#family dimitrescu

[eeriedragone]

Ooooagh I'm DONE more or less

A while ago I got to see Mother Mother live (still can't believe that happened) and it inspired me to make... whatever this is :p

The inconsistencies can be attributed to the breaks I had to take whole making it, and my fluctuating motivation. Messy as it is, I still had fun, and that was my main goal :) I hope you enjoy it, or at least discover a new cool song!

[viribuskirk]

MOTHER. MOTHER. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOMMY. MOMMY. MOM. MOM. MOMMY. MA. MA. MAMA. MOM. MAMA. MA. MOM.

[misswynters]

The crazy and blonde

Part One

Leon S. Kennedy x dimitrescu!reader

song rec: reflections by the neighbourhood

warnings: blood, one kiss :3

The first time Leon saw you, it was under the flickering light of a broken streetlamp, shadows coiling around your silhouette like they’d been summoned to you. Street littered with bodies, undead shambling toward the distance, oblivious to the bloody mess at your feet. You stood in the center of it all, breathing hard but perfectly still, a dark, almost serene smile on your lips as blood dripped slowly from your hands.

He froze. There was something mesmerizing about you—this lethal calm, a sense of dark purpose that he hadn’t seen in anyone else. When your eyes turned to him, sharp as a blade’s edge, he felt his heart lurch. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he couldn’t move. You had him pinned with just a look.

“You lost, officer?” you asked, your voice smooth and mocking as you raised a brow. Your lips curled into a smirk as you took him in, and he noticed the faintest glimmer of hunger in your gaze, like you were sizing him up, determining whether he’d be of any use.

Leon cleared his throat, gripping his gun tighter. “I… wasn’t expecting company.”

You let out a low chuckle, and the sound slid over him like silk, sending a shiver down his spine. “Neither was I,” you murmured, casting a casual glance at the bodies around you. “But you don’t look like them. Not scared or helpless.” You tilted your head, gaze roaming over him appraisingly. “So, what are you, then?”

He held his ground, even as every instinct screamed that you were dangerous. “Just someone trying to get out of this hellhole,” he replied steadily, his eyes never leaving yours. “If you’re not one of them,” he nodded toward the corpses, “maybe we could work together.”

You seemed to consider this, your smirk deepening as you took another step forward, invading his space with an intensity that made his pulse hammer. “Work together?” you repeated, as if the words amused you. “Interesting.” You leaned in slightly, close enough that he could see the fine lines of blood staining your cheeks, close enough that he caught a whiff of something both intoxicating and unsettling. “Are you afraid of a little blood, officer?”

Leon swallowed, his throat dry. “I’ve seen enough not to be.” Your smirk widened, a spark of something dark and dangerous flaring in your eyes. “Good,” you purred, and, without warning, you tossed a knife into his hand. He caught it, feeling its weight and sharpness, his gaze flicking back to you in surprise.

“If we’re going to survive, you might need more than just that gun,” you said smoothly, crossing your arms as you waited, as if daring him to protest.

He gave you a wary look, but there was a hint of admiration beneath it. “Thanks, but I can handle myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” You laughed softly, though there was something almost predatory in your expression, a glint in your eyes that made his heart beat faster. “Let’s just see if you can keep up.” With a final smirk, you spun on your heel and disappeared into the shadows, your steps barely making a sound. For a split second, he hesitated, unsure whether to trust you, but something about you. There was thi strange, dark elegance, the ruthless way you dispatched those creatures. It made him believe you could get him out of this mess. Or at least make it interesting.

He followed, keeping pace as best he could, watching the way you moved, like a predator gliding through the night. Everything about you was lethal and effortless, a blend of violence and grace that both terrified and fascinated him. At one point, you stopped dead, raising a hand to signal silence. Leon crouched beside you, scanning the alley, his senses on high alert. “What is it?” he whispered, keeping his voice low.

You shot him a quick, almost teasing look. “Someone’s in a hurry to get out alive,” you whispered back, but then you pressed a finger to your lips, your gaze sharpening. “Quiet,” you said softly, and the authority in your voice made him obey without question.

Leon barely dared to breathe, watching you with tense fascination as you disappeared into the shadows. For a few seconds, he could only hear silence, thick and pressing, and then—a scream, cut off almost as soon as it began, followed by a dull thud.

When you reappeared, blood spattered across your face, you looked every inch the vengeful phantom. You gave him a pleased, slightly wicked smile as you wiped a bit of blood from your cheek. “That’s one way to clear a path,” you said with a dark chuckle, sheathing your blade.

He raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t survive it,” you replied with a smirk, stepping closer, your eyes gleaming as they searched his face. Then, almost playfully, you traced a line down his chest with a gloved, blood-streaked finger. “Tell me, Leon,” you murmured, voice soft and laced with something darker. “Why do you trust me?”

Leon’s breath caught as he felt the chill of your touch even through his jacket. “I didn’t say I did,” he said, his voice rough.

Your lips quirked, your gaze never leaving his. “Then why do you keep following me?” There was no point denying it anymore; he’d been drawn to you from the start, even if he knew it was reckless. He forced himself to hold your gaze, a small, defiant smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I like the challenge. Or maybe I think you’re as stuck here as I am, and you don’t want to admit it.”

You went still, and for a moment, he saw something shift in your expression. There was a flicker of vulnerability, something raw and painful that quickly disappeared behind your carefully crafted mask. Your fingers paused on his chest, then resumed their path, tracing a slow, tantalizing line. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you whispered, leaning close enough that he could feel your breath against his neck. “I could leave any time. I’m just… enjoying the entertainment.” You shrugged pulling back, gaze heavy-lidded and challenging. “Unless you’re suggesting you need me.”

Leon swallowed, heart racing, heat pooling in his chest despite the cold air. He couldn’t deny the strange pull he felt, the thrill of your presence. “Maybe I do,” he admitted softly, barely a whisper. “Or maybe you make this whole situation feel a little less miserable.”

Something softened in your gaze, your smirk fading, and for the first time, he saw a hint of genuine warmth. “Well,” you murmured, almost to yourself, “I suppose I could use some company too.”

And before he could think twice, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that was surprisingly tender, almost gentle. He felt the cold of your touch, the faint metallic taste of blood, but underneath it, something raw and vulnerable. Something real. When you pulled away, your lips curled into a dangerous smile, and you tilted your head. “You sure you can handle me, officer?” you murmured, the question playful yet laced with a dark edge.

Leon’s eyes glinted as he smirked back, matching your energy, surprising even himself with his boldness. “Guess we’ll find out.”

With a wicked grin, you turned back toward the alley, casting one last look over your shoulder. “Try to keep up, then. I don’t wait around for dead weight.”

And, without hesitation, he followed you, stepping into the darkened alleyways of raccoon city beside you, knowing he was risking his life, but for the first time, he didn’t care.

banner: @anitalenia

[jinxxparodiesproductions]

Here, ya’ll tumblr folks get to have this treat a bit early 😁 hope everyone has a good Easter 🐰

[cillivnz]

a good host [k. heisenberg]

PAIRING — KARL HEISENBERG x DIMITRESCU!READER

TROPE — DBF! [here, mother’s friend, no really close relation] WORD COUNT — 2469

WARNINGS — NSFW. 18+. fem!reader. f!masturbation, usage of sex toys, virgin!reader, voyeurism, hefty age-gap (reader is in early 20s, Karl is in his 50s), vaginal fingering, innocence/corruption kink, cursing, pet-names (bunny, little girl, etc.), slight degradation (he calls you a whore), slightly mean!Karl, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, squirting, overstimulation, clit-play.

A/N — i just think heisenberg would be a good fuck, that’s it— that’s what motivated this. i’m slowly rising like a phoenix out of the fires of writer’s block, so, slowly but surely i’m trying to get back on track with my requests and works. though, a full comeback might take a few months. no mention of Alcides [ gender-bent Lady Dimitrescu ], didn’t want to jinx the two verses, so Alcina is Alcina.

more from my ‘resident evil: village’ world.

“FUCK,” YOU GROAN as you shut the door to your chambers behind you.

you’d excused yourself for the umpteenth time, now inconsiderate of how rude you would seem to the man you’ve been leaving all alone in the cold and empty dining room of your manor.

well, your mother’s.

and a friend, too.

well, not a friend.

Karl Heisenberg and Alcina Dimitrescu would prefer the term, “(unfortunate) associates”, but manners run well in a noble’s blood so it’s natural for the two to try and be cordial.

and it’s the same manners, the same etiquettes instilled in you that have put you in this state.

flushed, embarrassed, and wet.

you couldn’t bare to look Heisenberg in the eye while he made small talk with you in your home.

his round, black glasses were perched on the tip of his strong nose, his hat, like a loyal companion, sat next to him on a wooden chair, his greyed hair, out and frisky. his overcoat had been long abandoned, perhaps, at the very entrance to the castle, so his beige undershirt, clasped around his big broad muscles and softer belly didn’t go unnoticed by you.

fuck, the more you took in his appearance, the hotter became the air in the room, your ability to breathe and the more frantically you’d rub some friction between your thighs.

YOU’VE FOUND KARL HEISENBERG INSATIABLE since you were a little girl, which you still were in his eyes, as he painfully reminded you every time by referring to you by that and nothing else. as of lately, your urges around him have worsened.

since your eighteenth birthday, Heisenberg’s began to look at you a little differently.

he listens carefully to the squeaky little bunny that’s lately got the balls to interrupt her own mother and company, correct them in political matters. yeah, Heisenberg’s began to notice you. earlier, your greetings would be dismissed with a nonchalant wave in the air, but now? heisenberg could hear you talk for hours, so desperately wanting to hear the sultry tone of your voice that he’d ask to hear the same story about your earliest memory hunting, over and over again.

so, to say he felt appalled by your frequent exits from your evening together— an evening he had committed to your mother, had Alcina been home— was an understatement.

after the third time you had left him alone, his impatience and ego got the best of him, though there was an undertone of curiosity there, too. so, he, sly as a fox, followed you to your room.

your back was pressed against the door, muffling your cries while you rubbed your clit down with a toy. you were in a trance, mind fogged with painful lust that drove your legs on its own fervour. you sink into your bed, ripping your dress off of yourself in a swift motion, and hiding your bare skin with a poor excuse of a duvet.

your toy was swimming in your slick with every rub against your cunt.

“fucking hell,” you moaned when the tip of the toy nudged your slit, massaging your hole, easing in only to pull out immediately.

while you edged yourself, thoughts of Karl crawled in, like their usual tendency. you fantasised about his big hands, how they were resting on your knee for a brief second, before continued sipping on his earl grey tea.

you sighed when his name escaped your parted lips. you wanted nothing more than to be split open on his cock, at his mercy. your mother would be so ashamed if she ever finds out one of her most disliked friends is the prime source of your infatuation.

you think about his lips on yours, your breasts, his fingers inside you, on your clit— you whined, “this so wrong, but fuck me,”

AND KARL HEISENBERG COULDN’T AGREE MORE.

admiring you from afar, he couldn’t help but feel a twitch of arousal in his pants. he is no damn saint, but he knew it was wrong of him to enter your room without permission. not his fault, your moans sounded like cries, so you worried him, he just wanted to make sure you’re okay. and his reason for staying to watch the show? well, like i said, he’s no goddamn saint. he just wants to make sure you’re really okay.

“so this is what you keep hopping off to do, little bunny.” his thunderous voice roared in the quiet of your room, the transatlantic accent deeper once laced with lust and mischief.

you jolted upright, “L-Lord Heisenberg!” you clutched the duvet to your chest, failing to cover a breast, still, and his eyes were quick to catch your mistake.

“please, call me Karl.”

“you seemed to have no problem in moaning it.”

you froze, clenching involuntarily around the the length of your penetrating toy.

“i—”

“shh, it’s okay.” your stammering was interrupted by a single step taken by Karl closer to you.

“i don’t mind, bunny.” he cooed, softly.

he took this moment to admire you.

you looked like a deer caught in headlights. your doe eyes, furrowed brows, plump, parted lips, the subtle perspiration settled on your collarbone, the duvet clinging to your cleavage and your pebble-like nipples peaking through it.

“i’m just mad you had to hide the show from me.” by the time those words leave his mouth, he’s on the foot of your bed. “thought Mama Dimitrescu would’ve taught you better, sweet girl.” he ‘tsk’ed.

“A GOOD HOST ISN’T SELFISH, HM?”

“A GOOD HOST LETS THE GUEST JOIN IN ON THE FUN,” he says; nods convincingly. a gentle hand inching towards your blanketed body, ready to peel the duvet off and expose you in all vulnerability.

he eyes you for a moment, face searching for any sign of hesitation or discomfort, but was pleased to see you rip all coverings off yourself on your own, grabbing Karl by the hand and pulling him towards you.

his face was so close to yours, you felt heat emitting from your body onto his.

“now, little bunny, are you sure yo—”

you cut him off by placing a kiss of fervency on his lips, giving Heisenberg the answer to questions he was yet to ask.

he let you enjoy the lead for a brief moment more, before taking control. laying you down, Karl was quick to climb on top of you, his hands not wasting a minute to feel your body beneath him.

“i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want this, too, little bunny.” you gasped at the confession, Karl using your parted lips as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

you were kissing your mother’s friend, holy fuck.

“tell me, baby,” he pulled away, eliciting a whine from you. he now laid besides you, relishing the warmth of your bare body.

“‘you ever put a real cock in there?” his hand grabbed a hold of the toy, easing in the tip into your slick folds.

your mind went blank, grinding your hips slowly into the sudden intrusion. “when i ask you a question, little girl, you answer it.” Heisenberg’s voice deepened in dominance. “n-no, sir.” you shook your head.

Karl groaned in arousal.

the thought of stripping away your innocence was so intoxicating.

“of course not. that brute dame knows better than to let you out of this shithole.” he scoffs, evidently insulting your mother, for reasons he named himself, “the minute you ought to step out, men would be pouncing on you like rabid dogs.”

he didn’t stop pumping the toy inside you, agonisingly slow, leaving you whining and begging for more.

“you want more, huh, bun?” he spoke so gently. you nodded, unable to form words because of the aching sensation between your legs.

“okay, i’ll give you more.” he lifted you up like you weighed a feather, placing you between his legs. his own were positioned between yours, so all it took for him to have you spread out was just a nudge of his knees.

“there we go, now spread that pretty pussy for me.” he rested his head on your shoulder, watching eagerly while you hesitated a little to comply.

he put his hands on yours,

and they fit like pieces of an intricate puzzle.

enveloping your smaller ones completely, his hands guided yours to spread your pussy open. the cold air of your room hit your leaking slit, causing you to shudder in his arms.

“look at you glistening, baby.”

“my god,” he groaned, rubbing your hand (and his atop) into your slick.

you sighed into the feeling of your soft hands, mixed with his large, rough ones.

“show me how you please that little pussy.” he whispered in your ear, kissing your lobe.

you nodded, biting your lower lip at his vulgarity.

a lord, yet so crude.

you began toying with your clit, rubbing figure-eights on the swollen bud. Karl’s hands wasted no time in fondling your breasts— groping, squeezing, twisting your nipples, tugging at them— only adding more pleasure to the sensation.

“ease one in.”

you weren’t sure what he mumbled until he decided to take matters into his own hands (literally) and rubbed a finger against your slit.

you swore you forgot how to breath when the sharp sensation of the digit penetration was felt.

“Karl…” you moaned, relishing in the feel of being stretched open.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?” he asked, velvety voice dripping honey on you.

simply answered, “you.”

he kissed your neck, “i know, bunny. but what in specific?”

“uh~”

“tell me.” he grunted, pushing another finger inside.

“y-your hands… i think about your fingers… inside me.”

you mewed hearing him groan in your ear, the subtle nuzzle of his head into your neck urged you to continue. “‘want nothing more than your cock pounding me— wanna be at your mercy, Karl!”

“fuck, baby,” Karl groaned at your vulgarity; even you were surprised at the profanities leaving your lips but the lust hazed cloud in your mind burst with rains of arousal.

“i’ll give what you want for being such a good girl.” he purred in your ear, discarding the drenched toy. your whine at the loss of contact turned into a gasp when he so carelessly threw away your toy to the corner of the room.

you looked up at him through your lashes, feigning faux offense at the abandonment of your favourite companion on a lonely night. “don’t worry,” assured Karl, grinning.

“you won’t be needin’ that no more.” he grinned, plunging two of his thick digits right into your core.

you were stretched like a spring at the hands of this rugged noble. he nuzzled his head into your collarbones, the rugged stubble adorning his handsome face prickling your soft flesh.

Karl bit, licked, sucked, and nibbled, while you writhed, moaned, shivered, and cried in ecstasy.

“such a naughty girl— ‘acting so noble and sophisticated all the time, but when Mama’s friend comes in sight, you start cussing like a sailor with the libido of a pervy sleazeball.” he chuckled at his own descriptions of you, while you hadn’t registered a word he said, simply clenching and unclenching around his experienced fingers, moaning his name with every haggard breath.

“c-close!” you hiccuped, tears staining your rosy face.

“god, you’re so beautiful.” Karl groaned, licking the shell of your ear. you shuddered, not knowing if it was at his lewd actions or the mere compliment.

Karl breathed in your scent, your sensual oud suppressed by the sweet fragrance of your arousal.

he pulled out his fingers.

you began crying.

“why…?” you sobbed, “because,” he explained.

“you’ve not been a very good host, baby girl— leaving your guest waiting like that. only fair you don’t get release this soon, hm?”

he cooed his justification and you weeped like you had committed the most heinous crime.

your hole fluttered around the damp, chill air of your room. gaping around the new nothingness that replaced the stuffed fulfilling treatment you were receiving prior.

“please, i’m sorry— i’m… i’ll do better next time—”

“next time?” Karl was quick to intervene.

“what makes you think there’ll be a ‘next time’?”

your glassy eyes widened, “please, Karl, i’m begging you.”

“hm…” he hunched over your shoulder, chin prodding into your shoulder blade while he looked over at you, nonchalantly. not even an ounce of remorse, amusement, if anything.

“okay. since Mommy taught you manners,”

he rammed his fingers back into your cunt, a look of devilish glee spread across his face.

in and out, in and out, in and curl.

you screamed when he hit that spongy spot inside of you, dead-on. Karl was quick to cover your mouth.

“now, now, we don’t want sweet ol’ Pasha hearing us, do we?” he slowed, referring to the chamberlain that’s often posted right outside your door. you shook your head, urging him to go faster like he was.

“good fucking girl,” he groaned, feeling you pulsate around his wrinkled fingers.

“give me a show, host. make it worth the hours you kept me waiting. ‘dry and hangin’.” he nudged your legs wider, further apart with his knees. the hand that covered your pretty lips now wrapped itself around your own hand.

a sweet moment that lasted mere seconds, he took your interlaced fingers and placed them on your clit, shaking your hand fervently.

your brows furrowed, vision blurred as you peaked. afraid you can’t let go, but he’ll make you.

he’ll make you lose control, just like he’s made you his.

with one last push, or shove of his fingers, he quickly pulled them out, and broke the dam of pleasure.

your slick gushed out of your drooling cunt, drenching everything, including the two of you, nearby.

Karl chuckled, triumphantly. still rubbing fervently at your overstimulated clit, urging more of your juices to squirt out.

“now, that’s a show, darling.” he chuckled, grabbing your flushed face by the chin and connecting your lips to a passionate, chaste kiss.

when you closed your legs, he slapped your thigh, causing you to wince and jerk them open.

“—the hell are you doing?” he asked, seemingly offeneded.

“are you kicking me out?” he raised a brow, a sarcastic smile threatening to break on his face.

“b-but i thought we were—”

“done? oh, no, baby. you left me alone in that dining room thrice this evening.”

“this was just the first of three.”

“now, ass up, face down.” he manhandled you in the blink of an eye.

“your guest’s gotta entertain himself.”

he chuckled, and you nearly choked when you felt something mean, and thick prodding at your abused folds.”

you were in for a long night with your guest.

pt. II. main masterlist. blog directory. COCKUETTE MASTERLIST.

[depressoexpo]

Rat one last I drew her was, 2022?

[moonysreid]

ALCINA HAS STRETCH MARKS. FACT

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

what happened to the manthing!

[twilidragonrin-art]

"Looks like the art isn't the only thing that caught Mother's attention."

[isas-bathbombs]

“Why didn’t you protect us?”

art: @brisa-art

[hydra00110110]

Being a fearsome and iconic 9 ft lord does not grant immunity to the all-too-relatable vexations of motherhood.

[echo-nt]

I know this has already been said and I’m super late, but Mia as the protag of RE8 would have been so good. The contrast between Mia, the Lords, and Mother Miranda would have been absolutely interesting. I'm shoving everything under a read more because damn I have so many thoughts about Mia.

Lady Dimitrescu is a woman that cannibalizes and drinks the blood of her servants and intruders. On top of that, she tortures before preying on them. She does this willingly and very much derives pleasure from doing so. Lady D’s gothic triplets hunt any poor fool that wanders in. It’s a fun family activity for them just as much as it’s for sustenance. 

Do you know what this parallels? The Baker family under Eveline’s control. They patrol the estate and anyone who rejects the “gift” either ends up molded or on the dinner table. This family also partakes in a fucked up version of a family dinner, eating the victims that refused their little girl’s “gift.” 

However, a major difference between the Baker and Dimitrescu family is their willingness to participate in these activities. A family of cannibals; one forced while the other relishes in it. 

Mia is still very traumatized by her three years in the Baker’s estate. Breaking into the castle to find her daughter would force her back. Hello to all the emotions that come with those memories, the ones Mia has been trying to forget. The harder you try to forget something, the more you think about it. What better way to make Mia acknowledge Dulvey, Louisiana than by forcing her into something so similar? 

And while she’s still reeling from remembering her time in captivity, why not push her a bit further down memory lane with House Beneviento? Mia has demonstrated at multiple points in RE7 that she does care about other lives. She lies to Ethan to keep him from getting caught up in her work. She tries to save Alan and crew members of "The Annabelle" (the crew members are a bit more indirect, she mainly focused on Alan) by containing Eveline. After Jack finds her, Mia keeps her distance to keep from infecting them while trying to write a warning. She tries her hardest during RE7 to save Ethan. 

Mia’s hallucinations could center on her guilt. The failure to stop Eveline and the lives ruined as a result. How she was always too late to help anyone. Ethan curing her, a criminal, over Zoe, the person helping him. Leaving Zoe behind in the shattered remains of her home and family. Surviving. Visions of Ethan hinting at his “condition” could lure her to the manor. A little nudge to the whole “he was mold the entire time” plot twist without fully giving it away. 

Moreau, lacking in self worth and very attached to a woman who doesn’t give him the time a day, yet still he considers her as his mother. Most of his actions are for the attention and validation from his “mother.” No matter what Moreau does, he’ll never have her affection or time. It’s sad, isn’t it? To witness a man try so hard only to be rejected. And isn’t that familiar? Mia once felt compassion for someone with similar traits. 

Remember the little girl who considered you her mother? The one that spent three years waiting for you to love her after you promised? The one you had a hand in killing? What makes you think you could ever be a good mother after what you did? Why are you trying so hard to save Rose when you didn’t even extend the same courtesy to Eveline?

Y’all know how Mia’s past is a mystery? Like why she was working for the Connections and how she was even recruited and all that. Heisenberg would be a great way to explore it. A man taken, forced into becoming something else, and stuck in a family he doesn’t want. Mia can relate. He wants to use her daughter as a weapon. She was willing to let another child be used as a weapon. They’re alike, so surely Mia would be willing to side with him.

But Heisenberg is cocky and Mia isn’t the person she was prior/during 7. Even if she was on board with using Eveline as a weapon to end all wars or whatever bullshit the Connections told her, she’s not willing now. Not after what she’s seen and been through. This section could be Heisenberg goading her through the tvs/intercoms about her past to change her mind with Mia remaining steadfast in her refusal.

And then there’s Mother Miranda. Two mothers trying to get their daughters back through vastly different means. Because of the group photo showing Mia and Miranda with Eveline this encounter can go one of two ways. 

Miranda and Mia know each other and have worked together before. Whether it be on the E-Series Project (with Mia becoming the caretaker and spending copious amounts of time at the lab) or though some other means at work. 

They’ve only briefly met when the Connections were in a hurry to transport Eveline.

Either way, Miranda would compare them. As a mother, Mia must understand what she’s trying to accomplish. Would Mia not do the same as she? Maybe at this point Miranda shows she killed Ethan to demoralize to prevent her from interfering with the ceremony. Tells her she’s too late once again and to give Rose to her because she’ll be the superior mother.

Idk, I guess you could switch to Ethan instead of Chris so he can still have Eveline tell him he’s moldy. But he’s a stubborn man and he forces himself back to weaken Miranda so Mia can kill her. Chris shows up and Ethan does the same thing he did at the end by blowing himself up with Chris forcing Mia (with Rose) on the helicopter. That way the Shadow of Rose DLC can still be about Rose and Ethan. 

TLDR; Mia should have been the protagonist because it would have allowed us to explore her character and background more. It was a missed opportunity especially since so much of RE8 centers around mothers. It would have played out better as closing off the Winters Family saga as well since we could have tied the loose ends that came with Mia’s mysterious past.

[morningmask27]

catified resident lover, it's been a little while ago!

I had a few drawings still waiting and decided to draw somewhat tonight, so here's a new collection of the dimi sisters (with a Donna cameo) and their antics

[cillivnz]

more than what you bargained for [k. heisenberg]

PAIRING — KARL HEISENBERG x DIMITRESCU!READER

TROPE — DBF! [here, mother’s friend, no really close relation] WORD COUNT — 1163 (short and sweet)

WARNINGS — NSFW. 18+. fem!reader. loss of virginity, hefty age-gap (reader is in early 20s, Karl is in his 50s), daddy kink, innocence/corruption kink, cursing, pet-names (bunny, little girl, etc.), slight degradation, slightly mean!Karl, p! in v! sex, brief orgasm denial, dacryphilia, slight exhibitionism, overstimulation, clit-play, mention of blood, spiting, cum-play, inappropriate usage of stuffed toys!

A/N — requested! i wasn’t going to leave y’all hanging high n’ dry, nonetheless, but thank you, all! (💋 for u) no mention of Alcides [ gender-bent Lady Dimitrescu ], didn’t want to jinx the two verses, so Alcina is Alcina.

i’ve decided to write this as a mini-series, can absolutely be read as stand-alones, the title would be “cockuette”, inspired by the coquette-ish aesthetic of the series, hence the 🎀 on Karl!

NOTES [excuse inaccurate translations from romanian to english]

draga esti acolo : sweetie, are you there? da, mamă? : yes, mother? da, mamă. am doar febra : yes, mother. i just have a fever.

YOUR NIGHT HAD JUST begun.

spinning you around, you were manhandled into a vulgar, shameless position— with you face squished against your pink, cum-slick duvet, and your ass up and spread for the older man.

“such a pretty pussy, baby. you’re really givin’ this ol’ man a treat,” he spread your gushing hole with both his thumbs.

you felt his hot breath fanning over your clenching cunt, whimpering like a wounded animal at how painful the anticipation from the lack of contact made you feel.

“hurts, daddy—” you moaned, your subconscious choosing your words.

“—daddy, huh?” he cocked a brow.

you looked back with widened eyes, face flushed with embarrassment.

you gulped, taking in the scars painting his handsomely aged face.

why was he even more beautiful up close?

“sorry…” you bat your lashes, pussy twitching involuntarily around his thumbs, still stretching you wide for the cold air of your room.

“nah, bunny. ‘s nothing to be sorry for,” he let go of your round ass to pull you closer, cupping your face and kissing you gently.

you felt every crevice of the metal man’s lacerated face, his soft silver locs brushing against the apples of your cheeks, pale grey eyes staring lovingly into yours only after his plump lips parted from your kiss-swollen ones.

he flipped you around, girthy cock falling heavy on your clit almost immediately.

without another word, he pushed the tip inside you, making you gasp.

“K-Karl! holy fuck—” you whined, showing hostility towards the fat penetration.

“sh, daddy’s here.

i got you, pretty bunny.”

only stopping when your hips didn’t allow him to go further, he let you adjust for a brief moment, before starting at a slow pace.

“Karl, it’s too much— too full.” you winced, eyes watery with pain.

“you’ll get used to it, bun. it’s made for you.” he grunted, eyes half-lidded, relishing in the feel of your tight cunt squeezing along his length.

“look at me when i fuck you, miss,” he grabbed your chin firmly, forcing your eyes open. the hand that hadn’t got an ironclad grip on your hip snaked its way onto your clit, rubbing vigorously. “Mama really didn’t teach you manners, huh?” he continued, thrusts gaining brute force and speed.

“that’s okay, darling girl. daddy’s here to teach you lessons. this is one of many.”

he chuckled viciously, eyes glinting with mischievous malice that once again dominated his softer side.

by now you were a moaning mess, crying over the assault of his fat cockhead on your sweet spot, and over the bruises forming on your body from his relentless groping and squeezing, his way of marking you in your most private, sensitive areas.

a reminder that you had wronged Karl earlier, and now you weren’t going to forget.

he turned you around in the blink of an eye, your returned to your initial position with the same sense of degradation; face down, ass up.

now, Karl was not holding back. not when your velvet walls were letting him glide through you.

only the sound of skin-on-skin slapping was sound, until a curt knock was heard.

“draga esti acolo?” your mother’s deep voice echoed.

you were frozen in place, life flashing before your eyes while the man balls-deep inside you only slowed his movements.

you raise your head meekly to look back at Karl, only earning a sly smirk from him.

“da, mamă?” you croaked.

“i’m sorry for leaving you alone with that bastard for so long, i couldn’t have left without dealing with those pests.” she sighed, referring to the people Mother Miranda had ordered her to deal with, but the only thing you cared about right now was Karl’s reaction to the insult.

and knowing him, you knew he was going to take it out on you.

instantaneously, he began pounding into you with brutality, using your g-spot as a punching bag for the mean shaft inside you.

you bit down on the cotton sheets, letting your sharp teeth gnaw into the floral print.

“when did he leave?” your mother’s voice was heard again.

“ah- ab-about an h-hour ago!” you grunted the high-pitched response.

silence met you momentarily.

“are you okay, dragă?” she asked, concerned.

“da, mamă. am doar febra!” you groaned.

your mother cursed under her breath, “it’s my fault for keeping you up so late. i’ll send Pasha in with remedies,” was the last thing she said before her heavy footsteps grew distant.

you moaned a sigh of relief, while the man behind you only chuckled. “bastard, huh?” he mused, still stuck on your mother’s insult.

“bet she’d chew on her words when my seed coats her daughter’s womb.” he scoffed, increasing the force of his thrusts by tenfold.

“daddy!”

your eyes rolled back, his heavy balls slapping your sensitive clit with every thrust, his large palms slapping your fat ass cheeks; could this be—

“—MORE THAN WHAT YOU BARGAINED FOR, bunny?” his hand found your clit, pinching the bud.

he looked over to your side, amused by the sight of your childhood toy, a bunny you named ‘Mina’ staring at the filth unravelling in-front of it.

he grabbed the teddy, still thrusting in and out of you, “choke on this,” he squeezed your cheeks together, opening your mouth just enough to shove the teddy bunny’s arm inside.

your cries were muffled, Karl finally able to focus on chasing his high.

pinching your bundle of nerves, he pulled out completely, feeling you sobbing fully into your sheets at the orgasm denial, cunt convulsing around nothing— the perfect moment for him to shove his cock in whole (in hole, literally) and shoot his load into the pussy whose virginity he just stripped off.

he groaned in your ears, hoisting you up by the hair to kiss you with fervency.

“that’s how a good host treats their guests.” he bit down on your lip, earning sobs from your breathless self.

pulling out, he was eager to spread you open again and see the his cum drool out of you, and lo and behold— your puffy cunt oozed out traces of blood in both of your fluids mixed. Karl stretched you wider and spat right into your hole, causing you to flinch and clench.

he chuckled, pulling Mina the bunny away from your arms, and using its saliva-soaked arm to clean your folds.

you winced at the contact, but the softness felt so good.

“milady, Lady Dimitrescu has sent some soup— OH, GODS!” Pasha the chamberlain dropped the big bowl of remedies to the ground, and charged out the same door she barged in on seeing the princess naked as the day she was born, getting her wet cunt cleaned by the most dangerous of the Lords, holding a teddy bunny in all his glory, with that goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

poor Pasha deserves therapy as compensation for the shit she sees at Castle Dimitrescu.

pt. I. COCKUETTE MASTERLIST. more from ‘resident evil: village’. main masterlist.

[eternallyunrested]

Here's a doodle of Cass for a meme I'm making. I couldn't resist posting her early, drawing her was like a breath of fresh air. Hope I somewhat captured the @team-avia art style 😭