so, he makes me flinch What an awful stinky grinch! He's here!

[Everyone] Don't talk about Heisenberg, no, no! [Ethan Winters] Why did I talk about Heisenberg? [Everyone] Not a word about Heisenberg [Ethan Winters] I never should've brought up Heisenberg!

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village oneshots

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dragongirl642 · 3 years

Note

I really love your writing and noticed your asks are open (i think). And, I checked your masterlist and didn't see RE8 listed as a universe you write for, so you can ignore this if you want. But, could I request Heisenberg, Donna, and Lady Dimitrescu reacting to a male dragon-shifter reader who has decided to make the character's residence their hoard, and as such, going to extreme lengths to protect them and the residence?

OOOHHH 😮😳 How did you know dragons (and by extent dragon shifters) are my favourite things in the whole wide world!!!!!

As a treat, you get all four of the Lords' reactions. 😎

For extra drama, the dragon-shifter (you) basically crash land nearby (after a loooooonnnngggg flight) and decide to take up residence in the nearest abode while you rest, and end up getting comfortable and liking the area so decide to stay.

You have a full human form, fully dragon form, and an in-between form.

Also, you have like saintly levels of patience.

Heisenberg

It takes him a minute of staring to figure out that the giant dragon in the factory, is not a hallucination, induced by either the drinking he was doing the night prior, or a trick of Mother Miranda's trying to destabilize him mentally.

However this quickly turns into a lot of yelling "what the F are you doing in my factory!" and "What the F are you!" while chucking metal at you.

You melt the more dangerous pieces and yell at him to "Cease this nonsense! You can't hurt me like this."

Heisenberg.exe has stopped working.

He's partially re-evaluating his life like...did I just get sassed by a giant lizard.

You take the initiative to tell the small angry man telekinetically chucking metal around to chill. "Listen, I'm just going to rest here a few days then leave. You leave me alone, and I won't Incinerate you."

He quickly weighs up how much he doesn't want you here vs how much it will piss Mother Miranda off if he uses the giant dragon crash landing in his factory as an excuse to do absolutely nothing for her.

He's a bit annoyed about you taking up all the room by the forges so he can't make new soldats but...

Hate for Miranda wins!

He actually uses this as an excuse in his next report and Mother Miranda comes to 'get rid of the problem herself since Heisenberg cannot'...you almost incinerated her and she checked out. (He's putting that down as one of the best days of his life).

Since he now has nothing better to do he either leans on a nearby balcony or stands on a floating gear and starts trying to get your attention.

Will ask you everything from your name and where you came from to your favourite colour and if you have a specific favourite scale on your body.

You're distrustful and annoyed at first but soon warm up to this obviously lonely man.

You get so comfortable you decide you just might never leave.

The first time you feel comfortable enough to shift back to your human form Heisenberg is like (o_o) hot person! Two for one deal, annoying Mother Miranda plus Eye Candy!!!!

Makes a joke about having you turn into your dragon form again so he can keep making excuses to Mother Miranda. Which gets you curious and you ask about her, and he explains about the cadou, the experiments, and what she did to him.

He will make a bunk for you, so he can get back to work and you can stay near the heat of the forges, (absorbing the energy from the flames speeds up recovery and/or keeps you charged at 100% so you're always ready to burn a b1tch...specifically Miranda).

You both talk about whatever while he works. Lots of late night chats. One time he accidentally doused the forges and you just blew into the chamber and they re-lit immediately. (Mechanical Heart Eyes)

Since you start considering the entire factory to be your hoard, sometimes you claim a random object as your specific favourite piece for the day, maybe one of his tools or a specific piece of scrap. If he needs to use it, you won't let him and a small argument can be had. A solution is soon found though, you can't have a conflict of interest if your favourite item is him.

When you protect him, he's super flattered and hypes you up.

Cue him on the sides cheering you on.

If you two have started dating he will definitely yell "that's my boyfriend!" and gush about you to whoever happens to be standing next to him. (Bonus points if it's any of the other Lords. Especially Miranda, she is dying!)

Definitely makes a sign saying 'Beware of Dragon' to put on the fence.

Sometimes you jump to his defence even when he's in the middle of handling the threat. He gets huffy, saying he can take care of himself. You respond by telling him you won't let anything harm what's yours and once again, Heisenberg.exe is experiencing an error.

Alcina Dimitrescu

She is absolutely dismayed and angry at the giant lizard that barged its way through the doors and took up residency in her hall. It's tracking in mud and snow, burned the curtains, and took a good chunk of the wall, (letting in the cold).

Her daughters can't handle the cold, damn you!

Tries to fight you...fails. Turns out she's not immune to incineration and loses quite a few limbs (they grow back...eventually).

When she sees you shift to your human form, she's doubly-incensed...not only did you barge into her home but your also a D I S G U S T I N G M A N T H I N G !

You shift back whenever she tries to kill you so eventually she just gives up. (According to her she's waiting for the right opportunity NOT giving up.)

Wants to kill you, calls Mother Miranda for help and well, the same thing happens if you had crashed in the factory...she checks out!

Refuses to leave the castle for any reason, she's not leaving you along with her daughters.

Resigns herself to yelling insults at you from the balcony.

You respond in kind and it slowly devolves into a competition to come up with the most creative insults.

Your dragon form radiates heat...like...a lot. (Even counteracting the cold coming through the hole in the wall, which you attempted to fix.) This of course attracts the Dimitrescu daughters to the hall (against their mother's will).

If Alcina sees you lying their in dragon from, her three hive-mind children chattering away happily with you encouraging their curiosity, (Bela is half-asleep by your side, Daniela is complimenting your claws and asking about your bone structure, while Cassandra proudly proclaims her mother's are better than yours), she partly reconsiders her stance on you being a filthy, horrible, disgusting lizard man thing to just a filthy lizard man thing.

Seriously, your filthy, take a bath.

You quite enjoy all the little luxuries that can be found in the castle and decide to stay. Alcina almost shreds her hat in exasperation.

You get more comfortable and she starts to tolerate your presence, although she will take a swipe at you if she thinks she has a chance at killing you in your human form.

Jokes on her you can partially change and still fit through the hallways.

You never told her you've claimed the castle and the Dimitrescu family as your hoard but she does notice you being oddly friendly to her and she is "suspicious!"

You've met a few vampires and have a few suggestions for a more sustainable food source (buying blood donations from villagers instead of killing them). She's skeptical but considers it.

The first time you defend her is actually against Mother Miranda...over the phone. You have sharp hearing...and you don't like what you're hearing.

She's both flattered you would defend her so, and disgusted with herself for accepting a man thing's help.

When she realises she likes having you around, she starts to rationalise to herself that you're not just any man thing, you're her dragon man thing and therefore okay.

Gets more comfortable with leaving you with her daughters. You treat them well and keep them entertained?! That's a free babysitter if ever she's seen one.

When she sees the more extreme lengths you will go to protect the castle and her family, she is impressed and flattered and a little scared, and acts like it was her idea to have you stay.

"Oh, haven't you heard, that's the Dimitrescu Dragon."

Definitely rubs it in Heisenberg's face that she has a dragon and he doesn't.

Donna Beneviento

What are you!?!?!

To protect Donna, Angie is ready to fight you or die trying!

Just kind off avoids you and sends the pollen at you to make you leave.

The only one of the four Lords most likely to actually defeat you.

When you speak though, telling her to "release (your) mind, witch, or (you'll) incinerate everything", she's surprised and scared enough to actually do so.

Asks if you'll be her friend. Angie is cussing you out.

You see how scared and lonely she is and just *adoption mode activated*.

You only need to rest a few days, why not do so on friendly terms with your host. (keep telling yourself that).

It takes a day for you to shift to human form, partially because you don't want to have your measurements taken because Donna wants to make you a giant bonnet, (You reason it's a waste of resources, you'll only be here a short while).

Jokes on you, this is your home now.

You've never hoarded dolls before, but there's a first time for everything.

You will spend most of your time in human form since your dragon form kinda scares her.

Even though she's still scared of it, Donna does find your dragon form interesting and will ask to sketch you (from a distance...no fire please).

Make various over-exaggerated poses and joke about "draw me like one of your french girls" and she will laugh, (even though she doesn't get the joke).

She makes a plush doll of you. It turns inside out to shift between human and dragon.

The first time you protect her, she's scared. The flames take her straight back to her childhood, she's crying and she hides. You shift back to human form very quickly and find her, holding her close and apologising for scaring her over and over.

Will tear a man apart in human form to avoid this (or almost human form).

She slowly works up to being comfortable in your dragon form, the first time she falls asleep against your side is a good day.

You start insisting on accompanying her to meetings and escorting her whenever she has to meet another Lord. They start talking sh1t, they get hit (or burned...you let Donna choose).

Angie cheers you on.

Salvatore Moreau

He is terrified of you when you first show up.

You basically tear your way into the mines for shelter and he is frantically plugging the entrance to his home with the enzyme to hide.

Calls for "mother" to save him and that's how you find him.

You see this small deformed fish man crying in the mine and think, "i'm not gonna ask."

You settle in the slightly larger chamber and just lie down for a rest.

He soon realises your not going to attack him and ventures out to stare at you. He just keeps staring at you for like an uncomfortably long time, peeking around a doorway.

Eventual you snap and ask him to stop staring.

He slowly comes out of hiding and starts asking the basics.

"You can talk?" "Who are you?" "Why are you here?"

Seeing no reason not to, you tiredly answer all his questions.

Hearing about your long journey has him curiously asking about the places you've been to.

He quickly figures out you must have some sort of human form since you end up on the topics of favourite foods or movies and your favourites are all distinctly human. (He's the fastest at figuring this out and the least surprised when you shift).

Terrifying (hideous) creature going through an unnerving transformation into a humanoid form...he can relate. Although he's slightly jealous of how 'normal' you look when you shift to human form.

You two have a movie night where he proudly shows of his collection. It is in the middle of him analysing the context of THAT ONE SCENE that you decide, Yes...This one is mine.

The entire reservoir and mine is your territory and if anything comes anywhere near it they will be ash in 30 seconds.

When you protect him from danger, he's shocked that someone cares enough about him to f-ing incinerate a lycan for even looking at him weirdly.

You act like its natural and eventually he starts to get used to you.

Has self doubt and questions your motives...you tell him he's worth it or that he's your jewel.

C O N F I D E N C E B O O S T

Starts talking back to the other Lords when they insult him. It's easy with you hovering menacingly behind him, veins glowing with barely contained R A G E.

One source of friction however, is the fact that he doesn't like that you keep trying to kill Mother Miranda and he will latch onto you sobbing until you agree to spare her (for now...you'll get her when he's not around).

However, the longer you two know each other, the more self-confidence he gains and the more you talk through what Mother Miranda did to him and why he deserves better, (pointing out her manipulation, analyses whether she's ever 'cared' about him, etc...), the less bothered he gets. (Give it a few years, he'll cheer you on alongside Heisenberg).

Bonus:

The second you see Mother Miranda...it is on sight. (Especially if you know what she did to the Lords).

Cue you shifting to dragon form and preparing to unleash a volley of flame, "I smell the blood of children on you."

You may be comfortable(ish) with the actions of your housemate but you have STANDARDS.

Alright 😊 Hoped you like these headcanons, jaychirps. They were really fun to write and grew quite a bit. 😅

(I feel like Moreau's a bit ooc but I don't know enough about him to dispute that claim....)

Oh and p.s. ... asks are open.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing.

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him. One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

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