#Dimitrescu Tumblr posts

  • sylverstormz
    03.12.2021 - 31 minutes ago
    #daniela dimitrescu #if she had access to internet and technology
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  • uniquevocashark
    03.12.2021 - 47 minutes ago

    Alcina never warned you about how hungry you'd get.

    Surely, it was nothing short of a miracle that you'd mutated to a similar creature to her. The height increase was nice, as were the claws and the myriad of other extras that came along with it. But oh, how your stomach cramped and tightened with every minute between meals.

    When you told her about it; about how you'd dream of blood and how you'd wake up with its phantom taste in your mouth, how you'd dream of sinking your teeth through someone's spine and just swallowing every last drop of blood in someone's body.

    You felt hot all over and as you talked your stomach tightened again. It helped little that her blood bath was filled behind her and you just wanted to laze in her arms and drink every last drop of whatever she gave you.

    "My dearest," Alcina had chuckled, and unbuttoned the back of her dress, "You'll get use to it."

    "Its utterly unbearable." You pouted and she laughed fully, throwing her head back as her dress fell from her body.

    You pouted harder and she leaned down to kiss your mouth softly. "Come for a bath, darling."

    "I might drink it all." You said half jokingly, letting her pull you closer to it. You still had your clothes on and her, her heels and stockings and you moved, mesmerised by her eyes and her smile into the liquid you kept dreaming of.

    You looked away, guilty and she only laughed again, grabbing your hip and falling back into the blood with you.

    It soaked through your clothes, stained your hands and covered her gorgeously in what you considered her best colour: blood red.

    She sliced your shirt away with one finger and dipped the bloody digit into your mouth. Her other hand pulled you closer.

    "You'll survive," she murmured, "won't you, sweet thing?"

    #tw blood #this makes no sense lol #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu#suggestive ish
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  • uniquevocashark
    03.12.2021 - 1 hour ago

    You don't realise how poorly you sleep when Alcina isn't around.

    There are plenty of pillows, and the blankets are warm and soft and the bed is just soft enough for you to relax without sinking too deeply. You have water on your night stand, and you fall asleep after reading a new chapter in a book she recommended to you and there are enough candles around that you're sure Miranda isn't lurking in the corners anymore.

    But still, you sleep fitfully and while you've slept, you're not rested. You aren't sure how to describe it. You're hugging a pillow and the bed is warm and you could just languish there for hours without thinking. But its not complete; something so essential is missing but you can't describe exactly what. All you know is that she's the one that has it.

    The mornings go by much the same. You have the same meal every day, porridge with bananas and blueberries, and the silverware is well polished and the room is immaculately clean. You're daughters are happy too, and they chatter like they always do and you talk and joke and for a minute it feels right again.

    And then you go to your business for the day and you can't even finish half the paperwork because she's not home yet. Alcina doesn't know, but you work on her desk when she's not home. It's too big for you and you have to bring your own pens and paper and other accessories because all of hers are far too oversized for you. But it makes you feel a little better.

    It gets better by lunch, when one of her letters arrive and tell you of everything she's been up to. You mark the little phrases she uses, and trace each letter lovingly and you laugh and smile at all of her jokes. And you cherish each of her sign offs, and her post script notes that reaffirm her desire to hold you again as well and.

    The longing creeps up again and you pour it all into the letter you write back. You tell her of your children and how they've been doing, of how cold the days are getting. You tell her of the projects they've been doing, together and alone, and you spell lovingly every detail of a date you'd love to have with her when she gets back.

    A new one every letter and in every letter she promises and adds her own additions.

    The longer days make you miss her more.

    It's not like you don't have much to do. There's a lot to do and all of it reminds you of her.

    Getting ready for bed, you see her in every statue; every mirror reminds you of moments you admired her while she got ready for the day or had you pressed against one. Every wall you remember her pouty face as she agonised over the paint. While you slide into the blankets, the blankets you both picked, and you hold one of her pillows to your chest even though you've held it so many nights it only smells of you now and all you can remember is the feeling of her arms around you and her kisses to your neck and how warm and well you both fit together.

    You sleep fitfully again but soon.

    Soon she'll be home again.

    #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #yearning hours #god i just want to be in the same country as my girlfriend 😫
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  • words-etched-in-her-skin
    03.12.2021 - 1 hour ago
    #depravity answered#anonymous #resident evil village #lady alcina dimitrescu #yeahhhh #so many parts of alcina #spark that feeling 😩 #the sheer size of her tongue tho #fuuuuuck#😩😩😩😩😩#re8 askss
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  • words-etched-in-her-skin
    03.12.2021 - 2 hours ago
    #depravity answered#anonymous #resident evil village #lady alcina dimitrescu #soff alcinaaaaa #it would seriously be one of #the best feelings ever #djdhjsksksk#🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#re8 asks
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  • homoo-wan-kenobi
    03.12.2021 - 2 hours ago

    I know alcina is immortal, but what if there's a moment where she gets hurt and she's not healing. like she hasn't been getting enough blood and she's basically dying. but you don't know this. so while the both of you are resting, she just stops breathing in her sleep like her heart stops and everything. and you don't realise until you wake up and alcina's like ice cold and you can't feel her heart. and you spend like an hour or two trying to wake her up and you're screaming for her daughters. mother miranda. literally anybody. but nobody can do anything because it's too late. and she's just gone. forever.

    maybe I need to stop thinking and go to bed :/

    #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8
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  • homoo-wan-kenobi
    03.12.2021 - 3 hours ago

    imagine you and alcina always share a room but there's just that one night where she wants space. and you don't mind that so you go to your room that is adjacent to hers, albeit a bit reluctantly. and because you're so used to sleeping with alcina or being able to just go into her room when you can't sleep, you're surprised and bit saddened to find the door that connects the rooms locked. so you just kinda sit there and stare at the door, your palms on it as you rest your forehead on it. and a part of you thinks that alcina will feel your presence at the door and she'll unlock it then swoop you up in her arms and cuddle with you on her bed. but it never happens. so you do the next best thing and go to the girls rooms. they're all asleep, of course, but you wiggle your way into their sleep pile (they have separate beds, they just like cuddling together cause it gets cold sometimes 🥺) and they'll all happily make room for you to join. and when you wake up, you'll find yourself all alone in their room and that makes you sad cause alcina's always there when you wake up. ready to pepper your face in kisses, nuzzle your neck, and just squeezing you up against her cause you're so warm. so you spend most of the day moping in the library because you haven't seen alcina since she basically kicked you and locked you out of her room. but there's good news, you can sleep in alcina's bed again tonight... except she won't be there, that's the not so good news part. but just the smell of her on the bed is enough to keep you at ease while you sleep. and you'll get woken up lightly by alcina, her beautiful smile the first thing you see when you open your eyes. and she'll place a small box beside you. and when you open it, it's a pendant and a ring. boop, alcina is proposing to you and asking you to wear a pendant that'll show that your loyalty lies with house dimitrescu. and, of course, you accept. the end.

    #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8
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  • words-etched-in-her-skin
    03.12.2021 - 3 hours ago
    #depravity answered#anonymous #resident evil village #lady alcina dimitrescu #manthings beware castle dimitrescu #the countess is ready for you #😏#re8 asks
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  • dishwashingonmonday
    03.12.2021 - 4 hours ago

    wlll someone fucklng follow me not having followers on thls app ls lonely

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  • jetalveran
    03.12.2021 - 4 hours ago

    Blood on the Vine IX / ???

    Read From The Beginning! x Previous Chapter x Next Chapter

    Lady Bela brings her to the wing of the castle dedicated to entertainment and the arts. From the grand theater staging to the adjoining ballroom, to the ateliers up along the upper hallways, the wing is an homage to the joys of creative pursuits. Somewhere along the first floor is a direct route to the library, Isolde notes as she adds these corridors to her growing mental map of the Castle.

    Lady Bela diverts off the main hallway halfway down, lifting aside a tapestry depicting a summer’s festival of Nymphs and Fauns frolicking in the dappled greenery of the forest. Behind the heavy fabric is a vague outline of a door that Isolde notices only because she’s being ushered through the threshold as it opens with the softest of ‘clicks’.

    The hallway she steps into is much like the others, though with less obvious embellishment and finery to be shone off. Here, like the glass walkway up along the parapets, the space is personalized by the touch of the family that resides within it.

    "Cassandra's the artist of the family," Lady Bela explains, catching up to Isolde’s side as she’s caught up by a striking rendition of a stag hunt. After a beat, Lady Bela tilts her head and refines her statement; "Actually, anything that requires her hands is going to catch Cassandra’'s interest, now that I think on it... carving, metalworking, painting. Sculpture. She hates being idle."

    "A feeling I can understand quite well," Isolde murmurs as Lady Bela encourages them onward.

    "I've noticed.” Lady Bela says with just a touch of amusement. “It’s quite odd how Daniela took to you so well, considering that Daniela's a little more ... lackadaisical when it comes to her studies and pursuits— but she loves her plants."

    Isolde doesn't agree with Lady Bela's assessment concerning Daniela’s studies but knows this isn’t the time or place to even mention that. Isolde wonders, and not for the first time, how often Daniela’s had to deal with someone assuming her dedication and mistaking it for whimsy. IsSomeone who's just dabbling in botany isn't going to light up when they talk about it, after all.

    "What are your hobbies, Lady Bela?" Isolde redirects back to the eldest heiress as they walk, "Beyond debating moral philosophy and the ethics of dead theorists, of course.”

    Lady Bela hums as she thinks. "Truthfully, I don't really have the time for pastimes, but I enjoy music, history... riding, and hunting when the weather suits it and Mother has the time to spare." Lady Bela guides them down a turn in the hall, and gently stops Isolde with a touch to her shoulder as they cross underneath an archway inlaid with flower vines. Beyond, the corridor looks even more like a path into the more private affairs of the Dimitrescu family.

    Curious as to the sudden stop, Isolde turns to inquire what’s next when she notices Lady Bela tilting her head up, and inhaling with deep, steady breaths. She's scenting the air, Isolde realizes as the heiress’ pupils constrict when she lowers her chin.

    "Mmm, they're already here. That... changes a few things but they're not taking a meal— or,” Lady Bela scents the air again, frowning this time. “Perhaps they haven't started on one just yet?" Lady Bela's voice tinges rougher with annoyance.

    Something about that sentence bothers Isolde but she can't pinpoint exactly why.

    "Why would your Mother and Lady Daniela dine here?"

    "Privacy, as you'll come to find out eventually. This modern insistence that we open the castle and winery to the greater world has shifted a few of our traditions towards … more delicate, subtle affairs."

    That nagging sense grows stronger — and Isolde’s reminded of the calm right before Daniela's outburst when questioned about the body in her garden.

    Adele stirs at her collar, poking out and crawling to the edge of Isolde's shoulder. Isolde wouldn't have noticed her taking flight if not for the way the fabric shifted under Adele's feet.


    Isolde steps along as Lady Bela beckons her to, not drawing attention to Adele's departure. If the little drone had wanted to be known, she’d have done so— they buzzed loud enough to wake Isolde from a dead sleep.

    "It shouldn't require much, honestly. Once Dani's jealous and throwing her tantrum— I explain that though it’s admirable that Daniela wanted to try her hand at maintaining a staff again, you are a much better asset with my house; and that you've been settling in quite nicely with the Scarlet Staff. We just need to reiterate that it’s obviously clear that Daniela's not capable of taking care of a maiden — and Mother will adjust things as needed."

    “Why would Daniela be upset?” Isolde doesn’t follow Lady Bela’s logic at all. “She made her thoughts very clear already and she hasn’t called, summoned, or required anything of me for the past two weeks. She’d probably be more annoyed that I’m making this a formality to fuss over."

    "She hasn't noticed you missing," Lady Bela corrects as if Isolde’s missed a critical piece of the puzzle. Isolde opens her mouth to argue that, but decides against it. It… well, that makes sense, she supposes, and that’s no issue. It’s fine, really. It is, but it also stings just enough that her acknowledging noise catches Lady Bela's attention.

    Lady Bela steps back underneath the archway, her smile soft and assuring as ever. If it weren’t for the unsettling knot at the base of Isolde’s spine, perhaps she’d take that comforting expression at face value...

    But something about the angle of the electrical lighting makes it obvious that Lady Bela's eyes aren't quite reflecting the gentleness of the smile she’s gracing Isolde with. No, instead of a gentle crinkling, Lady Bela’s eyes are a cold, glittering gold— gleaming too-bright to be anything but the eyes of a predator.

    That unsettling knot turns into a painful squeeze. The instinct to run is an electric burn through her nervous system. The knowledge that running trips the predator to chase is the only thing keeping Isolde’s feet planted.

    Lady Bela speaks as if she’s explaining a simple concept. There’s an air of patronizing sympathy as she lightly clasps her hands in front of her. "I’m sure you’ve noticed that Daniela comes across a little more… whimsical than myself or Cassandra. There’s a reason for that— she was changed… at a younger age, though we awoke together. She has a difficult time remembering that the women in our employ are not dolls. Though I don’t like it, Mother indulges Daniela’s role as the ‘youngest’ and dotes on her to the point of letting Daniela's... antics slide. All we're going to do, Miss Ardenlane, is just reinforce Daniela's mismanagement of her resources. That's all."

    Isolde hesitates. It's long enough that Lady Bela's smile fractures a bit.

    "You want justice, don't you?" Lady Bela asks, and her smile slips further. "See the women who destroyed your room, led you into a trap, disrupted your routine here— you want them to receive their comeuppance?"

    "Truth of the matter, Lady Bela? I'd rather them just leave me alone."

    "Well, that isn't what we agreed on." Lady Bela's circling Isolde to the left, and as Isolde adjusts to keep the woman in her line of sight she notices— far too late— that the blonde heiress is now between her and the only known exit. If Isolde bolts, she’s going to be running blind.

    Isolde tries her best not to bolt. Lady Bela’s reasonable; as long as Isolde presents her case correctly, this can be solved. "No, it isn’t. What we did agree to, Lady Bela, was to maintain my contract— which you assured me would be honored should I be brought under your employ. Revenge was never part of that conversation, or any conversation following it."

    Lady Bela's smile is gone; replaced with an intense stare that Isolde’s seen in the pictures of glossy magazines where the photographer captured the gaze of a lion, or a shark. She’d always found them captivating. Now, she finds it terrifying.

    Lady Bela’s eyes dart down to Isolde’s neckline the moment Isolde’s heartrate quickens. Could she hear it? She steps forward.

    Isolde steps back.

    "Something the matter, Miss Ardenlane?"

    Isolde shakes her head, even as she assumes that her heartrate is giving her away. They partake in a strange dance as Lady Bela steps towards her and Isolde steps away.

    "No?" Lady Bela's head tilts. Daniela did so just before she struck too. Isolde braces for the cutting jab, the slice of words that'll cut her off at the knees just when she's finding her footing again.

    "Are you certain?" Lady Bela steps forward again. Her lips twitch when Isolde stumbles, her foot catching on the runner— and it's Lady Bela's reflexes that keep her from falling back. "Careful now, we wouldn't want you to be hurt." Lady Bela’s hands steady Isolde by the shoulders. She’s close enough that her perfume tickles every breath Isolde takes. Her hair falls forward, brushing Isolde’s skin as she straightens her upright again.

    "I am not going to embarrass Lady Daniela for revenge." Isolde states, as calmly as she can with her heart threatening to leap out of her throat.

    "Whyever not?"

    Lady Bela's grip tightens past the point of discomfort about her shoulders. Isolde can't step back any further if she tries. Not without wrenching her arms.

    "Lady Bela, you're hurting me."

    Lady Bela clucks her tongue. "I'm simply keeping you upright while you listen very carefully to what I have to say next. I was insulted once when Daniela thieved you away like the fox she is and I will not allow your simplistic morality to insult me a second time. So, this is what is going to happen, mm?” Her thumbs press firmly into the top of Isolde’s clavicle, causing Isolde to wince. “You are going to assist me in agitating Daniela. We are going to instigate such a frenzy that Mother will intervene, and you are going to do this without complaint. Afterwards, when you are properly restored to my house and to my service we will address your ... view of the world."

    Lady Bela's grip is steel without effort. Her gaze is intense— cold and calculating; though a victorious smirk lifts her mouth in a way that chills Isolde's blood. The calm, collected energy of Lady Bela is so different from the wild, impulsive mania of her younger sister that Isolde lapsed in her daily reminders that each of the heiresses are likely just as dangerous as their sisters— and Lady Bela being the eldest? Well, Isolde should have kept in mind that she'd be the most dangerous of them all.

    "Now, back to what we were discussing, mm?" Lady Bela's fingers flex light along Isolde's shoulders; as if they're sharing a friendly pep-talk rather than the terrifying encounter it's become. "I— "

    "— have replaced Bela with an imposter because I know I'm not seeing my dearest, oldest, most-behaved sister threatening Dani's only retainer."

    Lady Cassandra's voice drawls along the edge of boredom. She strides down from the way they arrived and as she nears, Isolde's eyes catch on the singular large emerald and copper fly pacing along the broad expanse of the brunette's shoulder, wings out and body trembling from agitated, alarmed vibrations.

    Adele? Thank you, thank you...

    "What do you want, Cassandra?" Lady Bela's tone is as drawn out and bored as her sister's. She doesn't look at the woman's approach, preferring to keep Isolde pinned beneath her gaze.

    "Aww, not happy to see me?” Lady Cassandra simpers, and giggles when Lady Bela turns a scowl on her. “Oh, relax, Bela. Dani's been droning on and on and on about the latest sweets she's ordered from Paris and seeing as you've been occupying her retainer for the past week or so, I'm the one who got stuck with reminding her to meet the Duke to pay for said sweets… so I can then steal one — see what the fuss is about."

    "Miss Ardenlane does not work for Daniela any longer."

    "Really?" Lady Cassandra's brows arch and the first inflection of interest stirs in her tone. "Does Dani know? Oh, even better— does Mother know? That you poached Dani's maid, I mean." Lady Cassandra drapes an arm about Lady Bela's shoulders, and grins as if her birthday has come early. "If she doesn't... May I please be there when you tell her you've misbehaved? I haven't seen you punished in forever..."

    "I did not poach— get off me, Cassa!" Lady Bela wrenches her shoulders back in an attempt to knock Lady Cassandra away. It doesn't work. Rather, it encourages the brunette to adjust her stance to better bother her elder sister with overt touching and needling.

    "And now we're lying! Oooh, this really is going to be fun!"

    Isolde does not feel better when Lady Bela's gaze snaps over to her sister. After all, Lady Bela’s still holding onto her, and her frustration with Lady Cassandra’s heckling is anchored in the crushing flex of her hands on Isolde’s shoulders. Isolde must make a noise.

    Two pairs of golden eyes latch onto her pain.

    Isolde’s no longer thanking Adele.

    Isolde needs to get Lady Bela’s hands off before something (her) breaks.

    "Lady Bela's not lying, Lady Cassandra."

    Lady Cassandra's brow manages to climb higher. "Oh?"

    "I'm not working for Lady Daniela. I ... we had a disagreement and she saw fit to dismiss me from any required duties for the time being."

    “You’re not?” Lady Cassandra’s attention catches on Adele’s short flight from her shoulder back to Isolde’s, and she tracks as the fly marches up to Lady Bela’s hand and starts slapping it with her forefeet.

    As Adele buzzes a territorial warning, Lady Cassandra's gaze grows curious. "Huh." She looks Isolde over, then turns back to Lady Bela. "Whatever— Dani goes through moods. You’ll get used to them. Now— back to Bela's rebellious streak— " she breaks off into laughter as Lady Bela turns to properly try and swat her off.

    Isolde takes the opening to stumble back, gain space, catch her breath. Lady Bela realizes her mistake because she’s whirling back on Isolde — before being tugged backward against Lady Cassandra as the brunette locks her in place by curving her arms about Lady Bela’s waist, and around her shoulders.

    It's an intimate embrace, and one Lady Bela struggles to break free from. “Cassandra! Let go of me, now!”

    "Oh, let the little rabbit run off, Bells." Lady Cassandra’s voice is light, and her amusement dances undertone, but the eye contact she’s locked Isolde in is razor-sharp and focused. Her lips brush against Lady Bela’s ear even as she flicks her gaze hard to the right. “It’s obvious you’ve frightened her, and too much more excitement and we’ll be watching as Mother reprimands you for scaring her to death.”

    The hidden meaning is clear enough.

    Leave. Now. Before you can’t.

    Isolde doesn't disobey. She rushes back through the corridor, through the non-descript door, and out into the echoing art wing. She lifts a hand, ignoring the tremors, and brushes her fingers over Adele's thorax. "Thank you," she whispers.

    Adele shimmies in reply.

    Isolde doesn't break contact as she hurries back to the upper floors and the relative safety of numbers.

    🌹— — —🌹

    The allure of Lady Bela’s attention disappears as quickly as it had arrived. For the rest of that evening, Isolde shuts herself away and doesn’t see or hear from any of the heiresses. The same goes for the night after that, and the night after that.

    The bruises, however, grow uglier as the extent of Lady Bela’s grip, accidental or not, blooms into a mottling of green, purple, and sickly yellow. Even though the castle’s kept at a balmy temperature, Isolde takes to rotating out two pairs of turtlenecks to prevent any unfortunate inquiries.

    Lady Bela summons her on the fourth night, and Isolde declines it on the pretense of being ill. Isolde waits out the consequences of that choice, falling asleep far later than she’d like and waking up feeling that the lack of a response is more concerning than if she’d received one.

    The next night, Lady Bela summons her again. And again, Isolde declines it. She stares at the bruises in the mirror while Adele, Rasa, and Yhaara look on in concern.

    Lady Bela shows up on the fifth night, though does not invade Isolde’s room.

    Isolde keeps her eyes shut as she puts the bed between her and the door, slipping down to sit on the floor — hoping that should Lady Bela decide to lunge in, there’s just enough obstacle that Isolde can risk a dart under the bed and past her.

    “I don’t want to see her,” she admits to the three drones. “I don’t— I can’t— not yet.”

    The three drones fall quiet, almost still.

    Lady Bela sounds remorseful, apologetic and sincere as she asks to explain her actions, and to make up for how she behaved. Isolde can easily picture the doe-eyed expression, the shy tilt of Lady Bela’s chin, and the pixish pout.

    Isolde can easily picture the shark-dark chill of her gaze, the stiffness in her lips as the smile doesn’t quite break genuine. She can feel the dig of Lady Bela’s thumbs against her chest, the flat pressure of the wall behind her, the lack of options to leave— to run— to breathe without being crushed— “Miss Ardenla— what do you want?” That’s… not directed at her. Isolde’s head lifts up off her knees as Lady Bela turns to meet with someone else outside her door.

    It’s a surprise that steals her thoughts away when Daniela’s voice drifts underneath the door. “Bela, you promised you’d teach me the harp.”

    “Daniela, not right now. I’m trying—” “To get germed on? Like, ew? I saw Isolde earlier today and she looked like the plague. I meaaaaaan, if you want to deal with sneezy, fever grossness, you can or— you can hang out with me and not be risking utter ew.”

    Isolde blinks. That’s… no. One of the interesting perks of the little trio of flies is that they seemed to have a constant awareness of where Daniela always was and therefore, that meant Isolde could avoid an awkward confrontation.

    Much like she used Lady Bela’s daily schedule as a guideline to avoid the probability of running into her.

    The voices outside her door disappear. Isolde relaxes— she’ll have to speak with Lady Bela soon, but not that night. She lifts up the three little flies to eye level and leans her head forward to gently offer each of them affectionate forehead touches. “Thank you.” Though, as she sets the three back into their cubby, she ponders the notion that she’s not just speaking to three isolated drones— and that she might not have ever been.

    Bolstered by the timely intervention, Isolde starts to venture out and involve herself with the Pride she's been brought into. Miss Fields is thrilled the next evening when Isolde takes her up on the invitation to play cards.

    The Pride are all easy going women, pleasant to get along with, and whatever complications might have been born from Lady Bela's hand being revealed hasn’t yet filtered through the upper echelons of the Scarlet Staff… or Lady Bela hasn’t decided to pass punishment down, yet. Even as days pass, Isolde’s lack of responsibilities broaches no questions or side-looks; not even as she still wears the emerald signifier of her status.

    Miss Fields explains it one night as Isolde assists her with rearranging the communal space for the upcoming winter festivities.

    "The Pride and Pack might be at odds but we're women bound by a simple common fact: we've peeked behind the curtain, and decided we didn’t mind what we found there. I’m sure you’ve realized by now that the Ladies Dimitrescues require women like us, who know a little about what they might be and… don’t shun them for it. And to be honest? I think people like us need people like the Ladies as well.”

    Isolde wrinkles her nose but glances down to her shoulder. Now that Rasa and Yhaara have recovered enough to endure a rogue draft in the castle, the three had yet to leave Isolde's side.

    "What did you see behind the curtain?"

    "Brutality." Miss Fields states simply enough. "My start in life was… rough. I learned what needed to be done in order to survive and the Ladies Dimitrescus understood that." Her gaze catches Isolde's over the table. She doesn't ask for it, though.

    Isolde answers on another night, while they while away the early hours with a serving of hot cider between them.

    "Belonging." Isolde thinks of the drones, and the weeks spent with Daniela and Lady Bela— the exhilaration as she explores more and more of this strange new world; and how every teasing hints to the truth of the heiresses and to this place draws her further in.

    "Oh yes." Miss Fields nods as if she quite understands. Isolde believes she just might.

    "I thought about leaving before Lady Bela suggested ... this arrangement," Isolde admits after putting another log onto the fire. Not for the first time, she notes that despite the discussion of the winter festivities, she doesn't see any of the garlands or expected secular decorations that she’d come to expect when celebrating this time of year away from home and family.

    A pang of homesickness steals her next breath and she disguises it by pushing on with the conversation before Miss Fields, or the three little drones could notice. They've become uncannily aware of her moods, often before Isolde herself realized there’d been a shift at all.

    "Understandable, what with what's going on with you," Miss Fields is, unsurprisingly, unflappable when it comes to the details that Isolde's comfortable sharing with the older woman. "You've got two of the three most dangerous women I've ever known interested in your attention and I'm sure you're aware that with one of the Heiresses... eventually the others follow."

    "I'm slowly picking that up, yes." Isolde admits with a wry chuckle.

    "Which means you're likely aware that if you do decide to leave... you'd be hunted down before you could leave the village proper." Miss Fields keeps both her gaze and her voice steady as she brings that up. There's sympathy in her eyes, a sort of comradery that comes with exposure to the unknown, but Isolde isn't naïve enough to believe that their short-lived friendliness would outweigh whatever held Miss Field's loyalty to the family.

    Isolde nods.

    Miss Fields returns it before she reaches to pat Isolde's hand as comfortingly as one can after that sort of conversational piece. "You've only got, what, half a year left on your contract? I'm sure if you can last until then, your exit interview can come with some concessions that'll make sure you and whoever you're staying here for will be comfortable for a very long time."

    That pricks Isolde's interest. Not that Miss Fields knew about her family— but that Miss Fields had been in (or still is?) the same predicament as Isolde.

    "Did you make it to your exit interview?" It's a bold question.

    Miss Fields awards it with a knowing grin and a respectful tilt of her chin. "Oh, I did. Perhaps I'll tell you about it when you manage to survive yours." She pats Isolde's hand again before rising.

    “Now, I need to make sure the Midnight Meal's done right for tomorrow. Both of the Countesses will be home for once and our Lady Dimitrescu is particular about everything being perfect for her Lady of Thorns."

    "Of course." Isolde rises as well, ever-polite. "I'll speak with you later?"

    "You will; even if only because you're the only lass who listens to me ramble." Miss Fields smiles a final time, pausing only when Isolde calls her name.

    "Is The Duke still here?"

    "I would think so. He oversees the transport arrangement for the girls who don't want to Winter here... or shouldn't Winter here."

    "I see. Thank you, Miss Fields."

    Isolde lingers by the fire for a little while longer after Miss Fields' steps stop echoing down the halls. Without curious eyes, she gently nudges Adele from her spot underneath Isolde's collar and smiles when the drone offers a sleepy greeting. "We still have that surprise for your Swarm to get. It should be in by now."

    Adele's wings flutter in excitement.

    🌹 — — — 🌹

    Holding Court in the lower grand foyer near the Carriage Gate, The Duke manages to be at once discreet and flamboyant about his presence and arrangement within Castle Dimitrescu, and there's something otherworldly about the bizarre blend of flea market, bazaar, and caravanserai.

    One of the peculiar traits, but one that Isolde quickly learned to admire, is The Duke’s strange ability to have any desired item on hand, or within reasonable purchase time after receiving a request for it. Such as the items Isolde currently tucks away in her bag as she hands over the last of the leii.

    "Always a pleasure, Miss Ardenlane." The Duke smiles as he oversees the transfer of money between her and a quiet, dark-haired apprentice. "Shall I make arrangements to have a letter delivered for you as well?"

    "Not this time," Isolde murmurs. The question gives her pause: when had she written home last? "Actually... When do you set out again, Duke?"

    The Duke taps his fingers along the edge of an oak chest. "The end of the work week, Miss Ardenlane. Two days from now, and no later I'm afraid. Not with the Passes as they are."

    "That'll be more than enough time, thank you."

    The Duke dips his head but Isolde catches the moment his eyes flicker up to something behind her. Or someone, for that matter, as the door chime goes off a moment after.

    It's a little emboldening to see that Daniela is just as startled when Isolde turns about. A small spark of petty vindication as the flame-haired heiress reels like a cat spooked by it’s own shadow.

    "Isolde?" Daniela sounds surprised at first, then it smooths to haughty indifference. "Are you stalking me now?"

    Isolde rolls her eyes. Despite everything else, some measure of Daniela's terrifying nature had left after their conversation in the bathroom; even with the recent... developments. Not to mention, Isolde's growing a little tired of the emotional see-saw, and she’s already dealing with enough trouble trying to compartmentalize Lady Bela’s likely murderous tendencies. "Yes, Lady Daniela. It’s a relief that you’ve finally noticed. I missed you terribly— though I have to admit that Lady Bela's company helps to soothe the jagged wound you ripped out of my heart."

    It's an exaggeration, sure, and a jab at Daniela's melodramatic tendencies— but Isolde finds that she's not lying, exactly. She does miss Daniela— or if she’s being honest with herself: she misses the easygoing conversations and optimistic outlook the heiresses has. She misses working in the Greenhouse alongside Daniela, laughing at the (retrospectively, true) stories unfurling in the insect-world, and learning second-hand about the stranger facts about the plant life around them.

    And sure, before Lady Bela decided to turn Isolde into the mouse inside a cat-and-mouse hunt— Isolde had found some comfort in the eldest heiresses' calm, measured outlook on everything.

    But Daniela doesn't need to know that.

    When Daniela doesn't answer right away, Isolde takes that as her cue to leave. She's passing by the statue of the Angel of Joy when she hears the click of heels behind her.

    "I'm doing this for your own good, you know!" Daniela calls after her, uncaring that there's an audience in regards to The Duke's workers, not to mention the various layers of the Castle Staff nearby as well. Isolde’s steps staccato as she processes what Daniela's saying.

    It should tell her something when Adele's buzzing comes across as a warning to let it slide. She should listen to that as well as the warning bell going off in her ears and yet—

    "Are you kidding me?" Isolde stops, turns about. Her bag jostles against her hip with the motion. "That's what you're going to open with? Seriously?"

    Adele buzzes again, and it almost sounds like the little drone is cringing.

    Daniela doesn't stop until there's barely any space between them and right, Isolde's forgotten that none of the heiresses understand anything about personal space. It has to be a Swarm... thing. That doesn't mean she's as comfortable with the lack of boundaries, though, and brings up a hand to stop Daniela before they’re practically fused.

    Daniela's tone is low and dangerously-close to a snarl when she speaks. "Bela is a Dionaea Muscipula and you are a very, very silly fly who's about to get herself snapped up if you think for a moment that she's not using you—"

    "I'm well aware of that. I learned—" Isolde stops herself, bites back the cutting words she wants to say. She'd meant what she'd said to Lady Bela, damn it.

    Adele chimes in with a loud, fierce noise that breaks both of their gazes down to her pacing, and that draws Isolde's attention back to something Lady Bela said previously.

    "What's stopping the trio from rejoining their swarm, Daniela?"

    Daniela's golden gaze breaks from Adele, and back to Isolde's. She's so close, barely an inch away. Isolde doesn’t back away, though. "What?"

    "The drones. Lady Bela said they don't want to rejoin the swarm but that's not all there is to it... am I right?”

    It’s a literal lob in the dark but it hits the mark as cleanly as if Isolde's aimed for it.

    Daniela's pupils widen and she takes a step back, then another as if she's realized how close they are. The measured distancing is... new but Isolde doesn't comment aloud on it.

    Isolde raises a brow, waiting for an explanation or excuse. Anything, really. When none arrives, she dips her head in a nod. "I see. Well, then, begging your leave, Lady Daniela—"

    Isolde is past the statues when Daniela remembers that she has the ability to speak. "Wha-hey! I didn't dismiss you!"

    Well aware of the eyes on them, Isolde considers her answer carefully as she turns to meet Daniela's frown with one of her own. "Didn't you?"

    🌹 — — — 🌹

    The next night proceeds much like the ones before it. A subtle distancing of Lady Bela's scheduled haunts, a deliberate avoidance of Daniela's preferred habitats, and a growing sense of restlessness that Isolde can't seem to shake.

    However, after the confrontation with Daniela, tonight’s trip is a solo affair as Isolde’s left Adele with the other two drones. Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well, and Isolde’s half-surprised that Daniela hadn’t arrived to see what the hell caused Adele so much distress.

    Though Isolde's suspicion that Daniela is likely already aware of the reason for the distress, and has likely been aware of her drones antics, whereabouts, and Isolde’s interactions since she returned to the castle solidifies when there is no frantic heiress swarming at her door and demanding answers.

    If pressed, Isolde can't explain where the theory came from— only Lady Bela's commentary as she observed Adele stuck with Isolde after that disastrous encounter.

    Another difference is that tonight, Isolde is on the hunt for one of the heiresses to seek out answers, though her quarry is neither the blonde heir apparent or the darling red haired lady. Her target is the curiously-disengaged huntress, and the heiress that Isolde suspects is least likely to enjoy mental gymnastics and mind games.

    It's not hard to discover where Lady Cassadra might be. Just by overhearing the cleaning staff at work narrows down the likely areas that Isolde would not find the huntress— which narrowed down the wings where one might find a malicious brunette.

    Her destination blazes with heat and light. A solitary workshop on the ground floor of a shuttered wing, closest to a wall of wide, floor-to-ceiling pane windows that allow the open wooden floors to soak in sunlight during the day.

    She doesn't bother knocking, though it would be polite. Likely, Lady Cassandra’s heard her arrival and if she’s not wanted, there’d have been signs to warn her away. Instead, Isolde leans against the wooden frame, watching as Lady Cassandra straightens up after setting a long, metal rod into a furnace. The heat is so intense that Isolde can feel it from at least four meters away.

    When she doesn’t enter, waiting for actual permission before breaching that barrier, Lady Cassandra chuckles.

    "What's wrong, afraid of a little heat?"

    And there’s her permission. Isolde scans the space as she walks in, picking up the various tools and machinery that confirm Lady Bela's observations that Lady Cassandra preferred hands-on work to keep busy.

    The space is professional and minimalist, free of extraneous items that could risk an accidental bump or spill. There’s signs of a variety of crafting, from metalworking to ceramic to glassblowing— as Isolde spots a marver pulled out near to the furnace, the brass surface worn with years of use.

    “Well, next time I have to fix up a broken window, I’ll be able to skip the overpriced middle man.”

    "Yeah, I saw what you did with the windows in Dani's garden. Decent work— if a bit rushed.”

    “It was a choice between practical insulation or making the design pretty.”

    “Oh, I don't blame you. I've been on Dani for the last few years to let me at that section and I’m surprised it lasted this long without a touch-up."

    "What stopped you?" Isolde spots an extra pair of thick, tooled gloves. They're a little big, but they'll do it in a pinch. She slips them on and comes over to lean her hip against the marver's edge.

    "Apparently the wasps there have issued a decree that I'm not allowed within flight radius of their territories and Dani's adamant on 'preserving the peace' or something like that...?" Lady Cassandra trails off in question as she turns and sees Isolde even closer, with gloves on.

    "Like you said, you saw my work on the windows. My father's a bit of a jack of all trades. He's also the village's farrier too if that helps."

    "... huh.” Lady Cassandra rolls a shoulder. “Well, all right, I'll have you roll, then."

    Isolde nods and for the next half-hour or so, she falls into the meditative ease that came from being first assistant as Lady Cassandra works a molten slab from an amorphous blob to the beginnings of what’s going to become a rather intricate glass decanter.

    It's only after Lady Cassandra closes the annealing oven door that she addresses Isolde's likely reason for being there.

    "Would you be satisfied if I killed them?" Lady Cassandra inquires, pulling off her gloves and making a face at the sweat and grime at her forearms where they stopped. She takes a detour to a basin of clear water and scrubs it away, leaving her forearms wet, but clean. Isolde follows suit.

    "No." Isolde says, surprising herself with how simple the answer is.

    "Are you sure? I might choose for the most vicious of the maidens but even I can understand when a hound needs to be put down for the greater benefit.”

    "I'm certain I'm sure."

    "Suit yourself. The offer stands regardless." Lady Cassandra gestures for them to move into an adjoining space likely heated from the furnace in the workshop. "Hungry?"


    The smaller room isn’t likely to be Lady Cassandra's personal quarters but there’s a resonance there that echoes the woman’s preferences and mannerisms. Much like Lady Bela's chambers, there's an expanse of open glass that Isolde wouldn't expect from women who were overly sensitive to the cold, but it’s tempered by a raging, overlarge fireplace that drives the cold to the corners of the room.

    The wall behind Lady Cassandra as she approaches a low cabinet has an array of weapons, likely personally designed to the daughters hands if their size says anything about the intended wielders. There's also paintings in several stages of completion, and in the corner Isolde sees something stored underneath a white sheet— the dusting of stone on the floor around it giving away that whatever's hidden away is a sculpture of some sort.

    "I noticed you ditched the guard drones," Lady Cassandra comments as she pours herself a glass of the Dimitrescu's special reserve wine. For Isolde, she hands over something that’s as smooth and amber as whiskey. For the both of them, a platter of bread, cheeses, and meats arrive not too long after Lady Cassandra suggested a meal.

    Isolde nurses her drink, feeling her cheeks warmed by the alcohol as well as the fire. "If Daniela wants to know what we talked about, she can ask me whenever she's ready to have an actual conversation. Otherwise, I don't care."

    Lady Cassandra's chuckle fades but the grin remains there. "Oh, the little rabbit’s finally learning she has claws? It's about time."

    "I didn't realize you were... invested, I suppose?"

    Lady Cassandra's aurelian gaze balances the intensity of Lady Bela's and the wildness of Daniela's, and the result somehow makes hers the hardest to keep eye contact with. "I am always invested when it comes to my family. I'm even more invested when Daniela's involved."

    Isolde nods.

    Lady Cassandra watches her for another moment, nails tapping on the edge of her glass. "Answer a question for me: you didn't go along with Bela's plan earlier, why?"

    "I'll repeat to you what I told her. Reve— "

    Lady Cassandra rolls her eyes and waves Isolde silent. "No, uh— no. See, I don't want to know what you told her, I want to know why you didn't go along with it. Bela's not exactly sunshine and sweetness when she's told no."

    "I just don't work that way, Lady Cassandra. I'm ... " Isolde takes the time to collect her thoughts. "I don't understand what happened to snap Daniela from friendly to... callous but that doesn't mean I'm going to match her at that level for someone else's gain."

    "I don't think you're understanding my question. I know Romanian isn't your first language, so... allow me to rephrase it."

    Cassandra leans forward, eyes bright. She's enjoying this. It’s a taunt, a blatantly baited trap. "You could have done anything and been practically untouchable afterwards. I don’t care what color’s in your hair— Bela's favor is practically gold bullion for the staff and sure, Dani would have been crushed and—"

    "Yeah, I might be new to the ... 'My Employer is a Swarm of Human-Devouring Flies' business but I like Daniela—”

    "Oh? You like Daniela, do you...?"

    Isolde's glower only makes Lady Cassandra grin even wider.

    "What made you step in, anyways?" Isolde grumbles, leaning back with her drink cradled between her hands.

    Lady Cassandra's grin disappears and she matches Isolde's slouch. "I didn't step in for you if that's what you're trying to weasel at."

    "Oh, no, Lady Cassandra. I wouldn't dream of such a thing." Isolde takes a sip, savoring the whiskey. "Thank you, by the way, for helping me when I was in the catacombs."

    "What?" Lady Cassandra's eyes snap back to hers. "I didn't—"

    "If the three little ladies currently pouting in their hiding hole are essentially Daniela regardless of direct contact or not... then the little gold-dusted lady who helped keep me calm and escorted me back must have been—"

    "That's different. You were Dani's only retainer and had you died because of that little stunt I would have never heard the end of it. I'd have had to cull my entire staff to make up for it!"

    "So... it was different when you intervened with Lady Bela in the hallway, I suppose?”

    Lady Cassandra pauses, mouth dropping slightly ajar. Like Isolde, she recognizes the trap and the bait. Perhaps more than Isolde, she seems to appreciate the turnabout. "Clever little rabbit, aren't you?"

    "I have my moments."

    "Mmm." Lady Cassandra's gaze shifts calculating as she reevaluates the woman in front of her.

    "So, what was different, exactly?"

    "Look, I might find your disobedience with Bela hilarious but I'm still —"

    "Oh, I am well aware of the fact that you're quite capable of hurting me should —"

    "I’m sorry? Should?" Lady Cassandra leans forward, eyes wide with indignation. “Should?”

    Isolde presses on. Lady Cassandra is unnerving but she's the third in a line of threats, and this time there's neither hands on her nor a blade in sight. That, and the whiskey’s a solid buffer against Isolde’s better judgement.

    "Should you feel the need to do so." Isolde finishes without missing a beat.

    "What makes you so sure I don't feel the need to right now?" Lady Cassandra's head tilts to the side, and her voice angles with it. It’s a lilting sing-song and disturbingly childlike for the woman seated across from Isolde.

    Isolde takes another drink. Steadies her voice, though she can’t help the edge of a smile from coming through. "I don't think you're the type to feed and water a woman before you torture her."

    Lady Cassandra smirks. "I could have drugged the tea."

    "And risk losing out on my reactions if you were going to strike me?"

    "It could be short-acting, just long enough to bind you so you don't fight back."

    "That circles back to 'and risk missing out on my reaction?'"

    Lady Cassandra's chuckles. It's a smooth, velvet noise that settles Isolde's nerves. She'd been bluffing, guessing along the lines of 'the maidens match the mistress'.

    She'd chosen correctly.

    "How upset do you think Bela would get if I told her that I'm considering you for my Pack?"

    "Terribly so, and no."

    Lady Cassandra shrugs. "Figured I'd ask."

    They fall into a surprisingly companionable silence after that, and then when the small meal is finished and the castle bells chime for Lady Cassandra to join her family for whatever duties required of her— there's something to be said for the casual nonchalance that comes with walking alongside Lady Cassandra back into the open foyer.

    Where some of the Wolfpack are gathered, laughing at something or another being said. It dies when Odette notices their arrival and the hush that falls over the group of women is staggeringly quick.

    Lady Cassandra stares over her group of chosen maidens with a critical eye before asking, this time loud enough that Isolde knows that it carries. "All right, a wolf cull might be off the table, but are you certain a maiming or several won't suffice?"

    Isolde follows her gaze, meets Rowana's across the way. "Exceptionally sure, Lady Cassandra."

    Lady Cassandra shrugs again, "Fine, whatever." She steps forward, and the casual slant to her tone sharpens to something metallic as her voice lifts in power. "I know there were at least three carcasses still in need of breaking down before tomorrow. Did you manage to discover efficiency in the last four hours or so?"

    Isolde watches the impromptu scolding for a while longer, then heads back upstairs to the warmth and comfort of the Pride's territory.

    #blood on the vine #isolde ardenlane #maiden x dimitrescu daughters #Bela Dimitrescu#Daniela Dimitrescu#Cassandra Dimitrescu#cw: insects#cw: horror #dimitrescu gremlin trio #swarm x the swarm
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  • homoo-wan-kenobi
    03.12.2021 - 5 hours ago
    #jacquelyn's ask box #lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8
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  • angstyanon0
    03.12.2021 - 5 hours ago
    #alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x y/n #alcina x reader #re8 #resident evil village #angstyanon😛#angstyanon#angstyanon0
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  • homoo-wan-kenobi
    03.12.2021 - 5 hours ago

    I think that as a fandom, y'all should pool together at least $96 (cause shipping and tax) and get me a personalised maggie video for my birthday and then gift it to me on the 11th (if she does it before that and cause that's my birthday), so yeah that's what I think 😌

    #maggie robertson#lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #I'm joking #but like... just think it over
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  • homoo-wan-kenobi
    03.12.2021 - 5 hours ago
    View Full
  • homoo-wan-kenobi
    03.12.2021 - 6 hours ago
    #jacquelyn's ask box #lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#mother miranda #lady dimitrescu x reader #mother miranda x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8
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  • homoo-wan-kenobi
    03.12.2021 - 6 hours ago
    #jacquelyn's ask box #lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8
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  • jinxxparodiesproductions
    03.12.2021 - 7 hours ago

    I’ve been seeing that meme of the two guys on a bus a lot lately on Twitter and since I make a lot of RE8 comics I couldn’t resist

    #art #artists on tumblr #artwork#doodle#re8 meme#re village#re8 village #resident evil 8 #re art #resident evil fanart #re lady dimitrescu #re heisenberg#re8 moreau#re donna#re8 art#re fanart#fanart #resident evil 8 fanart
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  • euphxricedits
    03.12.2021 - 7 hours ago

    Take Me Far Away (Alcina X Reader)

    3.4k words

    Chapter 2; Edelweiss

    It was late in the evening, the sound of the birds chirping slipped in through the windows as they were ajar. There was barely any sun left, a warm amber painted the clouds that lingered. The smell of your father's cologne filled your nose as you walked down the steps, following your father steps - a briefcase in his hand.

    Your husband was away in town due to business as he always seemed to be. Of course you paid no mind as you resented the man. Marius helped him with his coat, the sound of a carriage driving over gravel, arriving just outside, stopping before the door. You slowly approached your father, your hands nervously fiddling with the hem of your dress. Something was tugging at you from within, this didn't feel right. You were begging him not to depart from you. Your father turned to look at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips, you could see there was no worry in his eyes. You returned the smile half-heartedly. You loved your father. He moved towards you and wrapped his free arm around you, pulling you close, making you feel protected. You inhaled a soft breath, taking in his scent, the scent that you would only again smell from his old clothes or from the vile of cologne found in his chambers. You wished he didn't have to leave, but tonight he had already arranged for him and his associates to meet for drinks.

    "My dear copil, I will be fine. You take care of yourself. Get some well needed rest and I will be back by morning." He seemed so sure, was he not aware of what he was about to walk himself into? He couldn't have known.

    "Those men are duplicitous, you should never trust them." You spoke truthfully. You saw those deceitful men for who they truly were. Every moment your father was alone with them was a ticking clock, you knew in your soul nothing good would come from this evening.

    Your father seemed to shrug away your words. How could he be so blind? All you wished to do was help him. You watched as your father walked out the door and got into his carriage.

    "la revedere fiică" He spoke loudly, his head peaking out the window to the carriage. You stood there at the entrance of the vestibule. You wistfully watched as his carriage rode down along the path. Your eyes lingered there even after your father's carriage was out of sight, your fingers intertwined in front of your abdomen, heart yearning for him to return home, nevertheless, he would not. You only returned indoors once Andreea grabbed you and gently led you back in thorugh the tall wooden doors. When you awoke the next morning to a tearful Andreea entering your room, you knew before she spoke a single word. Your heart ached, it burned to breathe. Your father had died. You were struck so harshly with the grief, you refused to eat or drink for days, resulting in you becoming ill, only recently have you started to eat again.


    Thunder crackled around you, the dry dirt clasped in your shut fist. You stood, holding your closed hand above your father's grave. A tear fell from your cheek as you loosened your grip, the dirt trickling from your fingertips into the darkness below, watching as the first bit of dirt covered your father's glossed and polished casket - that would soon be packed under the dirt. Nicolae stood behind you, waiting patiently for his turn to drop a fistful of dirt onto your father casket. You slowly glanced over towards the woman who had captured your attention earlier. She was giving you a warm, soft expression. She clearly pitied you, you resented pity. You looked away, watching as Nicolae released the dirt. He didn't seem hurt by your father's passing at all, no shock as you knew there was no place in that man's heart for you or your father. Nicolae held no reservation in your heart either.

    You looked down towards your lap once you sat back down, holding one of your father's old handkerchiefs in your palm, your thumb loosely caressing the smooth fabric, eyes glossed over, your bottom lip quivering. You let out a struggled, shaky breath attempting to keep your composure. The man began to dip their shovels into the piles of dirt, dropping loads on dirt onto your father's coffin. You heard after some time as people rose from their seat to take their leave. You sat there for a moment, even after Nicolae left to make conversation with the other guests there, including Lord and Lady Dimitrescu.

    You looked over your shoulder towards the man and woman who stood side by side, talking to Nicolae, drawing your interest. You slowly stand from your seat, holding the handkerchief, moving towards the small cluster of people. You overheard Nicolae inviting them over for tea, your heart raced with panic - Tea? As you approached them, gaining their attention, a woman approached you with a small bouquet of Edelweiss, a beautiful coat of white. You gave a strained smile, trying your best to seem grateful for this person's kind gesture. You brought the flowers to your nose, gradually take in their soothing scent before hearing someone clear their throat. It only took you a moment to realize you were being spoken to. You saw your husband staring right at you with a questioning expression. Your eyes panned from Nicolae, to Lord Dimitrescu, then lastly to Lady Dimitrescu who wasn't looking at you, not directly anyway. Her eyes, fixed on the flowers you held in your hand. You watched as her expression changed, her eyebrows furrowed. Was there a hint of pain in her eyes?

    "We should invite Lord and Lady Dimitrescu over for tea, don't you agree?" He questioned you, earning your attention. You opened your mouth to respond only for the other woman's voice to break the awkward silence.

    "I'm far too exhausted from travelling." She said abruptly, her voice sounding a bit raspy as she spoke. "Besides, I'm sure your wife needs time to grieve." She Impatiently tappede her fingers against the skirt of her gown. She clearly wanted to depart from this conversation, but for what reason?

    Your eyes looked her up and down, observing how she stood, seeing the small movements her fingers made, impatience, you knew of that all too well.

    "Dear, I'm sure there is no issue with having tea." The Count spoke, speaking directly to his wife.

    The Countess just looked away, gently grabbing the skirt of her dress, preparing to walk away. She turned her head towards you, averting her eyes. "I bid you my condolences." She spoke quickly, getting right to the point before turning and walking away. You didn't know the woman all too well but it was clear, something bothered her.

    Her husband looked at you and Nicolae, giving an empathetic smile. "Forgive my wife, she gets irritable when fatigued." He spoke quickly before taking a few steps back. "Perhaps another time!" He spoke loudly as he turned to try to catch up to his wife who had already made her way back to their carriage, her driver following her, the umbrella shielding her from the gentle rain that fell from the dark clouds above.

    You looked at Nicolae as he seemed displeased with how the other woman acted. "In all my years, I have never been in the presence of a person so ill-mannered." He spoke, his words laced with insolence.

    You shot him a glare. "Clearly you have never pay attention the way you treat others." You spat out, then walked passed him. How dare he scold the way others speak when he was no better - hypocrite. Walking towards your carriage, you watched as the Dimitrescu carriage rode off. Your heart sank, a part of you wished The Countess didn't reject your husband's offer for tea, but another part of you was relieved, unsure if you would able to handle being around such a beautiful woman without making a fool of yourself. Though you ached to know the Countess better, perhaps another time - another day.

    As you approached your carriage, the driver opened the door for you, allowing you to enter before Nicolae, who followed after you, his footsteps heavy. He was fuming. After taking his seat beside you, he made an attempt to talk to you but it was useless. The moment you heard his disrespectful tone, you disregarded his words, ignoring every word he spoke. You looked down, the flowers held in your hands. What was it about these flowers that captured the Countess's attention? You saw the emotion in her eyes, seeing these flowers triggered something inside of her. Something awakened, you could see it. Her avoiding eye contact as she bid you and Nicolae farewell only helped you believe so, the desire to find out why, growing with each passing second. You were thankful for her permeating through your mind. You didn't want to be mentally tired of thinking about the tragedy that was your father's death. You couldn't describe it but just her looking at you warmed your soul - her voice, chills. Her presence was equivalent to a breath of fresh air after being suffocated. The women from the town you inhabited never sparked your interest. They were all the same egotistical women. Sure, Lady Dimitrescu did seem high-strung, but you could feel a different aura emanating from her.

    Your attention was caught as you heard rustling coming from Nicolae's coat pocket, the letter. Today was already so eventful, you had forgotten all about it. You glanced your eyes towards his pocket as he shifted a bit in his seat. You wanted to snatch that letter in that moment but refrained as you were both in an enclosed carriage. You would need time to read it before he snatches it from you, space was needed to avoid him. After what felt like forever, the carriage arrived to the castle. You felt as the carriage came to a halt. This used to feel like home, now it was a hollow skeleton, a haunted place. All laughter and love drained from the household.

    The carriage door opened, allowing the both of you to emerge from the tense space. You followed Nicolae indoors, the rain pouring now, puddles forming. As the both of you stepped inside, Andreea and Marius helped remove the coats. You eyed Nicolae's coat as Marius took it off his shoulders. You quickly stepped close and reached into his pocket, snatching the paper as Nicolae made an attempt to stop you. You moved away, walking quickly away from him, towards the staircase. You frantically opened the letter, climbing the stairs as you heard Nicolae rushing after you, he was close. Your eyes scanned over the words once the letter was finally opened, freezing once you reached the top of the stairs. You felt as Nicolae grabbed your arm forcefully and made you turn to look at him, snatching the letter from your grasp.

    "The bank is holding all funds and lands my father promised you due to there being a continuation in his case? Don't you think that should be something you tell me, not keep hidden from me? I could care less about the money or lands. I care about my father. If they're still investigating then I should have been told about it! how dare you keep this from me!" You exclaimed, your voice carrying through the halls. Andreea and Marius were standing on the platform just behind Nicolae, watching intently, breathing heavily. They were worried, rightfully so. You felt as though you could pass out at any given moment. There was so many stress inducing events occurring and you couldn't help but feel empathy towards the both of them. They have always been there for this family and that same family they have served for so long was now beginning to wither away before their eyes.

    Nicolae stumbled at the mouth, unable to procure any words. You shook your head at this man - how dare he. You turned away only for him to grab your arm once more. Instinctively, you swung your hand around, your palm making contact with his cheek, a harsh smack echoed through the staircase and the halls. Andreea gasping, covering her mouth in shock. Marius slowly takes a step closer, ready to intervene if necessary. Nicolae's eyes widened and he released you, holding his cheek with his hand. Your eyes widened as you too were shocked with your actions, but there was no regret plaguing your conscious, only satisfaction. You quickly moved away and rushed towards your chambers. You heard more steps following you in a quickened fashion. You hurriedly shut the door behind you, locking the door before anyone could make it inside. The door shook as Nicolae tried to open the door, his voice piercing as he yelled profanities. You took a few steps back, your eyes filling with tears. What has your life come to? How could you live the rest of your life married to this horrible man? Somethings were bearable, being stuck for the rest of your life with a manipulative, conceited, narcissistic and man was not one of them.

    You inched your way towards your window, looking through the window pane at the water that trickled down the clear surface. Your heart felt trapped, broken, lost. You slowly took a seat, dropping your head onto your palms as you finally let your sobs free. You have spent all day trying to hold yourself together. Nicolae made sure that everyday including today was tainted. You missed your father. He was the only person who Nicolae feared. With him gone, how were you going to make it through this life?

    Why would he keep the letter from you? What purpose would that serve?


    Alcina removed her coat, the warmth of the new home they were inhabiting coated her chilled skin. She could feel Stefan's eyes on her as she takes off her gloves, handing them to her maid. She walked away, ignoring her husband as he stood there watching her. She gently patted down the stray hairs after removing her black hat, then gently moved her hands down her dress, straightening it out. She then looked at her butler, ordering him to bring her tea. She takes a seat beside the fire, settling down on the love seat. She crossed her legs, the maid placing a knitted throw-blanket over The Countess's lower half. Stefan approaching, sitting in the chair beside the couch.

    "Why did you reject the man's offer? We are here to make friends, not turn them away. You were quite rude, Alcina." He told her sternly.

    The Countess rolled her eyes and exhaled heavily, gently taking the cup of tea from the butlers hand as he approached her.

    "We hardly even know them." She stated. She then watched the fire, taking small sips of the hot liquid.

    "You know very well that it's our purpose here to befriend these people." He spoke sternly.

    "We met plenty of people at the funeral." She snapped back quickly, almost cutting him off.

    "This wouldn't have anything to do with that woman would it?" He asked her in an accusing tone sitting up straight, crossing his arms.

    She scoffed, placing the saucer and the tea cup onto her lap. "Don't be ridiculous." She said plainly.

    "You don't even know this woman, need I remind you what happened to the last woman you were infatuated with?" His words stung, poison dripped with each word he spoke. The maids eyes widened and she took that comment from him as her cue to leave the room.

    The Countess's movements stopped as she went to take yet another sip of tea. She didn't even appear to be breathing in that moment. It took her a moment before being able to respond "I don't know who you're speaking of but I assure you-" Her words were cut off, her head quickly turning to look at Stefan.

    "Victoria." He spoke sternly "I'm talking about your past lover, Victoria." He saw the change in her demeanor to a heart broken and shocked one. He knew he hit a nerve, something inside of him liked poking at her in such a way.

    The Countess tried her best to kept her demeanor, but she was panicking. Her heart was racing, how did he know about her? That name she hasn't heard in years. Her relationship with Victoria ended before she even met Stefan, how did he know? How could he?

    She kept the silence between them, refusing to acknowledge his words. He looked over at the butler who stood by the door with a glare on his face, he clearly wasn't pleased with the way Stefan was speaking to The Countess. Stefan sighed out, giving up for the evening, he had his fun. Now he needed to get his rest as he would spend the next day meeting other gentlemen, including Nicolae early. He stood up, approaching her.

    "Are you going to bed?" He asked her, standing behind the couch, speaking as if he hadn't just infuriated the woman.

    The Countess scoffed at his words. She was amused at his assumption that she would be going to bed after what he just said. "No." She said sternly, looking back at the flames, listening as the wood crackled, the bright embers and the flames lighting the room.

    Stefan raised his hands in defeat before walking away, leaving The Countess to her intrusive memories and thoughts. The butler too made his leave, wanting to give the lady her privacy, making his way to bed.

    The Countess sat there with a firm expression, her eyes glossing over, her chest rising and falling. She stared off into the flames, eyelids growing heavy, losing herself to her thoughts - she closed her eyes.

    The warm breeze flowing through her hair, The warmth of the sun coated Alcina's skin. The sound of another woman's laughter filled her ears. She smiled bright as she saw the blonde, curly-haired woman in a white dress, running through a field of edelweiss. "Come on Alci, it's beautiful!" The woman's voice echoed through her mind. The blonde came to her and grabbed her hand, a laugh exerting from within Alcina's throat. The feeling of having the other woman's hand in her own was enough to bring her to tears. The blonde led her through the flowers, both barefoot - Victoria was such a free-spirit. Victoria's white dress flowed in the wind. Alcina watched the other woman with love and adoration. "You're going to dirty your dress." She informed the blonde, earning a chuckle from the other woman. "It wouldn't be the first time my dress got dirtied. If I remember correctly, the evening we met, we snuck off into this very field, both of our dresses got ruined that evening." She teased, approaching Alcina, wrapping her arms around her waist, pressing her forehead against Alcina's. Alcina grew red at the cheeks, taking a deep breath. She wished this moment could last forever. "Promise you'll never leave me, Alci." Victoria's voice was soft, gentle and soothing. Alcina's blue eyes glistened as they gazed into Victoria's hazel orbs. "I swear it..." Alcina's voice was tender, gently caressing the other woman's cheek before their lips met in a warm, compassionate kiss. The feeling of the other woman's hand in Alcina's hair made her melt. Alcina took a step back, suddenly gasping as she tripped backwards, both of them landing on the ground, laying in the flowers now. Victoria laughed and pecked Alcina's lips once more before rolling off from on top of Alcina, both staring at the clouds in this moment. Their fingers intertwined as they watched cloud that whole evening. That evening would be the last time she ever saw Victoria.

    The Countess's grip loosened on the tea cup that was clasped in her hand, resulting in the tea cup slipping, dropping to the floor as she fell into an unconscious state. The collision of the cup and the floor was silent due to the carpet beneath. A single tear left the corner of The Countess's closed eyes, streaming down her cheek, falling onto her chest. It stormed outside the castle, Alcina's head slowly laid back against the cushion backed sectional. She dreamt of that memory. The memory that plagued her soul, reminiscence of the curly-haired, blonde beauty, Victoria. A memory burned into her brain


    #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #ladyvaron#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #resident evil
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  • professionallydeadinside
    03.12.2021 - 8 hours ago
    #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #my art#fanart#answered#doodles
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  • owlidoodles
    03.12.2021 - 8 hours ago

    more Sam I Am

    two mcdoubles, no pickles. defend your Giant Wife

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