#lord dimitrescu x reader

[cillivnz]

Hi 👋 I see you write for Lord Dimitrescu (miss a spot, hit the spot was brilliant and I would devour more) and I saw that you are taking requests, what do you think about monster hunter!reader x Lord Dimitrescu? You can take this in whichever direction you like best, but I do have a prompt idea!

Lord Dimitrescu and his sons find a trespasser on their land and Dimitrescu takes her in as his guest/prisoner thinking that she is a clueless lost traveler, not knowing that she's a hunter willing to get close to him by any means necessary, even if it means seducing a monster. Gaining access to his infamous library full of books on how to kill every monster known to man is just the first step, what she really wants is to find out the family's weaknesses and get lord Dimitrescu to let his guard down enough for her to kill him and every last member of his twisted family. Or at least that was the plan...

I just love villain gets the girl/ corruption stories and the idea of someone rolling up into that castle with every intention of wiping out the evil that lives there, but getting seduced instead... 😍😍😍

Love your work!!!

façade of seduction [lord dimitrescu]

PAIRING — LORD DIMITRESCU x MONSTER HUNTER!READER

WORD COUNT — 12.6k+ (i’m so sorry, it’s for the plot!)

WARNINGS — SMUT. eighteen+. AFAB!reader, dark arts, necromancy, the supernatural, mentions of murders, beheadings, cannibalism, vampirism, extremely dubious consent, cursing, extreme gore (blood, cuts, stabbing, mass murder, executions, etc.), reader uses seduction as a tactic, death of family, size kink, age-gap, degradation, pet-names, mentions as well as performed oral sex (talk of male!receiving, performed cunnilingus), fingering, female masturbation, mentions of male masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex, weird & unspecific AU, creampie, cum-eating, breast/nipple play, clit stimulation, extreme descriptions (?), kinda sorta brat-taming.

A/N — whoa, baby! she’s done! firstly, let me just shower this anon with kisses for trusting me such an amazing prompt! thank you, you beautiful soul. i had a blast writing this, and i’m sorry i couldn’t finish it sooner :’( you’re a literal genius, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this, and thank you for the kind words! secondly,

i tried incorporating as much lore from the game as i could, majority of the plot is my own fictional work, and the rest [credited to the game] may have been tampered with to suit the plot of this fiction.

Lady Elvira Natalia Stoica is an original character — INCLUSIVE OF ETHNICITY, RACE, COLOUR, BODY TYPE, etc. the only definite characteristic she has is that she is reader’s doppelgänger with an identical appearance, and that her family is of the same origin as The Dimitrescus (Romanian).

Alcina Dimitrescu’s gender-bent version is named Alcides Dimitrescu in my fiction. the credit of his sons’ names goes to @angel-hawthorne ’s comment under this post.

there’s some deliberate references to my other Lord Dimitrescu fiction. read it HERE!

NOTES [excuse inaccurate translations]

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" : You idiots! Is this how you treat our guest?

"Oaspete? Dar ea—" : Guest? But she—

"Scuzați-vă." : Excuse yourselves.

căprița mea mică : my little doe

cameristă : maid

Pentru dumnezeu! : good god/for god’s sake!

𝓗unters.

Your father before you, and his before him. Monsters, demons, deities; anything of supernatural order, possessing paranormal traits needed to be laid down, and your family was bestowed with the responsibility to do so. They told you, you were god-gifted; possessing an astounding memory. It was as if you soaked in every word you read in journals rich in paranormal history, and carved every word into your brain with your own hand.

Those ungodly creatures fumed at the audacity of a mortal family killing the abysmal aristocracies in the name of slaughtering abominations.

How proudly you awarded yourselves the title of Vânători de urâciuni — Hunters of Abominations. Soon enough, though, the leaders of the Four Houses knew a lesson needed be taught, example be set; actions have consequences, and after all, you were mere mortals. Audacious, dangerous mortals.

The last of the Four Houses needed to be hunted down. Your father, your uncle, your brother managed to wipe out the other key members, before it was about time the reaper caught up to them. Weeks, months went by in weeping for them, never letting their caskets dry, but it was about time you stopped mourning. This isn't what you were raised to do — whom you were raised to be. There was no way in hell you'd let the last Family standing think that the danger was over, not when you found out that it was on their cue, their command, that the guillotine that slashed through your family's head held high, became the inevitable demise of the men of Vânători de urâciuni.

'Fuckers even had the audacity to send the heads back, all nice and packaged, and signed. It was then, you realised, the weight of your name's responsibility lies on your shoulders, now. Mother was too deep in the waters of depression, perhaps, vengeance would serve as her lifeguard, and you sought to get it. For her sake, and yours.

Packing the the remnant of your belongings, primarily, lore on whatever mutation resembled that of what you've heard the family to be; barbaric, and vampiric, you set voyage to Castle Dimitrescu, the Lord's stronghold within the vicinity of a titular Eastern European village; Romania, in other geographical terms.

After weeks on foot, travelling from place to place and squeezing in some good o'l slash-and-dash of monsters into your quest, you reached the abysmal castle. The oppressive aura surrounding The Dimitrescus' colossal abode could be felt miles away from its actual foundations, the monotonous venus blue atmosphere, the trees that have been decayed for decades, peering into your periphery, mortifying the sight of Castle Dimitrescu, even more. You shake off a shiver, determined strides leading you forward. An ominous forest welcomed you, seemingly, the flora responded to every step you took on the onyx soil; you were not too far from the gigantic gates of the castle, deciding to take a breather and assess just what you were dragging yourself into, the massive mountainous foliage providing a safe haven, temporarily.

Rummaging through the contents, page after page, you landed on Wendigo. You knew your ancestors categorised mutations in the same category as a Wendigo, it being the severest form of inhumanity; the mutated man would resort to cannibalism, still humanoid — tall and pale with elongated limbs and pale yellow eyes. If the Dimitrescus were anything like a typical mutated Wendigo, you hadn't thought this through. Then, you remembered your brother's journal.

He was vague with words, often scribbling up a précise at the end of a hunt. Too consumed by your tears, you initially forgot about it, until you realised halfway through your voyage that your mother packed his journal for you, and some documentations recorded by your father and your uncle in their youth, though, you highly doubted you'd be coming across an extinct creature.

There it was — the last page of his journal — the twenty-seventh page to be precise, with triple the pages still empty; clean slates like a reminder of his unlived life, the life that was taken away from him.

You smiled fondly at his handwriting, letting your fingertips trace the scribbles, how deeply the quill was engraved into the paper. You remember laughing at his handwriting, growing up, how your mother would ask him to get a doctorate to match his stereotypical physician's handwriting, but this is all he knew — all you knew. Hunting was your profession, your life and lifestyle, and now, inevitably, your demise, too. You began reading, as I said, your older brother, a master at scribbling précise.

You were unsure, however, when he'd got the time to write down about The Dimitrescus, having never come face-to-face with the tyrants. It seemed your brother's first guess, too, was 'Wendigo', which he scratched down, only to pen it down again, bigger and emphasised, once he enlisted 'Cannibalisme'.

Your heart sank at the etchings.

Even for someone like him, these were too cynical, like he were losing his mind at the mere thought of them: 'one LORD — THREE SONS', it read. 'Blood disease??', 'PARASITE??', 'VAMPIRISM'? That would mean— "Oh." You stood corrected when just below the analysis was a remark, "NO WEAKNESS TO SUN OR WEATHER". Sometimes you swore you and him had the same braincells, always jumping to the same conclusions, which only made the desire to avenge him overpowering.

Your eyes traveled to the end of the page, the last of ink spilled on the worn out pages of your brother's journal, 'NEOPAGAN CULT', 'BLACK GOD'. With widened eyes, and a sinister feeling you couldn't yet shake away, your eyes dart to the next, last page.

There was a symbol maniacally delineated, labelled as the same reports on the previous page. 'NEOPAGAN CULT SYMBOL', and at the bottom of the page, the last thing your brother ever did write was, 'THE CULT OF THE BLACK GOD'. You subconsciously traced the diagram, only to see the graphite taint your fingertips. Your mind was racing two hundred miles per hour, trying to put the pieces of a fatally intricate puzzle together. Your brother's journal, the last of the contents were mere observations, unlike the rest of the pages that are filled with methods of executing generations of monsters.

But for The Dimitrescus, the fact that 'most powerful family' was written with emphasis only made you scowl. You searched frantically in your bag for the journals of your father, your uncle; anything that spoke more about this parasite and the said Black God.

Glancing back at the foot of the palace, you had to do a double take when you saw the guards leave the premises, bread and wine in hand. Their chuckles could be sound from the heart of the forest, even though they repeatedly 'shushed' one another, saying "the Lord" would put their "heads on a stick".

You take their departure as your cue and pace quietly towards the castle. You stood face to face with the colossal gates, doing your level best to push them open, just enough to sneak in, but the big dumb fuckers wouldn't budge. Scoffing, as fate would have it in your luck, you began scanning the perimeter for any safe way in, otherwise, you sure as hell knew how to make an entry.

"Ain't no fucking way," you'd pretty much lost all hope, not realising when your brother wrote down, "tall", it included the infrastructure, too. It was then your eyes noticed one particular stone brick placed slightly outward, and the one above it, and then the one above it, outward enough for you to step on, up, and grip the grotesque grill, securing the premises from people exactly like you.

The first step up was easy, the stone steady enough to carry you, or so you thought for when the second you stepped onto the next one, the one below fell to the ground, shattering to bits. You eyed the stone your foot was on currently, leaping when realisation hit you. By the time you rock-climbed your ass up to the top, the whole way up had crumbled down. You gripped the gothic grill, not taking the maker of it to be a sadist, for it sliced the flesh of your palm even through the slightest contact. You winced, looking back at the broken rocks, perhaps, a good omen; no one would suspect you climbed up the wall, now.

Crossing the grill, you jumped down as silently as a human could, looking back at your newfound enemy, the grill, only for it to be leaking with crimson. You groaned at the sight of your blood, thinking you were better than this, letting some metal get the best of you, but the immense pain from the cut made your head a little dizzy. Shaking the odd feel off, you proceeded leftward, walking further in to be greeted by what seemed to be a courtyard.

No servants, chamberlain nor staff was seen out and about, quite contrary to what one would expect from the functioning of a castle this mighty. Though the odds were in your favour, it didn't seem so; it's quiet, too quiet. Nothing other than a raven's screech and the flap of the wings of a murder of crows was heard for miles. Your steps had quickened at the sight of a door, finally leading you inside. As you inspected it, you sensed a magical aura around it; you could use a spell to crack it open, but that would cause bring attention you did not need at the moment. So, you pull a pin from your hair and apply the cheapskate thief method, and lo and behold, you were in.

Fuck yeah.

Closing the bulky door as silently behind you as you could, you were slammed right back into it, while what felt to be a talon instead of a hand wrapped around the back of your throat. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Said an anonymous voice, cuing laughter from two more.

Fuck, no.

The last thing you remember was a pair of hands squeezing your waist, one choking you, while one hand ghosted over your face, causing a wave of unconsciousness to pass over you.

Chained; you groaned, a pounding ache ringing in your head like an alarm, your eyes blinked, close to a hundred times to get accustomed to your dark, unfamiliar surroundings, while your nose burned with the stench of— burning bodies?

You lifted your head to see three tall figures illuminated by the feeble attempts of a torch. "Alas, sleeping beauty wakes." You heard one taunt, a raspy baritone to his voice, "No fun — I prefer them unconscious," said another with a similar tone. "Well, you're no fun if you don't like to watch the fear in their eyes when they beg you for their life," said the third. The conversation flowed more amongst themselves, quite rude to not have included the meat of the matter — you, but what more could you expect from The Dimitrescu Boys? Oh, you were sure it was them. 'One lord — three sons', you remembered, and no odds suggested they were servants or guards. Not with the way expensive jewels embellished their stallion necks not-so-subtly, like an all-time reminder of their aristocratic status. 'Pathetic,' you thought, it seems no matter the day or age, the breed of "daddy's money" remains as obnoxious as ever.

While they bickered amongst themselves, you took the time to take in their appearances: Handsome, irrelevant. Tall, but no more than an average case of gigantism in most villages. Yellow eyes, but not humanoid — no, fully, thoroughly (so it seems) human. Could this be another variety? Hybrids, perhaps, since Vampirism was in the books of possibility. That could explain their immunity to weather conditions. Their facial features became vivid all of a sudden, and you noticed the blood smeared all over their faces. Paying heed to your iniquity, perhaps even irked expression, the boys smirked devilishly; not charming, dangerously, Lucifer-ishly, but satanically. You weren't into the lighter side of magic like your mother, only using it grotesquely, but you knew aura-reading, even envisioning, like the back of your hand, and theirs was sinister: an abysmal shade of black surrounding them, with occultism dancing between their physical forms in the fiery colour of hellish hues.

"Tell us, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" One questioned, "Hm, never seen one so beautiful." "Is she even real — ethereal." "Makes me almost not want to eat her." Your eyes widened at the last remark, "Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely." Their shark-like smiles grew wider, subconsciously causing you to back away from them while they inched closer, ready to pounce on you and relish your beauty. "What do you have there, boys?" Asked the deepest voice you'd ever heard, from the other side of what you now realised was the dungeon. You were taken aback at the intrusion, silently thanking your saviour, even if it were the man himself — Lord Alcides Dimitrescu, head of Familia Dimitrescu.

His sons scattered immediately, letting their father rest his eyes upon you. "Food, father," one spoke eagerly, as if trying to impress his old man. "We saw her trespassing in the courtyard, and then she came inside." Spoke the other. "You could have her," said another, "If you save us a taste." Your face lost its colour when a ice-cold hand wrapped itself around your throat, yanking you up with one lift, and throwing you towards the bars between you and the mammoth Lord. His devilish expression— softened? "Elvira!" He exclaimed softly, reaching for your face, but the second his hand tried to snake past the bar, he winced in contact, the metal bar hissing with effervescence. Weakness?

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" The man was fuming: a flabbergasted expression on the said idiots' faces. "Oaspete? Dar ea—" "She can do as she pleases in my home." The man spat venom like thunder, his hateful expression turned to apologetic and caring in the blink of an eye when he turned to you. "Let her out this very instant." He glared at his sons one last time before turning away and saying, "The longer you wait, the more severe will be the outcomes."

So you were rushed out the dungeon and sent to the guesthouse.

The chamberlain had been waiting for you there at the direct orders of her master. "Lady Stoica, We're truly very sorry for the inconveniences caused to you. The Lord gifts you these gowns as his sincerest apology. He'd love for you to join him for supper once you have freshened up. Step out of your chambers, when you're done, and I'll be happy to take you there." You didn't acknowledge her, only awaited her leave so you could examine the gowns she had motioned towards while babbling courtesies you didn't give a fuck about. It'll definitely take more than four gowns to earn forgiveness for the treatment meted out to you down in the dungeons, but you wanted to give the tyrant lord a little bit of credit, for the gowns were stunning.

As you took in the details of each cloth, you came upon a note, which read: Sweetest Elvira,

Forgive my imbecile progeny, if you think they are worth it, but let us celebrate your presence, still, in my abode. Would you be so kind to accept my invitation for dinner? I have long yearned your company since the last time Lord and Lady Stoica visited.

Hoping to have you with me,

Alcides Dimitrescu.

Your blood boiled at his handwriting. It was the same intricate, royally cursive writing that signed the parcel of your family's heads.

You headed into the bath with murder on your mind; no matter how many times you'd sink into the warm waters, the heat only aggravated your fuming self. It was rosewater, the scent made your mind trail back to days of yore: when your mother would set up baths like this for you, the sweet scent of herbs and nature's warmth filled your hateful mind with nostalgia, then worry. Your mother had the most fight in her, no doubt about that, but that didn't mean she resorted to it easily; always seeing the best in people, giving them countless chances to repent. A generous, godly trait, but fatal in a world dominated by people like the man you were to meet with for dinner— supper, or whatever. You were just glad you weren't being served as the main course.

For now.

As you dried yourself up, your mind replayed the conversations, the characteristics and behaviours of the family. How he called you, 'Elvira'. Yes, Lady Elvira Natalia of Familia Stoica, another noble household your family put an end to. The irony lay in her appearance: the two of you looked alike — no, identical. Perhaps minor attributes set the difference between you two, or the fact that you put a bullet between her eyes — eyes just like yours; it was the reason why the Vânători de urâciuni men hesitated to kill her — sister, daughter, and niece. Not you, never had you hesitated. It's what set you apart in a man's world. If a woman's emotions got the best of her, than lucky for you and unfortunate for the whole world, the only feelings coursing through your mind like the blood in your veins were bloodlust. Blood and Lust, as your mind trailed back to Lord Dimitrescu—

Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu.

He was tall, so tall, he had to crouch to an uncomfortable extent just to get a proper look at your frame through the dungeon bars. His raven locs and beard: neat as a lord, rugged like a pirate; his sharp nose, his thick, furrowed brows, his luscious lips and those eyes. Those fucking amber eyes, captivating, devouring you like a fox after literal meat. Their hue was as fluorescent as a Wendigo's, then how was he not like one? How is he so devilishly handsome?

Stuck in a limbo, half- hypnotised with hazy memories of the Lord, memories you were yet to make with him, you were left enchanted; like he had cast a spell on yo— "Holy fuck." That's it. It's the only logical reason behind such profound emotions. He had cast a spell on you. It could've easily been the waters, you had bathed in them, let the rose waters soak every inch of your skin. Or worse, his eyes? You had definitely not been that out of it to imagine them glowing in the dark, but if he truly practised necromancy at such a profound level that a mere look in your direction left you enamoured, then you had to come up with a plan, and come up with a plan fucking fast.

Despite your certainty that the only way you'd feel something so unlikely for a man who was responsible for the death of family, was via nécromancies, you still had to be sure. So, you performed an indication ritual. In a vessel, you stored the possible method of enchantment — the bath water — along with the blood of the enchanted. You prick your finger deep enough to get ample beads of crimson out, letting them drop into the vessel. Now, if by dawn, the contents of the vessel turn potently black, your suspicions are true, and the tyrant Alcides, indeed, cast a spell on you, but if it were to remain colourless, than the worst of your concerns has arisen, for you'd have willingly let lust overpower the balance of bloodlust in the weigh of your emotions.

Placing the vessel underneath your bed, you begin dressing. The odds were too ironic not to choose the rose coloured gown for the evening, so you wore it, feeling condemned to. Fixing whatever you deemed necessary, you stepped out of your room to find the chamberlain stationed exactly where she said she'd be.

Her breath hitched a little, eyes widening as she saw you turn towards her, "You look beautiful, Miss Stoica," was her way of seeing 'you clean up pretty nice for a dirty mess in the dungeons', but you paid no heed, letting the woman escort you.

The walk to the Lord's dining area was awkward, and fearful for the servant. There was no denying you resembled the heiress of one of the Seven Royal Families, but you hadn't thought your own victim's identity would play as your decoy in your most fatal mission.

You didn't blame them, you were dumbfounded at the striking resemblance, yourself.

The hair, the skin, the features; it was without a doubt you killed your doppelgänger that day, and though you were never one to follow rituals of lore, it says, 'the slaughtering of one's self' — a doppelgänger — 'is the greatest sign of one's power and control', so it was no wonder since then you had long been feared in every corner of Eastern Europe, but you never earned notoriety, nor make a fuss over the death of The Stoicas, which is why everyone in Castle Dimitrescu believes you to be her, for they think she is what you are; alive.

"We've arrived, madam. If you need me, please don't hesitate to call." She gave you a knowing look, one of empathy? Weird. Interestingly weird. You only nodded, before pushing the glass doors open, and letting yourself in.

Alcides sat with the three of his sons, you'd heard him call them Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, not knowing which one is which, but you doubt names matter when their death's are destined by your hands. As if sensing you, something you'd mentally categorise among his vampiric characteristics, his head shot up from his sons and immediately those amber eyes were on you, ripping through your dress, eating you alive. His lifeless skin flushed at the sight of you, wet hair clinging to your frame so perfectly, he could smell the shampoo from here. How tightly the dress hugged your curves, how accentuated the rose colour of the gown made your ethereal body. Your plump, pouty lips were rosy like the gown, an even prettier colour, the sudden blush that dared to creep on your face, your determined brows raised a little at the shameless attention you were receiving, your big, radiant doe eyes widening, pupils dilating, and your long lashes batting at his direction.

"Elvira." He rose from his seats, as did his sons, heads snapping right at you to shamelessly ogle at you. On seeing that the look of disgust on your face was directed towards his sons, he shot them a fuming glare, causing them to nod an apology and immediately be seated again.

"Thank you for joining me." He said, softly, awaiting you. You moved closer, deciding to be seated beside the lord, across from his sons. "How have you been, my dear?" His hand found yours, yours minuscule in his clasp. "I had been fine, until certain miscreants accused me of trespassing."

You shot the three culprits a glare, and rightly so. Alcides eyed his sons, clearing his throat obviously when his sons remained oblivious to his cryptic signs.

"We're, uh," began one, "We're sorry, Madam Stoica," continued the other, "We didn't mean for any of that to happen, we just wanted to scare what appeared to be an uninvited guest at the time." "Had we known it was you... well, let's just say your welcome would've been different. Mostly." Finished the last, and your mind immediately caught on to the insinuation:

"Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely."

You could see the man's blood boil beside you, "Scuzați-vă." He growled, and you caught a glimpse of just how much fear he's instilled into his children, for they immediately excused themselves from the table and left with hurried steps.

"Pardon them, I don't know where I went wrong in raising them." He sighed once they were out of sight, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You've never been one to sympathise with an enemy, but maybe sympathy isn't what'll lead to his slaughter; seduction is.

You wordlessly place a hand atop his, earning a soft gasp from him. His eyes searched your face, and when you couldn't help but give him a small smile, he grinned; from ear to ear, letting his pearly fangs rise from their pillowy coverings, his lips, which he soon had to bite to control his giddiness. "Oh, Elvira," his voice was soft, a mere yearn lingering in the warmth of the room. Had it been this hot since you stepped in, or had the flush of your cheeks been indicating otherwise? "You're so beautiful." His other hand tucked the stray strand of hair falling onto your face, behind your ear. You felt a tinge of bitterness brewing in you, whatever relationship was established between Alcides and Elvira, it sure was on the better side of the spectrum.

Were you really feeling jealous of your dead doppelgänger? Well, from the way he looked at you— her — right now, you'd say he wouldn't take to her murder too kindly.

"I swear, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you." You blushed, so he enjoyed the new-and-improved Elvira more. "Yet you stay ever handsome." NO. You didn't mean for it to slip, you didn't mean it, you didn't think it — yet, you said it, and he fucking relished in it.

To save you from your embarrassment, your newfound guardian angels, the chef and other servants, brought in food of all sorts. Albeit the sheer hatred you felt towards them, you couldn't help but ask Alcides about his sons. "Aren't you sweet?" He looked at you with fondness, before answering, "The servants will bring them food to their quarters."

Fair enough.

You proceeded eating without another word or glance in his direction. Upon finishing the scrumptious meal, you waited for Alcides to take the lead.

Men like him relished in power, authority, and since he was born into it with a silver spoon hanging from his mouth, it was the only thing he knew.

He looked at you for several moments, an unreadable expression on his face making you more conscious than repelled, as if you craved the validation of his eyes.

He rose from his seat, one hand lingering in the air, an invitation for you to clasp it, while the other grabbed a hefty cluster of grapes by the stem. "Walk with me, darling."

He had to look painfully low to even see your head, once you rose to your height, it helped, but little aid was provided to the giant standing at 9'6.

You held his hand, the sheer size difference had you squirming in your steps.

Just imagine how beautiful sex would be with him, you wouldn't even be able to fit him— "Fuck," you whined under your breath, making damn sure your voice wasn't audible to Mount Everest beside you.

This was the spell talking — thinking; it's got to be. You withdrew your hand, pretending to fix the blouse of the dress, earning a glance from the Lord in your direction, which only stayed for a moment before the calming silence between the two of you was the only thing you could see, until he halted, pulling your attention back to him. "Fruit, my dear?" He waved the cluster, so you knew which ones he was talking about. Come to think of it, you did feel thirsty, and those grapes looked lusciously juicy.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, not anticipated him to raise the cluster to his mouth and bite a grape off. You watched, mouth slightly agape as a perfectly fine grape rested between his fangs. Even the slightest subconscious movement could rip through the fruit, yet it stayed perfectly safe in his mouth.

He then crouched, now eye-to-eye with you. His eyebrows raised in your direction, challenging you. Challenging you to pull the fruit out of his mouth, and there was only one way to do it.

You bit your lip, you could have your fun, just until you find a reversal cure to his spell.

So, you grab onto both his wide, muscular shoulders, letting your arms cross around his neck. You smirk at him, bringing one hand forward to trace his features. He was so, so strong, to the point you were more aroused than intimated. Your hand reached his torso, you could see how your teasing placed him in agony. Slowly, you let your hand ghost over his pants, and lo and behold, he was aroused; painfully so, and you felt it immoral to torment a man so much (the fucking irony), so you palmed him through his pants, causing his mouth to hang open and out fell grape— right into your palm.

You bring the fruit up to your mouth, Alcides left mesmerised with the way your plump, perfect lips wrapped around it before ripping through it. A moan escaped your lips as the juice dripped down your tongue. "So good," you left out a sigh, and something in him snapped. Alcides flipped you around, you were now pressed against some wall that practically emerged in support of his... expeditions. He plucked two grapes, placing them in his large palm, before bringing it closer to your face. When your eyes widened in confusion, his other hand wrapped itself around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth, before you realised what he demanded and gave it to him; you licked about the fruit, before accepting them into your mouth. Your tongue still teased his flesh, when he pulled away. Amber eyes mere slits with obvious lust, "Now," he began, "You can say you've eaten out of the Lord's palm." He winked at you before walking away.

You steadied your haggard breathing, before deciding to follow him when a certain room caught your eye. It were as if your name was being chanted like a careful whisper, that only sounded when you were left alone. Following your gut, as a hunter as skilled as you would, you push open the heavy doors and let yourself in.

The first thing catching your eye was an obnoxious leather chair that you couldn't help but run a hand over, "Gator skin," you scowled. Though a hunter, you were against hunting — animals, that is, although you'd be hypocritical to say so when the creatures you send to hell are no less barbaric than a creature tormenting in wilderness. Still, you believed in fighting an equivalent, or even better, an apparent immortal.

On the left of it was an fireplace, charcoaled in exhaustion like it recently gave up it's flame and purpose, and in front, was a library, the source of your calling; not colossal, yet extreme in number. The whispering chant grew to a shout, a yearn for each leather-clad covering of ink spilled on paper to be touched by your feather-light fingertips, and only a fool would turn down a beseech like such.

Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display, and you explored every single one of them. Fighting the temptation to steal every book with valour, despite how useful each would've proved to be to you in the future, you declined every book until you reached what you sought, rather, what sought you tonight. "The Book of The Four Houses", the spine read. You pulled the book out, not anticipating it to be so heavy. "The Book of The Four Houses", you read again, searching for an author, but not met by any name.

You flip through the pages frantically, in hopes to find any continuance of relevance to your brother's observations, and there it was: Familia Dimitrescu, the excerpt was titled.

"Alcides Dimitrescu was born into the noble Dimitrescu family sometime before the Great War, and through this ancestry inherited a hereditary blood disease, possibly porphyria cutanea tarda. Although his family traced their origins to Cesare, one of the four founders of an isolated mountain village in Europe, Alcides himself lived elsewhere, perhaps through a cadet branch. In the aftermath of the Second World War and the abolition of the nobility, Dimitrescu returned to his family's former lands, which had fallen under the control of a neopagan cult worshipping the Black God.

Prior to 1958, at the age of 44, Dimitrescu was lured by the cult leader, Mother Miranda, to a crypt beneath the village cemetery, where he was surgically implanted with a Cadou parasite. The purpose of this experiment was to determine his viability as a candidate who could become host to a parasitic intelligence at a later date. This experiment mutated Alcides' body considerably, granting him regenerative capabilities, retractable claw-like nails, and the ability to transform into a dragon-like monster and back again. Moreover, the parasite halted his aging process, maintaining his appearance perpetually. In spite of these impressive biological changes, the resulting mutation did not nullify his blood disease. As a result, Dimitrescu needed a ready supply of fresh human blood to maintain his health, and was therefore judged by Miranda to be a failure."

"Although Dimitrescu was of no use as a host, his claim to Castle Dimitrescu was recognized by Miranda and he was allowed to take residence in the village as one of the Four Lords, who would maintain order over the native peasantry while aiding Miranda in Cadou research. Upon inhabiting the estate, Dimitrescu took over his family's vineyard and wine-distribution business as a means of supporting himself."

"Relishing in his reclaimed noble status, Dimitrescu developed extreme caste-based views of society, seeing himself as second only to Miranda herself. He openly loathed the other three house Lords, particularly Karl Heisenberg, whom he frequently argued with. He privately bemoaned that he was not Miranda's favorite, instead being treated the same as all the others. Despite this, Dimitrescu's alliance with the other houses allowed him to rule his castle with barbarous cruelty, regularly taking in new staff to replace those who had been taken to his dungeon to be killed and drained of blood for sustenance."

"Dimitrescu's own experiments with Cadou appear to have been limited, as the only confirmed instance was an experiment begun by Miranda and monitored by Dimitrescu. In this experiment, the corpses of three men were implanted with Cadou parasites. Over the course of about a week, the Cadou produced fly-like organisms which then consumed the flesh of all three bodies. Having assimilated the DNA of these men, the flies merged to mimic their human shapes and slowly adapted their likenesses. Dimitrescu immediately formed a bond with these three men, whom he named Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, and came to regard himself as their father. They obeyed Dimitrescu without question, and were similar to him in that they were ageless and reliant on vampirism for sustenance. However, they were incapable of withstanding cold temperatures, thus remaining trapped within the confines of Castle Dimitrescu."

That explains the overwhelming warmth of the Castle that had began to annoy you.

"Over the next seventy years, Dimitrescu and his sons systematically consumed the flesh and blood of local peasants and servants alike. The blood of maids was extracted and combined with grapes to create Sanguis Virginis (Latin for "Maiden's Blood"), a traditional Dimitrescu family wine. The female victims, now infected with Mold, lived on as Moroaicǎ and Samcă, while male victims were consumed and then hollowed out to be turned into scarecrows for the castle vineyard."

"Dimitrescu's reign of terror was not without resistance, however, as one villager is known to have stolen a family heirloom — the Dagger of Death's Flowers — in an attempt to assassinate him with its poisoned blade. The attempt failed and he was buried with the dagger in the Tower of Worship to keep it hidden from any others who might seek to harm him."

You snapped the book shut, mind whirling in an epileptic shock, replaying every single word over and over in your head, then images of Alcides, his "sons", Cadou Parasites, Mother Miranda? By the time you realised it, you were hyperventilating, eyes scattering from corner-to-corner, in search of anything less cryptic, anything less 'Once-upon-a-time-there-was-a-beautiful-boy-named-Alcides', and more 'Weakness-to-duhduhduh-kill-by-gunshot-to-the-duhduhduh'.

You threw your head back in unfamiliar pain that originated from your chest, you can't believe plain ink on paper knocked the air out of you, but then again, so did the signed caskets of your family; by the same man you now found out to be ancient and seemingly indestructible, but talk of this "Dagger of Death's Flowers" gave you hope.

Your thoughts of retrieving it were cut short when the doors burst open. "What are you doing?" roared the thunderous voice of the man of the hour, "Elvira." His voice was laced with an emotion you were too out of your head to begin deciphering. His eyes dropped to the book in your hands while awaiting your answer. "Oh, why didn't you say so?" His expression softened, causing you to raise a brow in perplexity. He walked over, the fondness in his eyes returned, causing your tense posture to relax a bit. He took the book from you, and seemingly landed on a page mentioning Alcides' life before lordship. "You really love this book, don't you? I guess it is fun to read a fan's work." He chuckled, flipping through the pages as if he hadn't seen the book in a long, long time.

Huh.

If 'Elvira', too, had been scavenging through the book of Dimitrescus, possibly for the same reason as you, maybe you're more similar than you thought.

When you looked up to his height, his eyes were already on you. "You look tired, my dear. I would be happy to take you to your quarters." He smiled, and your heartbeat was quick to quicken at that. "I'd like that, my Lord."

My Lord.

The walk to your chambers was a haze, all you could feel was the growing wetness in your panties from the way his eyes bore into you; penetrating every inch of you, consuming your conscience with the darkest desires.

Taking out your brother's journal from your bag, you flipped to a fresh page and began filling in your own conclusions. As you wrote, you began to think— not just as a hunter, but as a long deprived woman who had just encountered the most handsome man ever, who just also happened to have murdered her family.

The way he walks, the way he holds your innocent gaze challengingly, the way he looks at you like you're the most exquisite meal, and he's a man starving. You had long abandoned the trepidation and abhorrence you felt towards his cannibalistic lifestyle, instead, feeling a shameful surge of lust shoot into you. You rubbed your thighs together, laying on the bed, but dutifully still, writing every bit of knowledge you gained today; from the parasite, to relations with the leaders of the other Houses and Seven Royal Families that Vânători de urâciuni had already slaughtered, to Mother Miranda, and even what little you read about the Black God.

By the time you covered every intricate detail of a disaster waiting to happen, the heat between your legs was nuclear; the throb, unbearable, leaving you no choice but to act on your animalistic urges. You straighten up, slowly discarding the beautiful cloth that once accentuated your body, now felt like constricted bondages on it.

Once bare, you sink into the pillowy cushions of your given quarters. Something about the whole room smelled like him, but the strongest scent came from your dress, when you were pressed against him. Even both your arousals could be scented from the innocent rose dress, so you tugged it closer to you, breathing in his smoky musk scent, along with your innocent floral one. "Fuck," you groaned, fingers finally ghosting over the mess dying to be made between your legs.

You decided now was not the time to tease, so you coat your fingers in your wetness and smear circles on your swollen clit. "Fuck."

Your bud throbbed in your grasp, desperate to have a little somebody's fanged mouth on it, your nipples hardened the same, aching to have that mouth graze over them, suckle on them, taint the soft, ample flesh with sinister marks. Hell, if it meant one night of succumbing to carnal pleasures, you'd even let the fucker carve that neo-pagan cult symbol on you.

"Fuck!" You weren't thinking straight — no, you weren't thinking at all. How could you? You were under a spell, 'Yes, that was it,' you thought, more so struggling in convincing yourself than anything. Just the sheer thought of a man possessing vile notoriety, relishing in every crime you've fought against; his size, the abnormality of it all. You fantasised about how inhumanely long his tongue might be, teasing around your clit before plunging into your slit.

Oh, that's it.

You shoved your fingers inside of you, whining at how unfulfilling they were, when compared to the hands of him. You were pretty sure his middle finger was bigger than your face.

The only sound to be heard was the squelching of your pussy and your whimpering. You could only pray you weren't audible, not that you minded, because it was Elvira Stoica who'd get mocked, not Y/N Y/L.

Your pace quickened at the thought of him fucking you as Y/N. Would the thought of fucking the enemy be as tantalisingly erotic to him, too? Or would he just hate fuck you, and then feast on your flesh?

"Fuck me..—" You lost your voice when your breath hitched in your throat. "Ju-just like that, mhhm." You were so close, just a bit more... "Fuck me."

That's it, honey, just let go—

"Oh," you moaned too loud to be safe, "Alcides!"

Your legs were shaking, cunt spasming around your fingers while your chest heaved up and down, in a breathless state.

As you rubbed your high out, realisation dawned in on you.

What have you done?

You woke up disgruntled.

Still unimaginably wet, yet thankful for the release, but you hadn't forgiven yourself. Last night was unacceptable, even for someone enchanted. To make matters worse, this isn't even the first time someone put an infatuation spell on you; at least three men before this, but not to pacify an enemy, but to woo a stoic woman with only murder on her mind.

The victim of such a spell for the fourth time, yet Alcides is different. This was incredible necromancy, not like any you've encountered before. It was then you remembered the vessel underneath your bed. Almost too eagerly you jumped off the bed, still somewhat entangled in the sheets, which you threw off swiftly.

You ducked under the bed, the vessel promisingly in the same spot as you had left it. Reaching for it with closed eyes and crossed fingers, you pull it from underneath and lift it to your height.

As you peeped one eye open, then the other in disbelief, you threw the vessel with one swing of your arm. It banged against the wall, before falling to the ground with a typical, screeching metal noise.

This can't be happening. There was no way you felt what you did for Alcides, willingly. The clear contents of the vessel indicated otherwise, though. There was no mistake in your ritual, either; you added what was needed and waited long enough.

"No, no, no, no, NO!"

This can't be fucking happening. You were ready to bawl your eyes out, when one sophisticated knock erupted you. "Elvira." It was him, you knew, your body and heart knew.

When no response followed, Alcides began, "My sons and I are travelling out of estate," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for telling you on such short notice, but we won't be back until tomorrow." His voiced trailed off, as if waiting for you to reveal yourself, your reaction, anything, but you're too shaken up to give him any satisfaction. "That's quite alright, my lord." You swallow the lump in your throat, not being able to control yourself and adding, "I'll be right here, waiting." You swore you heard a groan, but were stuck in a limbo by the time Alcides left your door.

You decided all things could be said and done after bathing, so you run a bath and let the scented waters soak into you, replacing the stench of your sins with the perfumed power of blaming Alcides; but you couldn't do that anymore, could you? Not when he was never provocative.

Once you finished freshening up, you grabbed another one of the gowns Dimitrescu gave you. It was black, and beautiful; you were left speechless when you put it on. God, did he really have to make you feel beautiful when you were sent to kill his entire bloodline? "Ah, such unfortunate circumstances." You 'tsked' before doing your hair.

By the time you were done with your makeup, you were certain of today's plan: You were going for breakfast, accessing the courtyard, navigating the Tower Of Worship, exhuming the villager with whom the "Dagger of Death's Flowers" is buried; dig it out, lace the blade with gunpowder, stab all fuckers, one by one, get the fuck out, walk miles back home, and hibernate.

Sweet.

You step out of your quarters to find the chamberlain posted there, just like the day before. "If I say so, my lady?" She looked up at you, the tiny thing was adorable for the fear she felt, yet still wanted you to know that, "You look ravishing." She briefly looked you in the eye before the rouge on her cheeks became embarrassingly obvious, to her. You, on the other hand found her just as she was, adorable.

Upon entering the dining area, she silently took her leave, when you grabbed her wrist. "First Alcides, now you, too?" You asked, flirtatiously referring to both of them excusing themselves from you. "The least you could do is give me company." And how could anyone resist the sultry tone of a stunning woman?

So the chamberlain finds herself dining with you.

You insisted she sat besides you, and despite putting the maximum distance between your chairs, she complied. "So...?" You inquired after finishing your meal, referring to her name. "Oh— uh— Pasha, mi lady." You smiled, "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You saw her rub her thighs together from the corner of your eye. "Well, Pasha," you decided to break the awkward silence that hadn't formed yet, "You think you can take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You sipped on your tea, eyeing her while you swallowed, only to see her with widened eyes and haphazard breathing. "Me-my l-lady—..." she stammered, hesitation painted all over her soft features as if you asked her to murder The Dimitrescus herself, or eat you out, you couldn't decide which was more mortifying for the poor girl. "What is it, Pasha?" You sighed.

"Th-the area is strictly off limits— only the... family can go there." She gulped at your growingly irritable expression. "I am part of the family — the Stoica household, in case you've forgotten, cameristă."

"I- yes, mi lady. I'm so sor—" "I don't want to hear it." You interrupted, raising a hand in the air. "Will you, or will you not take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You stared at her, the impatience visible on your face, before you decided to put on the façade you knew best; the façade of seduction. "Please, Pasha," you placed a hand on her bare thigh, her little skirt leaving little to imagination.

"For me?" Were the magical words that got the job done.

So you walk with the head of the staff of Castle Dimitrescu, into the family's place of worship, to exhume the corpse of the only man with the balls to try and assassinate him.

Pasha dropped you off at the foot of the Tower, more than happy to bolt away once you told her it was okay to leave you alone.

You walk up the stairs, and into the end of Castle Dimitrescu.

For a place of "worship", the place had the most oppressive aura, reeking of the occult and unimaginable. You fought your way inside, barely getting in while the air was knocked out of you; perhaps, a barrier of necromancy, despite it, you were able to get through.

You ran from corner to corner, searched every square centimetre of the place, but no place near-resembled the tomb of an assailant. "Fuck, where is it?" Your hands dipped inside your bag to look for something, before pulling it out and beginning your rummaging.

Indeed, you had stopped by Alcides' study before breakfast, telling the maid you 'forgot something' in there during your "time" last night, before winking at her shamelessly and forcing your entry. Sneaking out 'The Book of The Four Houses' was something you could do with your eyes closed.

Your eyes read past every word until you landed where you were made to stop, when the wave of overwhelm hit you last night. "Hall of the Four", the title read.

"The Hall of the Four, known in Japanese as Between the Four Angels (四天使の間, shi tenshi no aida?), is an area of Castle Dimitrescu." The Hall of the Four leads to the Tower of Worship, but this door cannot be opened until the four masks are placed on the Angel statues."

You groaned a string of profanities.

It's like you were set up for failure, and the worst part is, you could hear him laughing in the back of your mind— Alcides. His new abode has become the back of your mind, for he never leaves there.

Tired, disappointed and on the verge of giving up, you leave the Tower. You were a goner without the masks, and despite being in a rush to at least try and acquire them, you walked in a defeated slumber.

The chamberlain met you somewhere near the courtyard, surprised to see you walking out alive. "Lady Stoica—" "Just take me to my quarters, Pasha." You sighed, earning a swift nod from the confused chamberlain.

You walked lost, still, until you reached your room and opened that damned book again. While you scrolled through the contents, a mere note fell off, barely in your grasp.

The handwriting.

It was your brother's, but— it couldn't be. They never got close enough, which is why you're here now, right? They never got close enough. Three of the most feared, skilled men in the world of hunting never got close to one man and his three experiments for sons.

How in the hell did— Wait.

'Mask of Pleasure: Second Floor of Castle Dimitrescu',

that's where you are right now.

Everything could wait, hell, God could wait on the other line of heaven. You needed answers, yes, but something in your gut tells you it's better unknown. All that matters right now is killing him and every last member of his twisted family.

Or at least that was the plan...

You find yourself walking towards any room, with any possibility of possessing a mask. Hell, you had no idea what it looked like, but if it looks anything like the pleasure you'd be rewarding yourself with once you get the fuck out of this place, the mask won't be too difficult to find.

Soon enough you had pulled the place apart — the whole floor — except one room you hadn't set foot in. Alcides Dimitrescu's chambers.

A colossal door; you couldn't look away from the necromantic symbols etched into the woodwork. Had you not possessed the ability to see through such dark arts, you would've stepped right in and be left to deal with a fatality. You pull two vessels from your bag; the Blood of Christ and Vurxelheim, two of the purest substances on the planet, known to melt away all magic, no matter how ancient or dark, and as your expected, it did just that.

Alright, now all that was needed was to open the door, and even an amateur could do that with a pin.

Upon entering, you took in the details of his abode, almost forgetting to close the door behind you. Everything was brown; that's something you've noticed about the whole castle. Monotonously warm shades of brown, dimly lit with heat radiating over every surface. You only quirked a brow at the abnormalities. It soon came to your knowledge that the foundation of this floor is regarded as the "Hall of Pleasures". Kinky.

You looked around every corner, in every possible direction and space, but to no avail. Sighing, your head fell back, eyes closed it absolute demotivation, but when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was porcelain intricately carved, and hanging from the ceiling; a place where no mortal, but only a 9'6 indestructible titan of a tyrant could reach. It was obnoxious, if anything; placing it in a place so obvious, yet so out of reach — a direct message to show he's better than the rest, quite literally above them.

With no possible way of reaching it, you were still accessing your options when one strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and raised you up, right to where the mask hanged. "If you wanted to swing by my chambers,"

"You could've just asked, mic vânător."

Little Hunter— "Let go of me!" You writhed in his grasp, hand slowly reaching for the mask, still. "If you say so," he shrugged before letting go of you completely, letting you hang from the ceiling like a dreamcatcher. "Son of a bitch! You put me down this instant or I swear to God I'll rip through you and your experiments with my bare hands." "Ah, there's no need to get feisty, Elvira." He said, grabbing you by the waist, and putting you down, despite your kicking and struggling. "I'm only trying to help." He grunted, one hand disappearing behind his trench coat; you were ready to pounce at him, when he pulled, seemingly, the other three masks from behind.

"There you go, sweetheart. Masks of Joy, Sorrow, and Rage." He waved the remaining three keys to The Hall of the Four. You eyed him, and he swore the frowning pout was the cutest sight he's ever seen. "C'mon, they're yours for the taking, darling." He smiled at you.

"What's the catch, Alcides?" You sighed.

It's never that fucking easy, is it?

"One night with me." He simply spoke, taking your deepening scowl as a notion to carry on, "One night to decide what is it that you want, Elvira," "Or should I call you, Y/N Y/L of the Vânători de urâciuni?" Your eyes widened with horror; you hadn't processed him calling you 'little hunter', yet, and now this? This could only mean— "How did you—" "Please. 'You think I wouldn't find out about the mass murder of my fiancé? And imagine the gossip about town that it was a doppelgänger who did it." No, you were careful, he's lying — he's got to be. "Lucky for me, I get the sexier one, now." He chuckled, impressed with his wit.

When you didn't give him the satisfaction of freaking out on him, moreover agreeing to his terms, he rolled his eyes, "Pentru dumnezeu! The first mistake was the rocks you climbed on. They've deliberately been arranged like so, for trespassers like you to easily enter, walk through the courtyard, and into the quarters of my sons for them to feast upon. Then, leaving your blood on the grill? The scent agonised me. It was so difficult to put those three dogs on a leash, having never smelled something so sweet." He 'tsked', "The second mistake was trusting Pasha. It was her hand that twirled in your bath water, mixing the infatuation spell, and it was her, too, that switched the vessel underneath your bed. Very clever, by the way, very thoroughly performed indication ritual."

"But your third— baby, this mistake might as well be a blessing because it's the only fucking thing keeping me away from ripping into you slowly, and feast on your flesh for two whole days; pleasuring yourself, in my fucking castle, fantasising about fucking me."

"Oh, and the guillotine was Heisenberg, I only added the dramatic touch of sending the heads back."

You couldn't bear it.

Bottles full of emotions you've locked away for ages finally hit the concrete of reality; shattering to a million pieces while the man you still find irresistible, had an unimpressed look on his face. "Y/N. I know you want to kill me—" "Oh, honey, you have no idea." You laughed dryly, choking on sobs, but something tells you the impact of your threat didn't go in the direction you wanted because he visibly tensed when you called him, "honey".

"But," he raised both hands in defence, "I wouldn't have gotten you these," he said, waving the masks again, "If I didn't think this deserved a chance— we — deserved a chance." "You think I'll let you anywhere near me after you toyed with me like a plaything? Sent me my father, my uncle, my brother's heads to add a 'dramatic touch'?" "I should've put a more potent spell on you," he cursed under his breath, earning a scoff from you.

You pulled out a dagger from your thigh holster, and lunged at him. Caught off guard, Dimitrescu's eyes widen while you slashed through his alabaster shirt, eager to bleed some crimson into his lifelessly pale skin. "I've had it with you, brat!" He growled, the whack of his palm on your cheek took you back, and you didn't mean to moan.

The cry, it was wanton, and it had Alcides latching on to every ounce of self control he still preserved. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do," he grabbed the dagger from your grasp within a second. "You're gonna take off your clothes, lay down, looking pretty for me like you always do," he walked closer, raising his large hands again in defence. "You following me— okay," he inched closer to you, while you backed away, further into the wall. "I'm gonna feast on this pussy, then I'm gonna finger your tight hole open, and because I'm feeling generous," he grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, "I'm not gonna force my cock into your pretty little throat, you're gonna beg for it." He caressed your face, the way your doe eyes watered while staring at him, like glass he could see his reflection in, your agape lips and soft expression made his pants constrict his cock agonisingly. "And the last thing I'll be doing, even if it's my last ever," his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you to his king-sized bed. Laying you down, and climbing on top like a wolf on a lamb, he says, "Is fucking this pussy till you finally accept that you're made for me."

His mouth latched onto your neck, easily manhandling you at the same time while you writhed in his grasp. "I would rather be dead." You spat out venomously, which only made Alcides smile. "Well, alright. I'd still pound you till you're a mere cum-dump, but I'd surely miss those pretty sounds you made when you fingered yourself thinking about me." He panted against your pulse point, baritone voice hoarse with lust.

He spread your legs, lifting both your hands up by the wrists to his face. "Tiny little things," he kissed the knuckles of each finger, "Unsatisfying, aren't they?" He showered your hands with kisses, "Don't worry, darling, I'm here now." He raised both hands so their size was visible in your periphery, before grabbing your dress and pulling it over your head. "No!" You resisted, causing him to huff, annoyed. "Don't make me tear it off, honey, you look breathtaking in it." He cooed, and your movements haltered enough for him to successfully get it off you. "Good girl— such a good girl f'me."

Immediately his eyes were on your curves, your hips — perfect for bearing the child he was about to fuck into you, your breasts, so ample, all available for his groping and fondling, your pussy almost peering out of the silk panties. "Fuck, Y/N." He groaned, about to rip your underwear off when your pleads interrupted him. "Alci-Alcides please don't." "Hm," his sharp eyes seemed to be calculating his next move. "You say no, but your body," he groaned, pressing the knuckles of two of his fingers against your clothed cunt, "Your body sings otherwise, my love."

Every second passing by was petrifying.

The mortal battle between blood and lust, two things you were the epitome of, qualities comprising your very backbone, now, asked you to break it; bend over backwards and break your back for this man.

The string of pleads you cried fell on deaf ears, which, a part of you was glad for. Maybe if you continued to put the blame on Alcides and his necromancy, you'll actually let yourself live with the fact that your desires to have him ravage in your guts is overpowering, and the carnality lay in the fact that you didn't even care about what happened after. You were serving him your body in a platter, which you had not an ounce of doubt would eventually serve that purpose, quite literally.

"Tell me you want me." He hovered over your breasts. If he wanted to play games, then games you'll play. "I want you..." you whispered, "to go fuck yourself." He would've smacked you again, but again, you would've enjoyed it. What did stop him, however, was the shit-eating grin plastered on your face that showed him you were still on planet Earth, among the living and the abominable.

"Now, why would I do that, when I've got such a pretty girl with her pussy all wet for me?" He mimicked your expression, staring into your soul until you were forced to look away, and your eyes landed right on his clothed erection. "This?" He followed your gaze, "You're going to take care of this in just a minute, but for now," he paused, his large hands turning into talons and ultimately perilous claws. Cutting through the hems of both your garments, he retracted his claws immediately. You flinched when his hands came closer to your hips, "Don't be afraid, mic vânător." His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring. "They can't hurt you, unless I want them to." His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you.

With that, he lowered himself and dove right in.

You slithered about while his anomaly of a tongue kitten-licked your inner thighs. "I'll tie you to the fucking bed, if you don't quit squirming." He spat.

At your pussy.

You moaned in response, hips momentarily halting from the continuous resisting. "Yeah? You like that don't you, slut?" His fingers spread your slit, before spitting right into your tight hole that fluttered about nothing. "There you go, my love." He cooed in response to your whining, smoothly inserting his index finger into the same hole. A tremor ran down your spine at the sudden intrusion; the stone-cold, thick and long thing digit was a cruel thing, reaching that sweet spot the minute it bottomed out till, knuckle-deep in your velvety walls, and even calling the others to join in on the assault on your cunt.

Accommodating, now, three of his fingers, pummelling your cunt, scissoring you open, was more overwhelming than any dick you've ever taken. Maybe the fact that no one else could amount to the size of an ancient 9'6 vampiric cannibal Lord who's put his and the life of his sons in your palm.

Either you take them away, or let him take you to carnality never fathomed before, and the way he sucked on your swollen clit while fucking you with his fingers was a clear indication of your preference.

"Alcides," you moaned, nearing your high. "Yes, my love?" He replied almost instantaneously, as if finally you complied with a poor man's request. "What is it that you need, darling? I'll give it all to you." He lifted up from your pussy, leaving your clit with a wet 'pop' sound, making his way over to your breasts, while his movements inside you never faltered once. His sharp eyes searched yours, fixated on them while his hot tongue snaked out of his mouth to twirl around your hardened bud. Flesh on fire, you leaned into the feel of his mouth on you. "Fuck me, Alcides." You cried in defeat. How the mighty have fallen prey to the vultures of lust, mere carcasses of seduction.

Alas, the façade of seduction had backfired, and you had fucked up royally.

Upon hearing the trumpets of his victory through your pretty mouth, Alcides would've been a fool to refuse you. Eagerly he undoes his pants, letting his throbbing cock spring free. Your eyes damn-near saw your brain at the sight of the thing. "Alci— I can't." Seeing you panic, he began getting off on it. "You can, and you will." He hissed when his calloused thumb rubbed against the slit of his cock.

"Oh, I wanna feel that throat squeezing around me." He pumped faster, fucking his fist to the thought of you like many a night before. "But this pussy will do," "For now." He said, rubbing his length fervently against your slit, lathering your wetness on his leaking tip, enthusing a sweet mix of your cum, much more of which was to come.

"Won't be... able... to..." You spoke in between moans gaps the tip was in. The stretch was abnormal, ungodly, unnatural — exactly what you're deemed to kill. "You'll take it, mic vânător." He began to push more in, knocking the air out of your body. "Stop clenching," he groaned deeply, the sound resonating in your core. Nothing could've prepared you for this intrusion, so agonisingly painful, yet deliciously filling.

"You've... got to s.—stop... clenching." He pushed in the whole length, deadening your movements. You'd think he'd fear breaking you, but no. Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu was thrilled to see you finally submitting, even if your body paralysed in the fear of being ripped open, your back arched, breasts stopped wavering in the air, and your breath caught in your throat.

Only when the loudest, most pornographic moan left your lips did Alcides begin to thrust into you, already drunk off of your pussy, ecstatic in ecstasy.

Despite the slow speed, his thrusts were deep enough for legs to start shaking. To your shock, he lifted your legs and since they couldn't reach his shoulder's that stood almost as stall as the fucking ceiling, they were swinging across his forearms, and at this angle he slammed his hips into you.

You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it. On seeing your closed eyes, Alcides smacked your face, gentler than before, yet enough for your eyes to shoot open, face contorting in pleasure at his gesture that was now among your favourites. "Don't let those pretty eyes waver away." His grip on your hips was threateningly tight. "Look into my eyes, or there," his eyes motioned downwards, and it was then you saw the immense bump in your belly. Your eyes widened in profound horror. He had most certainly torn your insides apart, you were sure.

"See how big it is— how well you still take it?" He babbled while vigourously pushing into your poor cunt. "Pl-lease, go... easy on—me." You managed to plead out, but nothing counts stop the possessed Lord. Finally, he got the chance to feel your insides, and there was no way in hell, he thought, he'd let you off easy. Not when you're the biggest threat to his existence, let you wrap so tightly around his monster cock.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure.

Just when you thought your demise would be the sole pleasure you were forced to undergo, two of his fingers rubbed fervent figure-eights on your bundle of nerves that ached with bloodrush.

You babbled incoherences, whimpering, shaking your head repeatedly when he lifted your lifeless body, just the tip of his cock inside, and switched positions with you. Now, he laid, somewhat upright, hands crossed behind his head. Leisurely eyeing you, while you struggled to breath with his entire length upright inside your walls, his tip pressing against your cervix like an enemy threatening to break down your barriers; your walls.

"M-move... please..." you mewled, causing him to 'tsk' with disdain. "Help yourself, căprița mea mică." He raised a brow, mouth curling viciously into a smirk, "Use me as you please." Your shaky hands reached for his broad shoulders, raising then steadying your hovering self over his cock. His eyebrows wiggled in amusement, awaiting your move comically, until the feel of your walls struggling to take in his tip pulled him back into a trance of pleasure.

He let out an animalistic groan that lingered to be what you swore was a whimper, so you did your best to lift your tiring legs and plop down on his cock, upright and pulsating inside you. "I could fuck this pussy every moment for the remnant of my days." He smiled at you, large palms resting on your hot ass, slowly caressing your curves. The gesture, so contradicting to the impaling you were enduring, nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

"If I'm lucky enough to live," he paused, hands squeezing your ass before sitting upright, pulling you with him. You moaned wantonly when you felt his cock deeper. "Let this be how we wake, how we sleep — in each other's embrace." His eyes widened, as did yours, like deer caught in front of headlights. The feigning look of innocence on his face sent your core spiralling with erotic ache, when his face, not once breaking eye contact, inched forward to stop just in front of your nipple.

You shrieked when he took complete control, earning a whine from you as you just got the hang of dominance, but when you noticed the hellbent gleam of carnality in his eyes, you knew you were in for a ride.

He suckled on your bud while fucking through you. "You're close, aren't you?" He pulled away from your nipple with a pop sound, resting his bearded face on your breast, "I know you are. 'Can feel her tightening around my cock." He chuckled, mouth back on the hardened bud in his presence. You sneaked a hand down and rubbed your bundle of nerves, fervently.

His large fingers, jealous of your own, were quick to replace them in driving you to your high. You were practically spoon-fed the orgasm, that took a toll on your fragile body.

No emotion overwhelmed every hemisphere, every neurone of your brain like ever before. Your mind went spiralling away, like an eternal shore hugging the lunar tide for the first time a night, your shore's dry spell was over, and your body did it's best to fight the feeling and drive a stake through his lustful heart, but your body was worn out; used as any lucky ragdoll would be.

The overstimulation sent you back to Earth at godspeed. His movements were sloppy, but not faltering, and soon enough, he let his seed bathe your walls a pearly shade. "Take it all— carry my seed." He moaned, absentmindedly.

When you plopped onto his shoulders, he lifted you up single-handedly and laid between your legs. You instinctively closed them; despite being too fucked out of it, you still cringed at how both your cum leaked out of you, ruining the sheets and everything between.

"Alcides, no—"

You were a second too late in pleading, for he grabbed you by the legs, placed them on his shoulders, and stood up.

You hung upside down, your pussy a stone's throw away from the man's smirked lips. By now, you knew what was about to unfold, yet the first lick to your cum-coated lips sent shockwaves down your spine (rather up?).

He moaned against your clit, the vibrations causing you to writhe in his grasp. His tongue licked your pussy clean, the circular motions on your clit, to the long licks from your clit to slit.

It's crazy how an anomaly like him became your exception — the hunter's favourite prey. With a tongue so skilled, you weren't to be blamed for succumbing to your current situation; not like you could do much in the grasp of a monster like him.

You're lucky his cock didn't fuck a new hole into you.

When his large palms let go of your hips, you wrapped your legs around his neck instinctively. You could've used his vulnerability to your advantage, had your mind not clouded in the ecstasy of overstimulation. It seemed like Alcides thought the same, for he smirked devilishly to himself, letting his talons ghost about your flesh, before slightly retracting to pinch and squeeze your nipples. He placed open mouthed kisses on your clit that not once stopped throbbing.

You shook in agony, his mouth worked tantalisingly slow on your burning hot cunt. Deciding to show mercy, an unlikely thing for the tyrant Lord, he smiled at your frame hanging tightly from his; your breasts heaving under his touch, obstructing his view of your pleasure-stricken face.

Lord Dimitrescu plunged his tongue inside you, placing one hand on your hip to push and grind you against his tongue, and you swore every atom in your body was swollen with pleasure.

"No... n-no more..." Your beseech was deemed adorable by the man tongue-fucking you. He pulled out, slithery wet tongue, coated in your juices, leaving you breathless. He lapped at your wetness, growing per minute as he so desperately coaxed more out of you.

Dumbfounded, pussy-drunk, utterly engrossed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless devouring of your pussy at the hands of your sworn enemy.

One of his hands snaked to your clit, the ever fervent pace of his movements drove you to madness. Your body stilled, eyes rolled back, breath hitched, and it was when his tongue flicked inside of you that you realised that you were doomed.

After drinking your juices clean, Alcides placed you gently on his bed, and by the time he laid next to you, you had already wandered off in dreams.

Your mother awaited your letters.

Perhaps, she'll be rejoiced to hear you alive and well, or maybe she'll be mortified that you're alive and well, and The Dimitrescus live and breath, still. Either way, she and the rest of the world better get used to you signing every final letter as 'Lady Dimitrescu'.

[everlastlady]

Husband Lord Dimitrescu

✘- Author's Note: I've been wanting to do these for a while the Lord Dimitrescu artwork belongs to MetalLoveCake. I've decided to finally post some Lord Dimitrescu content. It's 3am for me but I have insomnia and can't really sleep so why not just put out something new. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✘- Story Contains: Blood, Sucking Blood, Husband Lord Dimitrescu, female reader, Romance, Fluff, Smutty shit, The author is a virgin, & cute moments.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to tease you for being a human. You are so tiny and fragile that it's funny. But he would never hurt you. He's quite gentle with you and doesn't like to cause you any harm. He's very cautious when you both sleep in bed, he doesn't want to roll over and crush you like he did last time. Even with his claws he has to remind you not to touch them because he doesn't want you to cut yourself.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to spoil you. You are his beautiful rose. And he wants his beautiful rose to always look beautiful. So he gets you the best outfits, jewelry, and anything you want. Sometimes he doesn't understand the things you request but he happily gets it for you. He also spoils you in affection; loves to give you kisses all the time. Whenever you two are together he will give a passionate kiss, he doesn't care who is around.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who likes when you play with his hair. He doesn't want to cut it for that reason. He loves when you scratch his head or run your fingers through his hair. He also loves it when you scratch his back because one time he couldn't reach his back and thought it was a good idea to use his claws. Poor man sat on your guys bed while hissing and cussing while you tending to marks on his back now he knows how his victims felt when he sliced them.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who loves to eat you out like you are the last meal on earth. He loves watching you squirm while his tongue draws along your wet cunt. How his tongue slips in and out of your cunt. Even if you already had came, oh he's not done with you because he wants your legs to tremble even if he's done he wants your cunt to feel like his tongue is still there. He loves to bite down on your soft squishy thighs to taste your blood and leaves marks. He does the same with your breasts. Lord Dimitrescu is a large man and not just in height. He has to make sure that you are prepared before he fills you up with his hot load. (Kill me.)

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who gives you the best after care. He'll have his servants change the sheets while the two of you take a bath. He'll praise you and tell you how good you did, how sweet you tasted, and how much he loves you. He'll get you into some cozy pajamas then grab you some water, gotta stay hydrated. If you are hungry, he'll get you a meal. After all that is done he'll cuddle with you in bed and sing you nice song. He'll admire your beauty while you sleep and eventually fall asleep himself holding you.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who has three sons Cass, Daniel, and Beu. Of course you are their step mother and yes they love you. They always wanted a mother, seeing human children having loving mothers, reading books on loving mothers, and those movies and shows with loving mothers. Oh, it made them crave a mother, so they were over joyed when their father said that he was marrying you. Whenever Lord Dimitrescu is busy with paperwork or with Father Miran. The boys are always with you. One time Lord Dimitrescu came home late and didn't see you in the bedroom. He looked around and eventually found you in the room in Cass's bed along with Daniel and Beu all three boys are cuddling you. As you had a story book since you read them a bedtime story. Lord Dimitrescu chuckled he could survive one night with out you, he threw a blanket over you and the boys then left the room.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who drinks your blood with permission. He doesn't take much but whenever he does, he makes sure that you drink and eat something. He likes the taste of your blood and only drinks whenever he wants a "snack" it used to hurt but you have gotten used to it. The only time you have tasted your own blood is whenever you and him have engaged in your sexual acts in passionate kissing.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who hates when you cry, who made you cry? Lord Dimitrescu is definitely going to kill them especially if they physically hurt you. You have seen Lord Dimitrescu kill people for experimenting or just for fun. But seeing Lord Dimitrescu enraged while killing was a sight. He eventually calms down because he doesn't want to scare you. Now if you are crying because you are upset or feel self conscious. Lord Dimitrescu will sit down and hold you on his lap. He'll tell you how important, beautiful, smart, and amazing you are. He'll pick up a mirror and want you to say self affirms to yourself. He never wants you to tear yourself down.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who feels bad whenever he has to cancel plans because of meetings with Father Miran. He hates the has to cancel plans you both had. But Father Miran will be up Alban's ass if he doesn't attend those meetings or assist him in experiments. But Alban Dimitrescu will make it up by taking you to expensive place or do whatever you want him to do.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who doesn't mind if you want a child. Especially if it means you and him can make the baby. Of course he'll plan it with you especially since you are a human and he's giant fucking vampire. The boys are excited to have a little sister or brother. They even bicker over what the gender will be. Father Miran is interested upon hearing this, you and Alban having a baby? How wonderful, definitely wants to see the outcome.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who is thrilled when you give birth to a healthy baby girl. She looks just like you and him. The boys are happy to see their little sister. Lord Dimitrescu tells the boys to leave the room so you can rest. Lord Dimitrescu will take care of the baby while you rest. You both named her Dawn. Lord Dimitrescu is protective of the baby, while you are recovering from having to give birth. Lord Dimitrescu is taking care of the baby, he doesn't trust the servants. But whenever he needs to rest or work. You assure him that the servants will care for the child.

✧- Husband Lord Dimitrescu, who eventually turns you into a vampire. You waited because you wanted to know more about vampires, you also thought about your friends and family. Lord Dimitrescu made sure to guide you while he turned you. He is glad that you joined him and the kids in immortality. Of course he makes sure that you and him have the best blood especially you. He is impressed how much you learned about vampires.

That's all

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Lord Dimitrescu Headcanons (Genderbent Lady Dimitrescu) (Resident Evil Village)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! Welcome back to another chapter! In this chapter it is Lord Daddy Dimitrescu as a yandere, he is the genderbent of Lady Dimitrescu. The Artwork I have for this is on Tumblr, wattpad, youtube, etc. I own it as I commissioned it. I hope you all enjoy this chapter here!]

(Disclaimer: Lord Daddy Dimitrescu is the genderbent version of Lady Dimitrescu, and he is not yandere in canon as her. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for fictional characters is fine, just do not be gross or illegal about it. Also, rule 63 is if there is a female character on the internet it has a male version and vice versa. Also, Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. NO MATTER HOW MUCH THEY ARE MOMMIES AND DADDIES AND OR HOT LOL)

But let's be honest if Daddy D was yandere for me I would DROP EVERYTHING For this man!

Still, yanderes are not ideal… poo…

(Once Again, Enjoy this!)

-Base Yandere Lord Dimitrescu Headcanons-

.Lord Daddy D (yes that is what I am going to call him in this and you cannot stop me XD) is one of the four lords.

.You are the child of the local tavern owner in the village.

.You were to take Lord Dimitrescu's wine from him to transport out of town, this is how you met the lord.

.Instantly he wanted you, and he would have you.

.You would be a good partner and parent to his daughters.

.He wanted to keep you and he will.

.He now would come down to the tavern very often. Where he would see you working as a waiter at your father's tavern.

.You were a dutiful child and he could not wait to have you. To taste you in more than one way~

.He obviously has an excitement for how large he is compared to you.

.His sheer size, he could use you like a toy on his manhood.

.The idea alone excites him.

.Also he could make love to you standing up lifting you up and down on him.

.Almost wrapping a hand around half of your waist.

. Your size to him is something he likes very much.

.It makes him the more dominant one and is able to make you his easily.

.As a yandere he is very possessive and controlling and demanding.

.You belong to him and you should do as he says when he says it.

.You will be his nice little spouse for him.

.He has a daddy kink

.So he would be fatherly to you and guide you as a caretaker a lot of the time.

.He is also the type of yandere that will love to worship your body over and over making love to you until you pass out.

.To make you feel like you might shatter upon him.

.He is also very rough with you in the bedroom.

.able to make you cry out in delight and come undone upon him.

.He can be also a bit of a jealous yandere.

.He wants to be your one and only.

.If any other man or woman defiled you then they will be killed.

.If you were with anyone else besides him he would punish you.

.You should have none better and been a good future spouse and waited for him. Even though you did not know he would want you.

.Once he does punish you and kills all that have been with you.

.He will claim you, marking you as his and his alone, so no one will ever be able to have a claim on you again.

.He will most likely brand you with his house crest and carve his name into your collarbone.

.So everyone knows that you are his and belong to him and him alone.

.You will be moved to the castle to be his bed warmer and future spouse.

.Only his daughters and him could speak to you.

.If you tried to run the villagers are more than willing to capture you again and to bring you back to him.

.Where you would be punished by him for daring to leave then he will make love with you for days on end until you know your place with your future husband.

.He deals with rivals by torturing them and throwing them into the dungeon.

.You will be a good partner for him, he will make sure of it.

.He confesses to you by having a candlelit dinner.

.It is beyond romantic, if you say yes, you will be expected to marry him in post haste.

.If you say no, well he will threaten your family.

.He was a lord, what would your father do if he tavern was closed.

.If you still say no he will just have your father give him your hand that way you cannot say no.

.In the end you will marry him, it is just better for you if you are willing.

.He will hold your family over your head and you will be forced to marry him.

.To become his spouse and to warm his bed. If possible to carry his seed and give him more children.

.He will not stop until you are his mark his words.

.You belong to house Dimitrescu, you belong to Lord Daddy D.

(Now should there a mini-series of Vampire lord Daddy D >:3

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I hope that you all enjoyed this and stay sexy all of my sexy muffins!]

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

i am BEGGING for some genderbend Donna Benevito and Mother Miranda fanfics PLEASEEE PEOPLE OF THE INTERNET HEAR MY CRIES (T_T)

[delightfulcrasher]

What would reaction be Yandere! Lord Dimitrescu discovering the reader is pregnant with his son or daughter? And what will happen if the other leaders find out?

Yandere! Lord Dimitrescu with a pregnant reader:

(TW: Yandere, possessiveness, pregnancy, control)

Try as they might, there was no way to hide the secret from the Lord. He always has this way of finding information. He would have found out, eventually. 

Why would they withhold such valuable information from him, dear? Was it something they didn’t want him to know about? Were they shy? Did the prospect of becoming a parent scare them? Hush, now, darling. He will take care of everything.

He would become more touchy. There wouldn’t be a moment where the reader doesn’t feel one of his larger hands gripping into their shoulder. He’ll either keep his hands on their shoulder or their stomach. The shoulder so he can easily keep them in place, the stomach so he can feel their child inside them. His hands almost entirely covers his spouses belly.

This goes hand in hand with his increased possessiveness

The safety of the child is another thing he can hold over them. They wouldn’t want any complications to happen during the pregnancy, do they? So just sit still and do as you’re told, and he can ensure the best hospitality for them. Pregnancy is already uncomfortable enough, but now they have to account for an overly love-stuck Lord looming over them.

The Lord expects them to follow his every rule. They would only eat when he tells them to, rest when he deems fit, walk, dress, and act as he directs. He has three sons of his own, he knows what has to be done to ensure the best outcome. Father knows best.

The Lord wouldn’t be one to run his mouth about the child, but the other Lords would find out eventually.  

Mirus is interested in the little experiment child. Oh, who is he kidding, he couldn’t hide his interest if he tried. This is something new, something he had never thought of before. One of his experiments infecting a specimen by the means of reproduction, the end result would be a marvel, that’s for sure. Needless to say Mirus has a sudden new interest in Dimitrescu’s s/o. Albin wouldn’t mind too much, he respects Mirus, he trusts him. But if he see’s you spending more time with him then necessary, his jealousy would spike.

Moureu is worried. Not for the the reader haha no way she couldn’t care less about them. She is worried for her own standing with Father Mirus. Seeing that Mirus has taken a new interest in them, means it’s going to be even harder for her to gain his affection. Having an accessible clinic in her land, the reader might spend some of their time there for routine check ups (When they’re not already held up in Mirus’s lab or Albin’s castle). Sal helps with the reader, although begrudgingly.  

Don is excited. Hearing that one of the lords was expecting an heir was the best news he’s heard all day! He’s lonely, sitting in his house all alone surrounded by dolls, so this new addition sparks a new interest. Angus would be used as a training dummy for the reader, making sure they handle their role properly. Don doesn’t want anything bad to happen to the child, and will do his best to ensure they grow up unphased by their strange surroundings. 

Karla feels sorry for them. If the reader had a chance of escaping before, now it would be near impossible. She’s honestly the only one who would sympathise with the reader in this trying time. She’s not as far gone as the others, she still has a semblance of humanity within her, she knows how fucked this situation is. She would try to offer some comfort and support to Albin’s s/o, but her visits are few and far between. Dimitrescu doesn’t want her anywhere near his precious partner, or their child, for the matter. 

[ourdearkey]

《°Lord Alcino Dimitrescu/Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader|Amnestic°》

Alcino watched as you tailrd behind Karl, hands clasped behind you.

He watched as Karl ordered you to stay still, as he walked away.

"Finally" he thought walking towards you, you watched as he approached you with his award winning smile.

"Lord Dimitrescu" you addressed, making him nod in response.

"What's your name doll?" He asked with a  flirting tone, making you blink.

"[Y/n], Karl's right hand" you answered shaking his hand, he inhaled his cigar as he eyed your form.

"Is there something you need?" You asked curiously, he blinked before expressing a grin.

"Should you want to take a stroll sometime?" He asked bluntly, you suppressed a soft smile at him nodding.

"I would love to" just then Karl approached muttering some curses, he looked to see you and Alcino together.

"Aight, let's go stop flirtin' with the enemy" he said teasingly walking ahead, before you could follow him Alcino clutched your arm, making you look back.

"Tell that little man thing to take you to a little visit by my humble abode tomorrow" he requested to which you nodded with a small smile, before walking away.

He watched as you left, his dead heart beating wildly.

"Hm...love a first sight."

~~~

Alcino sighed pacing around the entrance, his sons watching his from upstairs.

"What did you two do?" Bennett asked his brothers glaring at them, they shrugged claiming they did nothing wrong.

"Are we in trouble?" Danielle asked worried, Calypso now panicking.

Meanwhile Lord Dimitrescu sighed ruffling his hair, he had been waiting for you and Karl to arrive.

Well mainly you, midnight arrived his  worries began to grow.

"Are they not coming?"

"I knew I should've talked to them a little longer."

Negative thoughts ran through his head, making his anxiousness grow he looked outside the clock, noticing tne time.

12:03 Am

He sighed putting his cigar out, guess he'll ask you about it in your next meeting.

***

There you were standing by the door Karl being god knows where, he hurriedly approched you trying to compose himself.

"[Y/n]" he called out making you turn towards him, he stopped in his tracks noticing your confused gaze.

"I...er, why have you not come for a visit?" He asked, making you even more confused.

"Have we met?" You asked backing away from him, he froze awkwardly chuckling.

"Your kidding right?" He questioned grabbing your shoulders, you shrugged them of now scratching thw side of your neck.

"I'm sorry but I don't even know you..."

"What?" He thought blankly.

"Is this your way of rejecting him?"

"We're you saying this because you really didn't want to go out with him?"

Alcino opened his mouth but closed it choosing to walk away, never in all his years experienced this heartbreaking feeling.

He didn't notice your worried gaze, your option choosing to follow him.

Noticing your presence folliw his, he turned towards you raising a brow.

"Would you like to take a stroll?" You asked, his body froze at the question you noticing.

"T-to ease your stress" you quickly explained, not knowing why this was his reaction.

He nodded offering his arm, holding his hand you let him lead you towards the cemetery, obviously noticing the uncomfortable silence.

You cleared your throat staring right ahead, "How do you know?"

He looked down at you confused, you smiled up at him squeezing his larger hand.

"My name" now he was very confused, he didn't know wether you were acting or not, but he decided to answer you going along.

"You told me the last meeting" your mind stopped momentarily, making you bite your cheek.

"I must've forgot" you claimed making him inwardly sigh, his eyes wandering towards the path.

"Guess there was no spark."

Noticing his distant gaze, you stopped your tracks making him stop along with you.

"Let's try again shall we?" You said holding out your hand, making him look at you.

"[Y/n]" he smiled, now fully knowing what you meant.

He bent down taking your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"Alcino."

~~~

You sighed dreamily looking outside the window, Karl noticing your lovestruck face.

"Somethin' good happen?" He asked, you beamed explaining that you met one of the Lords, saying they were charming.

He let out a hum, knowing full well you'll forget about this tomorrow.

"Now I pity that giant asshole" he thought, crossing his arms.

~~~

Alcino stood infront of Heisenberg's factory, he had come to pay you a visit wanting to spend some time with you.

He saw Karl standing infront of the door, making him know he expected him.

"Man dick" Alcino greeted taunting Karl, him only shrugging in response.

"Have some respect in my home you big bitch."

They entered stumbling upon you in the kitchen, you turned and greeted Karl smiling.

"Just in time!" You exclaimed placing some food on the table, the two sat down with you eating.

Alcino shuffled in his seat, pulling out a golden necklace.

"This is for you doll" he said grinning, handing you the jewelry.

"Thank...you?" You said wearing the necklace to not lose it, you turned back to Alcino asking who he was making him freeze.

"I..." he trailed of making you look at him concerned, Karl stood up excusing himself pulling Alcino with him.

Dragging the tall man to the other room, Alcino pinned Karl to the wall growling.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" Karl stayed silent, before gripping Alcino's wrist.

"I'll explain in one condition.." Alcino raised a brow towards him, asking what.

"Put me down on the floor motherfucker" Karl wheezed, making Alcino drop him.

Karl stood up brushing some dirt of his clothes, before clearing his throat.

"It's simple really."

"Elaborate."

"She has what you call, short term memory loss..."

***

You ate silently playing with your food now and then, the tall man that gave you the necklace came back in the room, kneeling infront of you.

"My name's Alcino, what's yours doll?"

[rosestarlightkatarina]

[ilovedonnabeneviento]

Heisenberg dgaf

[wallflowerimagines]

Howdy dowdy, Partner. It's me, ya boi, Skinny Penis.

How would the Lords react to a selectively mute S/O? Especially their reaction to them talking to them for the first time.

I have this mental image of Heisenberg's S/O saying something really casually (while they're relaxing or something), and he just whips around to look at them and he just shouts "hoLY FUCK!"

Saw the first line of this ask and then it was followed by a cute prompt????---

Warnings: swearing, my typical brand of silly

Alcina Dimitrescu

She's so used to your quiet demeanor it's to the point where she COMPLETELY forgot that your silence is a choice.

Alcina quite honestly never expected you to speak to her, and she was mentally planning for the rest of your relationship to be this way -- all of the servants are learning to sign, just in case, and she has pens and paper in every room if you prefer to write as your form of communication.

When you do finally speak up, she's frozen. What.

Oh. You can. You...can speak?

It's one of the times you've ever seen Alcina baffled, because honestly? She has no idea what to do.

However, you can bet she IMMEDIATELY analyses the situation in order to make sure she can get you to keep talking to her. Whatever made this happen needs to be repeated as much as possible -- Now that she knows you can be made comfortable enough to speak, she needs to hear you speak again.

(It might not have been your intention, but you hit her right in the superiority complex. Her partner spoke to HER. JUST her. Exclusively. Alcina is going to be riding this high for decades)

The Lady Dimitrescu is a big believer in positive reinforcement with her loved ones, so you better believe that every time you speak she is extra affectionate, because she does like to hear your voice!💞

Essentially, you have prompted constant affection DO NOT RESIST---

Donna Beneviento

I mentioned this in my other Donna x Mute reader post, but Donna is able to relate to a mute s/o a lot.

She's pretty nonverbal herself, so often you two have moments of quiet peace, where the two of you are doing your own thing together in the same room, taking breaks only to hold hands, cuddle, and kiss each other sweetly.

Truly dreamy💕💕💕

The first time you speak to her though, she's sewing a new outfit for one of her dolls, while you're reading in the setee beside her.

You peak over her shoulder, clear your throat and say: "You're really talented, Donna".

She drops a stitch.

Her face is burning underneath her veil. The first thing you say to her is a complement??? About a skill she is actually proud of??? That's already enough to get her heart stuttering, but you said her name.

It feels like such a small thing, but it sends Donna into a tizzy. Your lips formed the syllables of her name, and she can't get over it. You said a compliment and her name in the same sentence.

She's swooning. Smitten. Overcome.

Expect some flustered giggling and a compliment in return.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore has no chill whatsoever.

He literally drops everything and scuttles across the room to stand in front of you, flitting his hands around you in excitement, not quite touching you but close.

He's! So! Excited!

He didn't process what you even said-- you SPOKE TO HIM!!!! Fireworks are going off in his brain, Kool and the Gang are celebrating the good times, life is beautiful and love is in the air....

Moreau is delighted by this development. You feel safe enough around him a monster to vocalize your thoughts. You trust him. He already knew you did, but this is confirmation he didn't even know he wanted. Moreau almost starts crying he's so relieved.

Meanwhile you're repeatedly trying to warn him about the disaster occurring on the stove.

"... Salvatore, honey, the pancakes are burning."

Honey???? HONEY??? Are you TRYING to kill him????

Salvatore staggers on his feet, unintentionally the most dramatic you've ever seen him.

Sighing, you hide a smile behind your palm and give him a little smooch on the cheek before you go rescue your breakfast.

Moreau flatlines. Better give him some mouth to mouth 💗.

Karl Heisenberg

Absolutely shocked the first time you speak.

He's working on a soldat, fully used to the silence as he solders body parts together to make a deadly monster worthy of murdering Mother Miranda.

"You missed a spot--"

jESUS FUCK

Very softly, you speak up again. "At the shoulder. It's not... It's not fully connected."

Heisenberg whips around to just...stare??? At you for a bit?? His face is totally expressionless, but make no mistake his brain is reeling.

What is he supposed to do here? You feel comfortable enough to talk with him--this is a big deal, right? Is he supposed to comfort you? Praise you?

Still, it's not in Heisenberg's nature to make a big deal of things, and he doesn't want to spook you.

Eventually he nods, grunts in acknowledgement, and gets back to work.

Still, your words ring in his ears. Your voice fits you so well? He never really thought about what you sounded like before, but honestly now it's all he can think about.

Much later, when you almost forget about the whole thing, he'll offhandedly say he's proud of you for finally speaking up for yourself.

It's kinda condescending? But you know Heisenberg pretty well, and the fact he refuses to meet your eyes let's you know he's just being his normal, socially stunted self.

Thank him for the "compliment" and you'll get a pleased grin back, as well as a teasing hair ruffle. He's...happy you're comfortable with him.

It just makes your relationship feel even more right. ❤️

[alxndryngs]

A Day Off

A/N: Since I am in desperate need of comfort/fluff, I came up with this. Enjoy!

———

Alcina’s favourite maid has a bad day.

———

Alcina, sitting in her atelier, was focused on her newest art piece. She only recently had gotten back into painting, and upon her new oil paints arriving, she had pushed work aside for once and hid away in her art room.

She even asked for her daughters to stay by themselves for the day, and put Bela in charge. Alcina wanted to dedicate herself to the work in process fully, without distractions.

The smell of fresh paint and sounds of birds chirping outside had fully consumed her, and hours passed without her noticing.

It was only when the feeling of hunger clawed at her throat that she noticed how much time had passed. Alcina called out, loud enough for the maids to hear.

“Yes, my lady.” Ingrid asked upon entering, her hands folded behind her back.

“Let y/n know I’m in desperate need of a glass of wine, and perhaps a small snack. She’ll know what to make me.”

Y/n had been her personal maid for almost three years at this point, having proven herself more than capable and worthy. Alcina took a liking to the girl, despite her wanting to admit it. She acted with grace, was humble and kind. Everything Alcina thought she herself was not, despite acting with grace.

The maid had left soon after, nodding before dismissal.

“Thank you, my-“ Alcina’s words ceased once her head turned and she was met by the image of Helena, and not y/n. “I asked for y/n, if I’m not mistaken.” Her tone now had a sharp edge to it, already feeling the annoyance bubbling up inside of her.

“Yes, my lady, I’m aware. But I was available, y/n isn’t feeling well today.”

Alcina paused, the paint covered brush slowly being lowered before placed down. It had surprised her that her little maid was feeling ill. In the years y/n had worked at the castle she might have fallen ill three times in total. Nothing could shake her, not even the freezing temperatures of the winter. Instead of freezing and sitting in front of her fireplace, she insisted on Alcina’s daughters receiving her firewood. ‘She didn’t need it’ she said.

“Well, send her the castle nurse. She will fix a remedy for whatever it is that is causing her to feel ill.” Alcina nodded, convinced this idea would be the solution. As the maid stood still, her mouth opening and closing to fish for an answer, Alcina snapped.

“Stop gawking at me like a dying bubble eye fish and do as I said! What am I paying you for?”

The maids mouth now stood agape in fear, and she stuttered for an answer. “I’m- my lady. I’m ever so sorry. A remedy from the nurse won’t help her. She’s just.. not feeling well mentally today.”

The maid paused, then adding in a panicked tone. “I apologise. I’m not sure if I was allowed to share that with you, Lady Dimitre-“

“I’m your employer, you’ll share with me when you last bled if I wish for you to.” Alcina growled, now standing and pushing the maid aside as she left her atelier.

As she strut through the castle, an anxious feeling overcame her. Y/n had always been collected and happy, and it seemed out of order for her to put work on hold. She had seen people die and burn because of Alcina’s wrath. People burning and screaming, being gutted, and managed to sleep like a baby. It confused Alcina.

She had slowed once entering the hallway leading towards the maidens rooms. Her heels thudded against the carpet, ceasing once having approached y/n’s room.

“Y/n?” Alcina called out, waiting for a response before gently knocking on the door with her knuckle. “Y/n, darling. I’ve heard that-“

Alcina stopped herself as the door opened. She fought the smile threatening to spread across her lips when y/n looked back at her.

“My lady.” She greeted, the same smile as always on the girls lips.

Alcina stood confused, licking her lips to moist them before pushing a smile back.

“Do you need me to wash your dress?”

Alcina’s brows furrowed “Pardon?”

“Your dress, my lady. It’s covered in paint.”

Alcina didn’t bother looking down at herself. Instead she shook her head and began to lean down, moving to step into the room as y/n stepped back to allow her to.

“I heard you were ill.” The stutter in y/n’s heart didn’t miss her. Alcina turned to look at her, waiting until she had closed the door before speaking again, her tone softer this time.

“You have always been by my side, ever since you came to Castle Dimitrescu. You’ve listened to me rant about my incompetent brother, complain over my business and daughters. You even dried my tears and blood for me. It is my turn to return the favour, my dear. Sit, and speak to me. What’s causing your little heart to beat this way?”

Alcina lowered herself onto the bed as she spoke. Y/n wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the kindness in Alcina’s eyes like there was now. It was inviting, comforting.

She obeyed, taking a seat next to her lady. It didn’t take long for the words to pool out of her, and all of a sudden, she had displayed the world to Alcina. Every single one of her concerns and problems laid splayed out before her, for her to look at and judge.

But instead, Alcina remained silent the whole time. Not once had she budged in to ask a question, even though there were multiple that burned on the tip of her tongue.

For comfort, Alcina removed the cream coloured handkerchief from her pocket. The Dimitrescu sigil was stitched into the corner.

Carefully, she had dried the maids tears. Her large hand cupped her cheek, and with the other she dried her tears.

Y/n cried, her face flush because of it and the embarrassment of crying in front of someone like Alcina. A wave of guilt overcame her for so freely unloading her problems onto Alcina.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems, I-“

“Shush.” Alcina snapped, her voice immediately softening after. For a moment she hesitated, but then gently pulled her into her lap. She had to lift her slightly to her height to give her a proper hug. Alcinas gloved fingers ran through her hair, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat against her own chest.

“Don’t ever say that. You are not a burden, or burdening me by speaking about your feelings. Your feelings are more than valid, especially in topics like the ones you have shared with me just now. I am beyond proud that you shared your concerns. It takes courage to speak up about one’s concerns. And from what I can tell, this has bothered you for a long time.”

Alcina gently peeled the maid off of her, only enough so she could look at her. Y/n had leaned on her only after moments, quietly crying into the woman’s shoulder.

Her hands cupped her small face, and Alcina spoke quietly.

“I want you to know that I always will be someone you can trust, and confine in. I’m here, and I’m listening. Do you hear me?”

A small sob bubbled out of her, and she nodded. Y/n’s eyes closed as Alcina pressed the most gentle kiss to her forehead, letting it linger enough for both of them to have time to relish in it before pulling away.

Her lips had left behind a red mark which she would make sure to remove later on. But for now, she was returning the hug y/n had given her. She had thrown her arms around the older woman, holding on tight as her walls began to fully break down and crumble beneath them both.

Alcina closed her eyes, holding her close as she swayed them from side to side. Whispering sweet nothings calmed y/n after a few minutes, and Alcina made sure to show her appreciation of the girl for the rest of the day.

“I started a new art piece.. would you like to join me in the atelier for the rest of the day?” Alcina offered with a smile which intensified upon seeing y/n smile at the suggestion.

She wondered if the girl would notice that it was her Alcina was painting. Taking a stroll through the Dimitrescu garden at midnight, the moon shining down on her.

[cillivnz]

MISS A SPOT, HIT THE SPOT [lord dimitrescu]

pairing. LORD DIMITRESCU x MAID!READER (dub!con turned consensual)

initial, DIMITRESCU SONS x READER (very dubious consent)

word count. 3072

warnings. AFAB!reader, cursing, misogynistic themes, animal cruelty (using gator-skin on furniture; don’t call PETA on me, i’m sorry), groping, a little bit of exhibitionism, dub!con, fingering, reader is pinned against the wall, reader’s family has been serving the Dimitrescus, large age-gap, oral sex (both receiving), throat-fucking, tongue-fucking, clit play, pyromania, dacryphilia, extreme degradation, belittling, spitting, penetrative sex (p! in v!), squirting, multiple & forced orgasms, extreme breast/nipple play, reader’s just being used by the family, reader is called maid as well as a pet name in Romanian, unprotected sex, creampie.

listening to. ‘Enslaved’ by Diva Destruction

notes. Y/L — Your Last Name, Y/F/N — Your Father’s Name, căprița mea mică — my little doe

A regular day in an abysmal castle.

Your ancestry were sworn servants of the Dimitrescu royals, and ensuing your father’s demise after leading a devoted life to the Lord, it was your turn.

You managed to avoid his acknowledge, as well as his sons’; something you thanked your stars for. You were still at a tender age; early twenties yet unexposed to the worldly works, courtesy of your conservative father. You loved the old man, despite him giving you constant reminders that your birth doomed him— how you should’ve been a son to continue his legacy, not a fragile, worthless woman. But those words only came out of his mouth like venom when he was made to overwork or worse— punished.

And like any other day you were dusting the halls. Except it wasn’t every other day you felt your skirt lift up fervently by two strong hands who also pinned you against the wall. An heir. Another, holding you down, while one tugged at your blouse. Alas, the Dimitrescu boys had found you.

“Well, well, the silhouette comes to life.” The one pining you spoke. He had a raspy voice with some baritone to it. “Sire, please leave me be—” you beseeched, but before you could even beg, you choked on your own words as your thong was pushed to the side. “She wants to leave, yet you roam about our land dressed like a whore.” This erupted demonic laughter from all three. “You thought we ought not to catch on?” The one below spoke, his face so close to your cunt, you felt heat radiate off of him with every syllable he dragged. “Your scent lingers— hauntingly— how we’ve chased after your ghost.” “But you were always too fast, little doe.”

“Always teasing us — where were you hiding this beauty? Hm?” One teased, his stone cold lips grazing your bare shoulder. “Moreover where had you been hiding this ass of yours?”

You jolted when a harsh slap landed on your ass, your not-so-subtle moan eliciting evil laughter from the men harassing you.

The one gripping your ass began to spread it, you writhed like a worm in their vice-like embrace, begging and praying for the abuse to be over; in a way it was.

The minute you felt something stroke your folds, prodding at your entrance, a demonic thunder struck. “What do you have here, boys?” They froze, as did you. This is the most cooperation you four have shown, as if unsaid, yet understood that if you hold your breath and close your eyes, the Lord can’t hurt you.

But slowly, as if puppies caught creating chaos by their master, did the boys move away from you. Bright yellow eyes ablaze in the monotonous dark of his castle. His eyes darted from your glassy eyes staring at him, the fear in them, to your rosy cheeks, blood-red lips, and straight to your skirt; your ass was out since a Dimitrescu brother hiked it up, the same heir, on realising what his father’s hungry eyes were doting upon, made a feeble attempt to fix your skirt, but before his fingers, barely tainted with your slick wetness, could touch the fabric of your skirt, let alone fix it, his father ordered. “Don’t you dare lay hands on her, more than you have already.” The Lord spoke with utmost calmness, and that’s what terrified the four of you, you especially, the most.

Reluctantly but obediently they stepped away from you. You were still clinging to the wall, frozen in place. “Come on over,” You saw his gloved hand motion towards him, “My chambers need cleaning.” An ominously mischievous tone and provocative smirk tugged at his lips.

The walk to the Lord’s chambers was awkward and fearful. He had insisted you walked in front of him, and you could feel eyes ripping through your flesh, your predator ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

You were making feeble steps towards his chambers, almost there, when he interrupted you, “Halt,” he said, causing you to stop dead in your tracks, but you dare not look back at him. “Clean my study firstly.” He ordered, and waited by the door for you to turn around.

Once you turned, you were met by calculating amber eyes that peered down at you from a head held high. He stood by the doorframe, and on seeing you make weak, yet progressive steps towards him, his thunderous strides entered the chamber. He was seated on a leather chair by the time you entered, as if he’d been there the entire time. ‘Gator skin,’ you heard a rumour the one time you cleaned the Lord’s study before. ‘He tore it apart with his bare hands, and had it skinned into a chair as a trophy.’ You hadn’t believed the chamberlain until you’d seen it yourself.

On the left of it was an ablaze fireplace, and in front, was a library; not colossal, yet extreme in number. Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display.

“Do you fancy reading?” You almost jumped when his ravenous voice broke the eerie silence you were just growing accustomed to. “Yes, my Lord.” You seemed to pique his interest when he hummed after a short pause, surprised within yourself at the sudden confidence. It was clear, you preferred the father’s company to his sons’. Perhaps, you felt safe knowing he is the leash on his sons— the fear of your fears.

“Well, if your cleaning is satisfactory, perhaps… I’ll let you take some.” the Lord proposed, but somehow you knew this reward wasn’t for cleaning but something else he wanted to deem satisfactory.

You dare not utter another word and got to cleaning.

Dusting away, between books, underneath books; wiping away at the large mirror by the shelves. “What do they call you?” He asked with authority.

“Y/N Y/L, my Lord,” you hesitantly revealed. “Y/L!” He exclaimed, “You’re Y/F/N Y/L’s daughter,” he concluded in a wicked tone. With each wipe, he grew closer and closer and the horrid smile on his face grew wider and more sinister, forcing you to look back at him at a neck-snapping speed, only to catch him, still seated, gazing at you innocently.

“Mop the floors,” he requested, before adding “Maid.” As if asking your revelation of your identity fell on deaf ears that never demanded it. Without muttering, you dampen the mop and began cleaning.

This was just cruel.

You thought your saviour actually required your services, yet the man had you in the same position as his sons, except voluntarily, for you had to bend on all fours and stretch not to miss a spot, after all you were cleaning your master’s land, at his request. ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ you sighed, only daring to think of it.

You heard fervent movement behind you, and the next thing you feel is your thong being pulled down till your ankles. It happened all too fast, you barely registered anything until his large hands spread you open to him. “They were right about you,” He spoke, intrigued, “Such exemplary beauty, căprița mea mică. Utterly pristine.”

Noticing your haltered movements, he quirked a brow. “Did I permit you to stop?” You choked a gasp, feeling his left hand trace your curves, making its way to squeeze your throat, while his right hand fiddled with your glistening folds. “No sir,” you breathed a sigh at the pleasure he was making you feel. “Fucking continue then.” He ordered and you did.

Maybe not a regular day in an abysmal castle. Your 9’6 Lord and Master, the fearsome and notorious, the head of the dreaded Dimitrescu family, Lord Dimitrescu himself, kneeling behind you while you wipe his floors, fingers stroking your lips, not yet penetrating, just— “Oh!” You moaned when a long, thick, wet something slithered about your pussy. Prodding at the places his very fingers grazed, now wiggling inside you.

You began panting, about to look back and begin your pleads when a strong hand grabbed your skull and forced it in place.

You were terrified; just a bit more coaxing and he could crack open your skull. You were less than half his size and half his age. What was more frightening to you was that it was just the tip of his tongue inside you. Your eyes rolled back and damn-near saw your brain as he began pushing more of it in.

Still, obediently, you wiped.

This pleased the Lord as he wrapped an arm over your waist to your legs and brought his thumb to your clit. The circular motions of figure-eights on your clit were frantic, causing an excruciating jolt of pleasure to run down your lower half, his anomaly of a tongue amplifying the feel.

You bit you lip, nearly drawing blood as the knot in your core grew unbearable. Feeling you clench around his tongue, Lord Dimitrescu replaced the oral attack with two of his fingers, stretching you so bittersweetly. The assault on your cunt was aching. He’d graze your g-spot oh-so-softly, slowly driving you to the edge yet deliberately prolonging the high tide. “You are making a mess, căprița mea mică,” he sighed, eyeing the slick dripping down your thighs, drenching you in all, and the wooden floor beneath you. “Allow me to help.” It was more imperative than offering, so it was but natural you grimaced in pain when he pulled out his fingers, moments before you were coming undone, only to spread your aching hole and spit into it.

You moaned; shamelessly, you let out a filthy, degraded moan, and the sound travelled straight to the Lord’s cock. “There, there,” he rubbed his spit on your folds, your swollen clit bathed in it, “All better — nice and clean.” He chuckled, causing goosebumps to arise on your spine and your breath to get caught in your throat when he shoved not two but three fingers smoothly into your weeping cunt.

You clenched at the sudden attack, bewildered at how easily you were being made to cum for your master yet again. He rose from his position to whisper in your ear, “Hits the spot, doesn’t it?” At that moment, he had you unravelling with a curl on his fingers inside you.

You screaming a string of curses, the Lord greatly amused by your sailor’s tongue.

He stood up, without a word or move. “Clean the mess you made.” He gestured down at your juices that he flowed out of your cunt. “And while you’re down there…” He unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock that sprang free, a demonic thing, it was; certainly, not pleasurable to accommodate inside, unless…

“Don’t be afraid, maid.” His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring.

“It can’t hurt you, unless I want it to.” His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you. You wavered off the uneasiness, still eager to please your master. Grabbing his colossal cock, you began to work out the large vein on the underside of it. He hissed when you applied pressure, using both your hands in an attempt to hold it; in vain it went. You licked the tip, before slowly taking it in your mouth.

“That’s it. Show me you’re an all-rounder, maid; not just for wiping floors, show me that’s not all you can do bent over.” He chuckled, something so sinister about how his own vulgarity was so amusing to him. However, you weren’t opposed to it. After all, orders were orders; that’s one thing your father did teach you, if ordered directly, orders are orders, even if they’re fatal.

You gagged on less-than half the length, but your quick save by jacking off the inches unabsorbed by your mouth was much appreciated by the man above you. His large palm resting atop your head, slowly caressing your messed up hair into place. The gesture nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

“You take it like it was made for you.” He cooed. You couldn’t help but put your guard down, making it unknowingly advantageous to the Lord who grabbed the same head he was caressing, as support to fuck your throat. He only chuckled at the stream of years flowing through your glassy eyes. Your flushed face tainted with tears was now red with lack of oxygen. His cock was slamming past your uvula; the bell tolls, as if he were morally obligated to.

“So young, yet you suck cock like you’ve been a whore all your life.” He chuckled to himself, before thrusting in deeply, and cumming inside your mouth. You swallowed his ichor without being told, when you stuck out your tongue to show him, he groaned, face contorted in some form of arousal, as he lifted your frame to his, kissing you with neediness. His lips were surprisingly tender, beard teasing your face while his tongue, one that swept your insides clean, forced entry into your mouth, which you hesitantly permitted.

“Dust by the fireplace, better get to it.” He said, pulling away from you. You grabbed the supplies and moved towards the said place. You hadn’t noticed when the flames became blazing, a conflagration, either way, you dipped the mop in the bucket beside you, and began wiping.

You couldn’t get much done, however, for from underneath your skirt, you felt something big prod your entrance. Rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, Lord Dimitrescu positioned himself behind you, before shoving the whole of it in. You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure. “My…-my Lord!” You moaned, trying to form an actual sentence, “This is highly inap…-inappropriate!” You managed to muster. “Really now?” He questioned, you don’t know if it was a scoff or a laugh following his amused tone. “Who,” he paused, pushing you forward. You were now a stone’s throw away from the fire, every thrust into you pulled you back, which, despite the burn of the stretch, made you grateful for you were pulled back from the fireplace. “Do you think,” he continued, thrusting into you harder each time; the heat of the fire threatening to melt you whole, grazing your face, delicately. “You are.” He finished, slamming into you so hard, you began to cum, but before you could unravel before him, he pulled out, causing your pussy to spasm around the eerie nothingness of the room.

You were reduced to a whining mess, no words coming out of your abused mouth. “What’s the matter, maid? You want to cum?” he questioned, gripping your curvy hips. “Even when you’ve missed a spot?” One of his arms snaked on your waist, the other roamed about your spine, laying you down, before pulling your head up by your hair.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” he groaned, cock pressing against your slit, it’s new home, yet not in. He grabbed the bucket of freshwater besides you, pouring it all on the floor. “Let’s get that spot, shall we?” He said, before doing something so degrading, you felt disgusted in your own skin for enjoying.

Your hot body was used to wipe the floors of Lord Dimitrescu’s study. Ripping your blouse into shreds, he groped your breasts that had sprang free, before positioning your chest on the wet floor, and swaying you left to right.

This man, your ancestry’s master, was balls deep inside your abused pussy, fucking away the life in you, while using your tits as a mop. You moaned as your burning skin made contact with the icy puddle. “That’s how you wipe, căprița mea mică, so much better.” He grunted, the pace, the size, the girth, the sheer brutality of his sex was like a punch to the gut, nonetheless your poor cunt made feeble attempts to get accustomed to the ongoing torture. Your cunt clenched around his cock while your breasts swayed from side to side, the carpet had soupçons of water, courtesy of the fervency with which you “wiped”, which it soaked up instantly.

“My Lord, I’m going to- oh!” You yelped when he pulled out, shoving his fingers inside you and curling them. You hadn’t anticipated this, body reacting on sheer adrenaline junk that’s been coaxed out of you since the incident with this man’s sons in the halls of his castle.

Then, as fate would have it, mocking your misery, you squirted all over the floor. The juices gushing out your cunt, drowning the man that coaxed them out. He giggled, like a fucking teenager, while you fought for consciousness. Sure, you’d had sex before, he was a chef in this very place who mysteriously disappeared, but a man Lord Dimitrescu’s size? You had never held your head high around the family, avoiding their gaze like a thief, and now he’s fucking you like a stinging reminder of why you should’ve stayed in the shadows— remained a silhouette.

You were sore from the previous two orgasms, yet the man made it look easy to coax your third. The hostility your cunt displaying, clenching around the wanted, yet unmanageable penetration, was enough to unravel Lord Dimitrescu, you following with pornographic screams.

His grip on your hip and scalp was tormenting, but it soon loosened when he pumped into you one last time, pussy milked dry, filled with his overflowing load. He exhaled sharply, pulling up your panties, tapping your ass lightly. “You have been amazing — definitely considering promoting you.” He seemed very proud of his joke. Leaning down to catch your ear where you’d nearly passed out on the ground, he whispered in your ear. “Now, clean up.”

He left a moment after, stopping at the doorway to catch a glimpse of your sexy, worn out body. “My room’s next.” He said, leaving you alone with a shit load of mess to clean.

Your mess.

main masterlist. more from “resident evil: village”.

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 18 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Things at the meeting get out of hand and Alcina loses control.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. Canon violence, blood

Tags: angst, hurt, some comfort, the tiniest dash of fluff

Notes: Part 18! Shit gets real!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

A soft click echoes through the dilapidated chapel when the door closes behind you. Alcina strides forward into the center of the room and you follow behind her right hand side.

"Donna, how have you been?" Alcina asks Donna who is sitting in a chair to the left of the small stage in the back of the room.

"Very well, and yourself, Lady Dimitrescu?"

"Excellent. I've been well. You remember my new handmaiden, yes?"

"Of course. Good morning." Angie's mouth moves but Donna's voice is what comes through.

"Good morning Lady Beneviento." You say with a bow.

"Hey! What about me?!" Angie says in her own voice.

Alcina rolls her eyes at the doll and waves her off.

"Yes, good morning to you too Angie." Alcina mumbles.

"That's what I like to hear! Your new bloodbag is cute, wonder how long she'll last!" Angie says before cackling loudly.

The doll hops off of Donna's lap and walks right up to you and looks up as she circles you.

"Hm, I guess she's okay. Probably won't last too long." She says before shooting you a wink and climbing back into Donna's lap.

"Good morning Miss Angie." You say with a bow.

"And she has manners! Who would've thought?!"

Alcina rolls her eyes again and turns towards the other side of the church. As you look around you notice that the chapel is in worse shape than the hallway that led the two of you here. The back of the room is being help up by what looks like makeshift scaffolding and there's a gaping hole in the ceiling.

"Ah, Salvatore, good morning." Alcina says.

As you look up you see a hunched over man with a rather large hump on his back. He's wearing a black leather jacket that looks more like a cloak draped over him with a crown of, are those bones? Fastened to the hood. Strands of black scraggily hair dangle just below the multiple tumor-like lumps on his neck and face.

Moreau looks up at Alcina and waves with a purple-grey webbed hand.

"Good morning Lady." He gurgles.

"Salvatore, I would like you to meet my new handmaiden." Alcina says, gesturing to you.

"Good morning Lord Moreau." You say with a bow.

The man lets out a noise that almost sounds like a sob. When you look up you see a mouth full of rotted and crooked teeth, most of which are nearly pointing outwards towards you. It's then you realize that he's laughing. A feeling of uneasiness washes over you and you look up at Alcina to find her narrowing her eyes at the man.

"Oh this must be the one mother was speaking of!" He says as he excitedly claps his hands together. "Mother said she has many fun things planned for you!"

"Has she now?" Alcina says as her stare intensifies.

Moreau looks up at Alcina and the glee in his eyes quickly fades. He begins to stutter and she cuts him off.

"Well I certainly hope mothers plans on playing nice. We all know that I take pride in keeping what is mine in pristine condition and that I don't like when my property is damaged." She says through her teeth.

You watch as the ice laced in her voice causes Salvatore to shrink back into himself. He begins to tremble under her stare and just when you think the man before you is going to fall down to his knees and beg for her forgiveness, the back doors swing open with a loud "BANG."

Everyone turns and looks towards the direction the noise came from to find Heisenberg strutting through the doors with his hammer slung over his shoulder.

"Heisenberg. Do you have any manners?" Alcina hisses as she walks towards him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. It's not like this dump could get any worse."

"You're late."

"So is the bird bitch but I bet I won't see you saying shit to her about it." Alcina glares at him and his gaze shifts to you. "Hey kid, gotcha something."

He tosses something at you and you're able to catch it even though you were caught off guard. Alcina eyes what's in your hand as you unravel it and you realize it's a dagger in a leg holster. You slide the dagger out of its holster to take a look at it. Right away you notice the Dimitrescu coat of arms engraved into both sides of the hilt. The dagger is lightweight but razor-sharp, it's beautiful.

"Thank you very much, Lord Heisenberg. It's wonderful, your craftsmanship is excellent." You say with a bow.

"Don't thank me yet. You can thank me when you know it works." He shoots you a wink and Alcina's glare towards him intensifies. "Go ahead, slap that baby on!"

You look up at Alcina to see that her eyes are still aimed at Karl. Her gazes drops down to you and she sighs and gives you a nod. Stepping aside, you turn away from everyone and strap the dagger to your thigh so you can easily grab it with your dominant hand. After making sure it's secure and easily accessible, you smooth out your dress over it and turn back to the two of them and give them a nod.

Karl gives you a nod and Alcina places her hand on your back and begins to guide you towards her large chair. Karl sits in the pew opposite of her and you stand to her right just a touch behind her.

"Sal, Donna, china doll." Karl says, nodding to each person.

"HEY! I'm not china doll!" Angie screeches.

"Might as well be, Frankenstein." He drawls.

"Listen you! Keep it up and you're gonna regret it!"

"What are you gonna do? Give me a splinter?"

Donna has to restrain Angie in her lap so she doesn't jump out and run over to Karl.

"I'll show you what I can do!"

Alcina pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to keep her temper from getting away from her.

Just as Karl is about to retort and Alcina's patience nearly runs out there's a burst of black feathers in the center of the stage. Mother Miranda steps out from the black cloud in her usual garb. Alcina releases the breath she was holding and Angie and Karl's bickering immediately stops.

"My children, good morning."

"Good morning Mother Miranda." You all say in unison.

"I hope this morning finds you all well." She says, looking at each person in the chapel. Her eyes wander from Karl, to Sal, to Donna and Angie, to Alcina and finally land on you. You watched as each person, Angie included, met her gaze and bowed their head so you do the same when she catches your eyes. "Ah, y/n. So wonderful to have you with us today."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mother Miranda." You say.

"You will be taking today's notes, is that correct?"

"Yes Mother Miranda."

"Excellent." She walks over to you and places a book and a pen into your hands. "I look forward to reading your recordings. Please, pull up a chair." She says, gesturing to a knocked over chair behind you.

Looking at Alcina, she gives you a nod and you move to pick up the chair, placing it in the exact spot you were standing; on Alcina's right side just a little behind her. Mother Miranda watches your every move until you're seated and have the book open in your lap. After looking you over once more she makes her way back to the center of the stage.

"It has come to my attention that there have been hunters in the vicinity of the castle, is that correct Heisenberg?"

"Yes, my lycans have encountered nearly 20 of them in the span of just a few days. They seem organized and heavily armored. Two were also spotted a few miles south of Potter's Field as well as two more south of the reservoir. My lycans went out to find more and to follow them back to their base but they haven't seen any more since the last encounter."

"And did you meet with Alcina like I had asked of you?"

"Yes, we met the other day to discuss a plan. I am increasing the amount of lycans I have patrolling the castle grounds. I am also sending out extra lycans to both Potter's Field and the reservoir to patrol."

"And I plan on patrolling the castle grounds myself this week to see what I can find." Alcina adds.

"Excellent. Were there any prisoners taken?" Miranda asks.

"My lycans were able to get one after the last fight, but the prisoner put a bullet in his own head before they were able to get anything useful out of him."

"Well, that's certainly interesting, isn't it?"

"Can't say it's happened before."

"And when the base is located, what is the plan?"

"We plan on taking some time to quietly scout it out. Get a rough layout, a headcount of the amount of hunters that are there, what kind of weapons they have and if we can get wind of their plans. Once the information is gathered we will act accordingly."

Mother Miranda, Karl and Alcina discuss the hunters more as you continue to take as detailed notes as possible. Donna and Salvatore chime in every so often with questions and suggestions. Donna said that if the hunters do end up entering the field she will use her cadou powers to get rid of them. Moreau seemed more worried and mentioned that he doesn't have as much control over his mutations as his siblings, leaving him more vulnerable. Karl and Alcina reassured him that they will take extra precautions to ensure his safety.

"Does anyone have any more questions or concerns?" Mother Miranda asks. When no one says anything, her eyes shift over to you. "Well then, it seems as though this portion of the meeting is finished. Y/n, if you could be so kind, could you please bring me your notes?"

You feel your body tense and your eyes shift towards Alcina. Alcina's eyes are narrowed towards Mother Miranda. Miranda returns Alcina's look and Alcina turns her head towards you and gives you a nod. There's a worry in her eyes you can tell she's trying to hide. Maybe no one else can see it, but you can. Perhaps because you're trying to hide the same look from your eyes.

"Well, well, Alcina. Do you have this one well trained." Miranda says as she watches you move towards her.

The short walk towards Miranda felt like it was a mile long. As hard as you tried to keep your nerves at bay you could feel your heartbeat increase with each step towards her. You truly felt like you were walking into the lions den. Miranda extends her hand and you give her the book. She flips through it, skimming through the notes you've taken. After a minute she closes the book and holds it down. Angie jumps out of Donna's lap and grabs the book from Miranda and returns to Donna. Miranda takes a step towards you and you feel your breath freeze in your lungs. You do your best to keep your face neutral but your heartbeat is so loud it's drowning out the sound of everything else around you.

"Excellent job. Your penmanship is quite exquisite."

"Thank you, Mother Miranda." You say as you bow your head.

Just before you're about to pick your head back up you feel cold metal against your skin. Opening your eyes you realize Miranda has placed one of her talon-clad knuckles under your chin and lifts your gaze up to meet hers.

"So, you are Alcina's new handmaiden?"

"Yes Mother Miranda."

"What else?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand?"

"What else do you do for her?" She hisses.

"I do anything my Mistress asks of me, Mother Miranda." You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

"Anything, you say?"

"Yes Mother Miranda." You say before you swallow hard.

"What about you is so special? Why would she chose you, purchase you, a poor orphan? A useless wretch?"

You can hear Alcina shift uncomfortably in her chair and Miranda's eyes snap towards her. They slide back to you and an evil grin creeps across her lips.

Before you know it, the finger that was under your chin snaps down and she grabs you by the neck and lifts you up.

Instinctively, your hands grab at her wrist and your feet dangle just above the ground. Mother Miranda slowly presses the base of her palm against the front of your throat and she begins choking you. You start to sputter and your feet start to flail.

"Mother Miranda that is enough!" Alcina roars as she stands to her full height.

Miranda holds out a finger towards Alcina, signaling for her to wait.

"What is it about her that makes you want to protect her so, my daughter?" She asks while she examines you. "What about her is so special? So special in fact that you are unwilling to allow me to use her in my experiments?"

"Mother Miranda let her go!"

Miranda's grasp around your neck only tightens as she cuts off the rest of your airflow. Her sharp talons dig into your skin and you feel blood begin to trickle down your neck.

"Just how much are you willing to sacrifice, Alcina? I had to teach Karl a similar lesson all those years ago. I never thought you would be in need of one as well but perhaps I was wrong about you all along."

"Mother Miranda, please! She is not a distraction, I am still working diligently towards your goal, please just let her go!"

As you're struggling in her grasp you see Donna and Angie in your peripheral vision as your eyes dart around the room. Donna is as stiff as a mannequin but Angie has a look of horror on her face. You hear movement to your right and you look over to see Moreau staring at Miranda with a look of excitement on his face and Karl next to him with his hammer in his hand. You feel something move on your leg and you realize it's Karl wiggling the dagger, reminding you it's there. Your vision begins to blur as you gasp and the world around you begins to spin.

"Are you sure I don't need to teach you a lesson Alcina?"

"Yes Mother, please!"

An evil chuckle emerges from her lips. With her free hand, Mother Miranda digs her talon into your clavicle and pulls down as blood begins to pour down your chest. Her talon in your skin feels like a hot knife and you can't do anything but scream out in pain before she throws you to the ground.

You feel the impact of the hard stone but it doesn't register right away. The first thing you do is gasp for air as your hands go to your neck and chest.

Alcina begins to step towards you and you hear Miranda tsk at her.

"My, my, Alcina. I've never seen you care for such a disposable maiden before. Maybe you do need to learn a lesson after all."

"Mother no!" You hear Alcina shout before the ground next to you splits in two and a black vine shoots up towards the sky. Pieces of stone are sent flying across the room and the vine dives down towards you.

Mother Miranda cackles as the vine wraps around your neck again and lifts you into the air. You hear Alcina scream and when you look over towards her, her legs and arms are being bound by more vines.

The vines begin to choke you as they dangle you in front of Alcina, just outside of her reach. There is fear in her eyes, you can see the terror as she watches the vine around your neck tighten its grip. Alcina roars and rips her arm out of one of the vines when you reach out towards her. The vine holding you pulls you further away. A new vine tries to grab Alcina's free hand but her claws come out and she shreds it when it tries to grapple her.

Remembering the dagger strapped to your leg, you reach down and grab it. Even something as simple as grabbing the dagger that's strapped to you is harder than it should be. Your vision starts to get spotty and you put all of your focus into reaching for the blade. Your bloodied fingers are able to find the grooved hilt, they graze over the coat of arms engraving and you're able to grab it. With one quick swipe you manage to cut through the vine. When you're released from it's grasp you plummet to the floor and hit the ground. The noise of metal against stone rings in your ears as the dagger bounces away. Air once again floods your lungs and after a moment you're able to breathe.

Before you can catch your breath, another vine lunges towards you and you dodge it. The dagger isn't far from your grasp so you crawl across the dirt coated stone floor and grab it. Another vine comes at you and you roll away. When you're finally able to get back to your feet another, thicker vine shoots towards you and you parry it, slicing it with the sharp blade. More vines come at you and you're able to evade most of the attacks. Each time one wraps around one of your limbs you're able to cut it off and escape. Looking over at Alcina, thicker, stronger vines try to hold her back but her focus stays on you. She has both fear and rage in her eyes. You notice them widen when you make eye contact with her and she yells out "draga!"

By the time you see the vine coming towards you it's too late. It wraps itself around the hand your dagger is in and crawls up your forearm. In one hark flick the vine throws you across the room, the dagger flying out of your grasp.

You're thrown into debris and broken pews and Alcina screams. When you open your eyes everything is blurry and spinning. As your vision stabilizes and clears you see her shred through the vines holding her in place. She claws at every vine that comes her way as she runs towards you before she falls to her knees and scoops you into her arms.

Everything around you spins again and all you see are more vines coming towards you. Instinctively, you close your eyes and wait for the vines to wrap around you once more. Alcina's body violently twitches and she lets out a pained cry. A horrific tearing sound and the cracking of bones fill your ears as she cries out and holds you tighter. With one last twitch Alcina's shoulders slump forward, all of the noise fades and you notice that the light has dimmed through your closed eyelids. When you open them up again, you're met with Alcina's golden eyes. Looking around you see massive white, veiny wings surrounding you both. Alcina brushes the hair out of your face and you meet her gaze once more.

"I have you, draga mea. I have you." She whispers with a trembling voice.

You bring your hand to her face and stroke her cheek with your thumb. Alcina closes her eyes and leans into your touch. A slow clap pulls the two of you away from your moment and Alcina pulls her wings back allowing the light in. She turns with you in her arms and Mother Miranda is standing at the edge of the stage slowly clapping her hands.

"Well, well. That was quite a show. Your little handmaid is more dexterous than I would have thought. And you, Alcina, care more deeply for her than I ever would have imagined. You defy me, for her?" She says, her voice growing cold.

You can feel the rapid rise and fall of Alcina's chest against your body, you can practically feel the anger radiating off of her.

"I have told you before, Mother, she is mine. She is my property. You said you understood and that you would leave her be."

"You care for her?"

"Yes."

"You need her?"

"Yes."

"Then prove it."

Alcina's grip around you tightens and you look up at her and back to Mother Miranda. Miranda has a sinister smirk on her face and it's worse than unsettling. It's downright terrifying.

"Prove it, Alcina. Prove to me that you care for her, that you need her. Feed from her."

Terror flashes before Alcina's eyes and by the time you blink it's gone. She's nearly trembling as she stares at Miranda. It's mostly out of anger but there's something about her that makes you feel her fear. Whether or not Miranda can feel it too is something you're unsure of. For whatever reason, Alcina is worried about feeding from you and you don't know why. She's done it plenty of times before and there's never been any issues. There's something about this that's different, but you don't know what.

"If you do, I give you my word, I will leave her alone. For good." She says, her sinister smile curling upwards even more.

Alcina's wings flare at Miranda's statement and she looks down at you. Looking up to meet her gaze, you see how scared she is, but you also see something else, something you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic, feral even. The both of you know this is your only chance, but deep down you know that if Mother Miranda knew this would be easy she never would have suggested it. It worries you but you're much more afraid of Miranda than you are of Alcina, even if the look in her eyes is completely feral. This was your one shot, you had to take it.

You raise your hand to Alcina's cheek and stroke it with your thumb.

"It's okay, I trust you." You whisper.

Miranda chuckles and Alcina looks up and glares at her. She looks back down at you and you smile at her, nodding your head. Her grip on you relaxes and when it does you notice her golden eyes begin to cloud with white. Alcina lifts you towards her mouth and she leans down.

She inhales deeply through her nose into your neck and you can feel and hear a deep growl come from inside her chest. You've heard her growl before but this was stronger, more primal than you've ever heard before. Alcina begins to suck and lick the perfect spot on your neck. Each movement becoming more frenzied than the last. Whenever Alcina fed from you previously she was always gentle, she made sure it was as painless as possible every time. This time you can feel her control slipping and a bolt of fear shoots through you.

The moment you felt that fear it was like Alcina was able to smell it. Because the moment after it hit you she bit down into your neck harder than she ever has before. You clench your jaw to keep the yelp in but you still grunt in pain. After biting through your flesh Alcina takes deep gulps from your neck, her grip on you tightening once more.

This is the worst pain you've ever felt in your life and she isn't making it any better. Previously, Alcina would barely move as she fed from you, but today her head and neck are bobbing with each gulp. Every time she sucks down more blood you can feel her teeth sinking further and further into your body. You can hear them tearing through muscles and tendons, the noises make your stomach churn. Every time she bites through something else inside of you you can feel every inch of her teeth against parts of you body that should never be exposed.

Alcina has never taken this much blood from you and you realize that she's completely out of control. She doesn't realize how much she's hurting you, and right now, she doesn't care. This is why Miranda wanted her to do this. She knew she wouldn't be in control of herself. Miranda wanted Alcina to be the one that kills you.

Another bolt of fear shoots through you and Alcina becomes more ravenous.

"Alcina!" You say, trying to push her off of you. "Alcina! Stop!"

She grabs your wrist and pulls it away from her face, as if you're getting in her way. You start to thrash in her grasp as panic sets in. She's going to kill you. The harder you fight the tighter her grip on you becomes and the more she drinks.

"Alcina please! Stop! You're hurting me!" You cry.

You were trying to keep your tears from falling but now you've lost all control of them. As you continue to try, and fail, to fight her off you start to feel weak. Soon you physically can't fight back anymore. Tears stream down your face and you cry out to her.

"Alcina, please! Please stop! That's enough, please!"

Your begs fall on deaf ears. This isn't Alcina, you don't know who - or what - has possessed her but this isn't the woman you love right now. That woman is far gone and has been replaced with a bloodthirsty creature you've never seen before. The more she drinks, the more lightheaded you feel. You can feel her teeth scraping against the artery in your neck and the fear gets stronger. If she punctures it, that's it. You'll be dead in minutes. There has to be something you can do to save yourself, isn't there? You don't want to die, not like this.

Alcina, the woman you love, is going to be the death of you. She's going to be the one who kills you. It breaks your heart knowing how devastated she's going to be when she realizes what she's done. If you were going to die, you're glad it would be by her hand at least. You would chose being killed by Alcina as opposed to Mother Miranda any day of the week, but still, you don't want to die.

The world around you begins to blur and you think back to your training with Cassandra, desperately trying to remember if you learned anything that could help you right now. The entire time you were training was to help you defend yourself against Miranda, you never thought you would have to defend yourself against Alcina.

As the thoughts flood your mind you remember something Cassandra had said at dinner after your first day of training. You were too exhausted to really participate in the conversation but you remember she said something about how prey tastes better when it's afraid. The fear sweetens the blood.

A lightbulb goes off in your head. The room begins to spin faster and your vision gets blurrier but you do your best to completely relax in her arms. You stop fighting against the hand she has around your wrist and after a few moments she loosens her grip enough for you to slide out of it. Bringing it to her face, you begin to caress her cheek and whisper to her.

"Alcina, my love, please. That's enough. That's enough."

You know you can't handle much more, if she doesn't stop, that's it. As you continue to caress her cheek with the little strength you have left you realize there's a very good chance you won't be able to stop her. One nick to that artery and you're done. More tears fall down your cheeks as you make peace with the fact that this is how you're going to die.

"I love you, Alcina. I love you. Let me go, that's enough."

Just as you feel like you're about to lose consciousness, just as you feel her starting to bite down harder into that artery, she eases up. Mustering up the tiny amount of energy and lifeforce you have left, you continue to caress her cheek and whisper to her.

"That's enough my love, that's enough."

Alcina pulls away from your neck and you feel the blood pour down your shoulder and back. It takes a lot of energy but you manage to open your eyes. When you look up you expect to be met with Alcina's golden irises but instead you're met with completely white eyes. As if the gold was never there to begin with. Her impassive eyes stare down at you as you bleed in her arms from your neck and chest wounds. Alcina's face is covered in your blood, coating her chin down to her neck and chest. She looks like a predator that just had its way with its prey.

Her grip around you tightens and her breathing starts to increase and her eyes widen as if she's afraid.

"Shh, I'm okay." You whisper as you stroke her face again. "I'm okay."

She leans down and you close your eyes. You feel her nose against your cheek as she gently nudges you, like a mother animal nuzzling her baby. A whimper escapes from her and you open your eyes once more.

"I'm okay," you say as you struggle to stay conscious. "I'm okay."

Alcina's eyes dart up as Mother Miranda takes a step forward. A deep warning growl rumbles in her chest towards Miranda. Miranda takes another step forward and Alcina takes one large step backwards, baring her teeth and snarling at her, holding you in a protective position in her arms. Mother Miranda doesn't take another step forward and Alcina takes one more step backwards before kneeling to the ground and covering the both of you with her wings again. Your eyes open when you feel her nudge you again with her nose and after you make eye contact with her she nuzzles you.

Alcina leans in towards the wound and you try to lift your hand but you're too weak.

"No more Alcina, please."

She pulls back and nudges you again. A loud purr erupts from her chest and you can feel the vibration throughout your body. She leans in towards the wound again. You realize that she isn't going to feed anymore so you don't stop her. Alcina licks over the open wound, cleaning away the blood. It's still bleeding profusely but the more Alcina tends to it, the less it bleeds. The purring in her chest echoes throughout the chapel as she continues to clean you. When she's finished she places a soft kiss to the wound and pulls away, you open your eyes to see the white in her eyes slowly fading back into gold.

Alcina blinks a few times and a few tears roll down her cheeks. She puts her forehead to yours and holds you tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry draga." She whispers.

Her arms begin to tremble and she pulls away, wiping the tears from her eyes. Standing back up, her wings fold against her back, opening you up to the rest of the chapel once more.

Glaring at Mother Miranda, Alcina doesn't wait for her to speak.

"Are we finished here?" She says through bloody, gritted teeth.

Mother Miranda tilts her head as she observes the two of you for a moment.

"Very well. I suppose so. Meeting adjourned."

In a burst of black feathers, Miranda is gone. Alcina wastes no time opening up her wings and begins to beat them. After a few seconds her feet are off the ground and she's flying through the air and out of the hole in the chapels ceiling with you in her arms.

If you were more conscious you would be either terrified or amazed as she flies you over the castle grounds. Since you can barely keep your eyes open you focus on the feeling of the wind in your face and try to stay awake.

Alcina lands on the balcony of her chambers. The blood she took from you is starting to take its effect and she can finally let her wings disintegrate. It's uncomfortable but not nearly as painful as it is when they rip themselves out of her back when they form. She dusts off her dress and ducks into the room.

She lays you on the bed and cuts your uniform off of you and removes the now empty leg holster. After taking off her gloves - her hat had fallen off and was forgotten about during the fight - she grabs medical supplies from the bathroom and returns to your bedside.

Truthfully, you feel half dead, you probably looked it too. The blood loss you've suffered is making you a little delusional. You think you're in Alcina's room but you're not quite sure since the room is spinning and your vision is blurry and black spots are fading in and out of it.

The wound on your neck opened up again and continues to bleed. Luckily she never hit your artery but you're still bleeding too much. Alcina takes out gauze and places it over the bite mark, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. The feeling of pressure on your wound sends a lightening rod of pain through your body and you cry out as you try and move out of her grasp.

"Shh, I know it hurts draga, I know. I have to apply pressure to it, we have to get the bleeding under control." She pleads with you as you start to thrash under her grip. "Draga please!"

The more she tries to restrain you the more you scream and cry. You don't understand that she's trying to help, all you know is that you're in pain and you need it to stop.

The door to Alcina's room swings open and the three girls swarm inside.

"What's going on?!" Bela asks.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Daniela screams when she sees you, a bloodied mess, on her mothers bed.

"Hold her down!" Alcina yells at the girls. The three of them remain frozen in place. "Now, damnit!"

Bela flies to the other side of the bed and holds your arms down, Daniela and Cassandra each hold down one of your legs. Alcina continues to apply pressure to the wound and you shake your head back and fourth trying to get her off. A large hand cups your face and holds you still. Opening your eyes you see Alcina's golden eyes filled with tears.

"I know it hurts draga, I know. I have to stop the bleeding. Please, please relax."

Your body is still in fight or flight mode but your brain begins to register that she's trying to help. Staring into her eyes, you stop flailing and start to cry.

"It hurts." You say through tears.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry, just hold still, it'll all be over soon. I promise."

"Mama, was this you?" Daniela asks as her wide eyes stare at the blood soaked gauze at your neck.

Alcina can't bear to look her daughter in the eye. She turns her head as the tears she's desperately holding back threaten to fall.

"What happened?" Cassandra says through her teeth. Alcina keeps her head turned and Cassandras tone becomes ice cold. "Mother, what did you do?"

Looking down at Cassandra, you feel her grip on your calf tighten and you see the anger in her eyes directed towards her mother. As the panic in you fades, you realize just how angry she is at Alcina. For all she knows Alcina lost control and almost killed you on her own.

"Cassandra, please." Alcina whispers.

"You almost killed her!" She yells.

"It's not her fault." You say with a rasped whisper.

From Mother Miranda's hand and vines around your neck, your throat is in pain and you can barely speak. Cassandra's gaze shifts from her mother to you. Her eyes are just as intense but have less rage directed your way.

"It was Miranda's fault. She made her."

Speaking just that much was enough to properly exhaust you. You close your eyes and Cassandra looks back at her mother.

"Cassandra I didn't have a choice-"

"I told you she was evil!" Cassandra yells. "We've been telling you for years that Mother Miranda is horrible and you wouldn't listen to us! Now look what happened! You almost killed her! This never would have happened if you told that bitch to fuck off!"

"Cassandra Dimitrescu-"

"No! I don't care! I don't care if Miranda made you, this is your fault! Look at what you've done to her!" She yells, gesturing to your bloodied and bruised body. "Look at what you did!"

Alcina stares at Cassandra with her mouth open in shock. Out of the three girls Cassandra was always the one that talked back the most but she's never screamed at Alcina like this before. The room is so silent you can hear a pin drop. Looking at her daughter, Alcina reaches out to put her hand on her arm.

"Cassandra,"

Cassandra's arm turns to flies and Alcina's hand goes straight through it.

"No, I don't want to hear it. I don't care. I'm so sick of this bullshit!" She shouts before swarming out of the room.

Alcina's hand covers her mouth as she sits there in shock. She begins to tremble as she tries with all of her strength to keep herself from breaking down in front of you and her daughters. No matter how hard she squeezes her eyes shut the tears begin to pour down her cheeks.

Bela and Daniela sit on the bed frozen. Cassandra was always the most like Alcina, their tempers practically mirroring one another, but this was the only time they've ever seen her scream at someone like that that wasn't a maid. They never thought they would ever see her flip out on either one of them like that, no less their mother.

Shaking her head trying to rid herself of the tears, Alcina grabs more gauze from the medical kit and replaces it with the blood-soaked gauze on your neck. She's trying to busy herself so she doesn't break down but her hands are trembling with every movement and her eyebrows are knit so closely they've practically become one.

"Bela," Alcina says with a shaking voice. "Do you think her chest wound will require stitches?"

Bela looks at her mother with confusion and worry for a moment before examining the cut Miranda gave you.

"No, I don't think so. It doesn't look deep. If it's taken care of properly it shouldn't scar too badly."

"Good. Bandage it up please."

"Mother,"

"Bela, please. Do it now." Alcina says as she barely holds on to her composure.

Bela makes quick work of the cut, applying an ointment to prevent infection - that stung like a bitch - and bandaging it up. As she tends to your wound Alcina is focused on your neck. She continues to check to see if the bleeding has stopped and it hasn't, although it has slowed. The longer Alcina looks at the wound she gave you, the harder it is for her to hold back.

"Okay, it's done."

"Thank you. That is all girls," she says as her voice shakes. "you may go."

Tears begin to roll down her cheeks and her breath trembles as she inhales.

"But mom-" Daniela says.

"No, go." The girls say nothing but don't move. The thin rope Alcina was clinging to snaps and a sob breaks out. "Just go!" She shouts as she waves them off.

With one hand still applying pressure to your neck, her other hand rests on your chest. Alcina folds forward, her head laying on top of her hand and the dam breaks. Her shoulders shake as she cries into you, Bela and Daniela exchange looks and they both move off of the bed. Both of them give their mothers arm a loving squeeze before they leave the room, shutting the door behind them.

Your hand finds the back of Alcina's head and you run your fingers through her hair as you try and comfort her.

"It's not your fault Alci, it's not your fault."

"Yes it is. I'm a monster."

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Resident Evil Village characters with a chubby fem s/o

Dating Headcanons (+ Some bonus drabbles for a few)

Including Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau and Mother Miranda

(Reader is somewhat coquette? Princesscore? Just the dainty feminine type)

Credits to dividers used are on this post.

Rules for requests

If you don't want to send requests through Tumblr, my Instagram is always an option.

Please interact with this post as much as possible, it helps a lot. Thank you <3

A/n: Hi lovelies, Lia here. I'm back after a long time. I hope you enjoy this post and I'll be setting up my schedule soon, I'll be posting once or twice every 1-2 week/s. If you can't tell, purple has always been my theme. I'll add more to these and edit it if I think of more to add. Any mistakes will be corrected upon checking.

This is just me but I love the concept of like a girl who is so sweet and her style just looks so fem and she's just surrounded by all the creepy things that are resident evil.

I'll be checking and if this post does well I will write more.

Warnings/Disclaimers: English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Blood, gore?, violence, typical resident evil stuff and mentions of insecurity. Slight suggestive content if you squint.

Alcina Dimitrescu

First of all despite your plush stature, she still treats you like a porcelain doll.

She just adores you so much (I mean she herself is tall and plus size).

Motherly nature and all, she has three daughters and honestly if she ever sees you interact with them. It would just warm her cadou infested heart.

Insecure about stretch marks? She'll kiss that shit away right then and there. She'll even show you hers because let's be honest here stretch marks are beautiful, you just don't like them on yourself.

Anyone insults or talks shit about you? She'll get rid of them, in any way possible depending on what they said. She'll pick a suitable punishment for them, ranges from "you're fired" to "I'm going to skin you alive and tear your heart out".

Alcina is a confident and dominant figure, she isn't swayed by something so small as beauty standards. Especially in herself, therefore I think she'd even help you build your confidence up.

Gifts galore with this woman, she love to spoil you with her riches. Loves to see you adorned with luxurious items that she give you.

Love dressing up with you, seeing you all dolled up for her. Has custom made clothes for you, sometimes opts for an outfit that matches or contrasts yours perfectly.

Knows what compliments your features best since she loves to bring them out.

Her hosting soirees and balls with you as her special guest, having you wear elegant dresses that she bought for you.

I see her as this almost touchy type. She'll love having you curl up on her lap while she gets paperwork done.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

You called Alcina's attention wanting to see her reaction to the new dress you bought, Alcina's eyes lit up at your elegance and charm. She smiled warmly, taking your hand in hers. "You look enchanting, my darling," she purred, proud to have you by her side.

Karl Heisenberg

Stinky metal dilf here actually loves that you're so soft in contrast to his gruff and abrasive nature.

He hasn't had physical affection in a long time so having someone soft and warm to hold is new to him.

Karl is naturally protective over you, especially because he thinks you're fragile. I mean compared to whatever's in the village, the rest of the lords and Mother Miranda.

I bet you this man has tore down someone for you, he chopped them off limb by limb for insulting you.

I can't get enough of the dynamic you'd have. It's like the grumpy x sunshine trope, this man has a sharp tongue. Especially when you hear him insult Lady Dimitrescu.

This man has a soft spot for you, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make him take a bath after being all sweaty from working with machinery all day.

I feel like he has scars all of his body, especially his very toned back.

Doesn't mind you leaving scratches when you're in the bedroom

Alcina sometimes tries to piss him off by commenting at the fact that you are soft and dainty while Karl is just the opposite and offers you an opportunity to be with "Someone refined" (She ain't wrong).

It really is just to get to Karl's nerves.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Karl smirked, trying to play it cool, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. "Not bad, princess," he teased, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly, "You're somethin' special, ya know?"

Donna Beneviento

You know Donna understands what it's like being insecure about looks but to her you're just perfect in every single way.

Donna just doesn't give a shit in a good way, she doesn't judge people based on their appearance. It's dumb and shallow.

Donna would absolutely adore making clothes for you or altering your current ones. It's a skill she's proud of and seeing you appreciate it makes her all the more in love with you.

Angie has made a few comments resulting in her getting kicked off into space but once Donna warms her about that and how you don't like it, she'll stop in respect towards you. Which is rare considering how Angie is.

Donna's personal style definitely helps contrast yours, though it's the opposite from your soft light colors.

Thinks you're so pretty, she's smitten. Even though yours are different from you, she still makes use of her skills to fit your clothing tastes.

I can just imagine her staring at you in awe as you spin around and show her how the dress she made fits you. I like to think she has your measurements memorized from head to toe.

She take one look at something and already know how it would fit on you or if she needs to alter.

You once asked her to make a doll that looks like the both of you (and Angie but like a smaller version that fits the doll's arms).

Donna entered your shared bedroom to find you but noticed something on the shelves. It was the dolls she made sitting against the book. She noticed how you positioned them. Holding hand while the tiny Angie replica was on the doll version of her's lap. Donna swore at that moment she was gonna melt.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Donna's expression softened as she saw you in the vintage lace dress. She held your hand, wordlessly conveying her affection and admiration.

Salvatore Moreau

God so help him, he was flabbergasted when he first heard about your insecurity. Literally why? Like you are just the most beautiful thing that walked the planet in his eyes.

He just worships the ground you walk on, he isn't as wealthy as the other lords but still, he give you his best efforts by carving you small trinkets out of wood.

Gifts you natural things he finds like crystals and whatnot.

Best of efforts when he comforts you. Sometimes he's too scared to physically touch you because he thinks he'll hurt you.

You're relationship is filled mostly by nature, despite the wasteland that surrounds your living area. It's hauntingly beautiful in it's own way. (Some of it I suppose)

Feels more at ease around you, think about how much he wanted to just make Mother Miranda proud of him, he's that with you but 10x more the effort.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Salvatore couldn't contain his delight at seeing you in the dress. "You're my beautiful water nymph princess!" he exclaimed, spinning you around with excitement.

Mother Miranda

You peeked her interest when she first saw you, I mean you're her complete opposite. She finds beauty in dark items and almost gothic stuff, so her taking an interest to you just made her even more curious.

She works a lot so gifts and trinkets to remind you of her are an occasional thing. I can just imagine you taming crows and she's just in awe.

Loyalty of crows means they leave you shiny trinkets and sometimes Miranda takes them for herself when she likes whatever they bring.

Again she's one to think you're fragile because of your style, you just look so cute and soft.

Nobody dares insult you, I mean if you really won the heart of Mother Miranda they are fucked if they even speak a little out of line.

Likes to keep you by her side despite working a lot. So you'd often be by her side during her meetings with the four lords and honestly you are such an eye candy.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Mother Miranda's composure remained regal, but her eyes showed approval. "You look exquisite" she acknowledged, holding your hand with reverence. To her, you were a jewel among mortals, deserving of admiration.

[issa-pheonyx]

Yandere!Lord DImitrescu&Sons X Fem!Reader🔪 [Part 4]

𝗜'𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗔𝗔𝗔𝗛𝗛𝗛-𝘀𝗼, 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗟𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗗𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗰𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀. 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗮𝘀𝘀, 𝗗𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗕𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻?👀😳 Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

Being locked in a luxurious bedroom still felt like a prison. There was no way you will be able to escape unless you're willing to jump out the window, however it was too high. You just laid on the bed staring at the ceiling-drained out of your mind, thinking of what other plan you can come up with. "Wait...when I screamed there was some sort of impact from it." Predicting back when his sons were almost devouring your state of fear and more they seem to be shifted off their feet from the scream. "Mom would give me medication for me to be always calm-not being loud and stuff. OR should I say Mother Miranda." Getting up you look around to see if there is something you can test on if your theory is correct

There was a glass chalice by a wooden desk amongst other stationary essentials as you move it in the middle, kneeling down, and clearing your throat. "Okay, lets see what happens." You took a deep breathe and slowly start to raise your voice. Once your voice starts to pitch it didn't sound like your normal scream it was some sort of siren like high key note. The chalice immediately breaks and the items on the desk start to fall off to the floor from the impact as you cover your mouth,"Oh god." Quickly, you pick them up and put them back in place. The doorknob shakes as if someone was trying to break in. The door breaks open revealing Cass, Benjamin, and Daniel looking terrifying with their sickles in hand like the first time meeting

"Who was it?" "You okay, sis?" "Are you hurt?" Cass checked around the room, Benjamin stood next to you leaning down your height making sure you have no injuries, and Daniel was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "You guys you need to chill...and stop saying sis!! I'm not your sister." You backed away from Benjamin going to the corner of the room,"And I'll never will be." They all freeze and slowly turn to look at you. 'Fuck, okay I'm dead.' They all burst out laughing, leaving you confused,"What's so funny?" You asked and they all turn to a herd of flies and back to normal as the three were towering you and cornering you

"You're just too cute to be our sis, ya know?" Benjamin says with a sweet smile on his face. "Cute sure...but, to eat-" Daniel elbows Cass,"Stop it! Then you complain why she's scared of you more." Cass just rolls his eyes,"Yeah, whatever, but isn't that what brothers do?" The two shake their heads. "Anyways, I think I will be her favorite brother~" Daniel puts an arm around your shoulder and squeezing the shit out you,"Urgh, stop it." You said,"Aw come on. Usually, everyone falls for me first!" He then messes with your hair making you growl,"Enough already." You shove him off as he giggles. Fixing your hair all of a sudden you were being lifted off your feet with a gushing Benjamin,"Awww man she is even adorable when she is angry like a little kitty~"

'This has to be a joke. They have to eat me eventually.' You just let it go and didn't want to budge off Benjamin's grip. "Boys!!" Lord Dimitrescu yells from downstairs as Benjamin puts you down,"Father is calling." Benjamin and Cass turn to flies as they left the room. Daniel being the last one to winks and says,"Don't worry, I'll let father know you're in no trouble with the door being broken, okay? You should get some sleep now." He closes the door and now you could leave, yet your eyes getting heavier tell you otherwise to get some rest and figure all of this out the next morning.

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

[ourdearkey]

《°Lord Alcino Dimitrescu/Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader|Motherly°》

"What are you doing?" Alcino asked narrowing his eyes, you scrunched your nose and presented him a fake smiled.

"None of your business, Casino."

"It's Alcino."

"I dont care."

Alcino's eye twitched as he growled under his breath, clenching his fists.

"I do not know why Brother Miriam even keeps you alive" he whispered loud enough for you to hear, humming you turned around again.

"Maybe because he loves me to much~" you slurred cooking the steak, Alcino rolled his eyes and walking away.

~~~

Alcino sat down on the dining table with Brother Miriam, as you served the foods.

"The food smells great my dear" Miriam said as you kissed his cheek, seating down next to him.

"Thank you" you said beginning to eat, Miriam and Alcino began to discuss whatever situation has been happening.

You wiped your mouth using a napkin, as you and the other two stood up a servant cleaning the table.

Alcino watched as you stood beside Miriam, flinching just a little bit as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

The both walked inside Miriam's office, you going to do who knows what.

~~~

"Is this really necessary?"

You asked Miriam rolling his eyes approaching you, as you nurse your infant child.

The Winters were dead, Rose died failing to be a vessel for Miriam's first born.

You shuddered at the memory, having the burden to carry his child for another 9 months, but it was worth it.

The child didn't look anything like their father, having your eyes and features.

"Ofcourse it is..." Miriam said lowly, pulling you with him towards the bed with your child.

"Don't you want to see him again?" He continued staring at you, making you unconsciously pull your child closer.

"He's dead Miriam...." you whispered making him growl, you stood up walking out of your quarters leaving your supposed lover, behind fuming.

His obsession on reincarnating your late son, was always on his mind, and even if your new light was born he was still, plotting for his sons return.

You sighed placing the child on it's crib, you rubbed his cheek smiling looking at it's peaceful form.

"It's not that I don't want your brother to be back..." you whispered, talking to the sleeping baby.

"It's just...that I'm sure it would cost him your life" you teared up wiping it away, "I can't lose you to..."

"Even if it's for him."

Behind the closed doors of the nursery, a certain Vampire resides leaning on the door.

Alcino listened to your humming, having to eavesdrop on to what you think about, the situation at hand.

He knew exactly how you felt, having 3 sons at home almost having them killed, by that blasted Winters.

He also knew that once you and Miriam's first son, gets reincarnated [Y/s/n] will surely die.

Being a vessel means that the soul of your newborn, will perish and the soul that was now occupying the body, will have complete control.

"Pitiful..." he said walking away quietly, to be fair when he first saw you he saw something so supreme in your eyes.

When Brother Miriam introduced you, he fell madly inlove after spending time with you for a few days.

He fell deeply when you healed one of his sons, showing your motherly side scolding Danielle while tending his wounds, it was a beautiful sight if he was being honest.

Brother Miriam will surely have his head on a silver platter, if he knew so he kept these feelings for himself, choosing to show it by being aggressive.

Your playfulness responding his passive aggressive advances was ebtertaining, but seeing you so sorrowful and vulnerable is not that surprising, seeing as to how Miriam treats you.

He used the phone Miriam provided, calling his supposedly sibling.

"Karla...." a hushed voice answered possibly greeting him.

"I would like to be a part of this plan of yours..."

***

You raised a brow at Moreau who offered to watch your child, it wasn't that you didn't trust him.

It was just so sudden, usually it was you who asks him to watch [Y/s/n] while you do something.

Evwn assuring him it was alright, you never trusted anyone else to watch your child, seeing as Moreau is more than capable of babysitting [Y/s/n].

You smiled softly at him muttering a soft thank you, before continuing onto your daily chores.

As you disappeared down the hall Karla and Alcino, emerged from the darkness making their presence know.

"Well done Moreau" Karla chuckled reaching out to grab [Y/s/n], only for Moreau to pull it away.

"Be gentle..." he muttered gently giving your child to Karla, she merely nodded and continued onto her work.

Alcino watched closely as Karla pricked your child on the arm, earning a loud cry from the child.

As the child wept Karla made sure to extract, almost enough blood for her weapon.

Stalking away from the crying child Moreau approached to calm it, only to be stopped when Alcino took the child cradling it.

The tall Vampire cleansed the wound making the infant slowly stop crying, it stared up at him with such innocent eyes, making him falter his movements.

The baby then reached and heldhis finger, Alcino abruptly handing them to Moreau, who in response stared at his leaving form.

Alcino rubbed the area where the infant touched him, feeling more motivation to save them from their terrible fate.

Meanwhile you were in yours and your husbands shared bedroom fixing your shared bed, with a blank expression.

Yoy felt his arms wrap around your waist, unconciously tensing up you stayed quiet.

Knowing what you needed to do, you leaned back not wanting to make the person angry, this made Miriam smirk watching your stiff form.

"My muse..." he whispered lowly, burying his nose on your hair making you shudder.

"Don't you have any other duties to fulfill?" You asked slowly tugging his arms away, he wrapped them back this time tighter.

"My duties for the day are all done" he said smiling.

Though his eyes held something darker, and you knew.

You knew fairly well what he wanted.

~~~

You stood up hearing someone outside the door, slipping into a robe.

Miriam was still sleeping being tired from your previous activities, you approached the door seeing Moreau, standing outside holding your son.

You gently took the sleeping infant from him, noticing a small wound on their arm.

"What happened?" You asked worriedly, Moreau scratched their arm apolagizing deeply.

"They accidentally pricked their arm by the bush..." you nodded slowly, nuzzling your nose against your son.

"Alright then..." you smiled back at him again, making him nod.

"Thank you for taking care of my child."

"Anytime Sister" he replied making you brighten up, in truth you and Moreau really did share a sibling bond.

Seeing Moreau as your younger brother, he was a gentle giant that's for sure.

You closed the door as Moreau left, opting to place your child inside a crib, that resided in the room.

You went inside the bathroom, wanting to take a bath to freshen up.

After showering you walked outside the bathroom, taking some clothes from the closet and changing.

You turned when you heard your child cry, freezing when you saw Miriam holding them.

"M...Miriam" you stuttered walking towards him, slowly reaching out to take [Y/s/n] from him.

He smiled at you choosing to place the child roughly back into the crib, making it cry louder.

"What's wrong love? I've held Eden before didn't I?" He asked blankly approaching you, you nodded slowly feeling him kiss your cheek, before walking in the bathroom.

Not wanting to stay any longer you slipped into some clothes, and took your leave with your infant child.

You sat in the garden clouds gathered in the sky, the cold breeze caressing your face.

"Fancy seeing you here" a deep voice spoke, making you turn and look.

Seeing Alcino standing there You smiled beckoning him to come, he obliged sitting on the bench beside you.

"The cold is somewhat calming isn't it?" You asked pulling your child closer, Alcino looked down for a moment taking in the sight before speaking.

"I would say yes but the cold also harms my sons."

You chuckled nodding the next few seconds, were about the two of you being quiet not knowing what to say.

"Your being awfully calm right now" you suddenly spoke making him blink.

"T...this is only a one time thing, do not expect me to be like this that much" he said cursing himself silently for stuttering, you laughed softly leaning on his arm.

"But I will..." you muttered shutting your eyes, Alcino smiled unknowingly choosing to let you be closing his eyes enjoing the calm tension.

~~~

You held your child closely as you watched Karla, basically kill Miriam opting to look away when your lovers head turn towards you.

His dead eyes looking at your form, making you breath heavily.

A hand was wrapped around your shivering form, as your head came in contact with someones chest.

Noticing their height you looked up seeing Alcino, kneeling down kissing your forehead.

"He's finally gone..." you muttered leaning in the Vampires touch, making him hum and pull you and your child closer.

[yoursweetdenial]

Miranda and the 4 Lords: *greet Y/N and tell her their names*

Y/N: I'm not good with names. *addressing Alcina* Uhmm... Can I call you mine?)))

Donna to Miranda: That was smooth