#Mother Miranda imagines

[lazarettta]

So I just finished this woman’s boss level on the hardest level and I think I got arthritis in my hands now 😅…anyways…

As I was getting my ass HANDED to me on a mf gold plate made from the Gods of Olympus that was cursed by Satan…all I could think about?…

1) where does Miranda even come from/is hiding 24/7???

2) ain’t no way she’s immortal AND celibate.

Like yeah, she’s hellbent on this kid thing in the game, but what if she wasn’t here? She still grieves her daughter but the minute she interacts with the Megamycete and she gets overloaded with knowledge and I guess memories (?), she became obsessed…with understanding her blessing and curse.

And yes, she continues to experiment on people and being shady, that’s still canon. But when she and Spencer met…they never parted ways because their interests aligned. (Though Miranda was more interest in knowledge and progression than she was about the money and politics.)

Backstory done, now…wouldn’t be interesting if she actually had someone waiting for her at home, right? Not even an experiment either, just a normal wife and home. (Sorry, men don’t exist as anything but props in my stories 👹).

Anyway, Miranda is crazy as all outside, but at home? She could totally be like the Mia we saw at the beginning of the game, you know? Loving, teasing, kinda bossy and just like…not being crazy as all outside. Miranda definitely keeps long hours, but she’s a top tier scientist with Umbrella so it’s expected, yeah?

Miranda makes bank, okay? But again, she’s immortal so she’s probably rich already meaning you don’t have to work anymore if you didn’t want to.

But you do anyway, if only to keep yourself from getting bored at home on the days you’re home alone.

Sometimes it can be weeks before she’s home again, and Miranda really does try not to be gone that long but sometimes the Lords fuck up and she’s stuck cleaning up their messes. She always makes it up to you when she gets home though. Thoroughly. You never complain. well, once as a joke…Miranda took that personal. You didn’t make that joke again. (Considering it though)

You probably don’t know what Miranda really gets up to at work though, you don’t even suspect even after 6 almost 7 years, she was still just that beautiful nerd you quite literally bulldozed all those years ago in your rush to get to court in ridiculously high heels.

Miranda naturally had been pissed and your life was automatically forfeit…until you smiled. As cliche as it was…Miranda froze. Right there on the dirty New York side walk, uncaring about her pristine clothes possibly being ruined forever. She watched you ramble and rant above her until she suddenly found herself slightly towering over you.

Stronger than you looked she realized that day, able to pull her back to her feet so easily. Her. A self-claimed goddess.

Miranda always remembers that day fondly, it was very well the day she came back to life. You both remembered that day differently though 🤣. You still think you should’ve called 911.

So yeah, when Miranda isn’t doing business with her associates, I feel like she’s just at home with you, enjoying a nice homebody sort of day just lounging around or spa days together while her Lords do her dirty work, ya know? The usual double life standards.

I have some other thoughts about Miranda’s time off screen but for now that’s all I wanted to share 👀 may or may not add more to this later.

[heisendaddysimpswritings]

『Miranda Masterlist』

(TBA)

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『Tags』

[wreniriis]

’Son’

[spicybunni]

Love Bites

I’ve had this lingering headcanon that all the Lords in RE:VILLGE need blood to appease the cadou inside them?

Summary: Some headcanons/descriptions of how the Lords in RE Village bite you for the first time/ how they use you for your blood 🩸

WARNINGS ⚠️ blood, injury to reader, biting , rough handling, violence to reader, yandere tendencies

DONNA BENEVIENTO

🪡 - Yandere vibes with this one and you can’t convince me otherwise.

🪡- You were visiting the estate to give Donna some fabric she had requested from the village. You were one of the estate’s gardeners so going to the mansion was no big deal, besides getting a glimpse of Lord Beneviento from time to time.

🪡- She had to have some excuse for you to come into her manor alone. For some time she has been observing you from all windows of the estate and concluded she needed to have you, taste you, lock you away…

🪡 - She would trap you in once you placed the fabric on the table inside. You would panic at the sight of the doors slamming on their own, being in a dark and creepy manor such as Benevientos.

🪡- She would sneak around you in silence once she has you trapped. The dolls would move on their own in excitement and anticipation like their master. The whole atmosphere is making you panic with paranoia.

🪡 - Appearing in front of your vision suddenly with her arms outstretched to you. She rushes over before you could react. Suddenly being embraced by Lord Beneviento makes you stay still with shock, not knowing how to respond. You realize that her usual veil was missing too. You feel her hair tickle the side of your face.

“M-My Lord??…What are yo-“

“Silence.”

🪡- An unknown force would make you go nonverbal before feeling a sting on your neck that gradually gets worse. Donna is very sadistic when it comes to inflicting pain. So your whimpers and groans are music to her ears.

🪡- She would let go with a pop of her lips, licking an excess blood dripping from you. Looking directly at you once she is done. Having the biggest grin on her face, blush on her cheeks, and a little bit of your blood dripping from her mouth.

🪡 - There’s something so perverted about how she just wants you to herself, to play with and drink from.

🪡 - She will gladly leave you alone in the manor if you refuse to let her drink or give her resistance. Watching as you dodge unimaginable horrors chase you down to your new bedroom where she awaits you.

🪡 - Just holds you after she feeds from you. You would be pretty weak from how much she drinks from you to not oppose her cuddling.

“I can’t let you leave, I won’t let you!”

SALVATORE MOREAU

🐚 - Oh man, this guy is even more awkward than Donna when it comes to interacting with villagers.

🐚 - He would wobble out from his spongey abyss of the docks, and come watch you work on the windmill. You've had your share of encounters with Moreau, but always found it creepy he would watch you for a moment before approaching you.

🐚 - His bloodlust would not overtake him completely, he just had this urge to be around you all the time. He could never romantically love you since he held that spot for Mother Miranda, but he did favor you.

🐚 - One day you managed to injure yourself while hammering nails into wood. The hammer smashing your finger and breaking skin. You cursed to yourself and it seemed to draw Lord Moreau out of hiding to reach you. You jumped at first but calmed down when you realized it was just him. You showed him the little cut in your finger, signifying that you were alright. He offered you a handkerchief from his cloak to clean the blood dripping from your finger.

🐚 - You hiss at the sting of cloth rubbing against it, but it quickly subsides. You were going to toss it later, putting it in your pocket. The Lord blubbers out "W-Wait! Noo..I can take it if you'd like.." He says disappointedly. You raise an eyebrow at his reaction, but he's technically your boss so you return the handkerchief back to him. "I'm sorry it's dirty my lord, are you sure you want it back?"

🐚 - His pupils were dilated, his mouth agape as he watches the liquid is soaked up by the cloth he gave you.

"It's no t-trouble at all, I shall go fetch you some proper bandages..."

As he waddles away, he hides quickly from your view behind a boulder and sniffs the handkerchief and bites into it, trying to wring out any blood.

He would end up almost eating it before wanting to preserve your essence. 🫣

ALCINA DIMITRESCU

🩸- You were one of Alcina’s favorite servants. You knew all the rules like the back of your hand. There was no reason to brag about it though, you have done a lot precautions because you’ve seen what happens when you don’t follow in line. You just kept your head down and avoided her daughters like the plague.

🩸- Alcina does have a preference for man blood that she mixes in her wine. But she loves the taste of a fearful and devoted servant from time to time as well.

🩸- She would summon you randomly to her study, sending a maid to fetch you. The maid would look at you with pity. Nobody usually see's the lady alone unless its the head maid/butler or if you are getting fired. You respond with haste and drop whatever it is that you are doing to go there. Rushing through all servant corridors and arriving out of breath.

🩸- You would be filled with anxiety over what she could possibly want with you. She tells you to come in and to take a seat. You open the doors to your Lady in reading glasses with papers and books organized everywhere. She walks over to you as she closes up what she is doing. Towering over you as she approaches.

🩸- Much like a predator to a prey, she would circle around you as she makes small talk. And you make small replies back. She would make comments of how you are such a good servant to the Dimitrescu castle, making you turn red at the praise.

Stopping behind you, she leans down to whisper to you. Making you shake where you stand.

"-but you know Y/N, your most delicious quality is.. your obedience."

🩸- She would grab you from behind and drag you to the loveseat nearby, making you sit in her lap with your back against her chest. She uses one hand to raise your left arm up to her lips, the other is wrapped under your right arm and gripping your head in place. Your screams and cries of protest were not heard by her as she sunk her fangs into your forearm. The pain was awful, it makes your hand cramp and muscles sore from straining in one position.

🩸- If you kept freaking out as she drank from you, she would use the hand gripping your face to cover your mouth instead. Such a dreadful noise.

🩸- She wouldn't drink enough from you to make you faint, but you are most certainly weak and not in any shape to make a quick escape.

🩸- Shifting your position in her lap, she would move to carry you to her chambers for the night. All you see illuminating through the dark halls of the castle were those terrifyingly golden eyes of hers, peering down at you in her arms.

🩸- Would only approach you for your blood after the first bite, even if it meant stealing you away in front of everyone.

🩸- Will throw you against the wall if you refuse to give blood.

🩸 - Your neck and arms would be littered with dark lipstick and bite marks.

"Consider it a promotion, Y/N. You are now my new favorite drink."

KARL HEISENBERG

⚙️- This man is half lycan, of course he consumes blood.

⚙️ - He tries to reserve himself from drinking blood for as long as he can. To him it’s what separates him from his other monstrous siblings. He does get a vial from another Miranda every now and then, scolding him that he needs to take better care of himself.

⚙️ - His eyes would be blood shot and constantly have headaches when he craves blood. He’s more irritated and is easily pissed off. Making him take out a lot of rage onto his machines.

⚙️ - If it’s that time of the month for him when he transforms and joins the Lycan pack for a hunt, then there’s no controlling his blood lust.

⚙️- Meaning if you were to pass by in his factory, covered in sweat and body hot from working near the factory fires, he would pounce you immediately. Or if you were to approach him asking “Lord Heisenberg…are you alright?” He would grab you by the hand and hold you from behind, biting into your neck.

⚙️ - His bites are the worst, they are so painful it would make you well up with tears and hyperventilating after your initial scream of agony.

⚙️ - With his intense bloodlust he would most likely drink you dry, or be very close to killing you, making you go limp in his hold either way.

⚙️- If you woke up, it would be in an office/bedroom in his factory. Your neck would be bandaged and sore. You go to touch it but your hand is restrained by a cuff to the bed post.

⚙️ - He realizes its a better solution to his lycan transformation, just having a person for his own feeding so he doesn’t harm the village. At least that’s less of a bother Miranda which means she leaves him alone. Problem solved! But not for you. He would limit your exploring to only one side of factory, isolating you from the rest of your old coworkers who wondered what happened to you.

⚙️ - Will not hesitate to drink from you in his Lycan form as a punishment for refusing him. Which is way worse than dealing with his “human” form.

⚙️ - Is not great with wound aftercare besides bandaging your bite marks. He just treats you like a meal and would leave until he gets hungry again. Doesn’t bother talking with you unless it’s to give you an order.

“Normally I would have let you go, but I never thought a villager would be so tasty. So now you must stay. Or face becoming one with my factory Y/N!”

MOTHER MIRANDA

🕷️ - You just really have no choice when it comes to the villager leader. You are to do as ordered without question or face her wrath like everyone else.

🕷️ - Her interest in you only went so far as seeing how devoted you were to her. You would always offer yourself as a volunteer to help her or do small favors for Mother Miranda. Were you a good person? Maybe. Were you actually just trying to get in her good graces? Yes.

🕷️ - Miranda didn’t usually partake in consumption of blood. She left that sort of activity to her children mostly. From time to time however she would taste the samples in her lab of villagers who passed or failed her experiments for the Cadou. She would feel her body react positively to the small drink.

🕷️ - Recently she was feeling weak and exhausted every time she used her powers. Drained of all energy at the stupid meetings with her children regarding this pitiful village. She thought that she could try you out, and if you died in the process? Well, she could consume another.

🕷️ - The cruel thing is that she knew you wouldn’t refuse her request. You would do anything to be helpful or if use to her right? So just be silent and still.

🕷️ - “You want to help me don’t you, Y/N?” She asks with a malicious tone in her voice.

🕷️ - She would be up close to your face, her glowing golden eyes piercing into yours as she holds your face in her hands. She would slowly guide her hand behind your back, arching you and supporting your weight. Moving your face to one side, she would lean down and bite.

🕷️ - There is only a little pain from the puncture, but the sting of her sucking you blood out makes you yelp and twitch in her arms. You thought this would be over quickly but her lips have yet to leave you.

🕷️ - Once she has a taste it was difficult for her to stop. Her black wings come out and flutter as she drinks from you. In your vision, all you see is her blond hair and wings extending out before you fall into a slight blood loss slumber.

🕷️ - After the first taste, she did not want to let you go. You would tell the whole village how she abused your devotion just to take from you. As she locked up Mia in a isolated cell she would do the same to you. Except you were given more than Mia was. A bed and table with books. Your basic needs were met but your life was changed forever. Becoming only a blood pack for Mother Miranda to feed off of when she was feeling low. If you dared to give her any trouble in feeding from you she would discipline you until you understood your place, restraining you with black tree roots and muffling your cries with her hand as she would have her fill of you.

[horeformilfs]

Searching for Home

Dimitrescu Family x Gender Neutral Autistic Reader

TW: Bullying, Mention of Parental Death

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As the sun dipped behind the towering peaks of the Carpathian Mountains, casting a golden glow over the quaint village below, Y/N trudged out of the orphanage gates, shoulders hunched against the biting chill of the evening air. For seven long years, they had called this place home, but it had never felt like home. The laughter of other children echoed in the distance, a cruel reminder of their own solitude.

Y/N's steps faltered as a sudden cacophony of noise erupted around them. Startled, they instinctively covered their ears, heart pounding erratically in their chest. The world seemed to spin, the sounds blending into a nightmarish symphony of chaos. The older kids, faces twisted with malice, stood nearby, wielding an array of makeshift instruments to amplify the din.

"Look at the freak! Can't even handle a little noise," one of them jeered, his voice laced with cruelty.

Y/N's breaths came in short, ragged gasps as panic seized them, every nerve on edge. Desperate, they stumbled backward, eyes wide with fear, seeking escape from the overwhelming onslaught of sensory input.

"Leave me alone!" they cried, voice raw with emotion, but their words were lost amidst the clamor.

With a strangled sob, Y/N turned and fled, feet pounding against the cobblestones, tears blurring their vision. 

The village blurred past in a blur of colors and shapes, each alleyway a potential dead end. But Y/N pressed on, driven by a primal instinct to flee, to outrun the demons nipping at their heels.

Finally, as their legs threatened to give out beneath them, they stumbled upon the village church, its weathered stones looming like a beacon of refuge amidst the chaos. With one last burst of energy, they pushed open the heavy wooden door and stumbled inside, heart pounding in their chest.

As Y/N cowered behind the heavy wooden door of the village church, their heart still racing from the chase, they felt a sense of fleeting safety wash over them. The sounds of their pursuers grew fainter as they rounded a corner, their frantic footsteps fading into the distance.

Breathing heavily, Y/N pressed their back against the door, eyes darting around the dimly lit interior of the church. Shadows danced across the walls, casting eerie shapes upon the worn stone floor. With trembling hands, they reached out to steady themselves, fingertips grazing the rough surface of the doorframe.

Frantically, they scanned the room for any sign of movement, any indication that they were not alone. But save for the faint flicker of candlelight and the soft rustle of fabric, the church remained eerily silent.

Their gaze came to rest upon a faded photograph hanging on the wall, illuminated by the dim glow of the candles. It depicted a stern-faced woman, her eyes fixed in an unwavering gaze, her presence looming over the room like a silent sentinel. Mother Miranda, the villagers whispered, a figure of reverence and fear in equal measure.

Though Y/N had never been one for religion, in this moment of desperation, they found themselves drawn to the image before them. With a shaky breath, they bowed their head and clasped their hands together, fingers intertwining in silent supplication.

"Mother Miranda," they whispered, the words feeling foreign upon their lips. "Please... please help me. I don't want to go back there. I just want to be safe."

Closing their eyes, Y/N rocked back and forth, a soothing rhythm born from years of seeking solace in moments of overwhelming sensory input. They pressed their palms against their ears, willing the world to fade away, to grant them respite from the tumultuous storm raging within.

Unbeknownst to them, in the shadowed recesses of the church, a figure stirred. Mother Miranda herself, her presence as silent as a whisper, watched from the darkness, her gaze softening as she beheld the child huddled before her.

As Y/N's eyes widened in shock at the sight of Mother Miranda approaching, a wave of fear and uncertainty washed over them. Their instincts screamed at them to flee, to put as much distance between themselves and this enigmatic figure as possible. But as they pressed back against the solid wooden door, they found themselves trapped, with nowhere to run.

Miranda, sensing their distress, moved forward with slow, deliberate steps, her expression gentle yet unreadable beneath the mask that obscured her features. But as she drew nearer, Y/N's panic only intensified, their heart pounding in their chest like a trapped bird.

"Please, stay back," they whispered, voice trembling with fear, as they instinctively tried to shrink away from her looming presence.

Miranda paused, her keen gaze softened with understanding. She could sense the fear radiating from the child before her, could see the tension in their trembling form. With a silent nod, she halted her approach, giving them the space they so desperately sought.

But Miranda knew that mere words would not be enough to quell their fear, not when faced with the unknown. And so, with deliberate care, she reached up and began to unfasten the mask that obscured her face, revealing the woman beneath.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as the mask fell away, revealing features softened by compassion and empathy. It was unheard of for Mother Miranda to show such vulnerability, to strip away the veil of mystery that shrouded her every action. And yet, here she was, kneeling before them with a tenderness that took their breath away.

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as Miranda brushed a gentle hand against their cheek, her touch as light as a feather. But as they flinched away, overcome by a lifetime of mistrust and uncertainty, Miranda's heart ached for the pain that lay hidden within.

"It's alright, child," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm against their frayed nerves. "You're safe now. Tell me, what has happened? How can I help you?"

Y/N hesitated, their gaze flickering away as they struggled to put their feelings into words. But Miranda was patient, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm of their emotions. And as they finally found the courage to speak, halting and hesitant though it may be, she listened with an open heart, ready to offer whatever solace they sought.

As Y/N poured out their heart to Miranda, recounting the cruel prank and the years of loneliness and ridicule they had endured, Miranda listened with a compassion that spoke volumes. Her eyes softened with empathy, mirroring the pain reflected in Y/N's own gaze.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, my child," Miranda said softly, her voice carrying a weight of understanding. "No one should ever have to feel so alone."

When Y/N mentioned their parents, Miranda's expression shifted, a flicker of sorrow crossing her features. "I'm deeply sorry for your loss," she murmured, her voice laced with genuine sympathy. "Lycan attacks can be devastating. Your strength in facing such tragedy is admirable."

As Y/N hesitated at Miranda's offer of a hug, Miranda respected their boundaries with a gentle nod. "Only if you feel comfortable, my dear," she assured them, her tone warm and reassuring.

With cautious acceptance, Y/N leaned into Miranda's embrace, feeling the comforting warmth of her presence envelop them like a protective cloak. Miranda's touch was gentle, her movements slow and deliberate, as she wrapped her arms around them in a gesture of comfort and reassurance.

As Miranda stroked their hair with tender affection, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over them, a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos of their world. And as they pulled away from the hug, a hesitant smile tugging at their lips, they found themselves trusting this woman in a way they never thought possible.

With a soft rustle of fabric, Miranda replaced her mask, the enigmatic facade once again in place. "Come, child," she said, her voice gentle yet commanding. "I have a place where you will be safe."

As they walked together in companionable silence towards Castle Dimitrescu, Y/N couldn't help but notice the grandeur of their surroundings, the imposing walls of the castle looming overhead like silent sentinels. But though questions tugged at their mind, they remained unspoken, for now content to follow Miranda's lead.

Entering the castle, they were met by a maid, whose eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Miranda. "Are you here to speak with Lady Dimitrescu, ma'am?" she asked, her voice deferential.

Miranda nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, please inform her of our arrival," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

As the maid scurried off to relay the message, Y/N glanced up at Miranda, curiosity and uncertainty warring within them. "Where are we going?" they ventured to ask, their voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda's smile was gentle, her eyes filled with a promise of sanctuary. "You'll see, my dear," she replied cryptically, her hand resting reassuringly on Y/N's shoulder as they ventured deeper into the heart of the castle.

As Miranda led Y/N to the second floor of the castle, their heart hammered in their chest with each echoing step. The air felt charged with anticipation as Miranda knocked on a door, the sound reverberating through the quiet corridor. A muffled voice answered from within, and Miranda pushed the door open, ushering Y/N into the room.

Inside, a woman adorned in a cream-colored dress, a striking black hat perched upon her head, and leather gloves adorning her hands, turned to greet them. It was Lady Dimitrescu herself, her presence commanding attention as she rose from her seat, towering over them with an imposing stature that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.

Y/N's eyes widened in awe and trepidation as they beheld the formidable figure before them. They instinctively took a step back, their breath catching in their throat, but Miranda's reassuring presence at their side anchored them in the moment.

"It's alright, my dear," Miranda murmured, her voice a soothing balm against the rising tide of fear. "Lady Dimitrescu won't harm you. She just wants to talk."

Slowly, Lady Dimitrescu approached, her movements deliberate and measured as she knelt down before Y/N, her gaze gentle yet penetrating. "What is your name, child?" she asked, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her intimidating exterior.

Y/N's gaze dropped to the floor, their fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of their shirt. They mumbled a response, barely audible above the rush of their own heartbeat.

Miranda interjected, her voice calm yet firm. "Their name is Y/N," she said, her eyes meeting Lady Dimitrescu's with a silent understanding. "I would like to speak with you privately for a moment, if you don't mind."

Lady Dimitrescu nodded, her gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer before turning to Miranda. "Of course," she replied, her tone betraying none of the curiosity that flickered in her eyes. "We can speak in the study."

As Y/N waited alone in the room, a strange buzzing sound began to fill the air, growing louder with each passing moment. Their heart raced with apprehension as they turned towards the source of the noise, eyes widening in surprise as three figures materialized before them.

The first, with flowing blonde hair and piercing yellow eyes, stepped forward, her presence exuding an air of confidence and elegance. "Well, well, what do we have here?" she purred, her voice smooth as silk as she regarded Y/N with a curious gaze.

Y/N's breath caught in their throat as they tried to find their voice, the weight of the three women's scrutiny bearing down upon them. With a shaky breath, they managed to whisper their name, barely audible above the hum of uncertainty that filled the room.

The blonde woman smiled, a predatory gleam dancing in her eyes. "Ah, a visitor," she mused, her tone laced with amusement. "Well, little one, allow me to introduce myself. I am Bela."

As she spoke, Y/N took in her features, noting the drained mascara that framed her eyes, the bloodstains that adorned her lips like a twisted smile. Despite her ethereal beauty, there was something undeniably unsettling about her presence.

Beside her stood two other women, each bearing a striking resemblance to Bela in both appearance and demeanor. Daniela, with her fiery red hair and intense gaze, and Cassandra, with her dark locks and stoic expression, completed the trio, their presence looming over Y/N like silent guardians.

Together, they formed a formidable trio, their allegiance to House Dimitrescu evident in the flower tattoos that adorned their foreheads. And as they regarded Y/N with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, the air crackled with an unspoken tension, a silent invitation into the mysterious world of Castle Dimitrescu.

As the conversation flowed between them, Bela and Daniela peppered Y/N with questions, their curiosity piqued by the presence of this newcomer in their midst. Cassandra, however, remained aloof, her gaze flickering between her sisters and Y/N, uncertainty etched upon her features.

As the evening wore on, Y/N's exhaustion became palpable, their eyelids growing heavy with weariness. Sensing their fatigue, Bela gently inquired about Miranda and her mother's departure, her voice tinged with concern.

Y/N blinked owlishly, trying to recall the details of their departure. "I'm not sure," they admitted softly, their gaze wandering around the room until it landed on a clock hanging on the wall, its hands pointing to the late hour of 10 pm.

With a sigh, Bela guided Y/N to the couch, settling them between herself and Daniela. Daniela, ever the nurturing sister, retrieved a book and began to read aloud, the sound of her voice a soothing lullaby that washed over Y/N like a gentle breeze.

As the words of the story wove a tapestry of dreams, Y/N's eyelids drooped lower and lower, until at last, they succumbed to the embrace of sleep. Their head lolled to the side, coming to rest against Bela's shoulder, and she adjusted their position with a gentle touch, ensuring their comfort as she stroked their hair with tender affection.

Across the room, Cassandra watched silently, her expression unreadable as she observed the scene before her. But beneath her stoic facade, a flicker of something akin to warmth stirred within her, a newfound curiosity kindled by the presence of this enigmatic stranger in their home.

As Bela and Daniela exchanged whispers, their voices hushed with a mixture of curiosity and concern, Cassandra remained silent, her thoughts swirling like shadows in the depths of her mind.

"Did you notice anything strange about them?" Cassandra interjected suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet of the room like a sharp blade.

Bela and Daniela exchanged glances, their brows furrowing in contemplation. "Not particularly," Bela replied, her tone thoughtful. "Why, did you?"

Cassandra nodded, her expression grave. "There were a few things," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "They seemed... different somehow."

Bela's brow furrowed in concern. "Different how?" she pressed, her gaze searching Cassandra's face for answers.

Cassandra hesitated, her words carefully measured as she recounted her observations. "They had intense interests in specific topics, and their speech lacked inflection," she began, ticking off the points on her fingers. "They also displayed signs of anxiety, fidgeting, sensitivity to light and noise, and various tics and stimming behaviors."

Bela's eyes widened in realization, her thoughts racing as she considered Cassandra's words. "Do you think... they might be autistic?" she ventured, her voice soft with uncertainty.

Cassandra shrugged, her expression unreadable. "It's possible," she conceded, her tone cautious. "Perhaps we can ask them about it when they wake up."

Just then, the door opened, and Miranda and Alcina returned, their presence filling the room with a sense of calm authority. Miranda's gaze softened as she beheld Y/N asleep against Bela, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Bela turned to Alcina, her brow furrowed with concern. "What's going to happen now?" she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Alcina's expression softened as she regarded her daughters. "If Y/N decides to stay, they will be welcomed into our home," she explained gently. "But if not... well, we'll deal with that when the time comes."

Bela nodded in understanding, her thoughts racing with the weight of the decision that lay ahead. As she gently roused Y/N from their slumber, their eyes fluttered open, confusion etched upon their features as they took in the sight of Miranda and Lady Dimitrescu standing before them.

Miranda's voice was gentle as she explained the situation, giving Y/N time to process the offer that lay before them. And as they took a moment to consider their options, Alcina posed the question that hung heavy in the air.

"Would you like to stay with us, Y/N?" she asked, her tone soft with genuine concern.

After a moment of contemplation, Y/N met Alcina's gaze with a determined nod. "Yes," they replied, their voice steady with newfound resolve. "I would like that."

As Miranda reassured Y/N of their safety and well-being, a sense of relief washed over them, tempered by a lingering hint of hesitation. But as Miranda made to leave, Y/N's eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty, a silent plea for reassurance.

"Remember, my dear, you are in good hands," Miranda said, her voice soft with genuine care. "I will return in a few days to check up on you, and I'll come by weekly to see how you're adjusting."

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "Thank you, Miranda," they murmured, their gratitude evident in every word.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Miranda took her leave, her departure leaving an echo of quietude in her wake. Alcina stepped forward, her presence a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty.

"Come, Y/N," she said gently, her voice warm with reassurance. "Let me show you to your room."

But before they could move, Cassandra interjected, her voice filled with a quiet determination. "Mother, I have a question for Y/N," she said, her gaze fixed on her mother's face.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of yet another interrogation, their anxiety bubbling to the surface like a turbulent storm. But Daniela was quick to offer a reassuring smile, her voice a soothing balm against the rising tide of panic.

"Don't worry, little one," she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "It's nothing bad, I promise."

With a hesitant nod, Y/N braced themselves for whatever question lay ahead, their mind a whirlwind of uncertainty and apprehension. 

As Cassandra posed her question, a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sound of Y/N's quickening breaths. Their muscles tensed, every nerve on edge as they grappled with the weight of their answer.

Cassandra's gaze was steady, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern as she awaited Y/N's response. "Are you autistic?" she asked, her voice gentle yet direct.

"Yes," they whispered, their voice barely above a whisper, but it echoed loudly in the quiet of the room. "Yes, I am."

Instantly, a torrent of nervous energy flooded through them, their words tumbling out in a rush of panicked apology. "But if that's a problem, I can leave, I'll find somewhere else to stay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any trouble, I-"

But before they could spiral further into self-doubt, Alcina moved with a grace born of years of experience, kneeling before them and gently lifting their chin with a touch as light as a feather. She smiled reassuringly, her eyes warm with understanding.

"Shh, child, it's alright," she murmured, her voice a soothing melody that calmed the storm raging within Y/N's mind. "Just breathe."

As Y/N's frantic apologies subsided, Alcina listened patiently, her daughters and Cassandra gathered around in a circle of support. And as Y/N poured out their fears and insecurities, recounting the hurtful reactions of others in the past, Alcina's heart ached with a newfound understanding.

"You are not most people," she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "You are here with us now, and we are here for you. Your identity is not a problem; it is a part of who you are, and we accept you for it."

Moved by her words, Bela and Daniela stepped forward, their arms open in a silent invitation. "Are you okay with a hug?" Bela asked softly, her eyes filled with empathy.

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at their lips as they leaned into the embrace, feeling the warmth and acceptance of their newfound family enveloping them like a comforting embrace. And as they stood there, held in the embrace of those who now stood by their side, they knew, in that moment, that they were home.

With Y/N enveloped in the warmth of their embrace, Bela and Daniela exchanged glances, their expressions soft with empathy. Cassandra approached cautiously, her movements tentative as she joined the circle, her gaze meeting Y/N's with a newfound sense of understanding.

"Thank you," Y/N whispered, their voice tinged with gratitude as they leaned into the comforting embrace of their newfound family.

Bela's smile was gentle as she tightened her hold, a silent reassurance that they were welcome here, just as they were. "You're part of our family now," she murmured, her words echoing the sentiment shared by all.

As the embrace lingered, Alcina's gaze swept over her daughters and Y/N, her heart swelling with a sense of belonging that she hadn't felt in years. "Let us show you to your room," she said, her voice warm with affection.

Together, they moved as one, a united front against the uncertainties of the world beyond. And as they ventured down the halls of Castle Dimitrescu, Y/N felt a sense of peace settle over them, a quiet reassurance that they had found their place in this enigmatic world.

As they reached the threshold of Y/N's new room, Alcina turned to them with a smile, her eyes soft with motherly affection. "Welcome home," she said, her voice a gentle promise of the love and acceptance that awaited them within these walls.

As Y/N took in the sight of their new room, a sense of wonder filled their heart. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the walls, casting shadows that seemed to whisper tales of centuries past. It was a room filled with history and mystery, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the world beyond.

As they turned to thank their newfound family, they found themselves alone in the quiet of the room with only Alcina present. The echoes of their footsteps mingled with the hushed whispers of the night, a symphony of solitude that enveloped them like a comforting embrace.

Just as they were about to settle into their new surroundings, Alcina's voice broke the silence, her presence a comforting presence in the dimly lit room. "My room is right down the hall, dear," she said softly, her words carrying a sense of warmth and reassurance. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

With a grateful nod, Y/N watched as Alcina approached, her movements graceful and deliberate. Cupping Y/N's cheek gently in her hand, Alcina leaned down to press a tender kiss to their forehead, a silent promise of protection and affection.

"Goodnight, my child," Alcina murmured, her voice a soothing melody that echoed in the stillness of the night. "Sleep well."

With a smile tugging at their lips, Y/N settled into their new bed, their heart filled with gratitude for the family that had welcomed them with open arms. And as they drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth and love of their new home, they knew, in that moment, that they were finally where they belonged. 

[wintersangelic]

If I Loved You Less - A Cassandra Dimitrescu Angst Fic

"Cassandra should've known that a Dimitrescu falling in love with a human would never end well. Alcina learned that lesson the hard way."

Chapter: 1/5 ♡ Word Count: 3.6K ♡ Rating: T ♡ AO3 Link

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Three: Karl Heisenberg + Violent Night

The movie you want to watch is rather fitting for your partner. You drag Karl to the makeshift living space. The TV is old, but that doesn't mean that Karl hasn't tried to update it.

'Just because everyone else wants to be stuck in the past doesn't mean I wanna be.' Karl had muttered as he tinkered with the metal box.

"Are you sure it comes out tonight? I've got a lot of work to get to Buttercup." Kalr asks; you roll your eyes. You're pretty sure of it. "It played on the radio a few days ago that it would be out before Christmas." You answer Karl. "And all of this is necessary?" He asks, waving his hand around to the decorations filling the room with light and life.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. "Of course, it's all "necessary" Karl." You say, making air quotes out of your fingers. Karl sighs. "Fine, but the popcorn is all mine," Kalr says, taking the large bowl from the table and placing it in his lap. Large hand dipping into the bowl, grabbing kernels of popped corn.

The static on the TV screens blurs out, and the movie starts quickly. You curl into Karl's side, his eminence heat. Seaping from his skin through clothes to wrap itself around me like a heat blanket.

The mountains behind the factory keep the cold wrapped around us, though Karl says that keeps the super-sized bitch and her kids away. Regardless, Karl seems to be genuinely calm and even relaxed in the movie that plays on the screen. Your original plan had been to watch the movie alongside your boyfriend, but the longer you sit there with him. The longer your eyes drift over to Karl's face.

Gray hair litter his beard and mustache. A sharp nose that you want to reach out and boop half the time. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun, making his face more evident. His sunglasses were tossed off to the side table along with his worn-out hat.

Gloves sitting on top of them. It makes you jolt when Karl laughs at a line or two in the movie. Karl's right arm is wrapped around your shoulder, as he always does, keeping you tucked to his side.

Moments later, the light flickers as Karl burns the end of one of his cigars. The smoke filters into the air, making you feel at home. Karl smokes his cigar and laughs at a few lines for the rest of the movie.

Karl looks over at you, "What's wrong, buttercup?" He asks, his voice thick and smooth. "Nothin'." You mutter softly before returning your attention to the movie for which you have no idea what's happening. "Are you sure? Cause staring is rude, you know." Karl grunts out, with a chuckle rattling the both of you. You roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being caught.

By the movie's end, you've seen not enough to even understand what's happened. On the other hand, Karl is impressed by the film; he's always been a Western guy. Loving the gun-slinging cowboy. The violence usually follows them around on their horses' backs, but you can guess the violence in this movie is enough for Karl to enjoy it.

"Good pick, love," Karl mutters, stubbing his cigar into the ashtray. You wish you could stay like this forever, in the warmth of your boyfriend, in a fantasy world that doesn't exist outside the factory's walls. "I'm glad you liked it." You say as you try to snuggle further into Karl's side. "We should do this more often." He comments, letting you practically climb into his lap.

Completed on: 10/18/23

Posted on: 12/03/23

House Heisenberg-

Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List // Christmas Stories Master List

[writersbarrierblock]

begging begging begging BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES AND FULL CHEST

for a religious school/camp au run by alcina, donna, and mother miranda

my religious trauma wants it

[neos-schlond-poofa]

No, but seriously, imagine it:

Angie finally becomes human and starts a successful DJ-ing business and lets go of alcohol. Dani becomes a world-renowned athlete and falls in love with a cheerleader. Cassandra makes it huge on Broadway and beocmes an EGOT Winner, as well as falling in love with a nice paramedic from New York. Bela gets her heart back and becomes a school teacher, while also mending her relationships with her sisters. As for Alcina? She finds love in an artist and continues to build the finest art collection in the world. Donna takes up doll-making again and gets over her anxiety, creating a travelling store that sells her own custom creations and flowers. And Miranda? She lets go of her love for MC and adopts a young girl, letting go of her evil ways and closing down the school, realizing she was a bit insane. MC dies of a cocaine overdose. Elena finally becomes free of the coffee shop and starts her own coffee chain, which becomes even more popular than Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts. Mia's Pokemon collection ends up becoming the biggest in the world and she even gets her own character in the Pokemon games as a testament to how big of a fan she is. Heisenberg retires from his car repair shop and becomes a freelance welder. All the other students graduate and be successful in their lives. The Cass stans become stan twitter icons and end up becoming nurses. As all their futures unfold in the credits, Whistle by Flo Rida plays in the background as Cass arrives and starts to say "Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby, let me know. Girl I'm gonna show you how to do it and we start real slow. You just put your lips together and you come real close. Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby? Here we go!" And the screen fades to black, with a polaroid of all the characters waving and thanking the player for all they've done. Cue final credits. Then if things couldn’t get any better, Dan and Phil walk onto stage and kiss, holding the gay flag.

[sapphicrow]

RE8 Lords (+dimi sisters) Opinion on crocs!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mother Miranda

The bird mommy herself. A true lady. Gothic aesthetic and all.

I think she would be an avid croc hater

I mean, she works in a lab, closed toe shoes. They’re not very practical for experimentation or any thing else

Plus her other outfit is goddess apparel or old hag.

I just can’t see her enjoying them whatsoever. They clash with her whole vibe.

If offered, Miri would most surely wrinkle her nose and scoff at the very notion.

“Ugh. Begone, mortal. The day you goad me into those atrocities of footwear is the day I surrender my subconscious to the megamycete,” Mother Miranda waves you off with a flick of a taloned hand.

Mia left a pair in the lab once and she tried them on. They remind her.

Salvatore Moreau

Fish man!

Moreau would be a huge fan.

Seriously, he lives in constant sogginess. A pair of shoes that can fit his deformed and damp feet would be welcome.

He pads around the reservoir in crocs all the fricking time

Over time, the sound of the rubber squelch becomes associated with his approach.

He would be gifted his first pair, but soon amass a bit of a collection- his favorites are the blue pair and the black one, but he’s also got green.

(In the church) *squish squish squish squosh squish* “hi, mother!” Moreau garbles. “Like ‘em?” He asks, gesturing to the tye dye crocs currently adorning the lower half of his slimy body.

He doesn’t wear them in public after Mother Miranda glared at them though

Heisenberg

Metal bending dilf

My guy isn’t the biggest fan of crocs, they just don’t work for him

The factory is difficult enough to manage in steel toed boots. Rubber slippers are not ideal.

I think he wears them solely to meetings to piss off Mirander (it works every time)

He was approached by his nieces with a pair of solid black crocs, and they were too insistent for him to deny them entirely.

Heisenberg thinks they’re fine, simply not his cup of tea though.

“Fuck!” The lord curses, his voice echoing against the metal walls of the factory for the fiftieth time. “Damn pieces of junk.” Heisenberg mutters after dropping a piece of scrap onto his croc bearing toes once more.

Alcina Dimitrescu

No.

Just no.

Absolutely not.

Lady Dimitrescu , the countess, the favorite of Mother Miranda, mother of three, would not be caught dead in such apparel.

It’s less that she has an issue with their design, and much more that she’s disgusted with the thought of looking so undignified.

She wouldn’t be threatening anyone when she whips her crocs into sports mode before unsheathing her mighty claws.

Alcina doesn’t mind them on others, but not her. She’s a noble lady and far above such peasantry.

Also they don’t make them in her shoe size.

“What…” she drawls, looking scornfully down at the maiden presenting her with such blatantly hideous shoes, “are those?”

Donna Beneviento

The dollmaker and illusionist ~

Donna is chill, I’d imagine she wouldn’t have too strong an opinion on crocs

She owns a pair in black and likes to wear them around her workshop

They’re quite comfy, and since she’s not always on her feet, they serve as very nice house slippers

She likes to pair them with fluffy socks to really get the full coziness effect

Besides, her skirt is long enough where they’re not really noticeable

A quiet melody sways within the air of Lady Beneviento’s workspace. Humming to herself as she worked and Angie looked over her shoulder. Dexterous hands wield pliers to work the last bit of wire into the joints of her newest creation. And as a finishing touch, a mini croc is slid onto this doll. A small smile quirks her lips beneath the veil.

“I want some!” Angie shrieks once she sets eyes on the crocs.

Bela Dimitrescu

The eldest of the flies, and the blondest

Bela follows in her mother’s footsteps on this one, she despises crocs.

She simply doesn’t see the appeal.

They’re rubber, they’re not particularly fashionable, and they clash with the lace of her dress.

Eyeing her sister up and down, Bela just scoffs judgmentally before walking away.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Our delulu queen <3

She is the biggest crocs person ever.

She absolutely loves them, much to her sister and Mother’s dismay.

Dani just thinks they’re the coolest thing ever

You don’t have to lace them, there’s different modes, and you can decorate them??? What more could you ask for!

She had a whole wardrobe. I think she had every color. Depending on the occasion, she mixes and matches.

Dani is also big on jibbitz.

“Look!” The ginger squeals excitedly as she swarms into a maid’s face. “It’s a fly!” Dani says with a delirious giggle, shoving the new charm into the frightened woman’s vision.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

The ravenette of the trio

Cassie likes crocs a normal amount

She doesn’t own her own pair of course, the only reason she ever wears them is to snatch them from Dani and make her mad

She also delights in how Bela and her mom glare down at her whenever she wears them

All in all, Cass doesn’t wear them as a fashion choice, she wears them for the drama

“Hehehe, you’re coming with me,” Cassandra whispers to herself as she steals Daniela’s prized flamingo print crocs from her room.

[trippin-over-my-fandoms]

It’s my own personal belief/theory that the village does not celebrate Christmas or the typical American holidays and instead have their own built around the lords and Mother Miranda so here’s

Reader introducing the Lords to Christmas

* all are treated as romantic

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina is the only one of the lords (canonically, as far as we know) that isn’t from the village and is most likely from America or somewhere else in Europe so she certainly knows about Christmas it’s not anything new to her. She’s probably even done a Christmas Jazz album from her singing days. But it’s been years since she celebrated it.

So when you bring up the idea of celebrating Christmas with your love, she is surprisingly into the idea. Granted it will be no different from the typical winter festival in the village and castle but what’s a few decorated firs and extra ribbon gonna hurt.

Alcina is a horrifically wonderful gift giver. She pays close attention to you whether you know it or not and always knows the perfect gift for any occasion. She gives big and sentimentally in ways that you yourself didn’t even know you liked something. Plus it’s expensive.

When you teach her daughters about Christmas they are all into the idea. Krampus and Dirty Santa/White Elephant being their favorite Christmas traditions. Plus hot cocoa. They’d kill for it. Just… don’t get your mug mixed with theirs… they add blood as an extra ingredient.

Alcina’s favorite thing is playing Christmas songs remembers on the piano for you with you humming or singing along. She’s still very much musical and loves sharing her hobby with you. A little holiday twist makes it even more special.

Donna Beneviento

Donna is a little apprehensive when you first mention Christmas to her. She doesn’t understand it entirely but she’s willing to learn. And once she figures it out? She becomes a huge Christmas freak.

She loves to create things and is very crafty besides doll work so Donna has her house decked to the nines in pretty garland, lights, cranberry and popcorn strings, paper chains, her dolls even have festive dresses. Angie is a huge fan of the glitter. She loves whenever she can get her hands on it and will sprinkle it throughout the house.

So I hope you like glitter.

Donna is eager for you to teach her everything about Christmas. She thinks it’s such a beautiful holiday and loves all the decorations. Doing up a tree is her favorite part. Especially to do with you. Handmade and special ornaments with your names on them.

Her second activity is baking different dishes with you. Sweet, savory, her favorite recipes, your favorites- everything! Christmas is her new favorite holiday.

Salvatore Moreau

Once again, Sal is a Christmas newbie. He’s apprehensive similar to Donna but rather because he’s so loyal to the village’s holidays that he was raised on rather than it being so unknown.

But! You’ve celebrated all his favorite things with him in the past so he decides to give this Christmas thing a shot.

He may not be into the decorations or the cooking but he loves all the fun songs that you teach to him. The silly ones about this Santa Claus man and the reindeer, especially the red nosed one.

His ultimate favorite is the porcelain light up Christmas village.

Sal starts to collect (and even try his hand at making his own) porcelain houses and people. He’ll ask for your thoughts on it and different ideas on what to do with it.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl does not give you a chance to tell him about Christmas. He asks you before you can bring it up. He’s so desperate to know about things outside of the village, he’s just barely picked up radio stations, read books, and seen a few movies before mentioning Christmas. Not to mention a few of the other big holidays as well. So Karl asks you about them all.

Christmas rolls around and he’s more or less all in. He’s not as ooohed and awed by the decorations or cooking (but he’s happy to step back and let you so that if you want and he’d certainly participate if you asked him to, he’d do anything for you).

However- he is wildly into light displays.

Especially if he can make them himself.

Yeah he’s big into lights on your home (or the factory), full Christmas Vacation Clark Griswold esc, so many lights your power supply is going to be straining…

But he likes the 2D (sometimes 3D) light displays that he can make himself and attach lights to make cool pictures and animations. With you as his creative muse of course. He doesn’t know as much about Christmas so he’s relying on you and your expertise to direct him. And it’s another way to spend time with you while he works.

Mother Miranda

While Mother Miranda is from the village, she’s existed long before the lords and was part of the time when the village still celebrated national holidays. She’s only somewhat familiar with modern traditions due to seeking out further technology and help in her experiments so she’s spent time outside the village.

She’s not exactly thrilled when you bring it up. She cares for you dearly but Christmas? It’s been so long, she barely partakes in the new celebrations the villagers made up for her and her lords, Christmas was Eva’s favorite….

You have your ways and convince her regardless, just at least to take a small break from working so tirelessly. Compromise is a huge thing in a relationship with Miranda, often meeting in the middle between something and nothing at all.

Miranda no longer cares for holiday specific tradition or decorations or food or games- a silently left (simple yet surprisingly heartfelt) gift being left behind on a table for you one morning is more her speed.

Her secret favorite Christmas activity is sharing stories with you that she grew up on- Christmas folk tales that floated around the village every year over a century ago. A history that she’s likely the last to remember. It’s very special to her to get to share it with you.

[multimilfs]

Mother Miranda x Fem!Reader: A Taste of Mercy 

Summary: You've injured yourself in service to Mother Miranda. Before you can hide the damage, her eyes are upon you, and you're left to wonder if your time with her has truly expired.

AO3

A/N: So this is actually part 1 in a series of connected stories! I unfortunately can't post them and connect them as easily here as you can on Ao3, but whenever the others are posted, I'll link them here too.

I love Mother Miranda for just how... aloof her character is. We never see enough of her to understand her emotions or fondness like we can with Alcina or Donna. But the whole story comes to fruition because Miranda wants her daughter back so bad that she can't be completely heartless. I think she just has to... relearn showing love without lacing it with cruelty.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this first piece!

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix

Warning(s): Light body horror, Talk of death

You cradle the hand to your chest, squeezing your eyes tight to will away any tears. Your hand shakes violently. The wound is quickly spreading, pain searing over your flesh and nerves. 

“Show me.” 

Eyes blazing open, you spin on your heel, nearly knocking over the remainder of your project in the process. Standing just behind you is Mother Miranda. She holds her hands folded in front of her, wings resting placidly at her back. Gone is her usual gilded mask. Her metal talons remain on the hand she holds out to you. 

“Mother Miranda, I-” 

“Your hand.” She demands, straining with forced patience. 

You set your injured hand in her own. She closes her talons around it, metal scraping against the wound. It takes everything in you not to flinch. She pulls on your arm, forcing you closer, as she holds your hand close to her face for inspection. 

There is a ruffle of her wings behind her. A sign of displeasure, no doubt. It is hardly the first time you have managed to injure yourself. You have an uncanny way of doing yourself harm–and your goddess has an uncanny way of bearing witness to it.  

The crumpled parchment was barely enough to bear the ramblings of your mind. Harried as you were, your hand grazed the hot glass of your experiment, the force sending it toppling. You reached out to catch it; your reflexes graced you with triumph for a single moment before you felt the bite of your stupidity. Dark, molten liquid seeped onto your hand, promptly burning a path through. Tendons snapped like rubber bands, flesh–once solid–melted away like the wax of worn candles. 

“You have done yourself remarkable damage,” She comments, “Explain yourself.” 

“I-I was attempting to heat Lord Heisenburg’s blood, Mother Miranda, so I could examine how it would react with the Cadou in a frenzied state. While I was writing notes, I knocked it from its place and attempted to catch it. The blood did this.” 

Mother Miranda turns your hand with a critical eye, nothing showing on her face. You watch her wings for a sign. 

“This is not the first time you’ve injured yourself so gravely.” 

“No, Mother Miranda.” You agree. 

“I have no use for broken things, little human,” Her cold voice sends a pang of sadness through your chest, but you nod in understanding. Mother Miranda’s gaze is blank as she seems to look through you, “You understand this?”

Your voice wavers, but holds strong, “I do, Mother Miranda, I… I’m sorry.” 

The goddess releases a tch before digging her hand into your wounds. You bite back the shriek rising in your throat. You understand that your use dies when your health fades, but it hasn't stopped you from hoping–hoping that maybe, against everything, your worth to the cruel goddess before you was based on more than labor. Did it not count that you had been with her the longest? Had remained loyal at her side despite the amount of damage she’d dealt? 

You had always wondered how death would feel–would it be a moment of seemingly endless pain or true bliss. It was one of the only unexplainable things in this world to your bright mind. The curiosity had nearly made you long for death on several occasions, though only to feel it and satiate your interest. You hadn’t felt such a desire for understanding since Mother Miranda had plucked you from the village, sequestering you into her home, her laboratory, and filled your mind with experiments. 

It seems now that death falls under the latter. Complete bliss fills your senses. You open your eyes, curious and eager to take in whatever afterlife you’ve been granted. But you aren’t in the afterlife at all. Mother Miranda still stands before you, resplendent in her unholy glory. Her blank, cold eyes look back at you. She drops your hand from her grasp. For an instant, you swear you can see something new swim through her eyes. 

“You have a penchant for disobeying my orders, but still I must give them,” She says, ice coloring every bit of her voice, “Do not injure yourself like this again.” 

“I won’t, Mother Miranda.” 

Mother Miranda is not a foolish woman. She certainly isn’t foolish enough to believe your promise, try as you might to fulfill it. No amount of hope could stifle the inevitable. 

How lucky you are, then, that your goddess keeps you whole. 

[beastsovrevelation]

I was rummaging through Pinterest, looking for images to add to my hoard, and would you believe what I found?.. Look.

David's collegue in Romeo and Juliet looks a quite a bit like Doon Mackichan, no?..

CommanderSnake confirmed? I don't mind at all, you know I don't, even though Michael with male Crowley has such crackship energy.

Then...

Come on, if that isn't Miranda Richardson, she could be her twin.

Crowley and... Shax? Yeah, no. No no no. I'm with you on this one. Absolutely not.

[phantasia69]

The Way CapCom Marketed Alcina

I find it so funny that CapCom really leaned into the hype around Dimitrescu when they released the demo. It was even to the point where, for the trailer of the actual game, it only includes the village and Castle Dimitrescu and then in the final few seconds they show Heisenburg. 

Like they literally don’t show anything about the other lords and they barely show Mother Miranda as well.

They created so much hype around Alcina (and her daughters), only to kill them in the very beginning of the game. 

Damn.

[horeformilfs]

Rescued From the Nightmares

Miracina x Fem! Reader

TW: Blood, Mentions of ED Behaviors, Mentions of Poison and Torture

Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță = Calm down, little angel. You're safe

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

Amidst the dense forest, Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela, prowled gracefully, their senses sharp and instincts honed for the hunt. The crisp air carried whispers of prey, but something else lingered—a foreign scent, unfamiliar and intriguing.

Bela's keen nose twitched as she caught wind of it, her brows furrowing in curiosity. "Mother," she murmured, her voice a soft melody in the twilight, "do you smell that?"

Alcina, towering and regal, nodded, her crimson lips curling into a predatory smile. "Yes, my dear. I've noticed it too," she replied, her golden eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Let us follow it and see what secrets this forest holds."

With a nod from their mother, the Dimitrescu daughters ventured deeper into the woods, their steps silent and purposeful. Alcina's directive echoed in their minds—explore, hunt, but remain vigilant.

Bela suggested they split up to cover more ground, a notion that Alcina entertained. "Very well," she conceded, her voice carrying authority softened by maternal concern. "Bela, Cassandra, you shall pair up. Daniela, you are with me."

And so they dispersed, weaving through the shadows with practiced ease. Bela and Cassandra navigated the labyrinth of trees until they stumbled upon a clearing, where a young woman lay unconscious, her form draped in a cloak of darkness and blood.

Cassandra's brow furrowed in concern as she knelt beside the fallen figure. "What do we do, Bela?" she asked, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the night.

Bela hesitated, her gaze flickering between her sister and the stranger at their feet. "We bring her to Mother," she decided, her tone resolute. "She will know what to do."

They carried the unconscious woman back to the agreed meeting point, where Alcina and Daniela awaited their return. Alcina's gaze narrowed as she took in the sight before her, her maternal instincts tinged with caution.

"Who is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a velvet whisper laced with authority.

"We found her while exploring, Mother," Bela explained, her voice steady despite the weight of uncertainty.

Alcina regarded the stranger with a measured gaze before nodding in agreement. "We shall bring her back to the castle," she decided, her voice commanding yet gentle. With practiced grace, Bela transferred the injured woman into Alcina's arms, their journey back to the castle beginning in silence.

The grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu welcomed the returning huntresses with an air of quiet anticipation. Alcina's wife, Miranda, awaited their arrival, her presence a calming anchor amidst the storm of their nightly endeavors. As the Dimitrescu daughters approached, Miranda greeted them with a warm smile, her gaze flickering with curiosity.

"How was the hunt, my darlings?" Miranda inquired, her voice a soothing melody in the cavernous hall.

Cassandra's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as she recounted their exploits, her words painting a vivid picture of the night's escapades. But Miranda's smile faltered when her eyes fell upon the unconscious woman cradled in Alcina's arms, her brow furrowing in concern.

"What happened?" Miranda asked, her tone laced with worry as she turned to Alcina for answers.

Bela stepped forward, her voice steady as she explained their unexpected encounter in the abandoned base. Miranda listened intently, her expression softening with understanding as she absorbed the tale.

Alcina, ever composed, interjected with a gentle reminder of the woman's injuries. "Miranda, she is in need of your expertise," she stated, her voice a velvet whisper tinged with concern.

Miranda nodded, her resolve firm as she accepted the responsibility thrust upon her. With a graceful motion, Alcina transferred the unconscious woman into Miranda's waiting arms, their gazes locking in silent reassurance before Miranda disappeared down the dimly lit corridors, her burden cradled close to her heart.

Left alone with her daughters, Alcina's focus shifted to the task at hand. "Clean yourselves up," she instructed, her voice firm yet gentle. "Dinner will be served in a few hours."

The Dimitrescu daughters nodded in understanding, their movements fluid as they made their way to their chambers to prepare for the evening ahead. Meanwhile, Alcina dispatched a maid to fetch Miranda's equipment, ensuring that her wife had all she needed to tend to their unexpected guest.

Alone in their shared room, Alcina found Miranda tending to the stranger's wounds with practiced expertise, her hands gentle yet sure as she worked. With a soft smile, Alcina offered her assistance, their bond a silent testament to the strength of their union.

Miranda's skilled hands moved with precision as she tended to the unconscious woman, her focus unwavering despite the weight of uncertainty that hung in the air. Alcina stood by her side, a silent sentinel ready to offer assistance at a moment's notice.

As they worked, their conversation drifted to the mysterious circumstances surrounding the woman's appearance in the abandoned base. They speculated quietly, weaving tales of intrigue and danger, each possibility more fantastical than the last.

With practiced ease, Miranda finished attending to the woman's injuries, her touch gentle as she wrapped them in sterile dressings. She cleaned her equipment methodically, her movements a ballet of efficiency and grace.

A faint stir from the woman interrupted their quiet conversation, and Miranda's hand instinctively reached out to steady her. Alcina's voice, a soothing balm in the darkness, reassured the woman of her safety, her words a promise of protection amidst the unknown.

But the woman, disoriented and confused, attempted to rise from her makeshift bed. Miranda's gentle touch halted her movement, her voice soft yet firm as she urged the woman to rest.

"You're safe now," Alcina assured her, her gaze unwavering as she met the woman's eyes. "You're in good hands."

The young woman's words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "I need to leave," she pleaded, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "They'll hurt me if they find me here."

But her legs buckled beneath her, and she stumbled, leaning heavily against the sturdy wooden doorframe for support. Alcina approached her cautiously, her voice a soothing melody amidst the woman's turmoil.

"You're safe here," Alcina reassured her, her tone gentle yet unwavering. "No one will harm you."

Miranda's keen gaze softened as she observed the young woman's distress, her heart aching with empathy for the pain etched in her features. "You need antibiotics," Miranda explained calmly, her voice a steady anchor in the storm.

At the mention of needles, the woman's eyes widened with fear, her body tensing in anticipation. "No, please, not again," she pleaded, her voice tinged with anguish.

Alcina's brow furrowed in concern as she listened to the woman's words, a sense of foreboding settling over her. "What do you mean, 'again'?" she inquired gently, her voice laced with quiet concern.

"They..." the woman trailed off, her voice choked with emotion. "They always give me shots," she confessed, her words heavy with the weight of trauma.

Miranda guided the woman to the bed, her touch gentle as she offered comfort and reassurance. She sat beside her, her presence a steady anchor in the tumult of emotions swirling around them.

As Alcina administered the injections, Miranda offered words of encouragement, her voice a soothing balm to the woman's frayed nerves. With the first needle's prick, the woman held her breath, her knuckles turning white as she clutched Miranda's hand in a vice-like grip.

"Remember to breathe, sweetheart," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle reminder of their shared humanity.

The second injection followed, and the woman squeezed Miranda's hand tightly, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Miranda praised her bravery, her words a beacon of light in the darkness of her fear.

"You did very well, my dear," Alcina added, her voice warm with pride as she applied bandaids to the tiny puncture wounds.

The young woman's eyelids grew heavy, the effects of the medication beginning to take hold. With a soft sigh, she swayed dizzily, her strength ebbing away as she slipped from the edge of the bed. Alcina's swift reflexes caught her before she could hit the ground, her voice a steady anchor in the swirling sea of confusion.

"Easy now," Alcina murmured, her arms enfolding the woman in a protective embrace. With gentle care, she lifted her and settled her back onto the bed, beside Miranda.

The woman, her name still a mystery, sought solace in Miranda's presence, her heart yearning for the warmth of connection amidst the chill of uncertainty. Miranda welcomed her into her embrace, her touch tender as she brushed a stray lock of hair from the woman's face.

Alcina watched over them, her gaze soft with compassion as she took a seat beside the young woman. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on the woman's shoulder, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"You're safe here, sweetheart," Miranda whispered, her voice a gentle caress in the darkness. "Rest now, and let your worries fade away."

Alcina's voice joined Miranda's, their words weaving a tapestry of comfort and solace around the woman. "We'll protect you," she promised, her tone firm yet gentle. "You're not alone."

The young woman's lips parted in a feeble attempt to speak, her voice barely a whisper amidst the quiet of the room. Miranda's gentle touch silenced her, a soft shushing sound soothing her restless mind.

"Rest now, my dear," Miranda murmured, her voice a gentle melody in the darkness. "There will be time to talk later, once you're feeling better."

The woman, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion, nodded weakly, her protests silenced by the comforting embrace of sleep. She sank deeper into Miranda's arms, her body yielding to the pull of slumber as the warmth of safety enveloped her.

Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she gazed up at the two older women, a silent question lingering on her lips. Alcina's voice, warm and reassuring, broke the stillness of the room as she introduced herself and Miranda.

"I am Alcina Dimitrescu, and this is my wife, Miranda," Alcina explained, her tone gentle yet proud. "And you, my dear, what is your name?"

Miranda's gaze softened as she awaited the woman's response, her heart brimming with compassion for the stranger in their midst. "We would like to know who you are sweet girl," she added, her voice a gentle invitation to trust.Y/n's voice, soft and hesitant, broke the silence of the room. "My name is Y/n," she murmured, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she met Miranda and Alcina's gazes.

The apology tumbled from Y/n's lips, her voice laced with self-doubt. Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the unexpected apology, prompting Y/n to explain her concern about intruding on their relationship.

Alcina's gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between her and Miranda. "You have nothing to apologize for, my dear," Alcina assured her, her voice warm with reassurance. "You are not an inconvenience."

Miranda echoed Alcina's sentiment, her touch gentle as she urged Y/n to rest. "Sleep now," Miranda whispered, her words a soothing lullaby in the stillness of the room. "We'll talk more later."

With a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, Alcina bid Miranda and Y/n farewell, her footsteps fading into the distance as she left the room. Y/n shifted slightly, pulling away from Miranda's embrace, her eyes clouded with uncertainty.

"Are you alright?" Miranda asked, her voice soft with concern as she observed the turmoil in Y/n's expression.

Y/n's response was hesitant, her words tinged with guilt. "I shouldn't be getting so close to a married woman," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Miranda's touch was gentle yet firm as she drew Y/n back into her embrace. "If you need comfort right now, that's what matters," Miranda reassured her, her words a beacon of understanding in the darkness of Y/n's doubts. "You're not doing anything to jeopardize our marriage."

Y/n relaxed into Miranda's arms, her fears melting away in the warmth of their shared embrace. Miranda pulled the duvet over them both, cocooning them in a blanket of safety and comfort as Y/n nestled closer to her.

With a final kiss to Y/n's forehead, Miranda whispered words of comfort as Y/n drifted off to sleep, the weight of the world easing from her shoulders in the embrace of those who dared to care. And in the heart of Castle Dimitrescu, amidst shadows and secrets, a stranger found solace in the arms of those who welcomed her with open hearts.

Amidst the quiet intimacy of their room, Alcina returned from her brief check on the girls, her footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit chamber. She approached Miranda with a questioning gaze, concern etched into the lines of her elegant features.

"How is she?" Alcina inquired, her voice a gentle murmur as she regarded Miranda with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

Miranda's gaze softened as she turned to face her wife, a small smile gracing her lips. "She's sleeping now," Miranda replied, her voice soft with reassurance. "She was worried about us being married."

Alcina's brow furrowed in confusion at the revelation, prompting Miranda to explain Y/n's concerns. "She doesn't understand why she feels that way," Miranda added, her voice tinged with empathy.

A tender silence enveloped them as they pondered the complexities of Y/n's feelings. "I don't mind that she's come into our lives," Miranda confessed, her words a testament to the depth of her compassion.

Alcina's gaze softened with understanding, her hand reaching out to intertwine with Miranda's. "I agree," she murmured, her voice a whispered affirmation of their shared sentiment.

They lingered in quiet companionship for a while longer, their thoughts drifting amidst the gentle ebb and flow of conversation. Two hours passed in the blink of an eye, and soon, the aroma of dinner wafted into the room, heralding the arrival of their meal.

Miranda stirred Y/n gently from her slumber, her touch tender as she guided the sleepy woman to sit up. Y/n instinctively gravitated towards Miranda, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of the older woman.

Alcina's voice broke the silence, her tone warm with affection as she informed Y/n of their dinner. With her help, Y/n sat up and began to eat, the simple act of nourishment a testament to the newfound bond forged between them.

But as Y/n pushed the food around on her plate, Alcina gently urged her to eat, her voice filled with concern. "You should try to eat something, my dear. It will help settle your stomach," she suggested, her eyes flickering with worry.

Y/n hesitated, her appetite diminished by memories too painful to share. "I'm not hungry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda exchanged a concerned glance with Alcina, her brow furrowing in worry. "Is there a specific reason why you don't want to eat?" she inquired gently, her voice filled with empathy.

Y/n's gaze flickered with hesitation, her mind torn between the desire to confide in them and the fear of burdening them with her past. But finally, she found the courage to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

"When I was given meals at the base... they were usually poisoned," she admitted, her words heavy with the weight of truth. "They wanted to see which poisons I was immune to."

Shock and anger rippled across Alcina and Miranda's faces at Y/n's revelation, their hearts heavy with the weight of her suffering. "We would never do such a thing," Alcina vowed, her voice laced with righteous indignation. "We want you to be safe here."

Miranda's hand reached out to gently touch Y/n's, her touch a silent reassurance of their commitment to her well-being. "We want to help you," she murmured, her voice soft yet determined. "Please, try to eat something small. It will help with the antibiotics."

With a shared understanding passing between them, Y/n nodded slowly, her trust in Alcina and Miranda growing with each passing moment. 

As the weeks passed, Y/n found herself gradually integrating into the life of Castle Dimitrescu. She formed bonds with Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, the Dimitrescu daughters taking a liking to her gentle nature and welcoming her into their fold. But it was with Alcina and Miranda that Y/n grew closest, finding solace and security in their presence.

Despite the warmth of their companionship, Y/n continued to sleep on the floor each night, a silent testament to the lingering trauma that haunted her dreams. The softness of the bed and the comfort of the room were foreign to her, a stark contrast to the harsh realities she had endured before being rescued by Alcina and her daughters.

To Y/n, the comforts of the bed were reserved for those who had earned them, not for someone like her. So she sought refuge on the familiar embrace of the floor, finding solace in the hum of the heating and the warmth of a simple rug beneath her.

It was only when Miranda and Alcina gently encouraged her to embrace the comfort of the bed that Y/n began to realize the true extent of her fear of sleep. The gentle weight of the comforter, the warmth of the mattress, and the softness of the pillows were foreign sensations, overwhelming in their unfamiliarity.

But with their reassurance, Y/n tentatively allowed herself to sink into the embrace of the bed, the promise of safety and comfort beckoning her into the realm of sleep. Yet, as the night wore on, the darkness of her dreams crept in, suffocating her with its tendrils of fear and despair.

The first night in the shared bed was plagued by bone-deep screams, the echoes of her nightmares reverberating through the quiet of the room. Alcina and Miranda at her side in a n instant, their gentle words a soothing balm to her troubled soul as they guided her back to the shores of wakefulness.

But even as they slipped back into unconsciousness, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, tearing through the fragile veil of sleep with relentless ferocity. Hour after hour, Y/n fought against the darkness, her throat raw from screams and her body drenched in sweat.

Yet, through it all, Alcina and Miranda remained steadfast at her side, their unwavering presence a beacon of light in the darkness of her nightmares. And as the night faded into dawn, Y/n clung to their comfort, the promise of a new day offering a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of her past.

The echoes of Y/n's screams filled the room, jolting both Alcina and Miranda from their sleep. Right away, they were at her side, their comforting presence a shield against the encroaching darkness of her nightmares.

Miranda gently cradled Y/n in her arms, feeling the tremors that coursed through her body. "Draga mea, shh, you're safe," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody in the night.

Alcina's hand rested on Y/n's shoulder, her touch firm yet gentle. "Îngeraș, we're here for you," she reassured, her voice a comforting murmur.

Y/n, caught in the throes of her nightmares, clung to Miranda, her tears soaking into the fabric of her nightshirt. Between sobs, she tried to articulate the horrors that plagued her dreams, but her words were disjointed and unintelligible.

Miranda pressed a tender kiss to Y/n's forehead, her voice a calming presence amidst the storm. "Shh, my dear, it's okay. We're here with you," she murmured, her fingers gently stroking Y/n's hair.

Alcina leaned in, her lips brushing against Y/n's temple. "Take your time, îngeraș. We're not going anywhere," she said, her voice a steady reassurance.

The trio remained intertwined in the bed, a tableau of comfort and solace in the face of Y/n's turmoil. Alcina and Miranda worked in tandem to calm her racing heart and ease the tension that gripped her.

As Y/n continued to cry into Miranda's neck, Alcina whispered soothing words in Romanian, the melodic cadence a balm to Y/n's restless soul. "Liniștește-te, îngeraș. Ești în siguranță," she murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby.

Miranda continued her soft reassurances, offering a comforting refuge for Y/n to lean into. "It's alright, my dear. We're here to help you through this," she whispered, her words a promise of unwavering support.

After some time, as Y/n's sobs began to subside, Alcina and Miranda exchanged a knowing glance. "Let's talk about it in the morning," Alcina suggested, her tone filled with understanding.

Miranda nodded in agreement, gently wiping away Y/n's tears. "Sleep, Draga mea. We'll face this together when the sun rises," she murmured, her words a gentle promise of a new day, free from the shadows of the night.