#also longer hair Heisenberg is lovely

[cedarsmoke4]

God’s perfect killing machine has the most luscious lips known to man

#karl heisenberg #resident evil village #re8 village #mechanic au #cedar doodles #I’m exhausted rn and I’ve been staring at this for too long so *slaps it down* bed head Heisenberg #also please for the love of all that is holy please stop giving this poor man abs #you know he’d sit around munching on tasty food and drinking beer if he had the chance #give him a little redemption tummy #he deserves to gain a little weight after his ordeal #he probably survived solely on cigars and whiskey until Ethan showed up and murked Miranda #let him be healthy and happy #let him have a donut and a nap #also longer hair Heisenberg is lovely #very much enjoying it #haystack king

[youthereader]

Near Zero part 7

PAIRING: cillian murphy as j. robert oppenheimer x fem!reader

SUMMARY: 1.4k words. Brought on as part of the Manhattan Project, your old physics professor sees you in a new light.

RATING: E; barebacking, oral (f receiving), infidelity, age gap (10+ years), secret relationship

A/N: Although based on real life characters, this is J. Robert Oppenheimer as played by Cillian Murphy, a fictional character, and does not intend to be accurate. This is merely for entertainment. This is the second of two parts in Santa Fe. Essentially filler. Also shoutout to @goldcoastsunset for being such a sweetie about this fic, it helped a lot.

masterlist

You wake, short bursts of light over several seconds – your eyelids fluttering in a sunbeam – sensing Robert beside you. He absently puffs at the lit cigarette between his lips as he reads the newspaper.

You draw in a breath and he glances down at you, small smile forming. He’s naked like you, his bare legs crossed at the ankles under the thin sheet that covers you both.

You sit up, eyeing the newspaper.

“Reading about Naples,” he murmurs.

“Anything good?” you reply, snatching up a matchbook from the side table. You turn it over, snapping off a match to light a cigarette you retrieve from your pack.

“Uprisings.”

You nod, thinking of Mussolini. Then Churchill, then Roosevelt. You suddenly wish you were back in Los Alamos working, but shut your eyes against it, attempting to squash it.

“We can talk about it here,” he adds, and you meet his eye again. “To an extent.”

You hesitate, chewing your lip, cigarette smoke rising. You take a puff, exhaling roughly.

“It would help me sleep at night if we knew how close Heisenberg was to building a bomb.”

Robert gives a single knowing nod. The silence that descends between you is not uncommon, and in this case, not unwelcome. You muse, smoking away until he’s finished reading and folds his newspaper. He taps your bare arm with it, a corner of it brushing your nipple.

“You slept quite peacefully just now,” he murmurs.

“I wonder why.” You twist slightly to put your cigarette out, moving back to give him your full attention, shifting to lie on your side.

His eyes dip to your topless upper half once more, and you love that mischievous streak of his. He brings it out of you, too, with so little effort.

“Robert.”

“Yes, darling?” he says.

“May we fuck again?”

He laughs, looking down, and then puts his own cigarette out. He moves closer to you, hand brushing your bare stomach. He feigns a seriousness.

“Yes, I suppose we could…”

You kiss him for once, not wanting to wait a second longer. He smiles into it, your lip between his two, and then he takes over, his hands deep in your hair as he rolls you onto your back. Your legs spread and you sigh, your hands on his sides, rubbing up and down. Your nails sink into his back when he kisses your neck, warmth spreading to your toes.

You glance down at your naked bodies, the way his cock stands to attention already, so eager. It’s the third time you’ve done this today. You experiment with your nails, digging in, and he grunts, retaliating with a nip to your shoulder.

“Please,” you whisper.

He kisses you hard, kisses you until you pull away to breathe, and he shuffles down your chest, his fingers splayed on your stomach. You meant to beg him to fuck you, but he hasn’t done this today yet, moving down to kiss your mound, thumb you open to lick up the cut of you.

You gasp at the first contact of his mouth, heels digging into the mattress. You think you might combust if you look at him for too long, his eyes swinging up to meet yours. Your plea dies on your lips as he buries his face in your cunt, tongue spearing you as he wraps his arms around your thighs, keeping them open.

“Oh…”

Your hand finds the back of his head, attempting to anchor yourself to the Earth, unable to keep the sounds inside anymore. You moan, remembering to shut your mouth, which seems to only encourage Robert’s talented mouth.

The pleasure rolls over you, a cresting wave, and you come, hips lifting off the bed as your back arches. The sound you make is strangled and muffled behind your hand but undeniable.

He pulls back with slow kisses to your inner thighs, mouth glistening when he ascends to meet you in a rough kiss. The filthiness of it emboldens you, makes you push against him to shove him onto his back, your leg over him in a second.

You pant together, your hand on his cock, pumping him as you share another hasty kiss.

“Darling—”

His words are cut off when you take him to the hilt, his eyes rolling back for a beat before he regains control, his hands vices on your thighs as you begin to ride. He stares up at you as you take everything from him, your hands on his chest, feeling his hammering heart beneath your fingers.

You wish you could do this forever. Heartbreakingly, this might be the last time for a while before you can have this time alone. You lean over him, sharing a breath as your mouths don’t quite shut in filthy kiss after filthy kiss.

You’re hurting yourself, loving this with him. The damage you have done is too much.

You sense his end, sweat on your skin, unsure of whose it is. You pull back enough for him to slip out of you and wrap your hand around him, bringing him off, his arms curled around you. You think of the mess, smelling your shared arousal, knowing it will be there for hours.

Yet it’s not enough. It may never be enough. Your throat tightens at the thought, and you attempt to pull away, but his arms lock you in.

“Stay there,” he whispers. “Stay.”

For the first time, your eyes sting with emotion. What stirs inside you can’t be let free, not now. It would ruin this weekend with him. You shake your head, before melting back into a kiss you share.

-

Robert plays with his empty pipe on the tablecloth, nodding every so often as a fellow scientist talks. Your own conversation with Feynman is quite alike. You are both struggling to concentrate.

You cut Feynman off suddenly, glancing up at a waiter that passes by the table.

“Excuse me, may I have another drink?”

The waiter nods at your empty martini glass and then departs, your focus back on Feynman.

He snorts. “They’re weak.”

“Compared to Los Alamos, of course,” you reply with a smirk. “One day someone’s going to go blind in that town from all the homemade gin.”

Feynman gives a shrug, before resuming his long-winded tale. You half listen, watching Robert. He pauses and looks your way, your eyes meeting.

“Yes,” he says absently. “But it’s getting quite late. I should head off soon.”

He only elaborates once your martini arrives, and the waiter is out of earshot. You pick up your drink, taking a steady gulp.

“Have another one, Oppie,” Feynman says.

Robert gives a little shake of his head, eyes on you again. He gives the table a short tap with his pipe.

“I’m off to Chicago in the morning.”

Your whole night has been like this, dreading the end, though it hadn’t been that entertaining. Everyone was sluggish at dinner, despite there being such a fuss about it, leading up to this visit. Santa Fe is wonderful, but your mind is elsewhere.

“May I walk you back to the hotel?” Robert asks, pulling you back from your reverie.

“Yes,” you say, and pick up your drink, draining it.

You’re past caring about whether or not there’s an excuse for Robert walking you back to the hotel. Feynman and the others near your part of the table seem to have moved on as well, by how they settle back into conversations. You rise from your chair, following Robert out.

Being invisible, being less than to some of these men, works out for you.

-

Robert takes your hand when you’re on your floor. He walks you back to your room, only letting you go when you unlock the door, both of you slipping inside. He doesn’t remove his coat, lingering by the door.

There’s a mirror beside you, above the dish you place your hotel key in with a clatter. Your eyes meet Robert’s mirror self and he looks sadder.

He moves to your side, so you face the mirror together. He then takes off his hat, placing it on your head, his arm around your shoulders.

“Look at us,” he says.

You both smile at one another. You know you miss one another already by the way his smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He is somewhere else, like you, endlessly thinking.

“Look at us,” you whisper, an echo.

-

It is easy to be busy once you return to Los Alamos. You bristle when Teller argues with someone with abandon and you hunch over your desk with a perpetual cigarette, jittery with too much bad coffee.

You’re lonely, but you’re often too tired to notice it. A couple days after Santa Fe, you tear open a letter marked from your mother, but recognise the writing easily as Robert’s.

You are in my dreams.

Ooh boy. I'm gearing you up for future angst. It obviously gets much worse. But hopefully you still stick with this story! Let me know if you enjoyed it. Reblogs and replies really encourage me. 🥺❤️

Taglist: @indulgence-be-thy-name @forgottenpeakywriter (hmu if you'd like to be added)

#j robert oppenheimer #near zero #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #fem reader #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer x y/n

[reddogf13]

scene from fanfic in progress "pride & ruin"

its an alpha/ omega one, but without the usual domestic violence lore or the anatomy swappage. has way more fluff and on the lines of hurt/comfort. i call it alpha/omega for vanilla people or alpha/omega "diet flavor". this scene was also written down out of order, so some bits may change, but overall i like how it is.

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

Alcina stared into the destroyed mirror. The glow of her eyes caught in the reflection of the glass. Looking back at her miserable self sitting alone in the dark. Why am I not enough? Looking over her knuckles left bleeding from punching the vanity mirror. Was it worth it? … Well, Heisenberg is gone. Softly smiling about it. Her lovely landscape view was always tainted by the black smoke of Karl's running factory, but now no longer. No more meetings with him, or anyone. No one can call me useless, worthless, a disappointment. These are my lands now and I doubt Donna will challenge me for the title. She sighed at the dreadful feeling sinking in again. Ethan was still here, she wanted him to leave already. But wasn't about to chase him out. Why bother, to make the position available? Could I find another omega out there? Should I take the time to travel? She shut her eyes until a plik noise had her look down. Growling at her bloody side dripping down to the floor. Great, hate getting blood on the carpet. She stood from her small stool, Heading out into the darkened hall down to the large cleaning closet. Grabbing a handful of gauze rolls to return with.

Ethan had been wandering the dark castle for not too long. Having no goal of where to go, but hope his buzzing thoughts would be silenced. His sleep had been thrown off since after Miranda's death. Questioning weather it was anxiety or for other reasons. Alcina had left him alone since Donna gave his official rejection. He was expected to move on eventually, it be rude not to. Hogging an important omega position that another could take. He wanted to, it'd be better for him and rose if he did. Yet, a part of him was regretting his answer. Her scent was gone from the omega den. He missed the bonding talks, her gentle care to calm his nerves. He felt alone, even with the girls still happy to hang around. He avoided the alpha for as long as he could and now all he wanted was her attention.

He tossed and turned in his bed for hours. Moving rosemary to the nursery, thinking. No point in both of us going without sleep. Tossing and turning alone under the layers for a while longer. Tired of that he left the room to wander the castle. He stopped at a crossing hall when he heard her approaching steps. Shrinking slightly against the nearby wall when she came into view. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in more relaxed presentation. A short sleeved buttoned up nightshirt of varying grays that draped to her hips. Matching baggy pants went down to cover a pair of simple black slip on shoes. Her hair flowed down loosely into wavy curls ending at her shoulders. Her beauty captivated him, as always, into staying speechless. Keeping quiet when her eyes flicked onto him. A golden glow from them catching the minimal light.

Spotting him immediately in the darkness between them. She stopped to ask. “why are you up?”

he swallowed before answering. “couldn't sleep. … why are you?” trying not to over step in asking. He cast his eyes down from hers. He didn't know how she'd still be taking the rejection.

“Bandages. ... Do you need anything?”

“No, I'm fine.” Ethan studied her hands without their usual gloves for cover. He saw the start of her sharp black nails along with the oddity of her finger tips being black as if frost bitten. Maybe ts just an illusion from the shadows. Concerned about the fresh blood on her knuckles, but he didn't ask about it. carefully glancing over he did spot another concerning issue. The edge of a large bloody patch at her side. From his angle he couldn't tell exactly how big. A plip noise hit the cool marble floor, now marked by a drop of blood. Following where she came from he could see a small trail highlighted by the moonlit windows.

She glanced back just as he did. Scowling at the mess she was trailing. “you should return to bed.” stepping past the crossing halls to leave Ethan alone.

leaving the way she was had Ethan's anxiety spike. She cant be left like that. “can I help?” he offered before she got too far.

She stopped to looked back. “If you wish.” giving him the grace of catching up to her side before continuing.

#resident evil village #ethan winters #alcina dimitrescu #i cant post my fanfics until a chunk of it is finished! #posts things like this #Ethan x Alcina #alcithan

[romantichore]

tag 9 people you want to know better

I was tagged by @thebutterflyandthedragon and @thequeenofthewinter - thank you for the tag! 💜

3 ships: choosing only three is difficult! we'd have to go like, three per fandom minimum. but let's see, OC/Farkas, OC/Heisenberg, and this is cheatin' because it's not a single ship but all of the OC / OC ships I have/have had with the mutuals. the 5+ year old ones, the recent ones, the ones that are still to come, they're all my faves. people come and go, seasons may change, but the obsession with your friends' OCs is forever 😌

1st ever ship: I only realized this much much later but my first ever ship was, ugh, a celebrity ship when I was like, 7. worst part is that it did come true but ended horribly. good experience though, taught me real quick that real people shipping is yikes territory lol

last song: Fruta Fresca - Carlos Vives

last movie: I'm pree sure it was Thor - Love & Thunder? I'm not at all a fan of watching anything longer than like, 20min

currently reading: Encyclopedia of Spirits by Judika Illes

currently watching: in all technicality, I never finished season 2 of the Witcher nor Sandman so those? it's been months though

currently consuming: peaches in syrup, I'm told by google that's what we call it in english? lol

currently craving: candied cashews 😩

before I tag peeps, I was also tagged by @heisenhowler (thank you! 💜) to create myself in this picrew so let's do that one too and we'll tag everyone together!

we have reached the not-quite-copper-not-quite-brown haired virgil era and I'm loving it

tagging: (no pressure, ofc!) @thequeenofthewinter, @thebutterflyandthedragon, @heisenhowler, @quietplaceinthestars, @njadastonearm, @kojira, @ifrija, @aelyosos, @maniac-reboggles and @penquinlori 😌

#virgil memes #*sends out a kiss* for the mutuals #double meme so you can meme while you meme #or do the one you haven't done

[wintersandthebeast]

24. Rain

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Link to Master List

(images are from vhenan_virabelisan on instagram...and this photo of ethan inspired this entire story, so you can thank her for that lol)

Karl’s eyes closed against the incoming kiss, and after Ethan had uttered I trust you , he felt an unexpected welling of tears behind closed lids.  Trust?  Karl was a killer--he was a monster, created by another monster--and unlike his time spent in the other place with Ethan, Karl on this earth had a cadou.  He had animal instincts.  It was one of many reasons he isolated himself for years.  Indulgence was infrequent, calculated, and still often ended poorly, for his lack of social skills paired with his rough handling and altered DNA made for a man not created for love or tenderness or--

Ethan was pressing into him, desperate in his own way.  Karl still had one hand to the other man’s throat, the other uncertainly lingering by his side.  But his fingers curled into a fist and he flexed his fingers as he sensed something else.  Fear?  The engineer pulled back and nearly jerked Winters upright, turning the man’s throat in his hand and inhaling deeply.  As though he could intake his very essence.  

Something had happened; Karl didn’t know what, but he felt and smelled the terror coming from the other man.  Whatever had scared him, Ethan had called Karl to him.  And was now begging for Karl to consummate their relationship, despite always keeping his distance before.  Despite having no memory recovery of their previous time together.  

After Karl drank in the scent of the other man, his yellow eyes scanned the room.  He could feel the unease.  Some leftover fragments in Ethan’s mind, perhaps.  He slid his hand from Ethan’s throat down to his shoulder and made his mind up quickly.  Ethan wanted him?  Karl didn’t take much convincing, and although he was loath to submit to his own feral instinct, he also loved the power…he’d dreamed of taking Ethan since he’d seen the man.  Even before they officially met. 

“Not here,” he growled, and pulled Ethan out of bed after him. 

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

Ethan stumbled along the darkened hallway feeling both trepidation and excitement…but that was all he ever felt around Karl, wasn’t it?  The other moved with all the energy and loudness of a freight train through the hallway.  When they reached the kitchen the metal objects began to rattle and Ethan’s heart doubled in speed.  Karl grabbed something unseen from his now-repaired-dining-table-workbench, and then dragged Ethan out the door. 

Ethan wanted to protest.  He was barefoot.  So was Karl.  The moon was hidden by rain clouds, and the light from the manor didn’t reach very far into the expanse of the garden.  Now the fear returned.  Was Karl really going to drag him into the woods?  Weren’t there wolves?  Other animals?  Ethan was propelled by his own feet and the vice grip Heisenberg had on him as they descended into the stone walled gardens, some of which overlooked the west mountains, away from the village remains.  

Now the dim light turned into darkness, and Ethan blinked when Heisenberg sat on an overgrown stone slab boundary, yanking the blond onto his lap and taking control of the back of Ethan’s neck, hands grasping at the short strands of hair as he pulled Ethan’s mouth down onto his own.  Rain chilled Ethan’s skin when he leaned forward.  When he shivered, he felt the wave of heat again…Karl, too much of a match for even the biting cold of late Romanian winter.  

The passionate moment was punctuated by the rain, but also with Karl raking his hands down Ethan’s back in a less-than-gentle way.  Ethan’s sixth sense was mixing with Karl now, unwillingly.  He could feel the anticipation, the almost-giddiness.  Almost out of time.  Can’t hold back much longer.  Can’t hurt him.  Get him ready.  

The searing pain from Karl’s hands and the warmth from his body were interrupted with other flickers.  The flashbacks.  

Ethan’s senses were too overloaded to process the where or what of the flashbacks.  They weren’t unpleasant, he simply felt as though he were dissociating from this moment and into other moments where Karl held him.  Where he should have felt fear from Karl’s uncertain grip on self control, Ethan simply felt anticipation.  

Karl had dropped whatever he was holding, and his hands simply grabbed Ethan over and over, running along his back, ribs, digging into his thighs and dragging the other’s groin over his own.  Ethan whimpered into the kiss when he rubbed against Karl’s hardness.  This whimper seemed to push Heisenberg further along, because he grabbed Ethan by the shoulders and instantly they were both off the bench and onto the ground.  

Wet, cold grass rubbed against Ethan’s entire back, piercingly cold, and he almost cried out from the sensation.  But in another instant he heard fabric ripping and realized Karl was tearing his clothes off.  The man writhed, attempting to assist the other in removing everything.  Moments later they were both naked in the rain, Karl crawling up and over Ethan, his eyes glowing faintly.  

Ethan heard the clanking of a chain--one of the things Karl had picked up, he realized, as the magnetized iron shot up and looped around Ethan’s wrists.  His arms were thrown up over his head and he stared up in a strange state of fascination at the restraints.  When Ethan tugged against the chain, it stayed put, as though it weighed hundreds of pounds.  Somehow the submission pacified Winters and his body relaxed despite being chilled with rain. 

Now Karl poured something onto himself, his hands, Ethan’s crotch…oil? The blond bit his lip to keep from gasping, but moments later Karl’s rough hand slid down to stroke him, a growl in the other man’s chest.  Karl was, if possible, breathing faster and harder than Ethan as he pushed a finger tentatively inside the other.  Ethan’s lip now wasn’t sufficient to keep him silent and he grunted, then moaned loudly.  

Suddenly Karl’s hand was back on his throat, stifling the moan and turning Ethan’s face to the side.  He could smell the damp earth, the frosted grass, as Karl’s wet hair fell into the crook of his shoulders.  The older man was muttering to himself rather than Ethan, low notes of German as he licked and tasted Ethan’s flesh.  His breath was hot, his tongue demanding and his bite barely restrained.  Ethan struggled against the chain, wanting to embrace the engineer, run his fingers up the other’s back, but when he found he couldn’t move his arms, his hips instead came up to beseech the man for more. 

With an angry, gruff sound Karl pulled away, withdrawing his fingers and sitting up, the look in his eyes as he stared down at the blond hungrier than ever.  He’d wanted Ethan this way since watching the stubbornness, the fire, of the other months ago.  Wanted to take all of the other’s need for control, for safety, and turn him into something else--something dependent, something that answered to another.  Give him respite from the responsibility that plagued his very being.  Tear it all down.  

And build something else back. 

Karl’s hands clawed into the dirt as he pushed forward, his tip at Ethan’s entrance, his face a foot over Ethan with tangled hair hiding most of his dangerously hungry expression.  He tried to smile, but it turned out as a snarl, as he teased and pushed further.  Below him Ethan still writhed, hips bucking up in a silent beg.  The man’s face was an expression of lust that if anything matched Karl’s--the only nagging fear lingered in his eyes.  They were wide, white shining in the dark, betraying his uncertainty despite his trust in the other. 

Karl could feel Ethan’s cock against his lower stomach as he pressed, teasing them both, and now the snarl did transform into a smile, only momentarily.  They were both slick with the oil and now dripping from the rain.  Hand around the other’s throat, feeling familiar now, feeling right.  Ethan’s eyes closed against it as though he too found it reassuring.  

In a barely intelligible voice Karl issued, “Look at me,” before grasping Ethan’s hair with his other hand.  His command was followed and the man’s wide eyes now fluttered as Karl moved the hand on Ethan’s neck to cover his mouth.  Then Karl sank in deeply, pushing with his hips until he was buried in the other man.  Though he craved to let instinct take over completely he held back, pausing with a grunt while Ethan writhed and spasmed.  He knew he was wide, and was trying to allow the other time to get used to him.  But his breath became even more ragged and began puffing around them in a cloud of steam as Ethan moaned behind the hand, his eyes continually fluttering shut. 

“I said, look at me,” Karl growled, with a tug at Ethan’s hair, and now Winters’ eyes flew open again.  Karl pulled back out, his own lids heavy with the sensation of the other man clenching around him.  His heart hammered when Ethan continued to obey, the whimpering moans intensifying as he again had to adjust to the absence of Karl inside him.  His eyes were steady now.  

Talking meant Heisenberg was still in control, meant that he could hold on and not lose to instinct, so he continued, his eyes dancing with pride at Winters’ eye contact.  The fear was fading from Ethan’s hazel eyes, slowly being replaced with something else, something just as primal.  Submission.  Trust.  “That’s it,” Karl breathed as he pressed forward again, this stroke slightly faster, slightly less careful.  Ethan panted into Karl’s palm.  And even though Karl was faltering with his own caution, the other’s hips still rose to meet him until Karl was grinding against Ethan’s thighs.  

With another squeeze from the man below him, Karl groaned and nearly collapsed onto Winters.  He caught himself with his palms, Ethan’s mouth now free to mutter its own curses and groans as Karl quickly withdrew.  Their eyes met one more time, Karl’s control now completely faltering as he choked out, “Ethan,” before driving into the other man.  His head fell onto Winters’ chest and there his hot breath issued, repeated grunts as he began to thrust faster.  

It was excruciating--Ethan wasn’t ready for this fast pace yet, but he knew as he heard Heisenberg’s steady timed grunting that the other was deep in his own need, having held back all he could.  This knowledge along with every captured sense around Ethan was too overwhelming--heavy chains on his wrists, cold earth all around him, colder rain drenching them both, the delectable and overwhelming bodywide sensation of being completely filled, the tang from Karl’s earlier bites on his neck and shoulder, and now the other’s building passion as he worked in a furor to open Ethan up for him.  

Ethan’s gasps were punctuated by the fuzzy, warm images of flashbacks that opened up a thousand more touches.  Karl’s lips on his neck.  Tracing his tongue along Ethan’s ear.  Strong arms around him, lowering him down onto hot thighs.  Spreading his legs for entry.  So many different memories blended, fading away again every time Karl intensified his breeding instinct, pulling Ethan back into the present, where the hissing sound of midnight rain washed away every hesitation and he again melted in the other’s arms.  

Karl’s hands were still clawing into the dirt, but now as he lost control he began seeking Ethan by touch, his face pressed into Ethan’s chest, his tongue and teeth exploring.  The iron chain collapsed as Karl furiously pounded, and the blond reached around for anything to grasp.  Another stone bench was just out of reach of his fingers, and now he grabbed it, bracing himself so that Karl could work his entire body.  Ethan’s toes curled as the pain and pleasure began to cause a repetitive throbbing sensation deep within his groin.  

“F-fuck!” was all he could muster, a desperate sound that left chilled blue lips.  He had never had this and had always wanted it.  His entire life was a series of rescues, whether he was rescuing himself or someone else.  Ethan never had the time or found the right person to take away that burden, willingly take charge of him, push him into submission, but he craved it with every fiber of his being.  

Now he brought one hand down from the position he braced with to run through Karl’s soaking wet hair; the other’s head was still down as he succumbed to the rut, but now at Ethan’s tender touch his head snapped up, familiar snarl on his scarred lips as his breath puffed around them.  

Karl’s forearms ground into the dirt as he crawled up toward Ethan, teeth bared, looking almost monstrous in the dark.  Ethan’s other hand curled up to Karl’s cheek as his legs now wrapped around Karl’s waist.  He met the ferocity and animalistic aggression with tenderness, fingers stroking the wild hair and scarred skin.  Karl growled, flinching away as if the display of affection hurt him.  Ethan grasped the man’s face and pulled it back toward him, continuing to lovingly stroke the scars and wipe the strands of hair away from the other’s haunted, lost eyes.  

The flashbacks stilled as Ethan instead began to sense Karl’s inner emotions.  There were no thoughts as he pumped his hips, but the emotions were all full of pain--hate, regret, loneliness, desperation.  It seemed to emanate from Heisenberg like his radiating heat, or the electric sizzling in the misty air.  His only release from this mental prison was physical, and he was close.  Ethan tightened his grip on Karl’s face, now the one forcing eye contact.  He’d been pushed closer to the stone slab and now propped his back up on it, rising toward Heisenberg with a resolve in those hazel eyes where fear had been before.  

“Karl,” he said with a hitch of breath, feeling his own need throbbing alongside the other’s.  The wind picked up, howling as though it intended to wipe them both from the earth.  Sheets of rain fell and Ethan threw his head back, feeling the crook of the cold stone as Karl plunged one final time, the groan of the engineer lost in the wind and Ethan’s gasps as he felt the other man’s release trigger his own--

And then Ethan froze, hands clawing to sit upright as he gasped over and over.  Karl hauled him into his lap, sitting back on his haunches.  Ethan was now the one scratching the other grunting man’s back as Karl buried his face in Ethan’s neck.  The engineer held onto the man who belonged to him, keeping him pinned through his orgasm.  They came almost together, Karl’s groans low, Ethan’s gasps almost sounding like sobs as he trembled.  Karl held him tightly, lips pressed into Ethan’s neck.  

He finally looked up at the blond with bleary eyes, seeing Ethan’s dark amber eyes go wide with surprise.  The convulsions slowed, both men physically spent, but now Ethan’s breath didn’t return.  He stared at Karl with a new expression--shock.  Disbelief.  Some strange, eerie slack jawed look that made the brunette sigh and loosen his hold on Winters.  

“Ethan,” Karl began hesitantly, unsure what this new look was.  He gulped in the rainy air and swallowed. He prepared to hear rejection, hatred, mockery.  Any number of things he’d heard before.  Karl swallowed.  

“Karl,” Ethan said breathlessly, and now the long thin fingers wound themselves up to Karl’s face again.  Ethan’s mouth was open, his lips parting in a half-shocked smile.

“It--all came back.”

The engineer gave a slight shake of his head.  He didn’t understand. 

“Everything.”  Ethan exhaled, his nostrils flaring, and he pressed his forehead against Karl’s.  His eyes closed in ecstasy.  “I remember everything.”

#winters and the beast #wintersberg

[blubugg13]

HI HELLO BERRY I AM HERE! I come to ask about your boy Lloyd - I must know the details! What universe is he set it? What’s his personality like? Got any cool powers to go along with the deer iconography? I’m very intrigued already by that lol

You know you’re the first person to ask about my oc, im very honored. Lloyd is set in, of course, the RE8 universe, and he was a WW2 soldier that specialized in communications. I had his epic death planned out and yes Ethan kills him.

His personality? He is loyal, respectful, confident, courageous, basically what you find in a soldier, but he does keep a lot of things to himself because of Heisenberg, he can be a bit of an ass but more on the humorous side. He is a fighter much like Karl, and he also loves to teach.

He does have a Cadou yes, a little similar to Heisenberg’s electrical stuff, but instead of the organs Lloyd got himself some copper veins. He is a walking conductor, able to withstand extreme heat temperatures, absorbing it, this goes with electricity too, able to store it in his body and use it whenever. His speed is outrageous especially paired with his power surge like move. I totally didn’t imagine Ethen vs Lloyd boss fight. (He also has a white streak in his black hair that sticks up…a little reference to Frankenstein aswell)

But this is also were the deer (specifically a buck) goes two ways, a buck symbolizes speed, stamina, virility, leadership, and regeneration. Lloyd is very light on his feet and quick, he was also a past soldier, a past leader. And regeneration, Lloyd had lost three of his limbs and is still standing. Much like Karl he won’t go down easily without a fight.

His little background is long enough I should probably do that separately lol. I didn’t want to keep anyone here any longer.

#re8 soldat #re8 oc #oc

[mishwanders]

All I wanna ask about is Ricardo lol! You can chat about him all day, I'll listen. He's my sweetheart 😚

My ask is that from what you get inspirations for Ricardo? A song, a book, a quote, an oc, a character from the fandom or outside of the fandom, etc... I would really want to know his design process ( and I do believe that designing a character is a constant thing and your ocs are something updateable haha so the inspirations are endless at some point )

You are 100% right about the character designs constantly updating because he continues to throw me new things lmao. He’s still forming into what exactly he needs to be atm while I write him in Sorinas story.

The first thing that made him pop into my head was actually the song Witchyman by Cain Culto. I immediately wanted to write a male oc after hearing it and Ricardo is who appeared in my head. I already had this idea to add a character to Hunk’s storyline in RE (because I love him) and Ricardo really seemed to fit all of the criteria’s I was looking for in a character and more for it, so that’s why I’ve paired them together for the story.

Ricardo is also hispanic and I’m very excited to write about that! I’ve grown up around that culture and am married into a hispanic family, so I wanted to create a character to celebrate those aspects. Even his last name Santos was the name of my partners grandmother, and she was a woman who loved spooky shit/horror, so it’s kind of adding that as an homage to family.

His look and style is very similar to that of uncle Jesse from Full House, but that changes as time goes on and as he spends more time in the village of shadows. By that point he’s got longer salt and pepper hair that he keeps in a bun, his eye patch, and lots of layers to keep warm in the eternal winter of the village. At that point I see him being like a mentor to Matilda, knowing all of the pitfalls they could fall into, having done it himself. He does his best to help them and Heisenberg with their plans of getting free from Miranda, but a wrench gets thrown in when Matilda starts developing feelings for the woman lol

#oc: ricardo luis santos #he becomes such a tired old man with Matilda and Heisenberg #the one holding the brain cell for both of them

[dercolaris]

Waltz of Darkness - Chapter 9: Dark Signs

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg

Relationship: Alcina Dimitrescu & Karl Heisenberg (Lovers)

Genre: Romance, Hurt & Comfort

Planned chapters: 14 + prolog and epilog

Warnings: Strong language,  Descriptions of the Second World War (I do not glorify or support the ideology. The mention only serves my idea for the origin of Karl.)

Status: Work in progress (9/14)

Short Summary: Hatred and love are traveling on a dangerous thin line, but has it really always been that way between the fighting Lords? The sad answer is no. Alcina and Karl had a much deeper relationship than the brief glimpse Resident Evil Village suggests. This is their untold backstory. A story of a fiery love that is slowly torn apart by the parasite until the once strong feelings are only a faint memory in their dead hearts. //Alcina Dimitrescu & Karl Heisenberg (Lovers), Story was once called 'Still' - I changed it to a better fitting title.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33511438/chapters/98178291

Karl pulled his dark green coat tighter around his chest, trying to see something in the darkness around him. As expected, there was an unusual silence in the village and many of the lights in the small houses had already gone out. The residents were probably still struggling with the after-effects of the drastic alcohol consumption at the ball and let night fall early in their small rooms today. Maybe because of this nobody seemed to have thought of lighting the torches for the evening hours. The former officer cursed under his breath at the thought and decided to pay a visit to Moreau first, slightly embarrassed to ask for a lantern. This would be the fifth time in three years.

The doctor would certainly not deny him the saving light, but the blond-haired man would certainly not be able to avoid a malicious remark. Still, it was better than wandering blindly through the ruins and risking his neck. Gustav had often told him about injured villagers, whom he found on the rickety stairs near his factory and then, with some help of the hated Moreau, removed from his property. They all probably wanted to sneak on to his uncle's land without light, so that they could wreak havoc there without being spotted right away - but the calculation rarely worked out in the extreme darkness of the village. Sprained joints, deep cuts and broken bones were more likely.

The intruders accused Gustav tons of times of setting up tripping hazards in this area, but out of his experience with his uncle the young man was able to clearly deny this. The old man rarely left his factory and was generally far too busy renewing and reinforcing his fences. His uncle simply had no time for such sophisticated traps. The many accidents were solely due to the dangerous terrain. The former officer shook his head slightly and made his way to his good friend. Moreau was hopefully sober by now.

The blond-haired man passed one of the larger farmhouses and looked in astonishment into the brightly lit kitchen window. The lady of the house, Luiza Grigoras, was standing there, her eyes fixed on the kitchen worktop as if in a trance. What was she thinking about right now? Karl rarely had anything to do with the woman herself, but her husband Vasile regularly helped with minor repairs in the village. The former officer knew of an unfulfilled desire to have children, which tortured Luiza in particular and for which there seemed to be no solution. Nobody knew how to adequately help the couple in their distress. At that moment, the woman with the long, black hair looked up – a small smile played on her lips when she spotted Karl. The young man returned the gentle gesture and hurried on towards the clinic.

Of course, after all these years, the individual stories of the residents were no longer alien to him. Each one of them struggled with smaller and larger strokes of fate, which also connected them all in a special way. When a family suffered from a bad harvest, the others would help without much thought, sharing their equally scarce food with those affected. If one person died in the village, everyone mourned – without exception. At first, Karl found this solidarity more than strange, but he quickly understood that this close bond ensured the survival of the community. The selfishness of the city wouldn't stand a chance in the deadly mountains. His legs carried him safely over the long wooden bridges and finally led him to the door of the small clinic in the middle of the flooded area.

Even the fishermen had gone to bed early this night. The former officer tapped the musty wood a few times and folded his arms across his chest. Despite the warm temperatures, it cooled down almost to zero in the nights. Heavy footsteps behind the door signalled that the doctor was at least still awake and able to move somewhat. After a few seconds, the clinic opened and Moreau's pale face appeared in the crack of the door. He swayed slightly and finally sought support on the rotten wood of the door frame. Karl quickly took a step forward and spoke carefully: "What's going on with you, Sal?" The person addressed allowed himself to be supported without any objection. Together they made it back to the small examination room, where the black-haired man lay down on the doctor couch, loudly groaning.

Moreau replied with huge effort: "I must have eaten something spoiled yesterday, brother." Before the younger could ask the meaning of those words, the doctor gagged meaningfully. Karl frantically searched the room for a vessel and reached for a bucket under the improvised sink. Not a second later, Moreau vomited into the rusty container in great pain. Black, foul-smelling liquid spurted into the bucket. The black haired man was panting heavily and let his head fall back on the couch, his eyes closing visibly tired.

The former officer took one of the clean rags from the medicine cabinet and soaked it in cold water, gently dabbing the beads of sweat from his friend's forehead. He replied, audibly concerned: "I hate to question your diagnoses, but the contents of your stomach don't look like only leftovers, Sal." The doctor wrinkled his nose and opened his eyes a crack. The opals were so glassy that the young man could practically see his reflection in them. He murmured, barely understandable: "Will you pass me a morselle from the glass and prepare me an infusion with peppermint, chamomile, aniseed, caraway and fennel?"

Karl felt queasy at this description. For more than five decades, the village had relied solely on the Moreau family's old books for health issues, which were probably older than the founding date of Romania. Modern medicine was completely unknown to the people here. The blond-haired bit his lower lip slightly and looked doubtfully at his friend. The dark colour of the vomit suggested blood in the sputum, and the fever also suggested something more serious than an upset stomach. The former officer stifled the urge to voice his suspicion. There was no medical help to be expected for the next hundred kilometres and chances were high that Moreau wouldn't believe him anyway. He was the doctor in the village, not the German solider.

The blond-haired man brought the doctor the piece of sugar he wanted and got to work collecting the herbs from the medicine cabinet. Salvatore chewed carefully on the sweet plate, then spoke dryly: "I shouldn't have looked so deeply into the glass yesterday." Karl froze at this comment, looked almost concerned at the mortar in his hands. How could a trained doctor misinterpret his symptoms so badly? After a while, the young man replied cautiously: "You're certainly not the only one with that today. Many villagers are faring badly after last night.” With these words, he left the room to boil water for tea.

Again choking noises came from the examination room. The former officer nervously chewed his bottom lip and looked out the window. A loud whistle from the kettle made him wince. He prepared the herbal tea with a practised hand and brought the teapot and an already yellowed mug into the other room. Moreau had paled even more in that short time. The doctor wiped his wet forehead with the rag and smiled with an effort, then accepted the cup with a thanks. At that moment Karl didn't know what to do with himself. What could he currently do for his friend? He decided to take a seat next to the couch.

The black-haired man was halfway through the hot tea when he explained in a whisper: "I'm not as naïve as you think, brother, but my father taught me to always assume the best, even when the forecast points to disaster." The former officer managed no more than a nod. The statement reassured and worried him in equal measure. Moreau gagged a little but didn't seem to vomit this time. All of a sudden he asked hesitantly: "Would you like to pray with me, Karl?" The person addressed finally scooted his chair closer to the couch and was about to fold his hands together when Moreau suddenly straightened his left arm. The sweaty hand trembled under the great effort of this movement. The young man thought he heard his heart break in his chest at that moment, but he still held his brother's hand tightly in his own.

Together they began to say a prayer, which the doctor performed much more confidently than the former officer. Karl didn't know the customs and texts of the Romanian Orthodox Church, but after the numerous church services he remembered a few lines. The words seemed to have a calming effect on Salvatore, who was much more relaxed on the couch after only five minutes. When the prayer ended, the doctor said with a smile: “God will decide tonight whether it is time for me to go or if I have other work for him to do. I'm ready for both ways. We must always trust his decisions, whether they suit us or not, Karl.” A large knot formed in the blond-haired man's throat.

Of course, he was not a believer, but the strong hope that the people at the village had in this supernatural power was incomprehensible to him. Moreau seemed to have practically come to good with his life and awaited his end with a smile, no trace of fear to be seen. The former officer was about to open his mouth to say something when the black-haired man forestalled him: "When I fall asleep, please just go, brother, and when you leave the room say 'see you tomorrow'." These words finally set the first tears in motion. They dripped slowly onto the grey duvet cover, mixing with the doctor's sweat. Moreau loosened his grip on the younger man's hand and gently placed his fingers on his own chest, closing his eyes again in a relaxed manner. It wasn't long before a steady breathing revealed Moreau had fallen asleep.

Karl got up unsteadily and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He blinked away the remaining tears. The former officer slowly walked towards the door, then turned around for a brief moment and spoke almost affectionately: "See you tomorrow, Sal." With these words he left the examination room. The blond-haired man looked for the oil lantern in the hallway and lit a flame, then stayed in the clinic for a few more minutes. Something in him didn't want to leave Moreau at that moment, but it had been his friend's express wish. Karl wrestled with himself. In the end, trust in the doctor won and the young man stepped out into the darkness. The light punched through the blackness powerfully, illuminating the wooden path beneath his feet. He had no interest or urge to visit his uncle any more, but he was now so close to the factory that it would have been pointless to turn back and walk up to the castle.

The blond-haired man continued on his way, his thoughts constantly with his friend in the clinic. Perhaps he should return to him as soon as he had finished his visit to Gustav? This idea let the former officer breathe a sigh of relief. Alcina would certainly understand if he was a little late. Karl hurried up the stairs of the old ruins and recognized the imposing wire fence from afar. It was still questionable how his relative would react to the news. After the announcement, the blond-haired man was probably no longer a welcome guest in the factory halls. The young man rolled his eyes slightly. He had never really been a welcome guest. The word he was looking for was probably tolerated. The former officer rushed up to the factory and pushed the gate aside to slip inside. A strange feeling came over him all of a sudden. The lights were still on in the workshop, but it was suspiciously quiet on the premises. No rattling of the gears, no whistling of the ancient machines, no loud swearing from his uncle. Karl entered the sparse living quarters of the factory and called loudly through the kitchen: "I'm home, Gustav!" His relative didn't answer him.

The blond haired man put the lantern on the kitchen table and examined the room superficially. A mug of coffee was on the table, the liquid had already cooled down. Normally, his uncle only drank the black broth when it was boiling hot and would burn the throats of everyone else. The young man entered the hallway and gave a start. Scattered red spots could be seen on the floor. Karl didn't have to bend down to understand that it was blood. He followed the trail, which got bigger with every step. More and more spots joined together to form a bloody streak. He quickly led the seeker to the blood-smeared door to his relatives room. The former officer entered the room with a beating heart and froze into a pillar of salt. Blood. Blood everywhere. Gustav lay in the middle of the room, his right hand clutching a dripping wound on his neck. The red liquid squeezed between his fingers, soiling the ground around him in a warm, metallic puddle.

The former officer only reacted when his relative wheezed loudly and desperately coughed up blood. Karl sat down next to the older one and tried to examine the injury on his neck more closely. Without warning, Gustav grabbed the blond-haired man's shoulder with his other hand and tried to push him away. Apparently he mistook him for one of the attackers. The young man calmly spoke to his uncle: "Gustav, calm down, it's me – Karl." The defence of the injured man died immediately at these words. He tried to speak, but the gurgling sounds made no sense. Meanwhile, the former officer managed to push his uncle's hand away and rip off a piece of his coat, which he pressed with great pressure over the stab wound on his relatives throat. Gustav coughed up more blood, which ran unhindered down his esophagus and windpipe. The older one suddenly made it clear to him that he should come down closer to his mouth. Karl complied with this request without hesitation and tried to understand what his uncle wanted to tell him. After a while, a name reached his ears: "Mi...ran...da..."

At that moment, life left the elder's body, slipping out of the dying man's mouth with the last syllable of the name. His relatives limbs went limp and his head slumped back to the ground. The former officer continued to clench the stab wound, not really realizing that he had just lost his uncle. Gustav's half-open eyes revealed long ago that his soul no longer lived in this body and that nothing in the world could bring it back. He was dead. Karl slowly began to tremble at this realization. He sat back a little and stared at his uncle's lifeless loaf. Gustav was dead. His mind forbade him to believe this thought. In a rush of panic, Karl pressed the hand with the blood-soaked cloth over the injury again and sought his relatives pulse with the other fingers. There was silence around his neck. The wrist was also unmistakably no longer throbbing. The former officer finally gave up after a few seconds and stared at his bloody hands. Memories of the trench warfare on the Eastern Front caught up with him, and fear immediately choked him off.

Karl whispered quietly to himself: "That isn't happening again." Several minutes passed. The cool air in the factory smelled primarily of metal, although it was questionable whether it was the material itself or the blood that had been spilled in the room. The blond-haired finally murmured in a whisper: "Miranda." Several questions forced themselves on the young man. Questions that only one person in the village could answer. Trembling, he searched his uncle's belt for his revolver and checked the bloodstained drum. Gustav couldn't even shoot at the attacker. The former officer got to his feet on shaky legs, stuffed the gun into his coat and looked once more at the dead body of his relative. There was nothing more he could do for him.

Karl was about to leave when an ominous realization hit him with full force: Alcina was in church with Mother Miranda. The young man searched the desk for more bullets. Nothing. Where the hell did his uncle always keep his ammo? The blond-haired man finally found what he was looking for under the bed. A heavy, dark green box revealed an impressive stash. Karl took as many packages as he could fit in his pockets and left the room. On the way out of the factory, he took the lantern with him again. No one was helped when he fell to his death on the stairs. Least of all Alcina. The thought of the noblewoman would not let him go. It gave him incredible power at that moment and made him rush to the village faster than ever before.

The church was at the end of the market square, but Karl could hear the bells ringing from afar. What did that mean? There was no service scheduled tonight and there was no other reason why the bells should be ringing in the night. This fact alone made him even faster. The former officer growled loudly: "You have a lot to explain, Miranda." A few lights on the church gates greeted him from afar, followed by an eerie chanting from inside the building. Karl stopped in front of the old stone building, tried to get a glimpse through the gap in the doors. Something was moving between the ramshackle benches, but the silhouettes were too blurry or dressed too darkly. At that moment, the blond-haired man took his uncle's revolver and released the safety, checking the contents of the drum again out of sheer paranoia. Six bullets.

The young man finally entered the church with cautious steps, not knowing what to expect next. Had Gustav spoken the truth? Was his mother Miranda to blame for his death? Karl needed answers. As he slowly walked through the door, he whispered prayerfully to himself: "Alcina, please be safe."

#Resident Evil #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil VIII #alcina dimitrescu #Karl heisenberg #Salvatore Moreau #Donna Beneviento #Angie #Mother Miranda #Cadou #Parasite

[fortune-fool02]

A Chat

Karl Heisenberg x female reader

This is a tester to see if I can write for him well and to see how everyone thinks of it. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you. 

Please enjoy. 

Snow fell softly upon the land, the whispering, biting cold breeze dancing with grace in the air, pulling up dead leaves for once last dance before laying them to rest; rattling dry twigs and branches, the music for the breeze’s soft singing. Even the crows cawing added to the music, a song of nature. 

A song that was often used to soothe a frightened heart, the sounds melting away the gnawing fear and heavy woes that could break backs and make tears flow freely, like a river almost. A song that was no longer the same for the village. Now tainted by the spill of blood, the snarls of monstrous, feral creatures of which the spilled blood was sourced from. Carrion laying in the streets, staining the paper-white snow red with crimson blood. 

The distant screams of those who she once knew, those she once cared for as her own family, haunted her. All [Name] could do was pray for a quick, swift death for them as she listened from the balcony window of Castle Dimitrescu. A position that she had not had a choice in having, becoming a maid to Lady Dimitrescu and her three daughters, but [Name] had no other choice if she wished to continue having her blood in her veins and air in her lungs, where it all belonged. 

She stood still, holding the silver tray steadily as Lady Dimitrescu took the crimson wine from the tray. 

“You are a good maid, [Name] [Surname]. I dare say one of the longest living for sure, as well as the most behaved.” Lady Dimitrescu spoke, more of an after-thought aloud than a direct compliment. Still, the [Hair colour] woman bowed her head in thanks before being dismissed and sent off elsewhere. She still had to bring the Duke his meal as well as clean Mistress Cassandra’s bed chambers of blood from her last meal. 

As she entered the kitchen, she noticed that a bit of food was already prepared. A sandwich with a large bite taken out of it. None of them would eat like this, and [Name] had not had dinner herself yet. 

“About time. Had to make my own food here.” [Name] turned her head towards the source of the voice and quickly lowered into a bow, trying to mask the growing dread of disappointing someone. 

“I-I am so sorry, sir. I was s-” Her words were cut off by him, 

“Hey, don’t screw around like that. I was pulling your leg.” Heisenberg spoke, a light playful tone in his voice as he walked back over, a glass of alcohol in hand, and continued to eat his meal. [Name] was no stranger to Heisenberg, nor the other two Lords and Mother Miranda herself, though she did not know them like Lady Dimitrescu or Heisenberg. Mainly because she was not allowed to attend any meetings or gatherings of theirs. 

Heisenberg smiled lightly as he watched her straighten herself, dust herself off, and try to reclaim her calmness she lost a moment ago, taking note of the light shake in her form and the flecks of fear that radiated from her. Such a jumpy thing, always afraid of disappointing others, even before she was brought here. 

“Is....Is there anything else you wish to have, Lord Heisenberg?” [Name] asked, [Eye colour] orbs looking at him as she waited for a response, an order. Thinking for a moment, he gave her a nod. 

“Yes, actually. Come here.” She approached as told to, trying to maintain the respectful distance one should when in the presence of a Lord, though he motioned her closer still, until they were but centimetres away. She took the moment to examine him. His hat shadowing part of his face, the dark round glasses concealing his eyes. What colour were they? She did wonder such. He set his drink aside for a moment and brought his hand up, his skin lightly rough against her cheek but what else did someone expect with his work within his factory and love for mechanical creations? Light lingering scent of smoke and soot, followed by the odd smell of rusted metal, the same one would smell when entering a factory. Though, it was not really unpleasant, compared to the stench in the cellar and the....wine preparation area, this was a nice smell. 

“Do me a favour, and keep living. I’d hate for you to go so soon.” A softness to his voice was something unheard of, even when he was relaxed. But also a trace of warning, not for what he would do but for if she were to disobey, the fate she would face at the hands of Lady Dimitrescu. Giving a small nod, she didn’t look away from him. His lips lifted lightly, 

“Good girl.” He hummed, his thumb lightly brushing against her cheek before pulling away fully, taking another mouthful of his drink before carrying both the plate and glass out the kitchen. “See you later, kitten.” 

[Name] watched him leave, her voice quiet but just audible, “U-Um, bye.” Slowly, her hand rose to where his was but a moment ago, fingers gently brushing against it. Of everything she had expected, that was not one of them. 

#heisenberg #karl heisenberg #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #re x reader #resident evil village #resident evil viii #re8 heisenberg #re8

[its-deputy-caleb]

If requests are still open, could I request a gender neutral teenage reader (around 16) who is a lord. They are the kindest and most passive of the lords but they are also the only lord that every other lord likes.

Heyy, so I loved writing these they were super adorable and i did it a little differently where there’s some general head cannons for everyone and then there’s also some for each specific character! Also the reader is 18 because I just think it’s easier for me to handle, I hope that’s okay. These are gender neutral so enjoy! and sorry for the delay!

General HC’s

Being the fifth Lord certainly didn’t mean that you were at the back of the group.

Although you were younger than most of the lords, having been the last to have the Cadou implanted, you were the favourite in the eyes of not just the other Lords but Mother Miranda adored you, even the villagers love you.

Unlike the rest of the Lords, who’s Cadou allowed them to harm and take life, your Cadou allowed you to grow greenery and plant life everywhere.

You had the ability to restore old forests, letting flowers grow from you palm and giving them to the children in the village.

Amongst the village, you’re by far the most beloved of the Lords. Each week you bring down foods that you’ve grown so that there’s food for everyone, using the roots of the trees to grow tall and protect them from Lycans that may want to enter at night.

Everyone can tell where you’ve been because you’ll leave a trail of grass under your feet with little flowers appearing when you walk with bare feet.

The village hosts a week long feast for you where all the Lords celebrate with you. There’s lots of gifts, dancing and offerings. It’s the only joyful time of the year and even the Lords who seem sour like Heisenberg, Alcina and even Miranda seem to tolerate each other to celebrate with you.

Your domain is surrounded by forests and streams which have all been restored, wildlife now dwelling amongst the canopy.

Your house is in the centre of it all, the heart of the forest in a large oak tree which is hollow and now where you call home.

You’re a literal ray of sunshine in this ever gloomy world and no matter who or what you encounter; they adore you instantly

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina certainly wasn’t happy that the newest Lord was befriending villagers and protecting them as they were her source of food, but that all came crumbling down when she got to know you.

You couldn’t explain it but your beautiful and bubbly energy transferred to people and everyone noticed that Alcina had become warmer towards everyone else.

She saw you as one of her daughters, so sweet and innocent that she felt that motherly instinct to protect you from all the bad in the world.

She loves to braid your hair, watching as flowers grow between the weaves as she pulls it back gently with her long fingers.

Alcina never complains when moss grows on the walls of her castle as she could never be mad at you. She just gets the maidens to clean it off later.

She hates that she often has to stay in the castle with her daughters so you make sure flowers are growing in all her vases and the courtyard is lit up with bright greens for her daughters to gaze out onto.

Everyone at the castle loves you, the maidens, her daughters and especially the Lady of the House as you instantly make the room brighter.

Donna Beneviento

Donna is in absolute awe of you.

She is always so excited to spend time with you and you make her feel loved and happier.

You’re like the younger sibling she never had and she can’t stop smiling when you visit her manor.

Sometimes when you come over for lunch or spend a lazy afternoon over at her house, you open your palm and let a little white flower grow from your palm. You always tuck it behind her ear with a strand of her hair and then grow a smaller one for Angie and place it on her veil.

Donna has a tendency to close herself off from people and often feels lonely but you’re the only one who makes her feel loved.

You show her parts of your forest, places she’s never explored and if she’s scared you simply hold her hand tightly in reassurance.

Once when you were walking through the path leading from your home a deer had stopped in front of you.

Donna was instantly scared of the creature having never seen one before but you gently took her over to it and got her to hold out her hand.

It smelt her hand, it’s doe eyes looking at her before it ran off again and she’d never felt happier since you were there the whole time with her.

She loved getting to explore the woodlands with you, bringing Angie along of course. She felt safe and comfortable with you and she trusted you enough to show her your world which she was captured by instantly.

You make her happy and always manage to lift her spirits up with your powers and you friendship.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore loves your powers so much. He’s captured by them immediately and is always so excited to see you grow new things.

He can’t believe that you’d ever want to spend time with him so you always try to cheer him up with homemade meals from things you’ve grown or gifts woven out of wood for him to decorate his home with.

You’ll never forget the way his eyes lit up when you used your powers to restore the windmill that had broken. Using tree branches to make the wind turbine and watching the walls grow green.

The reservoir is no longer gloomy like it used to be but instead there is life all around his land.

The snow melts away to reveal lush green fields which reflect the water beautifully and the petals of trees fall into the water, floating on the light.

He loves to see you and always gets giddy when you visit him, watching as he jumps for joy when he sees you at the front gate.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl will NOT admit it, but you’re the literal ray of sunshine in his life, getting excited when he sees you walk through the gates of his factory.

Hes always smiling to himself when he sees moss, flowers and vines throughout the metal benches and grates of his factory but will deny it if anyone asks.

Sometimes when he’s welding away at metal he won’t hear you come in, and only realises it when he takes a break and sees you curled on the floor with three lycan puppies in your arms as you create sticks from your hands to play fetch with.

Karl is very protective over you and hates when you’re at family meetings because Miranda wants to use your gifts of growth and healing to experiment on you further. Wanting to see if you could potentially grow new limbs or heal others not just the natural world.

One time he walked into experimenting rooms ready for another trial on a potential solider when he notices the Soldat had green leaves coming from his wounds and his torso was wrapped in vines. He couldn’t help but smile at your little additions and made a note in his designs to make all his Soldat’s with your touches to them, deciding that they looked better with them anyway.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau #salvatore moreau x reader #resident evil headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil #RE8 #asks #prompt

[alovesongshewrote]

Get Held | The Four Lords HCs

based on this request from ao3:  if requests are still okay, could you maybe do one with how the different lords would react to you asking for cuddles and/or how they’d cuddle you? I’m touch starved

i hear that man, i, too, am touch starved

Taglist: @prismarts @blixeon @mxcheese @valentimmy @chrysanthykios

Headcannons 

Lady Dimitrescu 

Right, so if you ask her to hold you, she’s down

She just

“Of course, Darling~”

And then she frickin

Picks you up

Bridal style

And carries you off to the bedroom

She lays you down

Kisses ur forehead

And then she goes to like

Take off her hat

Let her hair down

Etc

Before joining you

And when she does?

It’s so soft my guy

She just 

Wraps herself around you

Lets you rest your head on her chest

Runs her hands through your hair

She is 100% the big spoon

Will run her hands up and down your arms

Kisses ur forehead (again)

And like

She’s a vampire

But man, she is so warm

Also, soft

She’s very soft

It’s just

The cuddles are 

Supreme 

Donna Beneviento 

S o

Donna is less secure about the cuddling

She’s very easily flustered, too

So when you’re like

“Cuddles pls”

She just

Turns red

Blushes 

She legit just gets the little

Anime lines on her cheeks

It’s very cute

Thank goodness for her veil, because that thing hides her face very well

Unless she’s comfortable enough to not be wearing it around you

In which case you can see her blush and it is very cute

Anyway, depending on how comfortable she is with you

She either like

Shrinks up and dies

Or

If she’s known you a little longer

She shrinks up and dies, but like

While wrapping her arms around you and burying her face in her chest

It’s

So cute

Basically, it’s the reverse of lady D, where you carry her off to the bedroom 

AND you’re the big spoon

And you kiss HER forehead 

It’s all very soft

Until angie starts jumping on you like a child waking up their parents

Which, when you think about it

She kind of is

But y’know what, it’s cute

And angie can be brought into the cuddle pile

Anyway

Pls hold donna, she deserves good things

Salvatore Moreau 

So

Moreau is a little surprised that anyone wants to hold him

Actually, his first response might actually be “No” just because of how shocked he is

Also, because he thinks he’s undeserving, but anyway

You’re gonna have to like

Convince him

A little bit

That you love him and you want to hold him

And then when he’s finally convinced 

You both realize that prolonged holding can cause him some discomfort

So that sets you back a few steps until you find a solution 

You get him to turn into his giant fish form

And then you just

Lie on his back

It’s surprisingly comfortable

And moreau appreciates it greatly, because this way he gets to be held and he gets to be comfortable

Needless to say, moreau is also touch starved, so like

He loves that you found a way to hold him

And like

You didn’t give up after that, you found several ways to hold him

For example, in passing, giving him a quick hug worked

Wrapping yourself in his arms briefly 

Etc

You become the master of the quick cuddle 

And he loves u for it

Karl Heisenberg 

Right so

Heisenberg 

This mother fucker likes to pretend that he’s this big stoic man who needs no one

But that’s a goddamn lie

He’s just as touched starved as everyone else

He’ll say “no” to cuddles, but if you put your arm around him, he’ll melt

Hug him from behind and he dies

Hold him enough and he’ll give up on the stoic manly man thing

He’ll straight up just

Lift you

Take you somewhere to cuddle

And just

Wrap around you

Like, even more than Lady D

He’ll bury his face in your shoulder

Wrap his arms around your waist

And just

Holds you for a bit

Run your hands through his hair/over his scars to destroy him

Anyway

Uhhh

You take turns being the big spoon

Because y’know what, everyone likes being the little spoon, it makes you feel safe

And you 

Both need that

So

yeah

Heisenberg will deny it more than anyone

But he really really needs to be held

#re8 x reader #resident evil 8 x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #Salvatore Moreau x reader #moreau x reader #donna beneviento x reader

[wallflowerimagines]

Alcina Demitrescu Crush Headcannons

Alcina Dimitrescu is just...so stressed...

She is not only the oldest of the Four Lords and the Head of House Dimitrescu, but Alcina also runs a winery, monitors a series of Cadou experiments on behalf of Mother Miranda, and takes care of three rambunctious daughters.

She puts in so much effort, all the time, and yet she is still not considered the favorite. She doesn't even get the most basic recognition for her work and it's exhausting.

It's even worse after she gets into arguments with Heisenberg. She has plenty of issues with the youngest lord because he's not only blatantly disrespectful to her around Mother Miranda, but he just says such stupid, immature, insensitive nonsense and somehow THEY ARE CONSIDERED EQUALS?

Lady Dimitrescu is a woman of class, culture and style, and damn it all she should not have to put up with this.

And when you take time out of your day to actively listen to her problems and appreciate what she's going through?

....👀👀👀

Listening to her problems is the best way to initially catch Lady Dimitrescu's interest.

You make her feel seen, and it does things to her heart rate when you look up at her and say 'That can't be easy'

Another trait that makes you Alcina's type is that you are passionate about something. It doesn't matter what you love, as long as you are willing to chat with her from midnight until sunrise about WHAT you love and WHY you love it.

You could talk to her about anything--from medeival torture devices to obscure dessert recipes to the classification of different flora and fauna-- and as long as you are passionate about what you're talking about Lady Dimitrescu is going to watch you with a soft smile and a sparkle in her eye.

It doesn't matter if you are shy either, because (1) Alcina has been alive for a long time and knows exactly what buttons to push to get someone talking, and (2) it's very charming watching you gather the courage to have a simple conversation with her.

Bonus points if you are the kind of person who also enjoys long, comfortable silences. After a long day, Lady Dimitrescu loves nothing more than sitting next to the fireplace with a glass of "wine" and simply existing in the same space as someone whom she holds so dear.

You two can sit on opposite ends of the same couch, relaxing and maybe reading a book, and the only noise in the room is the crackling of the fire and the noise of Alcina's breathing.

(And, occasionally, the distant buzzing of flies and a very faint bloodcurdling scream. If you inquire about it, Alcina doesn't know what you're talking about.)

Alcina is also possessive of her crush in small ways.

She is more than happy to subtly corral you into different rooms so you two can have alone time away from her daughters.

It's not uncommon for her to lead you from room to room, only abandoning you in a guest bedroom hours later because all of a sudden it's way too late for you to go home! Why, it's far too dangerous for you to travel alone this time of night! You should simply stay here! It's no trouble at all!

(She is more than happy to keep you in her home for days at a time too. If you're someone who's easily distracted, you might find your simple dinner has turned into a week long getaway??? HOW?????)

Alcina also runs her hand through your hair, giving your scalp light little scritches and twisting the longer strands between her fingers.

She will definitely bend down so you two are eye to eye, reach out a hand, and tuck your hair away from your eyes. More often than not, she'll also lift your chin a little to make sure you meet her gaze, smile at you, then straighten up like nothing happened.

She just likes to look you in the eyes sometimes💕💕.

Alcina doesn't process exactly how much she loves you until she sees you interacting with her daughters one day.

You're amazing with them, handling their teasing and prodding with a smile and a laugh. You're not afraid of them at all--how could you be? You've spent so much time in the Castle already that they adore your presence just as much as she does.

You've already become part of the family.

And the minute she realizes this?

Yeah, Alcina is Sold. ❤️

She was already very taken with you, but this just proves that you're The One.

Don't be surprised if she confesses to you soon after this. The Lady Dimitrescu wants you to be a permanent fixture in her life, and the sooner she can secure you by her side the better.

A future with you feels like a peaceful dream... And Honestly? Alcina's world is so much better with you in it.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil #re8 #crush headcannon #headcannon

[hooman4ever]

!SFW! Trans Karl Heisenberg x GN Reader

This is a special for a longer RE8 fic I am working on in Ao3 called “The Metal Doll” so sorry if some parts don’t make complete sense. This is Non-canon to the main fic if anyone already read that. (Also, this is my apology to being bad at updating that consistently.) 

Contains: Cuddling, Morning Cuddles, Trans Heisenberg, Top Surgery Scars, Fluff, Gender Ambiguous Reader

The warmth of another human being was addicting when compared to the cold sheets you had been accustomed to all your life thanks to Miranda. Yet as you laid on Heisenberg’s chest the warmth you had grown to crave after years of being alone seeped into your fingertips. Fingers that idly traced the scars lining his skin just under Heisenberg's pecks. Your touch was loving and gentle against the marks jaggedly cut into the man's flesh, they were proof of the life he’s led and how far he’s come to molding the body he lived in. The body he had always craved for. 

Every bump and jagged edge that marred his skin was beautiful. He was truly a work of art, grey hairs scattered along his torso and arms while the hair atop his head fanned out around him. Those pure blue eyes held so much emotion as they grazed over your face. He was breathtaking in all his groggy morning glory. 

Without thinking, you moved your head and pressed your lips to the scars that were engraved in your mind like the constellations that dotted the night skies around the Beneviento mansion. 

“What was that for?” Heisenberg laughed out, his fingers cupping the back of your head. “Just felt like it." Your response was immediate and as genuine as the lazy smile that spread across your lips. Tugging at the corners and crinkling the corners of your eyes. It was a gentle expression that you rarely found time to use while under Miranda’s watchful eyes. 

“Well then,” Heisenberg started, his fingers no longer lazily resting as they instead urged you to move forward. You shifted further up Heisenberg’s chest till your lips were mere inches from his. Your thighs sitting on either side of the man’s midsection as you were forced into a sitting position to be able to get close to his face. “What if I just felt like kissing you?” Heisenberg’s breath fanned over your lower face, the intoxicating smell of cigars lost to you as your heart thumps in your ears, your face flushing fiercely at the bold words Heisenberg had so casually muttered. 

“I don’t think I would mind,” You responded holding such sureness that Karl couldn't help but chuckle at your blatant want. 

Smirking Heisenberg moved forward ever so slowly. His lips not even a centimeter from yo–

.

.

.

Suddenly you shot up, a blanket pooling around your waist as you awoke in Alcina’s home. Alone in a cold bed. 

“Fucking weird dream–” you muttered as the smell of cigars was nowhere to be found.

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x male reader #karl heisenberg x male #karl heisenberg x female reader #Karl heisenberg x female #karl heisenberg x gn reader #karl heisenberg x gn #karl heisenberg x #trans karl heisenberg #trans visibility day 💙💜🤍💜💙 #one-shot #part from a longer fic on Ao3

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Don’t Poke the Bear || Karl Heisenberg || NSFW

“It’s hot as fuck in here.”

Heisenberg brushes his hair from his neck and curses again.

You hum to acknowledge his outburst. It certainly is hot – the furnace when running heats the room to unbearable temperatures – but you don’t mind; not when Heisenberg is shirtless.

Damn is he attractive. You bite down onto your tender lip, watching him work from across the room.

His muscles protrude beneath his scarred flesh as he flexes, building castings for his latest project – you don’t care.

He has no idea how much he turns you on. The thought of him bending you over the grimy workbench and fucking you senseless in this unbearable heat makes you sigh in pleasure. It’s a shame he’s too busy to play with you though.

“… listening … hey! Earth to the moron.”

You grunt, giving him a heated glare.

“I heard you asshole,” you bark. “No reason to be rude.”

He puckers a brow and hums. “Sorry about that, darling. Pass me the mallet on the shelf over there.”

You trudge across the room, intent on tossing it at him. But several hammers and mallets are lying on the shelf. Each one is different; each used for different tasks. Which one does he need? You frown in annoyance; embarrassed heat creeps across your face.

You are aware that Heisenberg is watching you.

“Don’t say it,” you order.

He laughs. “I need the brass mallet.”

You take it to him, shoving the brass head into his hand.

“Now who’s being fucking rude.”

You ignore him and watch as he continues to work.

Whatever Heisenberg is making doesn’t interest you in the least. It’s boring and though the Soldats are a necessary item in defeating Miranda, you care nothing for it.

It’s his goal to kill her; to be free of her; not yours. But if that is what he wants, it’s no problem to you.

Faint scars from the experimentation mark his skin. You run a slender finger up his spine to the base of his neck, seeing his shoulders tense up; goosebumps rise.

“I’d kill you if it were someone else,” he mentions as he swats away your eager hand.

Turning, his eyes narrow.

“Why’d you come down here?”

You lie. “To lend you a hand. I was bored.”

“I swear to god that’s the dumbest lie you’ve ever made,” he retorts, taking off his heat-resistant gloves.

You snort and roll your eyes. “I brought you the damn mallet, didn’t I?”

“I had to tell you three fucking times,” he barked.

Damn he’s an ass.

“I was bored,” you explain with a sigh. “And thought I’d come down here to watch you work.”

Heisenberg shakes his head and turns the furnace off, sauntering towards the door. You watch him a minute, deciding to follow him.

“Break time?”

He snorts. “For me. You didn’t do a damn thing.”

“I hand––

“For fuck’s sake, I know. You handed me the mallet.”

He’s a bit moody today.

You step into the cart, staring out the side at the machines as they run, carting Soldats from one end of the factory to the next.

The lift ascends.

“There’s so many of them,” you mention.

Heisenberg hums. “It’s not nearly enough.”

“It’s more than the first time you let me down here,” you add, feeling nostalgic.

He agrees. “Dead bodies weren’t doing the trick.”

A shiver runs down your spine. You are aware that live humans were used to creating his army – more and more of the villagers began to go missing; it was obvious – yet thinking about it always turned your stomach.

Changing the subject, you grin. “You know … I rather like seeing you covered in grease and grime.”

“I knew there had to be a reason you asked to help me,” he stated. “Fuck you’re deprived.”

You laugh. “Says the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I’m not the sadistic fuck wanting to jump your bones down there,” he retorted with a grunt.

You fake an expression of hurt. “You’re not? Mercy me! And I would have let you too.”

Heisenberg laughs. “You have a screw loose, fucking with me.”

Perhaps you do.

“The offer stands,” you mention, walking over to him.

He wets his lips, reaching for your hair to yank back your head, forcing you to stare up into his gleaming yellow eyes. It stings a bit, making you gasp, but also it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Last chance. You sure?”

You nod.

Staring into your wide eyes, Heisenberg catches your lips in a rough kiss. You moan. This is a pleasant surprise; he’s not keen on kissing.

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, you tell yourself.

Resting your hand on his chest, you open your eager mouth, sighing in bliss once his warm tongue meets yours. The pressure he uses to crush your mouth hurts, but you love it, tussling with him. Your insides clench up in want.

You can’t take this. Kissing is nice, but you want to be wrecked.

Breaking the kiss, you reach for his pants, tugging him closer to you. Heisenberg grins, swollen lips looking good enough to eat, and motions for you to turn around. Doing so, he pushes you against the wall of the lift and reaches down to undo your pants.

You shimmy them down in glee.

Hearing his pants unfasten, you are surprised when he spreads you and thrusts his cock to the base inside of you. The air leaves your lungs from the sudden pain, but once he starts, sucking on your neck as he thrusts deep into your eager hole, you relax a bit, moaning.

His soft grunts sound so delicious in your ear.

“So good,” you moan.

Have you ever felt this full before? You won’t last much longer.

Reaching back, you bury your fingers into his hair, arching your ass to meet his rough thrusts. Closer and closer your end draws near. As you cum, your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Your body slumps back in exhaustion as Heisenberg continues to fuck you.

Suddenly, he leans forward and sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of your shoulder. You cry out; it strings so bad.

Why did he do this? Does he mean to hurt you?

He pulls out of you – your hole feels empty and sore – and covers the cheeks of your ass in warm cum.

“Let go,” you plead.

Heisenberg releases you. The mark on your shoulder throbs as you touch it, resting against the wall of the lift.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a grin.

You glare at him.

“You’re such an ass. You didn’t have to tear my fucking arm off.”

“Your damn arm is fine,” he snaps.

Refastening your pants, despite the cum on your ass, you trudge out of the lift, needing a warm bath.

Heisenberg laughs.

You just had to go and poke the bear.

#karl heisenberg #resident evil village #heisenberg x reader #gender netural reader #resident evil 8

[darling-i-read-it]

Peace

Karl Heisenberg x reader, Ethan Winters and the other Lords x platonic!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR RE8!!, insinuations to smut, talks about having children

Author’s Note: this is so wacky and i just now finished it. Its just for fun and an excuse to write domestic resident evil 8 characters. I had a blast doing it. Also it was loosely influenced by @/nerdymixedpan on tiktok who makes this kind of AU stuff! Highly recommend their tiktoks

Summary: An AU where Ethan didn’t kill any of the Lords and was convinced to stay, leave Mia (the crazy chick who tried to kill him and also worked for a sketchy company prior to that) and raise Rose with the Lords and the reader.

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You were walking around Dimitrescu castle, as you often did. You hopped between places when you could. You always went to sleep at the Heisenberg factory but you did get along well with the other Lords and liked to pay them a visit when you could.

It was actually Cassandra who asked for your presence. You had heard of course that the village was being attacked but you didn’t mind too much about that at the moment. Cassandra wanted you over at the castle, to try and talk some sense into Ethan Winters.

You had heard of Ethan at that point, of course. Everyone had. The father of the infamous Rose. But you didn’t think you would get to meet him.

So you came over there and knocked on Alcinas bedroom door. She swung it open, gazing down at you. She was no longer surprised when she came over and usually was quite pleased to have someone to talk to. Rarely did she speak to people outside her daughters and Mother Miranda and she had a responsibility to those people. She didn’t have a responsibility to you.

“What brings you along here? We’re a bit busy. I assume you’ve heard Ethan WInters has escaped Heisenbergs grasp.” You let out a huff of air and nodded.

“Yes, he was not pleased when he came back home. Cassandra called, said I should try and talk to him.”

“Cassandra wants him murdered.”

“Maybe she has some sympathy because of the baby,” you suggested. You gestured to the large castle. “Any idea where I can find him?” She shook her head, exasperated.

“If I had any idea, don’t you think I would have gone to find him already?” You nodded stiffly.

“I will look for him myself then. If you find a short person not in robes, double check to make sure it’s not me before you claw them,” you told her. She gave you a small smirk before you turned around and started back down the stairs.

You had free reign of the castle and had learned its insides and outs at this point. On occasion the girls asked you to stay over and hang out for a little while longer so you had slept there as well.

You started to check a couple of the rooms, walking around haphazardly. It was when you came to a room on the main floor that you found the Duke. He sat there and raised his eyebrows at the sight of you.

“You aren’t Ethan Winters,” he said.

“Ah so you’ve seen him. Care to point me in the right direction?” Duke shrugged a bit.

“He’ll be here eventually if you care to wait.” You let out a sigh. You could go searching but it was a sure bet that he will return to this spot. You pulled up a chair from the table there.

“Alright then. You selling any good food?”

=====

Ethan came running into the room as you were enjoying a nice dish. You stood up quickly, putting your dish down on the table. He had his gun up but dropped it at the sight of you.

“Are you a villager? Do you need help getting out?” he asked, clearly out of breath. You scoffed and shook your head.

“No, no. I’m here to talk to you Ethan.” He was still clearly frazzled. You grabbed your dish and held it up to him. “Care for some food?” you asked, hopefully as a peacemaker. He looked between you and the food and saw that you at least looked human.

He put his gun in his holster and took the food from you.

“Alright. What do you want to talk to me about?” he asked, sitting down at the table. “Who are you anyway?”

“This is Karl Heisenberg's pet,” said the Duke. You scoffed.

“Shush up, you’re not helping.” You sat beside Ethan. “Ethan, I know where Rose is.”

“You know where Rose is?! Where is she?!”

“Shush, let me finish.” You cleared your throat. “This whole thing, all of it, is about Mother Miranda. She took the place of Mia to try and take Rose away. She believes Rose will be a good vessel. Ethan, Lady Dimitrescu, Karl, none of the Lords are your enemy. It’s just Mother Miranda.”

“Well it looks like everyone is trying to kill me.” You shook your head.

“If you helped them kill Mother Miranda, they will let you keep Rose. In fact, I have it on good authority that most of them would love to help take care of her.” Ethan stared at you for a minute and leaned back. He had some food on his chin. You handed him a napkin and he took it gratefully. “And Ethan...Mia told Mother Miranda that you...you’re not exactly human.”

His eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re mold Ethan.” He was silent for a very long time. Everything raced through his head. Why would he want to stay here? Granted the castle was nice...and these people did know how to save Rose...it would protect him from anything else Chris had planned that he didn’t know about.

And apparently, Mia had been keeping this secret for God knows how long.

It all seemed like too much for him.

“Take a second to take that in. I don’t want to rush you but I have to talk to the daughters about it.”

“You swear they’ll help me with Rose?”

“No one wants her to die, Ethan. We want Mother Miranda gone.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m human. I’m not mold, I’m not an experiment. Just human. If I could live a happy life here, why can’t you and Rose?”

That made sense. If anything made sense, that did. Ethan took a deep breath.

“Fine. What do you need me to do?”

======

Some Time After The Death of Mother Miranda

“Have you seen Rose? She’s getting bigger everyday.” Karl was speaking when he walked into your room. You were sitting on the bed, flipping through a book. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face.

“What, now that you’ve killed Mother Miranda you’ve moved on to caring about the village baby?” you questioned, putting your hand in your palm. He gave you a look but you ignored him.

“You act as though you don’t want a baby every time you see her,” he commented. You scoffed.

“And it always ends up being pretty pleasurable for you doesn’t it?” You grabbed his hand and pushed him down on the bed so that he was sitting on the edge. You wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“You’re damn right.” He brought your hand up to kiss it. “Ethan’s going to Moreaus today, to swim around with Rose. He invited you,” Karl said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did he invite me or do you want a nice night again?” He kissed your hand again and then kissed your wrist.

“You won’t know until you get there.”

“Fair point my love, fair point.” You kissed his cheek and got up. “I have lunch with Donna but I’ll try and catch up with Ethan afterwards. I may make it, I may not.” You slid off the bed. “Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”

He wanted to get up and drag you back but you were already walking out the door.

====

Ethan was by the water, holding Rose in his lap. She was truly getting bigger every day. Moreau was standing beside them, dry now. Ethan’s hair was damp. They must have just gotten done swimming.

“Good of you to join us,” Ethan said as you walked over.

“Salvatore, Ethan…” You leaned over Ethan to look Rose in the eyes. “Little Rosey. How was swimming you guys? Sorry it took so long, I was with Donna and lunch went overtime.” You sat down beside them.

“Rose was perfect,” Moreau said. “She’s a quick learner!” You nodded, looking over at her. You brought your finger up to her and she latched onto it.

“I believe it,” you said. Ethan locked eyes with you.

“I wanted you to come because I heard that Chris was trying to get into the factory.” You raised an eyebrow. You wrapped your arms around your knees and leaned against them.

“He’s still trying to get in here? I thought once Miranda was killed he would leave us alone.” Ethan shook his head.

“Apparently he wants Rose because she’s an asset now,” he muttered but he was looking down at his daughter who was reaching up to his face. He sighed. “She’s getting hungry.”

“You should probably take her back to the castle then.” That was where Ethan usually slept with her. He figured it would be easiest to keep Rose safe with four vampires around at all time that adored her.

“Yes my sister will be wondering where you are,” Moreau said. You nodded in agreement.

“I’ll tell Karl about Chris although I don’t think he’ll get past the Lycans. Then he has to worry about the machines that Karl makes and those are a hassle too. Not the brightest, but a hassle,” you admitted, standing. “I’ll walk you back.” Ethan nodded. You turned to Moreau. “I’ll see you later as well. Try to catch up on the TV show we were watching, I don’t wanna miss anything.”

“I will, of course!” he exclaimed. You smiled and then turned back to walk with Ethan and Rose back up to the Castle. You got into the boat.

“Can you hold her while I steer?” Ethan asked. You nodded and took Rose from him, cradling her in your arms. She was looking around, ever the well behaved child. Ethan started the boat and then you were off.

There was a few minutes of silence as he started to catch his bearings and you played with Rose. You and Ethan had grown close over the weeks he had lived there. He rarely knew peace and didn’t trust it that much but you always assured him that it would be alright.

“I was thinking of maybe starting to rebuild the village,” you said, looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“By yourself?” You scoffed.

“No, obviously not. I’d get the help of everyone. Donna and Angie already wanna pitch in and I figure I could guilt trip Karl into helping, with his whole telepathy thing. I think it could be a fun project. Plus if you accidentally lose a hand you can put it right back on.”

He nudged you, laughing.

“I don’t think it’s a bad plan but who will live there?”

“Us maybe. Separate housing of course but it could be a home away from the Lords. And any villagers left stragglers around.”

“I don’t think there are any left,” he told you.

“Well have you checked?” He was silent. “Exactly. Rose may want a place for herself one day, who knows.” You looked back down at her. She was reaching up to play with your ear.

“She’ll need friends her own age one day,” he said, solemnly.

“We’ll see to that when it comes.” He looked back at you.

“Have you and Heisenberg ever talked about kids?” he teased. You laughed.

“We have our hands full with Rose and the thousands of metal children he makes on the daily,” you admitted. You glanced down at Rose again. “But maybe one day. He seems to be hinting at it and I don’t know...maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”

Ethan glanced back at you and then quickly looked away. You looked happy, curious, wondering.

“If it’s any help...I’m glad I had her. Even if she got me into this whole mess,” he said laughing a bit. You smiled up at him as he pulled into the dock.

“You want a little Heisenberg running around?” Ethan scoffed.

“I wouldn’t mind a little you. Rose could have a friend.” He got out of the boat and you handed him Rose. You got out as well.

“We’ll see. Karl may be banking on it.” You both started to walk back into town. At the castle entrance you had to part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, if your legs still work.” You gasped, shoving him.

“You have a mouth on you Ethan Winters for living in a house with four other grown women,” you said. He laughed and went into the gate without saying anything else.

The walk back to the factory was a pleasant one. The sun was setting and the breeze was nice. Not too hot, not too cold.

You made it back to Karl in record timing. He wasn’t in the room so you went looking for him. He was in one of the work rooms, leaning over one of his new inventions. You walked up behind him and leaned over the head of the machinery.

“Hey there kitten! Back up, it might come alive at any second,” he muttered, moving you back. You nodded, stepping away from the table. He turned off his recording and turned around to look at you.

“Well how was swimming with Moreau?”

“And Rose and Ethan. I caught the tail end. She had fun though. You’re right, she is growing everyday.”

“I take it by you referencing our earlier conversation you remember how it ended.”

“I’m not doing it if this machine will come alive half way through and kill us.” Karl scoffed and took your hand.

“Up to the bedroom it is kitten!” You scoffed but let him drag you along, giggling the whole way up.

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagines #resident evil 8 imagines #resident evil village imagines #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #alcina dimitrescu #ethan winters

[minsyal]

The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

Feedback is always appreciated

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@ambiguous-g @ren-ni @metaphorical-love-for-a-car @lgbtomatoes

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg #re8 #re8 heisenberg #Resident Evil Village #resident evil heisenberg #lord heisenberg #resident evil 8 #re8 imagines