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whiteboyfight · 1 year

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Ultimate White-Haired Anime Guy Tournament

can’t read a damn thing on this bracket but it’s a half hour i will never get back.

Round 1

Ginko (Mushishi) vs Neutrophil (Cells at Work)

Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist) vs Killua Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

Shion (No. 6) vs Atsushi Nakajima (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Suzuya Juuzou (Tokyo Ghoul) vs Kite (Hunter x Hunter)

Sugawara Koushi (Haikyuu!!) vs Shogo Makishima (Psycho-Pass)

Soul Evans (Soul Eater) vs .5 of Todoroki (My Hero Academia)

Toshiro Hitsugaya (Bleach) vs Griffith (Berserk)

Near (Death Note) vs Qifrey (Witch Hat Atelier)

Jean Pierre Polnareff (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure) vs Inuyasha (Inuyasha)

Gintoki Sakata (Gintama) vs Noe Archiviste (Vanitas no Carte)

Nagito Komaeda (Dangan Ronpa) vs Archer (Fate/Stay Night)

Kakashi Hatake (Naruto) vs Clear (Dramatical Murder)

Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen) vs Yukito Tsukishiro/Yue (Cardcaptor Sakura)

Enrico Pucci (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure) vs Kaworu Nagisa (Neon Genesis Evangelion)

Decim (Death Parade) vs Allen Walker (D. Gray Man)

Sesshomaru (Inuyasha) vs Kaneki Ken (Tokyo Ghoul)

Polls go live at 8PM PST tomorrow (2/21)! See you there!

edit: all polls can be found under the "round 1" tag!

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gaoau · 4 months

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Wrath Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 2.4k

prev. — next.

Sometime during the course of the year, Osamu began wondering which class [Name] belonged to. Always meeting her when she had already been waiting at the music classroom didn't allow him to even try and bump into her half-way. To his surprise, a classmate approached him as the class bustled, birthing and preparing ideas for the upcoming school festival.

He was easy prey, considering he simply sat at his desk, visibly doing absolutely nothing at all. "Hey, Osamu-kun." Part of him insisted he should have remembered this boy's name from, at least, the back of his mind. He barely even remembered Suna's name at this point, so recognizing the poor student's face was enough of an accomplishment. He didn't seem to notice Osamu's internal conflict as he carried on speaking, "Couldja go get the Wicked Witch? We need her for the meeting."

Rumors flew around at the speed of light and word of the Wicked Witch even existing had reached Osamu at some point, but nobody ever mentioned the identity behind the insulting nickname. How on Earth was he supposed to find someone whose name he didn't know?

The student understood the confusion plastered across his face. The chuckle that darted out of his mouth told Osamu this boy didn't know her name either. "Just go up to the unused music room. She's usually there, from what I've heard."

He climbed all the way up to the third floor and to the classroom he himself often frequented with questions in his mind. The dots were very clearly presented to him in his face, yet his brain struggled to connect them. He refused to merely entertain the idea of his beloved crush being ostracized with such a disgusting label. It didn't even fit her—she was a lovely person. He knocked on the closed door once, twice, thrice, more times than he ever needed when calling for [Name]—even if he had already dropped the habit of knocking for her. Silence answered back. He opened the door and peered inside, only to find the room completely empty. Did anyone else apart from [Name] use that clubroom?

Returning to his classroom without success, he rounded the corner as questions upon questions piled up in the back of his head; who the actual fuck was the Wicked Witch and where was she? Any thought he was having vanished into thin air when he caught sight of [Name] resting against the vending machine. A smile painted itself on his lips instantly and he hurried his pace with a skip in his step to reach her faster. She stared up at him with a raised brow and bored eyes, taking a nonchalant sip from the can in her hand.

Stretched legs, slouched shoulders, skipping class; a stark contrast from her perfect form as she directed her band. Osamu appreciated every side of her she showed him without shame.

He crouched by her side, keeping enough distance so he wouldn't find the smallest of intricate details on her face. His heart couldn't take it. "Shouldn't ya be in class?"

"Shouldn't you?"

He laughed quietly to himself. "Fair." And the conversation ended. Osamu never thought straight when close to [Name], almost as if she squeezed the rationality out of him with only her presence. He sucked in a breath to give himself a chance to function properly, then asked, "D'ya know f'anyone uses the clubroom apart from us?" Us. It leapt off his tongue involuntarily, but he meant every syllable—the two of them as a whole.

She hummed in thought, her gaze straying away from him then returning with indifference. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"I'm lookin' for the Wicked Witch."

Osamu had only ever seen two emotions on [Name]'s face: indifference during every single moment of her life, and wrath when viciously barking at his brother. That day, in that hallway, crouched by that vending machine, he had the honor to see yet another one to add to his collection of precious memories. Although he couldn't quite name it, he watched as her eyes slowly grew from their narrowed boredom to a wide shock. "The who?" she whispered out, one sound after the other, missing the breath that had disappeared when his words knocked it away.

"The Wicked Witch," Osamu repeated. "Ya know her? They said she's at the music clubroom, but I couldn't find her."

Surprise morphed into fiery anger, much tamer than the time she confronted Atsumu, but anger nonetheless. She mumbled a seething, "Fucking hell," making Osamu cock a brow in confusion. "Osamu, it's me, I'm the Wicked Witch."

"You?" The dots connected in his mind just as soon as the sentence fled from her mouth, yet not completely for him to fully understand. Someone so lovely, someone people knew nothing about, someone that brought him happiness with a simple glance that wasn't so simple.

"Yeah."

"How?"

"What?"

"Why?"

He could see how his questions took her aback, leaving the cogs in her head to turn endlessly and find a proper response. She'd understood from the voices floating in every last corner of the school that students and teachers alike knew of her as the Wicked Witch. "Um, earlier this year, your nationals, yer brother… remember?" Of course he remembered; he'd been ecstatic the moment he heard her lash out at Atsumu with the same vocal chords she used to sing harmonious melodies. How was it that everyone else failed to see just how wonderful of a person [Name] was? Wicked Witch, mental, crazy, stuck-up, terrible temper. What about talented, spontaneous, reasonable, easy-going?

The smile she'd so effortlessly summoned to his face vanished in a millisecond upon discovering this new knowledge; the identity behind a vile nickname. People shit-talked her behind her back and right to her face without any consideration for the person she actually was. A person whose company was genuinely enjoyable, a person who Osamu was more than willing to chat with out of his own volition. He couldn't deny he was smitten, he couldn't ignore the fact that something about [Name] must have been magical, he couldn't pretend she didn't captivate him with nothing but a few sounds of her voice. But she wasn't a witch—he thought—let alone wicked. He couldn't stand by this.

Frowning brows, vacant gaze, snarling lips; he looked [Name] in the eye and saw her blink in mild surprise. "…Anyway, come, they're lookin' for ya." Osamu practically sprang back onto his feet, whipping around on his heels in the direction of his classroom. She followed after him close behind but in utter silence.

The table falls as silent as the memory Osamu is replaying for everyone to hear. He wears a pleased smirk on his face, peering down at his wife in his arms. She's staring off into a random spot of the venue to pretend she can't feel his eyes burning a hole on her skin. She gives in with a defeated sigh. "It was scary, okay?"

"What was?" Osamu hums mockingly.

"You. You looked ready to murder a man with your hands tied."

"I'm still willin'."

Atsumu raises his hand to move the spotlight onto him—he's spoken an awful lot considering it's not his wedding. "I wanna say he almost murdered me."

"Oh, yeah, that."

On days when anything other than volleyball miraculously occupied Atsumu's last braincell, an echoing quietide engulfed the gym all the way from the court up to the ceiling. If there was something more concerning than a chaotic Atsumu hollering his plans for evil into the wind, then that was a tight-lipped Atsumu pondering with furrowed brows. He sat cross-legged by his teammates, stretching and warming up his muscles in anticipation for an arduous training ahead. His eyes darted back and forth between Osamu and his shoes.

"So," he finally piped up after endless contemplation, "yer friends with the Wicked Witch."

Osamu had never felt his blood pressure rise up at such an astronomical speed; he could almost feel it boiling as it flowed through his veins. "Don't call her that," he mumbled in response. His low volume could've been mistaken by shame of being caught red-handed, even when he simply was keeping himself from committing homicide right then and there.

"Huh? Everyone does. Fits her, crazy bitch," Atsumu cackled loud enough for his laughter to bounce off the walls and back at the two of them.

"Say that again, I dare ya."

"What? Crazy bitch? C'mon, she's mental, ya saw how—" It was the last straw for Osamu, his self-restraint vanishing from his system before his brother could finish insulting the love of his life. His limbs moved on pure instinct, carrying in his muscles the seething rage of a billion suns as he backhanded Atsumu with every one of his four knuckles. His head whipped to the side upon impact, the strike echoed through the gym, and time froze for the spectators.

Suna pulled out his phone like his life depended on it, knowing better than anyone the twins would be at each other's throats in less than three seconds. Atsumu's eyes seemed to glow with fury as he pounced on his brother, fingers wrapping tightly around his neck and knee digging into his gut. They both screamed incoherently while blood spilled from open scratches. Aran walked out of the gym to pretend he hadn't witnessed anything at all.

Ironic how everything and anything in his life brought Osamu back to [Name]. Maybe she wasn't a witch, but she definitely was involved with magic in one way or another, seeing as she always tugged at the strings of his heart to pull him towards her—not that he minded. At the vending machine, he bought two snacks or two drinks. At home, he made an extra of his food. In the hallways, comments of the Wicked Witch reached him faster. Now as punishment for starting a fight with his brother, the authorities sent him to clean the music clubroom again.

He invited himself into the room without knocking, opening and closing the door with his foot as his hands were occupied with cleaning supplies. They exchanged his usual greeting with [Name] while she finished the piece on her cello. Her sound cut itself off when she scanned his bandaged face and the supplies he was holding. Her lips pursed for a second as she held back her laughter, but it soon burst and freely flooded the room with mirthful giggles. Another emotion to add to his collection.

Her laughter quieted down into faint chuckles and a breath of air. She was fixing the cello back into its case as she interrogated him, "Got hit by a truck?"

Osamu puffed a chuckle of his own. "Had a fight with my brother."

The zipper of the case sent shivers down his spine when she rapidly closed it. [Name] switched seats to the piano stool. She scoffed, "I don't get why I yelled at him one time an' suddenly I'm the Wicked Witch." Her fingers instinctively positioned themselves on the low-pitched keys. The chord she played reverberated into his soul. "Ya guys are out for blood on the daily and ain't called, I dunno, dumbass ogres or some shit. Must be 'cause you're hot, so you get a pass."

The way she rambled away so nonchalantly, Osamu almost forgot he shared a face with his brother. She thought he was hot, please, that must have surely meant he had a minimal chance with her. Hot was extremely superficial, but it was something. From feeling as though she hated him because he came from the same womb as Atsumu—not his choice, by the way—to hearing an off-handed compliment, it was progress.

He began cleaning with a newfound vigor, a motivation to sweep and dust and organize every inch of that music room. [Name] remained quiet as she hummed a made-up tune and fiddled with the notes on the piano. Perfect background noise for him to concentrate without losing himself in the distraction of her voice.

But curiosity seemed to get the better of [Name] as she played a simple song. "So," she piped up, and it sounded so much of Atsumu that he wondered whether he'd come to possess her. "What'd you fight over this time?" Osamu debated inside his brain if it was a good idea at all to answer honestly. But when she halted the music and turned to him, calling his name— "Osamu?" —so softly, his tongue came loose.

"You."

"What?"

"We fought over ya," he further explained as if it made any more sense.

"Okay?"

He recalled the conversation he'd had with his brother. "'Tsumu was shit-talkin' ya."

"…Okay?"

"Probably shouldn't've punched him, but it pissed me off." He clicked his tongue completely on instinct. People insulting [Name] got under his skin a lot more than he'd thought.

"…Okay…?"

"I wish he'd just actually meet ya."

Osamu returned to his senses when [Name]'s hum pierced through his ears. He'd blurted out way too much for his own good. "Why's that?" But she didn't seem to mind his forwardness.

"'Cause I know he'd like you, just his ego's still hurt from whatcha said."

[Name] hummed again. She did that quite a lot when pondering over the words she'd answer back with. "I don't think he'd like me."

"I'm sure he would." He didn't back down; he stood by his statement, by his beliefs. "Anyone would if they met ya." Genuinely, from the bottom of his lovesick heart, he knew [Name] to be an enjoyable presence. It wasn't his crush or his enchanted brain speaking, it was all those days spent hanging out together.

[Name] fell completely quiet as soon as she registered his comment. Osamu allowed the conversation to fizzle out after expressing himself, basking in the silence to carry on with the cleaning. Her fingers moved with a mind of their own while her throat clogged up and caved in on itself. Re, mi, fa, re, sharp do, flat ti, mi and la at the same time. D, E, F, D, sharp C, flat B, E and A at the same time. Whichever way she pictured it in her head, it remained as phantasmagorical as the music spoke. A mirage, an illusion; she couldn't believe her ears.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thanks," her voice croaked out, wavering and breaking into senseless soundwaves. Osamu recognized her fragility, but forced himself to keep quiet as she wiped her minuscule tears away.

#Wicked Witch #Haikyuu #Miya Osamu #Miya Osamu x Reader #Osamu x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

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constantbrainrot · 2 years

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yeah i can get through this term if i just hyperfixate on this media

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #spy x family #skip to loafer #chainsaw man #witch hat atelier #haikyuu!!#brainrot-posts

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oneshotprincess · 2 years

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Updates on what I'm up to:

Finally gotten around to playing the Final Fantasy 7 Remake properly!

I'm also watching a ton of anime with my friend all of a sudden:

Spy x Family

Komi Can't Communicate

Fruits Basket

Haikyuu!! (rewatch)

Little Witch Academia

Sailor Moon Crystal

If you're watching any of those, come say hiiii

#mine #ff7r #spy x family #komi can't communicate #fruits basket #haikyuu #little witch academia #sailor moon crystal #anime #manga #video games

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fandom · 5 months

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Anime & Manga

Do you hear the Drums of Liberation?

One Piece +5

Jujutsu Kaisen +1

Mob Psycho 100 +2

Chainsaw Man +8

Boku no Hero Academia -4

SPY x FAMILY -4

Trigun Stampede

Bungou Stray Dogs +11

Buddy Daddies

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure -2

Naruto -4

Mo Dao Zu Shi -2

Haikyuu!! -9

19 Days +3

Sailor Moon

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba -5

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System +9

Fullmetal Alchemist +2

Tian Guan Ci Fu -3

Bocchi the Rock!

Trigun Maximum

Dungeon Meshi +16

Attack on Titan -10

Death Note -6

Blue Lock

Yu-Gi-Oh! -12

Bleach -5

Gundam

Tokyo Revengers -20

Hetalia -9

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Revolutionary Girl Utena +6

Digimon -5

Kuroshitsuji

Hunter X Hunter -8

Neon Genesis Evangelion -10

Inuyasha -13

Dragon Ball Z -2

Soul Eater

Witch Hat Atelier

Trigun

Lupin III -9

Berserk -2

Fairy Tail -10

Yuri!!! on ICE -23

Detective Conan

Dorohedoro

Pop Team Epic -6

Sk8 the Infinity -20

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

#year in review #anime #manga #tumblr2023

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elizadrafts · 6 months

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how haikyuu boys wake you up

various haikyuu x gn!reader

a/n: this is all for fun please don’t get offended if your fav isn’t included! this took so long to write bc i couldn’t think of anything !! please send requests in my inbox !!!

flickering your lights on and off, it’s barely a quarter-past-nine and the two of you spent the night watching movies until witches hour. the scent of freshly made french toast wafted through the air, slowly bringing you back to consciousness. pushing yourself up to a sitting position, you noticed a mischevious glint in his eyes before he suddenly pushed your door wide open and left the room, leaving the bright lights on too.

SUNA, sakusa, OSAMU, sugawara, kuroo, TERUSHIMA, lev

loudly banging on your door. you two had a reservation for a new breakfast place in town that you’ve been talking about for weeks. he had tried waking you up almost two hours ago with no avail. at this point he’s given up, ready to drag you out of the comfortable bed and get you ready himself.

BOKUTO, hinata, ATSUMU, iwaizumi, NISHINOYA, TANAKA, yaku

gently shaking you awake. he knows how hectic your schedule has been recently. you’ve spent late nights awake finishing projects, so sleep is something you sought out for, and he regretted taking you from that calm haven. he had kept your lights off, prepared to give you as much time as you needed to get up. his shakes were just a reminder of the time so you didn’t spend the whole day in bed, at least come and see the sunlight by taking a nap on the couch.

AKAASHI, oikawa, kenma, KITA!!!, ushijima, yamaguchi

leaves you to sleep and goes about his own day

TSUKISHIMA, kageyama (on accident)

#haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #bokuto x reader #hinata x reader #akaashi x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #sugawara x reader #yaku x reader #atsumu x reader

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moonlightpetalz6 · 7 months

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Kinktober 2023 List!

Hello, Hello! This is my first time doing Kinktober, but I thought it would be fun and wanted to try it! (Please be nice; I'm fragile) Anyway, here is the list that I decided to go with! I hope it looks okay. (Idk why I'm so nervous to post this)

Side Note: All of these will of course come with warnings for the content written!

______________________________________________________________

Sebastian (Stardew Valley) X reader -Praise Kink

Yuma Mukami (Diabolik Lovers) X reader -Vampire

Tetsurō Kuroo (Haikyuu) X reader -Punishment

Dio Brando (JJBA) X Virgin reader -stygiophilia

Belphegor (Obey Me) X reader -Somnophilia

Sekido (Demon Slayer) X reader -electrostimulation

Choso (JJK) X reader -Blood kink

Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece) X reader -Food play

Dad Mammon (Obey Me) X mom reader -Lactation

Original Ryomen Sukuna (JJK) X Witch reader

Megumi Fushiguro (JJK) X reader -Wax play

Demon Kyōjurō Rengoku (Demon Slayer) X reader -Breeding

Leonidas (Record of Ragnarok) X reader -Size kink

Raihan X reader x Leon (Pokemon) -Cuckolding

Satoru Gojo (JJK) X reader -Phone sex

Switch Goku (Dragon Ball) X switch reader - Marking

Vegeta (Dragon Ball) X reader - Dacryphelia

Ryota Kise (KNB) X reader - katoptronophilia

Smoker (One Piece) X pirate reader -Nebulophilia

Taiju Shiba (Tokyo Revengers) X reader -corruption kink

Dragon Natsu Dragneel X reader x Dragon Gajeel Redfox (Fairy Tail)

Camboy Suguru Geto (JJK) X Camgirl reader - Edging

Poseidon (Record of Ragnarok) X reader -Humiliation

Kento Nanami (JJK) X reader -Pet play

Hotaru Haganezuka (Demon Slayer) X reader -Aphrodisiac

Shunsui Kyōraku (Bleach) X reader -Blackmail

Toji Fushiguro (JJK) X reader -Fingering

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez (Bleach) X bunny espada reader -Primal play

Loki (Record of Ragnarok) X human reader -Degradation

Karaku (Demon Slayer) X human reader -Overstimulation

Ichigo Kurosaki (Bleach) X reader -Pegging

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fandomtrumpshate · 2 months

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Listed fandom fun

A bit of random data before we jump into the rankings for listed fandoms …

Since the numbers post yesterday we've had signups for nearly 60 new auctions, bringing the current total to 779. That beats the number of signups for 2016/7, 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021, and puts us withing spitting distance of our record last year of 819. Can we do it? Will we do it? Signal boost FTH posts and encourage others to participate. More money raised for good causes, more fanworks in the world — it's a win/win!

We posted yesterday about the state of our unlisted write-in fandoms (we've had nine new ones since then!). Time to check in with the rankings for the listed fandoms.

At the top of the pack we have:

87 K-Pop * 66 Good Omens 50 Sherlock Holmes * 44 Harry Potter * 37 Marvel * 32 DC * 31 Mo Dao Zu Shi / The Untamed 27 Red, White, & Royal Blue 25 Star Wars * 23 Scum Villain's Self-Saving System

Our first tie is for 11th place -

22 Avatar The Last Airbender 22 Teen Wolf

And after that, nearly every other place is a tie. And which ones are ties for which places can be shifted slightly with just one signup. Or completely upended with two. Where will your fandom land?

Remember that if your fandom isn't here (or in the rest of the list below the cut), you can write it in. Signups are OPEN through Monday!

19 Supernatural 18 9-1-1 and 9-1-1 Lone Star 18 Locked Tomb Trilogy 18 Stranger Things 17 All for the Game 16 Our Flag Means Death 16 Tolkien * 16 The Witcher 15 Boku no Hiro Akademia (My Hero Academia) 15 Original Work 15 Percy Jackson and the Olympians 14 Baldur's Gate 3 14 Hockey RPF 12 The Old Guard 12 Tian Guan Ci Fu (Heaven Official's Blessing) 11 The Magnus Archives 11 Star Trek * 10 Check Please! 10 Dungeons & Dragons 10 Haikyuu!!! 10 Hazbin Hotel 10 Jujutsu Kaisen 9 A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon 9 One PIece 8 Doctor Who * 8 Hades (video game) 8 Heartstopper 8 James Bond 8 Kingsman 8 Merlin 8 Naruto 8 Suits 7 Dragon Age * 7 Justified 7 Raven Cycle 7 Rusty Quill Gaming Podcast 7 The Sandman 7 Shadowhunters 7 SK8 the Infinity 6 Captive Prince 6 Critical Role 6 Final Fantasy * 6 Fullmetal Alchemist 6 Hannibal 6 Kinnporsche 6 The Maze Runner 6 Queen's Thief 6 Stargate 6 Steven Universe 6 Top Gun Movies 6 Yuri!!! On Ice 5 Alex Rider 5 Grishaverse 5 Interview With The Vampire 5 Malevolent (Podcast) 5 The Murderbot Diaries 5 Nirvana in Fire 5 The Owl House 5 RWBY 4 Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun (The Husky & His White Cat Shizun) 4 Genshin Impact 4 Les Misérables 4 The Magicians 4 Pokemon 4 Witch Hat Atelier 3 Arcane 3 Disney's Descendants 3 Elder Scrolls 3 Hetalia 3 Hunger Games 3 Legend of Zelda 3 Spy x Family 3 Tian Ya Ke / Word of Honor 3 Trigun 3 Welcome to Night Vale 3 Wheel of Time 3 Young Royals 2 Benoit Blanc Mysteries (Knives Out, Glass Onion) 2 Disco Elysium 2 Encanto 2 Gundam Wing 2 The Last of Us 2 Leverage 2 Miraculous Ladybug 2 Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries 2 Mysterious Lotus Casebook 2 Schitt's Creek 2 Super Mario Bros. 1 Assassin's Creed 1 Attack on Titan 1 Diamond no Ace 1 Fire Emblem Three Houses 1 Homestuck 1 Stellar Firma 1 Wednesday / The Addams Family

#fth 2024 #fandom trumps hate #fanworks charity auction #listed fandoms #numbers #signups are OPEN

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gaoau · 4 months

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Wicked Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 779

prev. — next.

Cackles and chortles travel through each person sitting at the table. [Name] vibrates as she snorts to herself, burying her face in Osamu's neck to muffle the sound of her roaring laughter. Although everyone finds amusement in this portion of the tale of Osamu's high-school love, there's one particular ego that has been greatly wounded. The newlyweds glance towards Atsumu sitting beside his brother, an insulted scowl twisting his every feature at the infuriating memory of their first encounter. [Name] finds Osamu's eyes and they burst out laughing together at the best man's expense.

It's enough to shove Atsumu over the edge; when he slams his fist down on the table, his plate bounces off a few centimeters. He points an accusatory finger at [Name]. "Ya were completely unhinged. Crazy bitch."

"Hey, hey." Osamu slaps his hand away before he dares get any closer to his wife. "More respect. 'Twas kinda hot, not gonna lie."

[Name] gasps and tears away from her husband's arms, her palm instinctively attacks him with a weak shove. "'Samu, I was a piece of shit back then."

"A hot one."

"Yeah, a hot-headed piece of shit."

"Shut up, 'Tsumu."

"Shuddup, 'Tsumu."

It's almost frightening how easy it is for a soul to blend into another. Osamu has more coordination and silent languages with his wife than he's ever had with his brother.

"I still have the video," Suna pipes up to rub more salt on their wounds. He's holding his phone up for the table to see—the device is new, yet the memories remain the same. [Name]'s seething voice comes through the speakers as they immerse themselves in past wrath and current amusement.

Osamu carries on.

It didn't take long for the vile nickname of Wicked Witch to spread around the entirety of the Inarizaki campus. From first-years, to third-years, to faculty. Some whispered about the Wicked Witch and her disgusting personality, claiming to have witnessed her lashing out at Miya Atsumu first-hand. Others sympathized with her and praised her for setting her foot down against the demanding setter.

Whichever stance they took, [Surname] [Name]'s name was never mentioned once, and instead people spoke of her as the Wicked Witch. Who cared, anyway, who was the lunatic that had barked and growled at the volleyball team over an interrupted music piece? Who cared, anyway, who was the poor soul they were defending because if they'd had the guts, they would've done the exact same thing?

"I heard f'ya bother her, she'll chew ya out, maybe beat ya up."

"D'ya think she ever got in a fight? Looks to me like she'd do that."

"She's called a witch 'cause she's all talk, dude. She ain't puttin' up no fight."

While [Name] passed by in the hallways, shoulders squared and spine straight, her grip around the strap of her satchel tightened. She couldn't tell if they chattered while knowing she could hear them or if they were simply trying to throw dirt at her behind her back. She scowled at them regardless, flinging a poisonous glower in hopes of clamping their mouths shut for her sanity. The students flinched as if being caught committing a crime. Nervous smiles found their way onto their faces and they waved at her like they were friends greeting one another routinely.

"Guys, she was just mad. You'd be too in her place."

Her glare vanished at that. Not to say her faith in humanity had been restored, but some were left of those who used common sense and a mere dash of rationality. The student turned on her heels when she didn't receive a response from her circle. Her eyes found [Name]'s blank stare and she flinched on instinct. Her voice involuntarily darted out in a whispered oh, shit, making her instantly slap both hands over her mouth.

[Name] nodded at her, sharp pupils of an exhausted gaze piercing into a trembling bunny. "Thanks," she mumbled to the frightened girl. Just as quick, she resumed her stroll to the music clubroom.

"Didja hear 'bout the Wicked Witch?"

"Dude, I did! The fuck's her problem?"

"I mean, I kinda get where she's comin' from."

"But why make a scene? Sheesh, grow up."

"Great talent, terrible temper."

"Ain't it sorta mean to call her Wicked Witch?"

Silence pulled an extra chair to sit at the gossip table. The students shrugged their shoulders at their friend's comment to hop onto a different subject. Yet Osamu couldn't help but have his curiosity piqued.

#Wicked Witch #Haikyuu #Miya Osamu #Miya Osamu x Reader #Osamu x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

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concussed-to-pieces · 5 months

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Wolves At The Door; Epilogue

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale @jackie-loves-yalls-writing @simplysolo @teeheemax

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

8. Backslide

9. Tender Gray Light

10. Hubris’ Weight

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person.

Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting.

Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.

Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.

…

“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.”

Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart.

“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”

“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”

You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head.

You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”

“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”

“Huh?”

He simply winked, then gestured at the doe.

You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.

“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland.

You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees.

The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.

“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”

“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”

You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”

“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”

He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”

“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”

“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?”

“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.

He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”

You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”

The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”

…

Damn, it's quiet.

It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!

The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed.

Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–

No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion.

He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against.

It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?

A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.

Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down.

How long has it been?

And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?

Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out?

Was any of it real?

The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over.

He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.

He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.

It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over.

As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have.

When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?

It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…

“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”

I have to see them. And when I do, I…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters?

His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.

The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets.

Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…

He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.

To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.

It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously. At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.

He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…

The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went.

He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.

He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more).

Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there.

Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.

He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…

He had to apologize.

He had to make this right.

If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying.

Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.

Speaking of which.

Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it.

It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.

Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.

He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?

No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him.

You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…

Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.

…

Keep your lanterns lit.

And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude.

It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.

With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it.

You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right?

You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.

You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char.

Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone.

You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile.

A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.

“Sugar.”

Karl.

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”

You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”

It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.

…

Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar.

Sugar.

He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you.

You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy.

You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”

Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”

“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”

“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow.

Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty.

You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”

“Lunch?”

You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly.

So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…

From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.

“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned.

“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”

The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.

The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…

He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.

Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.

…

You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.

He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.

Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.

Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure.

God, you had missed him so much.

To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”

You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–

Scared?

He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.”

Were you blushing?! Dammit!

“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”

“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”

“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”

One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn.

Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”

“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”

“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”

“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”

“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.

“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.

“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.

“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”

What.

What?!

Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.

I think I love you.

“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.

“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.

“Is it…are you okay with it?”

Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”

You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway.

Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”

“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling.

“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”

You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table.

Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.

“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”

“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”

“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”

Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”

Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”

“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”

…

He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.

Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.

His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.

Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm.

“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.

“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance.

But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”

I love you.

“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.

“Of course I do.”

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #epilogue

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joyboygojo · 4 months

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