#re8 cadou

[vivern-of-nosgoth]

All of these "Whyyy?" RE8 posts made me think that The Megamycete is literally a zomby mushroom or kind of parasitic flatworm. For example, Ophiocordyceps unilateralis (zombie-ant fungus) makes the ant to leave his anthill and control it till death, then grows from the ant's head, rupturing to release the spores. The ant behaves illogically, completely obeying the fungus.

Same with Leucochloridium paradoxum (the green-banded broodsac), parasite gets in the body of the snail, grows, then moves in her eye stalks, shaking inside them, imitade caterpillars. Parasite forces the snail stay in the light, to attract birds, their next feed station. Again, irrational behavior. Sooo…

Miranda and all Lords have kind of hyperfixation:

Alcina - blood (drown out hunger to keeping her self-control).

Karl - revenge (not freedom! Just I'll-show-you-all-you-fuckers)

Moreau - mom's appreciation (Mom look! I did cadou for you! And forgot to have some bed, normal food and clothes and home as well, I don't need it I need you first)

Donna - fear to be noticed (Don't look at me, I'm not here anyway, look at the dolls, so many of them)

And of course Miranda - her daughter (listen, she or The Megamycete make her Narcissistic as hell, I think she perceives Eva as her one and only justification of her own existence. Like without her Miranda is nothing and have nothing. Who is the father?!).

Cadou. Ok, Moreau used it to get mom's attention.

Donna just takes it out of her poor eye socket and.. Puts her cadou..In her dolls? Why, girl? New friends? Oh. So you need some company after all.

Alcina could obey Miranda's orders and experimented on her "bad" maids.. All of them. All of her staff. She don't even imprisoned them to have blood all the time, you know, just feed the bitches and take their blood, they could to be donor for at least 10-20 years. Now she haven't fresh blood and maids. Who washes your dresses now, ma'am? They are dirty you know..

Why the hell Karl needs this cadou shit if he can made some giant meat grinders? (hi Sturm, we love you, but goddamnit) Or use his electromagnetism to burn out enemies nervous system? Put Miranda in iron egg? Answer german boy, answer!

Miranda. Well, at first fuck you, at second - why didn't she.. Has a new baby in natural way? You know. Find some healthy rich bitch, shapeshift into his waifu (literally) and get the whole package? Her body has the best touch with Megamycete, so why not? Put Eva in a fresh kid and hooray. She didn't give a fuck about Eveline anyway, so what the problem. Or I don't know, brood Karl and Donna, or Karl and village girls, also whole tumblr is full of monsterfuckers just make some posts, furries will take all of lycans I swear

All of them used or spread cadou. If they achieved their goals - they wouldn't care about Megamycete anymore. So. Hyperfixation. Irrational behavior. Cadou. Spores. Parasitism. More.

Megamycete made them to continue their way to blind alley or to completely fall, because their victory is megamycete's end of feeding.

[they-call-me-youngermoney]

donna as fallen (2003) by evanescence

[captainrufflebanger]

Hi! I'm from twitter (simple follower) but i wanted to say anonymously that i love your art <3

Your Alcina depiction will forever be one of my favourite ones. She's so HERSELF & recognisable and i love that you give her a soft stomach and realistic bodytype in general.

It's such a treat among certain male gaze-y depictions (where all her weight centers at two places haha)

Your art is soo impactful and important!! It feels as you draw her while genuinely liking this character (sorry for being an extremely cheesy weirdo); as I've said, certain art feels soulless and objectified way too much

Thank you for being cool and drawing older women the way they deserve to be portrayed

Anon I need you to know I read this at 7am, cried into my tea, went to work, came home, read it again, cried aGAIN, and dug this sketch out of the WIP void just for you. You've left me speechless and I can't even begin to thank you enough for your kind words right now. May The Big Woman™ bring you happiness.

[this-box-is-empty]

rebirth

[sapphicrow]

His Better.

(A lil Lady D drabble looking at her past)

———————————

Dear Diary,

Today is the anniversary of his death. Of his complete and total departure from my world. Those who remember him perhaps view this day as a day of mourning, though I must confess I feel no such grief. A buzz of vibrant elation hums in my chest. His portrait sits in the main hall once more for today, but if not for Mother Miranda’s command for it to be in such an honorable place it would be fueling the hearth that warms my feet as I indulge in sapphic erotica, plentiful goblets of wine, maybe even a maiden or four on their knees begging for an opportunity to breathe the same air as I. He would call me a heathen and a whore. I shall call him, with phony tears in my eyes, a victim of times of political unrest. Patricide may be the more precise term, but alas, I shan’t spoil my lovely day with scandal. Mother does not wish for the truth to be spoken. I suppose it is a fair wish. I may not speak it, but I find myself needing to release this memory from my head, lest it rot in there and I begin to feel sorry for the bitch.

My father was not a good man. He was barely a man. He was a nincompoop who took advantage of his station, and his staff, and his abundant liquor collection. He was not kind. It is not for this reason I resent him, for I can hardly claim to be kind either. I resent him for his failure as a count, and his confidence in his incompetence. I remember watching his fat, clumsy fingers struggle to button his lavishly crafted waist coat with contempt. I knew from a young age that I was a far better leader than he. That my own hands, nimble and steady from years of the pointless needlework noble girls were expected to do, were suited for the control he fumbled about with so terribly. For holding the throne. I remember being fifteen years of age, watching him bumble about his office in a suit lined with silk he did not deserve the softness of. The war had threatened to touch his territory. Even then I knew that securing assets would be a vital defense for the empire he wished to construct. He did no such thing. He simply ran around like a chicken with its head severed and defiled more maids in his stress. The only measure he took was of how many drinks he could fit in his bulbous stomach. I couldn’t fathom being so irresponsible. If his land in the Carpathian Mountains was threatened, was it not clear as day that he should be worried about finding other means to protect his legacy? I recall creeping into his office in the dead of night to look over the correspondences surrounding the war and his rule and the financials that were spread carelessly about the big oak desk, my heist backed by the erratic growl of his snores. I felt as if I had forged his signature hundreds of times, even if it was my very first act of blatant treachery. It still felt so natural to use his name for my own game. It wasn’t as if he was using it for anything useful. That night he wrote a very fine letter to the duchies nearby asking for an alliance through these trying times, though the recipients would question the flair to his cursive, as well as the fact that there seemed to be a scribbled out A before his signature. I would not let this incompetent fool ruin my holdings. I would have the power that was my birthright.

For years, I would conduct similar such maneuvers. It became a performance of sorts. The key ring would leap from his belt loop to my gloved hand, landing with a graceful turn into the lock of his office. My slippered feet would dance through the slimmest crack of the door so as not to let light from the open curtains spill into the other room. My night gown would sway with me, it became synonymous with the robes of a queen in my mind. I’d Chassé from the doorway to his desk, all too eager to begin my work. The moon and I became partners in this secretive dance, for she was the subtle light I remained loyal to, granting me sight of the papers I now held under my midnight authority. And so began the unofficial, unnoticed rule of the new Dimitrescu, though the old one was oblivious to how he’d been replaced. Thankfully the old fool was a drunkard and simply believed he had managed to make all of these lucrative decisions in his intoxicated stupor.

As if.

Looking back, I cannot help but laugh heartily at how bold I was. I am much too good. But a large amount of my amusement is pointed at the pure egocentrism of the man who named himself my father. How humorous the thought of a drunk man taking the time to send out the decrees I painstakingly assembler was. There was a time when this did not entertain me, however. It was no laughing matter when my father took all the credit for my success. I had heard so much praise on the account of his wise conduct of the county. Barons and dukes and alike bowed to him, preening in his presence as if he exuded some holy power.

I grew bitter.

I was the one making these decisions! I was the one keeping him together! I had created this man’s legacy in the dead of night and neither he nor his adoring fans knew this. It infuriated me. Dear Diary, I am ashamed to admit that even now I’ve cracked the stem of my glass reminiscing upon it. For lack of a more eloquent response to this situation, it just wasn’t fair! Surely if they knew the raven haired girl with his nose and ten times his wit trailing behind him was the one truly in charge, they wouldn’t grovel to him the same way. He would be forgotten like the sorry bastard he was while everyone kissed the ground I walked upon. But they didn’t know. And so I was just his daughter. A material object he constantly strove to rid himself of. It was infuriating, I tell you, infuriating! I could only feed off of second hand acknowledgement for so long.

And so, a plot came to be. Or rather, a hastily conceived idea. I did not spend fortnights planning his death. I did not weave a technical tale of coverups and falsehoods. There was no subtlety. I was sick of hiding. You call it a risk, I called it a need. A need for his blood coating my hands as soon as possible. It was the eve of a grand event- which one it was escapes my memory for there was simply no end to the monotonous parties I was dragged along to - but all I knew was that I couldn’t stand to see him grin so smugly with the acclaim he hadn’t truly earned even one more time.

This night was not a ballet. I did not dance on light feet through the halls. I near slammed the door of my chambers as I tore through the corridors. The moon could not illumine me tonight. She would take no pleasure in seeing him torn to pieces, though I certainly would. I was near frothing at the mouth. One could paint my likeness as the lycans that now hunger in the shadows of the village.

I opened his door and closed it behind me without an ounce of gentleness. Let them hear. My nightgown billowed around me like the dark cloaks death was usually depicted wearing. The old man could not hear me over his snores. I clutched the previously ornamental dagger in my hand and snarled at the sight of his peaceful sleep. I was not going to allow him to slumber through this. In my rage I punched through the glass of his window (I dimly acknowledged it would be a good alibi for the later accusation of assassins, but mostly I just yearned for his terror) to the sound of which he shot up. He looked around frantically and saw the face of his daughter as the blade plunged into him without the courtesy of a warning. It was a wet, nasty slide of flesh around the metal of my blade. It was the sickest form of penetration. It was my finest act of political assistance to his county. I grin now at the memory of his shock. His greedy mouth parted in disbelief. He croaked my name into the night and I twisted the blade deeper. I only remember the sound from me being something between a growl and a triumphant laugh. He tried to cry out and I pulled the dagger from his side and forced it down his throat the same way I knew he had forced his foul chode down the throats of unwilling maidens. His lips curved around it and I looked down at him as his fat body flailed in agony. He deserved this, I had thought as I shoved my hand past his teeth and drug the blade along the walls of his esophagus, he deserves to die. I am greater at thirty than he ever was at fifty. I am not his daughter, I am his better. That was my mantra as I pulled horrific noises from this man. It was the most pleasurable thing I’d ever done. I had expected at least some remorse, but seeing him bloodied and dying brought me nothing but glee. I watched death tear him from his hideous form and I did not relent. I stabbed again and again until I felt calm. I had three decades of pent up anger to get out, so he was long dead before then. He looked like an oversized meatball when I was done, limp in the bed he spent most of his lazy fucking life in.

My white slip was dyed red with vengeance. This was my coronation long before I ever received the crown. I still keep that gown as a momento, though it is now far too small.

Today I contemplate that garment with all its dried blood and crusted on innards. Perhaps I have a wardrobe filled with fine dresses, but none is as fine as that one.

Can a normal dress be stained with the moment you gained independence? Can it tell the story of the rise of House Dimitrescu? Since that day we have done nothing but prosper. Even a century later I do not regret it.

Dear Diary, I am Alcina Dimitrescu. I am a cruel woman. I am power. I am not his daughter. I am forever his better.

[aussiepineapple1st]

How long? (Part 3)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 2,554 Contains: Fluff, Comfort, Cute Husband Leon, Killing Lycan.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

Waiting outside Room 9, you stand with the folders to your chest, eyes locking with Leons once he closed the door and turns towards you.

"What was that all about?" You ask with one brow raised, your body language telling Leon he better not lie because you would call him out immediately.

"I was asking if you could be put here in the office for a couple of years." He shrugged, fingers fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.

You sigh through your nose, closing your eyes as your posture becomes less authoritative. "Leon, I appreciate you trying, but we both know it's for nothing." You say giving him a sad smile. Things may be different when you were showing, but right now, you were still the governments lapdog and they didn't care about this kind of thing. Not with mass Bioterrorism at stake. You reach out to him and point a finger on his chest, curious as to why your finger was there he looks down. Bringing your finger up to flick his nose you then turn away.

"Come on, big guy. We have a plane to catch." You sniggered, feeling proud that you had just got Leon S. Kennedy with the oldest trick in the book. Albeit you did it on rare occasions so when you would actually trick him he wouldn't be expecting it.

Leon rubs his nose as he watches you walk towards the hallway you had only just walked down. Taking a slightly different rout to the front of the building your car ride was waiting for you, Leon opening the door for you he slides in after.

-----

Some small banter is had on your way towards the airport, talking about what you think the meals will be on the flight and teasing Leon on whether he will sleep on the plane or not. You made it through customs with no dramas, unlike last time when they had a new security guard who didn't know your faces. He had taken you both to a room and not believing your documentation from the President allowing you to carry your weapons. Neither of you blamed the poor boy, he didn't seem to have been taught about federal agents, especially not your kind. Why would he? The government tried to cover up what you dealt with anyway.

He didn't seem to be there today, you would have liked to say hello to him, because he was such a cute kid after all. Fresh eyed, loved his job. What you wouldn't give to enjoy what you did and have that much energy again.

You and Leon were always in business class, there would be rare moments when you wouldn't be. Not that you or Leon minded being in economy, you had both been in far more uncomfortable situations in your life. It made economy seem like heaven sometimes. Once in the air Leon had taken the folders and was going through everything, making sure he wasn't missing out on any information Hunnigan may have left out. She was good at her job though, and hardly any of the information had been left out by her during their briefing.

The plane was now dark, your seat laid back in a semi-reclined position, Leon had the light shining on him from above, going over the reports. Chris had never said he was dealing with something this big, they could have helped much earlier if he had just let them know. Though his friend had been acting distant lately, not that he blamed him with all the men he had lost over the years. Now dealing with this new Mold on his own though? It was too much pressure for just a small squad, no matter how skilled they may be.

"Leon?" Your voice croaked out as you sat up, your hand gently resting on his forearm.

Turning to you he placed the reports on the table in front of him, a hand coming to rest over yours. "What's wrong?" His eyes searched your features.

"You should get some sleep before we land, who knows how long it may be until we get to have a rest." You say with a worried look in your eyes. You could tell he hadn't got any with how dark and bloodshot his eyes were. "Your poor old man eyes need rest."

Leon could only huff a chuckle at your calling him old. "Fine. I'm just wondering why Chris never told us, we could have brought this to the President's attention sooner." He said packing everything up and placing it in a small carry-on bag you both shared.

"I'm not sure. We've spoken with him in the past year, right?" You were sure you had spoken with him a few months ago and don't remember him mentioning anything about the job he was working on.

Leon gives a nod and reclines his own seat back to meet yours, pulling his arm rest up to hide between the seats so you could snuggle into his side. Resting your head on his bicep as he holds you close. "I think he just wants to keep distant, probably doesn't want to see any more people he knows in the ground."

"I suppose... Men." You scoff.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leon turned his head to you.

"You're all the same, letting your personal emotions get the better of you. You try to be tough so no one else gets hurt, but in the end you are the ones who break from pressure." You elaborate. Leon turns his head to look back up at the ceiling, the loud humming of the engines further back in the plane making a calming white noise. You were right, painfully accurate too. You pull your arm from being pinned at your chest and rest it over Leon's, his own hand coming to rest over yours, his fingers curling under your palm. Now that his mind was slightly stiller than the past few hours it started to hit him.

Hearing him sniff and chest under your hand jump slightly, your neck lifts up with alarm. "Why are you crying?" Your words weren't THAT impactful, surely?

"I'm gonna be a dad." He sobbed silently, his hand that was holding yours rests over his eyes.

You couldn't help the wide smile that pulls on your lips, your hand now rubbing over his chest to comfort him. "Yeah.. You are."

-----

Over the few more hours you had in the air, Leon did actually sleep. Not much, but it was enough to make you happy he had rest in his body. Breakfast was served on the plane, but Leon also grabbed something from inside the airport. You had a rental car waiting for you to take from the airport's parking lot. You drove while Leon gave you directions, you don't know if you could handle looking at something in a moving car right now.

Heading deep into the mountains, sometimes making your own path as the ground was littered with snow and a road wasn't always visible. Finally coming to a stop. "I think this is as far as we can get..." You say leaning on the steering wheel, looking around at all the dead, black trees that were a stark contrast to the pure white snow on the ground and currently falling from the sky.

"Yeah. I think you're right." Leon starts to fold up the map and puts on gloves as he opens the door and walks around to your side. You were also currently putting on gloves, turning the key in the car, but leaving it in the ignition. Opening your door, Leon holds out his hand for you to take, not wanting you to slip on the fresh snow. Taking your husband's hand not thinking anything of it, as he had done this action more times than you could count. But it doesn't go unthanked.

"Thanks. We should see if we can get in touch with Hunnigan while we are here. See if the comms work and if she can patch us through to Chris?" You say stepping aside for Leon to close the door as you rug your jacket around your body, pulling the string around your waist tight.

Reaching his hand to his left ear the piece in your own ringing. "Condor and Owl to Roost, Do you copy?"

"Roost to Condor and Owl, What's your sitrep?" Her voice responds in both of your left ears.

"We are as far into the mountains as we can drive, we believe we're close to HWS' base of operations. Do you think you can patch us through to their Alpha?" Leon asks turning on a torch and looking through the dark forest, keeping you in the corner of his eye as you walk ahead slightly.

You shine your torch around, the light only reflecting off the snow, making you shine it up further into the trees. You see something reflect, causing you to double back over it, your hand reaching for your gun strapped to the side of your right leg. You weren't fast enough as it was already on top of you. Large hands around your throat push you to the soft snow you were shin deep in.

"HRK!!" Your body automatically lets out as you were buried. Leon pulling his own gun out and aiming carefully, he couldn't see you, but assumed you were under this thing's body. Shooting at it's head the male-like creature leaps off you and was about to launch itself at Leon when it's head was shot at again with an assault rifle. Turning his head to the side he saw a dark figure standing in the snow, lowering the weapon.

He puts a hand to his ear. "Yeah.. I found them."

"Chris, good timing, as always." Leon said walking over the body and to you who was sitting up out of the snow. Spitting and brushing away to frozen water off your already chilled face.

"Are you alright?" Leon asked bending down and lifting you to your feet. This earned a head tilt and squint from Chris, walking over to meet the both of you.

"Has she suddenly become fragile?" Chris points out, normally he would have let you stand up yourself. Ask if you were okay and then that would be it, but he had actively helped you to your feet. Were you injured and needed help?

"Yes, well.. No? Um.."

"I'm pregnant, not a percaline doll, Leon." You say brushing off your dark coat.

"Pregnant? Congrats, but what are you doing here then?"

"My job." You seemed to have had enough at the moment, tired and then being shoved in the snow by the throat, not a good start. You search for your gun that had slipped from your hand from being too slow to draw it, slamming your boot into the head of the creature as you pass it. Just to get your frustration out.

Both Leon and Chris wince at the action, Chris raising his brows to Leon who just shrugged a silent answer. "Have you spoken to the head of your organisation?" Chris asked Leon, who's hands rest on his hips at the question.

"Yeah.. He won't allow her to work in the office, I'll have to notify the president when I see him next."

"Why are you making the decisions for me?" You asked placing your gun in it's holster on your leg. "But I think it's the best bet we have of keeping it in me that way." Yes, you wanted to make the decision yourself, but Leon was right. You needed to be keeping your baby safe, not out on the field. Right now though, you had a job to do, and you intended on doing it.

Chris takes the both of you to their small camp, a few tents set up. One with medical supplies and a medic, two with bedding and a fourth with a scientist working on samples the team would acquire from the creatures and any Mold or parasite they would come across. A fire in the middle had 3 of his squad sitting around, eating some stew that hung beside the flames.

"Help yourself to some food." Chris offered as he sat down on a stump, picking up his own bowl he had placed aside once getting Hunnigan's call. "I was only notified a few hours ago that you had landed to help out."

You nod as Leon makes himself at home, picking up a bowl and starting to ladle stew into it. "We were recently notified of what was going on here as well, seems like you found more of the Mold, correct?" You asked sitting down beside the fire to warm up.

"Yeah, we traced it back to here, and to a new threat who calls herself Mother Miranda." Chris explains. "We've been keeping close tabs on the Winters family, as well as Miranda. Ethan and Mia seem to be doing fine, their baby Rose, is the one we have been keeping tabs on."

"The baby? Why her?" Leon asked, sitting down beside you with his food.

"Miranda has had this sick obsession to bring her own daughter back, we found a lab with her own research and personal files. With being infected by the Mold previously, we suspect she would try targeting their offspring as a perfect candidate."

You were silent for a while, watching the flames dance in the darkening light. The moon obscured by the clouds still letting the snow fall. It made sense she would want to be going after the baby if that was the case. "We will be checking in on the family tomorrow morning, I would like both of you to come. Maybe you could help us pick up some of this mess?"

"That's why we were sent here." You nod standing up and placing a hand on Leon's shoulder, using him to step over the log you were sitting on. "I'm going to head to bed." You state as you make your way towards the tent you and Leon had a sleeping bag each. Luckily they had many spare supplies. Taking off your boots you slip into the sleeping bag, it took a little while for it to warm up to your body temperature. Huddled in a ball you were soon accompanied by your husband, being silent in case you were asleep.

"This Miranda sounds like a handful, huh?" You speak up.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." Leon apologised as he snuggles up beside you, hoping to share his body warmth with you.

"I wasn't asleep." You say rolling to your back, your head turned towards Leon.

"You okay? You didn't eat anything."

"I just didn't feel hungry. You need to stop worrying about me, honey."

"I know.." Leon cranes his neck to press a kiss to your cool tipped nose. "I just don't like the fact that you're here."

"I know... Neither do I. But it sounds like if we can take down this Miranda bitch, and get rid of any parasite we should be golden."

"Let's hope it's that easy." Leon said snuggling into his sleeping bag, laying on his side facing you. You snuggle into his front, both of you falling asleep quickly after warming up.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders

[carolairdscigarette]

It seems that this image in Mother Miranda’s lab is Mia Winters, it is not confirmed but it appears to be her.

The nose, eyes, chin, lips are VERY similar. Now I will begin to state my own theories on this.

Mia in game tells Chris that Miranda had done experiments on her but never went into detail which type of experiments. What if Miranda put cadou on her? If this is the case, it would explain why Chris Redfield took Rose from Mia’s custody. The cadou makes the host very dangerous due to the mutations it causes and aggressive behavior. If Mia was infected with cadou, this means she probably became very dangerous to be around.

This would also explain why Mia’s eyes in 8 are suddenly blue when in 7 she has brown eyes which has been a mystery every since. Miranda, Alcina, and other cadou hosts have blue eyes.

- Pic from small_item on Twitter

Again, all of this is just a theory and in the end could result in just a reuse in character models but if Mia was really infected with cadou, a lot of stuff would begin to make sense.

- Picture in the right is Bela, the middle is the one that seems to be Mia Winters

[billy-cockblock]

REV AU one shot: Chris finds out

Crawls out of my hole covered in blood and mold: I don't know why this was so hard to write, but the writer's block is hitting me hard. I could see several parts of this scene so clearly in my head, but my brain just really didn't want to put words to paper. Once my brain's better I'll probably come and edit this a bit, but I hope y'all enjoy it. It's definitely one or the favorite scenes I've come up with.

He quickly lifted heavy limbs, picking them up from the ground. Leon’s vision had gone dark, but his rapidly came into focus. 

He fumbled for the gun dropped when they went flying, foreign hands finding familiar purchase against the metal. Taking aim, he let off a volley of shots at the monsters encroaching on them. 

They were tougher than infected he’d faced before; the center body of the strange knife-whipping tentacles needing to be basically shredded before they died, and bullet holes slowly sealed over with black tendrils if it wasn’t killed completely. 

He felt like he was wasting ammo, but it just took so many bullets to drop the monsters. The larger one that’d flung them across the room and slammed Leon’s head into a desk was getting closer, lumbering steps slow. He tried to shoot its head like the rest of them, but the gun only clicked.

He swore under his breath and pulled Leon’s knife out; he hated close-quarters combat, but he didn’t have time to reload. Diving past flailing, dangerous limbs, he buried the knife in its main body. It grabbed and sliced at them, but he kept stabbing and cutting until it was too shredded to keep moving. He shoved it with more strength than he was used to, and it fell to the ground, dead.

Head still on a swivel, he made sure there were no more infected. The room looked clear, but there were a few desks and filing cabinets something could hide behind. 

While he checked the room over, Ethan took a breath. He felt bad for having to break his promise of not taking control, but Leon wasn’t waking up in time. He’d pull back once Leon woke up, but it felt like he’d gotten a concussion with how hard he’d gotten his head hit. He spread his mold, stitching closed the scratches and scrapes Leon’s body had accrued. Skin and muscle was easy to regenerate, then pull his network from, and it’d almost become second nature since he’d gotten permission from Leon. 

Nerves were a little harder. The mold naturally liked to cling to the nervous system, trying to take control and upload a person’s consciousness to the megamycete. It preferred to envelop or take over nerves, and that took more coaxing from Ethan to get it to untangle. 

That’s why he was hesitating trying to do something about the concussion. He’d done his best to take control of Leon’s motor functions without getting the mold too tangled with his brain, but he’d have to root even deeper if he wanted to heal it. He subconsciously felt along his connection from the megamycete to the brain-

He froze. Damaged cartilage, more mold present, fractured vertebrae, and frayed nerves. A lot of frayed nerves. 

He reached for the back of Leon’s neck, both with the body’s hand and his mold. The joints in the spine felt like they’d been misaligned before snapping back into place, nearly severing Leon’s entire spinal cord. His brain still sent and received continuous waves of signals to and from the body, impulses carried across the gap by Ethan’s mold network tangling with Leon’s nervous system. 

Ethan felt like he was going to be sick. Or, as sick as he could feel in the state he was in. He didn’t think Leon hit his head that badly, but he guessed his neck did snap in a weird angle when they hit that desk. 

After the horrific stories Leon had told him, a desk is what would have done him in?

He tried to pull the nerve fibers back together, but the mold that had taken their places was stubborn. It had locked itself firmly in place to keep the cord from coming detached and shutting down Leon’s body functions. He’s glad it obeyed when he tried to program it to protect Leon without his input, but he needed the mold to move if he wanted to heal it enough that he could remove it. He’d have to work to remove his network from his nerves anyway, so he might as well work on healing the concussion. He could practically hear the megamycete sing in joy as he spread to repair the battering Leon’s brain had taken-

“Close call, huh?” a familiar voice asked from behind them, making him tense up. 

“Y-yeah, no kidding,” he replied, trying his best to speak like Leon. He nearly enveloped the man’s brain to speed his healing; he needed Leon awake now. 

“I got worried when I saw one of them toss you, but I knew you’d have it handled,” Chris Redfield continued, none the wiser that he wasn’t talking to the real Leon. Ethan could hear him do that dumb slow pace he does while talking, where he wouldn’t look at him; dramatic asshole. Leon would’ve been dead if he didn’t have the mold. “You aren’t hurt too bad, though? Or infected?”

“No, I’ve had worse,” he replied, echoing what Leon said every time he’d close his wounds. He did his best to keep casual while hiding every inch of skin he could. His dark veins under Leon’s skin were visible even on his hands, and Ethan was sure his face was worse. 

“True, but this is my case,” Chris stopped his pacing and sighed. “This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t lost control of E-003.” A bolt of white-hot anger flared through Ethan’s entire network, and he felt a tingle from Leon’s brain. “Someone got to her, and-“

“What did you call Rose?” a voice, distinctly not Leon’s, left his mouth. Ethan whirled around without thinking, face pinched in anger, before freezing, rage forgotten. 

He met Chris’s eyes for the first time in sixteen years, and it was like the horror and dread never left them since that day in Europe. 

Without breaking eye contact, Chris pulled his pistol from its holster but kept it trained on the ground. With his other hand, he clicked the radio on his shoulder.

“Redfield reporting,” his gravelly voice didn’t give anything away, but Ethan couldn’t let him finish. “Kennedy’s been-”

A pillar of mold extending from Leon’s arm slammed him in the shoulder and enveloped the radio. He rolled with the force and raised his gun. The bullets aimed straight for Leon’s head harmlessly embedded themselves in a thick, carapace-like shield formed on his other arm.

Ethan had to get them out of there. The door was behind Chris, but the windows behind them were busted. They were on the second floor, so climbing to the roof would be better.

With half a plan, he tried to form tendrils to drag them back while he kept guarding their front. The mold twisted up in the space the megamycete laid in and instead formed four long, spider-like legs from Leon’s back. 

Whatever, I can work with it, he thought, sending a tendril off his arm to pull Chris’s feet out from under him. He lifted them off the ground, pulling them back to the window. He found it with the limbs and hooked them outside the frame. He grew claws over Leon’s hands to scramble up the side, earning him a bullet to leg once his guard was dropped. He ignored Chris’s shouts as he climbed over the edge of the roof and jumped for another.

He strengthened his legs and used the spidery limbs to get him as far from Chris as he could. He wouldn’t let Leon get found out, he wouldn’t let him get killed, and he’d only stay until he knew Rose was safe. Now he just had to find a place to settle down enough to finish Leon’s healing.

A sudden stab of pain to his consciousness nearly sent him careening off a roof. He thought it might’ve been something from the megamycete trying to fight its way out before he heard him.

What the hell was that?! Leon mentally shouted; he was wrestling for control back to his body, and was doing a damn good job of it. You promised! And why did you attack Chris?!

Ethan pulled any mold back back from his skin and shoved control back so fast, Leon fell to his knees.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… he said on repeat. He felt Leon’s shoulders loose a little tension as he shakily stood to find cover behind an air conditioner. Once he’d gotten settled down, he laid a hand on his chest over where the megamycete rested.

“Hey,” he said, tapping his chest to get Ethan’s attention. “I feel like I missed something while I was out. Mind filling me in?”

[catluniscia]

Lady D Sinister Laugh

My Card where you can find my socials, where to buy my merch, and commission information, and places to support me like ko-fi  https://blackmoonrose13.carrd.co/ Speed paint: https://youtube.com/shorts/zrAfsmuiU9I It's No secret I love the classic anime snooty laugh...love it so much I can actually do it...can anime please just bring this back again?! So I due to other reasons, I thought about drawing more characters doing this and for some reason maybe because I wanted to draw Lady Dimitrescu again, I decided to draw her doing this laugh...because let's be honest if this was an anime she would do that laugh either at Heisenberg for reasons, or because she wants to scare Ethan Winters...I am gonna be honest hearing her laugh somewhere in her very echo chamber like home would be kinda frightening. Someone find out if the Voice Actress has done that laugh, if not someone get her to! Just ah would love to hear it...anyway here is Lady Dimitrescu doing a laugh she so rightfully would do. All hail the queen For Sale here: https://CatLunisciaCreations.threadless.com/designs/lady-dimitrescu-sinister-laugh https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/162239455?asc=u https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/blackmoonrose13/lady-dimitrescu-sinister-laugh/ https://www.teepublic.com/poster-and-art/61804205-lady-dimitrescu-sinister-laugh

[alxndryngs]

Shadows of Redemption: A Dance with Darkness.

Chapter three:

Family is Everything.

(LINK)

------

Chapter summary:

Tabitha has a moment of realisation, and Alcina one of crisis.

------

Under normal circumstances, the maids would beg for hours on end as Alcina terrified and tormented them, and her three daughters would laugh at their patheticness in the background before she would send them off to play with the chosen maid until they felt satisfied. Alcina would then scold them at supper for not cleaning themselves up, they’d scurry off and apologise, and Alcina sipped her wine with a small smile. 

But not this time. Today, someone was not begging for their life. They were begging to help her, despite the monster she found herself to be. Despite the huge, and as she thought, ugly wings that hung from her back. And despite the mutual dislike, this person wanted to help her. 

Tabitha was witness to tears flooding the woman’s eyes before she spoke. 

“Not until I have my family back.”

[vvyvernicus]

Kathryn Marlow

Caution: Very lengthy OC description and AU below.

Born on October 12th, 1978, Kat was human until 19 when she unconsciously underwent a dubious experimentation that altered her DNA. Kat lived in England most of her youth until 14 when she ran away from home and took to wandering Europe. Without any goals or hopes for a happy future, Kat roamed from place to place, surviving by shoplifting.

In 1997, Kat found herself wanted for minor crimes across several European countries. Not wanting to be confined to a jail cell for the rest of her days, she decided that she wanted to make one last trip to a country she had yet to explore nearby. She made her way to Romania and decided that she wanted to find a scenic and secluded place high up in the mountains. Once she found a good place, she attempted to take her life via a painless overdose.

Little did she know that someone would find her...

Upon meeting Miranda, Kat is understandably confused and worried. The drugs she took weren't supposed to cause hallucinations. She does notice that her entire body feels strange though, like sharp pains coursing through her. When she finally comes to her senses, instead of escaping, she converses with her captor. It doesn't take her long to realize that something happened to her while unconscious.

She immediately forms a distaste for Miranda, but ends up staying as she sees no other choice. Whatever was done to her changed her enough that she didn't pass as human anymore. She still looked human, but she didn't know the extent of the damage done. All she could do was pretend to be obedient for now. For some reason, she found her brain working at a somewhat increased rate than it had before...

Initially, Kat's hair used to be longer. Upon the first few days of meeting Miranda, she was already put off by her. That increased by a significant margin when Miranda acted more affectionate towards her. It was Kat's breaking point when Miranda went as far as rubbing her hand against her head and complimenting how lovely her hair was. After that, Kat sliced it off herself in a fit of rage, disgusted by Miranda with hopes that doing this would prevent actions like this from happening in the future.

She regularly cuts it to keep it shorter. Since it's been short for so long, she has grown to prefer it due to convenience. Grooming hair is no longer a hassle for her.

Upon learning of Miranda's true intentions, with the hopes of using her body as a potential host for her daughter Eva, Kat hits a breaking point. The idea disgusts her so much that she plots on how to avoid this at all costs. She learns that a vessel must be perfect without flaws. So she begins closely monitoring herself to see if there was anything she could use to her advantage.

It doesn't take Kat long to see that since she was changed, she started suffering from gruesome nightmares that blended her past and other monstrosities together. Using this, she explains the situation to Miranda, while also intentionally behaving oddly, as if lack of sleep was greatly affecting her. 

When Miranda deemed her an unfit host, Kat thought it meant she would be sent to death. It didn't bother her, as it was her original plan to die. But Miranda insured that she had a use for Kat. Begrudgingly, Kat was welcomed into the "family" as the 5th Lord.

Kat refuses to call Miranda "Mother Miranda". Instead, she refers to her as "Miss Miranda". 

Like the other Lords, Kat was given an area of her own, albeit much smaller. It was a lab that overlooked the reservoir that had been semi abandoned by Moreau. Initially, the lab is in poor condition, being filled with dirt, moisture and slime residue. So, Kat persuaded Miranda to allow her take  ten villagers to work for her. Kat wanted more, but knew that ten was the maximum she'd get out of Miranda to start with.

Kat and her new workers worked side by side to restore the lab to liveable conditions. Although, it was more for the health of the non mutated humans as their immune systems were more fragile. Once the lab was clean, Kat assigned them numerous jobs. Some prioritized the construction and restoration of facilities while others were to help in the lab. For a steady supply of food, Kat assigned those with less aptitude in the lab to be gardeners. 

Kat's experiments were public knowledge, thanks to the watching eyes of Miranda. The main experiments were the study of the cadou, without using it to infect helpless villagers. She sought to gain a deeper understanding of the properties. Her true end goal finding a way to cure the Lycans, as well as removing the drawbacks the cadou brought to it's more fortunate hosts. Even though she thought Miranda was lost to her own madness, she thought that there was still hope for the other Lords.

Initially to the villagers, most were skeptical of Kat as a new lord. She was lanky, short and didn't come from a special background. She was just an outsider to them. Still they treated her with basic respect and didn't dare question Miranda's choice.

In addition to the workers in her lab, Kat was always eager to snatch up more people from the village. She couldn't do it whenever she wanted though. So if there was ever a villager sick, she'd take them to cure them under the exchange the cured villager (or a volunteer go in their place) was to work for her in her lab. Same if a villager acted out of line and rebelled against Miranda. To spare them from death, she'd injure them, then request them for her own experiments. She'd then help them recover once in the safety of the lab and give them a job.

Her workers idolize her and think she is benevolent, but she is quick to shut down any mentions of worshipping her, like others do to Miranda. She maintains boundaries with villagers and her own workers, not wanting to seem too kind. If she was too kind, Miranda would notice and potentially kill all of those who looked up to Kat. She'll criticize their mistakes, but offers them shelter, food, and safety as payment for their work.

Kat is the only Lord allowed to leave the village; under the contract that she is to inform Miranda, not leave Romania, leave for more than two weeks and also bring back information useful to succeeding Miranda's goals.

When initially given this privilege, Kat considered leaving immediately, never to return. But she quickly realized that she'd never fit back into regular society. She couldn't as a human, so how could she as a monster? Even if she could escape, it would be a matter of time before she was captured and used in some other experiment.

Kat occasionally goes to more modern towns to scope them out and see if anything noteworthy has happened, since the village is so isolated. She'll visit stores, the local libraries or simply wander to wherever her legs take her. Being away from the village is refreshing, yet she always worries deep down. One of Miranda's threats to keep her returning was to harm her lab workers and render them inefficient.

She is able to slip into homes of those she knows will be away for a while. In these homes, she likes to pull out her smartphone that she bought from a second hand store. Due to Miranda's rules, she can't bring it inside the village, or else the others "risk corruption". So this is the only time she can safely do research, but more importantly, listen to music.

The smartphone is always stashed closer to the village, but far enough away to not allow it to be found. 

Aside from inside her laboratory, Kat's second preffered place to be inside the village is none other than the reservoir her laboratory overlooks. The murky waters and the dilapidated buildings sunk under the water add to the charm. In her opinion at least. It's relaxing and quiet most of the time. Even if the smell takes a bit to get used to at first.

Naturally being at the reservoir often includes seeing Salvatore Moreau. Initially, just like with the other Lords and Miranda, Kat is very cautious and untrusting of him. But with time, he becomes the one she can open up to most. Not to say the two of them don't have their differences.

As Kat despises Miranda, she dislikes Moreau's obsession with her. She pities him and likens it to Stockholm syndrome considering he's stuck there with nowhere else to go. He's another reason she wants to eliminate Miranda from her position. With her gone, there would be nothing standing in her way of perfecting a cure for his and the other's misfortunes.

She notices the little things that the others overlook in regards to him. Despite the signs of mental degradation, she can still see signs of intelligence trying to break free and most of his emotional intelligence is still intact—although scarred. She'll sometimes sneak old movies back with her to add to his collection on her outings. Her friendship with her both disgusts and bewilders the other Lords.

Kat has a relatively neutral relationship with the other Lords. Dimitrescu sees her as weak and small; meanwhile her daughters are disgusted by her "lack of purity". Heisenberg is suspicious of her, but treats her slightly better than the others which isn't saying much. Donna enjoys her presence and will occasionally invite her to tea in her mansion, but remains a bit wary of her still.

Normally, Kat is composed and rational despite being severely sleep deprived. But there are times when she has moments she snaps. However, not in the form of angry outbursts.

When Kat is truly enraged, she keeps her calm demeanor. Her voice grows stiffer and more coarse. The words that she uses come out laced with venom and honest intent. She intends to act out any threats made as they are not empty words used to instill fear in someone.

Kat inherited new abilities and disadvantages when a cadou was implanted inside her. The most notable being her enhanced brain activity, allowing her to use more of her brain at a time and multitask far easier than the average human. She now picked up skills faster and understood concepts that used to be foreign to her. When learning Romanian, it took her little time to speak fluently.

This differentiates from one of Miranda's powers. While Miranda acquired the knowledge of other individuals to use to her advantage, Kat's own brainpower underwent improvements. This allowed her base personality to stay mostly the same without being influenced by other voices.

Her other abilities are cleverly hidden as they are quite easy to conceal. Kat has sensory based clairvoyant powers that allow her to take glimpses into the future by touching specific objects that will play a role in that event. She can do the same with finding out events in the past. This process is taxing when she is intentionally trying to activate the ability and gives her a headache, so she limits to a few minutes a day. It can also happen at random, but these are much less likely to occur; she usually feels dizzy afterwards.

A more minor ability inherited was her overall perception. Because of this she can get a good read of someone and know what type of person they are (if a normal human). She uses this to her advantage in conversations to always tread lightly.

Kat can also transform into a more monstrous form like all lords aside from Donna. This turns her into a large quadruped that resembles a peacock. It has yellow glowing eyes on the face, as well as on other parts of the body; slightly resembling Moreau's. 

The abilities are uncontrollable and affect her mentally. While in the form, Kat can allegedly read the minds of everyone present within a half mile radius. With all the thoughts flooding into her mind, she is unable to think straight. However the form is much stronger physically and can do fatal damage to any attacker. A side effect of this power is while she can read minds, others can occasionally get glimpses into her own thoughts as well.

Kat hates this form and will only use it as a last resort. She remarks that she has little control over it as it consumes her. But she can remember everything that happens afterwards. 

Because of her nightmares, Kat is never fully rested. She can only sleep up to two hours before the nightmares settle in. Never fully rested, she appears weaker and lethargic. Her mind still retains its sharpness.

To combat the nightmares, she sleeps in a hammock and sets it up to rock itself. In doing so she believes that the nightmares are easier to recover from when awakening. Additionally, she finds that music can make the nightmares much less intense. But she has difficulty playing music in her laboratory bedroom as Miranda would grow suspicious of why she needed it. As if the nightmares could be nullified, Kat may be seen as the ideal host. 

On rarer occasions, when she is desperate to see something to completion but is too exhausted, she'll take more extreme measures to keep herself awake. Sometimes to the concern (and horror) of her workers that bear witness to it. 

Just like with humans, caffeine affects Kat in a positive energizing way. To her it's like a miracle potion that keeps her awake for longer, evading nightmares and being more productive.

To not seem weak in front of the others, she doesn't consume it in front of them. She buys bags in small quantities when away from the village to smuggle back with her. The beans are hoarded for days where she really needs an energy boost.

One of the first things she does while on leave from the village is purchase a specialty drink. She's not a fan of sugar or cream and prefers the stronger varieties.

The idea of romance alludes Kat almost entirely. Perhaps due to her upbringing, she doesn't see the point in flowery words or romantic fairytales. She sees them as fake and not meant for those like her. While she had experienced many "lovers", there were none who she was attached to or wanted to be with romantically.

Her apathetic view on love contrasts greatly with her friend Moreau. From the very first movie they watched together, she knew that he was what some would call a "hopeless romantic." It took everything she had not to mock the idealistic ideas of love that the media portrayed. Especially not after she saw how happy those silly films made him.

She's content with simple bonds without the overtly dramatic displays of affection. Or so she assures herself. Deep down she wants to be cherished and cared for. But she doesn't know the best ways to go about it.

••••••

Hope you enjoyed reading about this character of mine if you made it this far! She was just too interesting to keep bottled up in my brain. I'm not sure if I'll write a full fledged fanfiction with her. Perhaps I'll write small snippets and scenes at the very least in the future.

[emcads]

thinking so much about like. the parallels in the aristocratic structure of res8 and potc vis-a-vis the lords. the gendered structure of the title. assuming power tied to binding someone in a human form. the isolation that cannot sustain its barrier and bleeds outer society in, to the outside world's rejection and disgust.

[grannanna]

Dinner thoughts

ALCINA ABSOLUTELY MADE FUN OF KARL GOING THROUGH PUBERTY WHILE IN THE VILLAGE

[kaistrashbin]

That's literally the cadou

[dildopamine]

you ever meet someone who wants to talk about one of your hyperfixations but they are so wrong

[the-forgotten-lycan]

Character Profile

The Basics

Name: Alexandria Dines

Age: 31

Eye Color:  Golden Brown - her pupils slitted like cats.

Height: 5′ 8′’

Hairstyle: Short and soft, buzzed short on the sides and long on the top. A bit messy and tomboyish.

Clothing Style: T-shirts or button up shirts suit Alex best. She’ll be caught often wearing black jeans or dress slacks. Normally she’ll wear boots or dress shoes. Alexandria likes to keep it classy in her unique boyish style. She wears rings on her fingers and small hoop earrings in along her cartledge. 

Nails: Monsterous - cat like, sharp, black and razor sharp. Little Murder Mittens.

Teeth: Alexandria has little upper and lower fangs, mutations for ripping and tearing at flesh.

Intricacies

Carrier of the Cadou: Yes, Alexandria carries the Cadou, a side experiment of Mother Miranda. Of all the attempted Lycan vessels, one survived, her body accepted the parasite, and the Cadou accepted the host. Rather than displaying the normal wolfish qualities Alexandria took more Feline qualities, with the ability to mutate into a monsterous feline beast. However, despite the success of her mutation, Alex fails to be the perfect host, with her hunger for flesh and her inability to disconcern between human and beastial instincts.

Fears: Losing control of her monsterous side. Losing her sense of self. Mother Miranda. Cages or confined spaces. 

Guilty Pleasures: Partaking in the consumption of flesh.