#cough karl heisenberg

[swirlymark]

Venture you have no idea how much I love you

[papastrawbeary]

Thinking about him again....

(Old art, done in watercolor and pencil)

[reobsessed]

Sickness In His Care

Pairing: Reader X Karl Heisenberg. Content Warning: 18+, Mentions of sex but no actual sex in the story itself, Reader X Karl Heisenberg fic, slight humour. Can't think of any other warnings but please let me know in the comments if I missed anything. Summary: You'd been seeing Karl Heisenberg for a while now and had since started staying in the factory. However, one day you come down with a fever. Expecting him not to care you do your best to avoid him but you find yourself at a loss for words when he tries to take care of you. This is just a short one, inspired by my current illness. Wanted to write about a sick reader being taken care of by Karl =p Hope you enjoy! Might add more one-shots to this series later. Thanks again to Suri for editting and reads!

Your body was racked by coughs and splutters, occasionally drowned out by the sound of heavy machines whirring. You did your best to fall asleep but the oppressive heat of both your fever and the humid factory air wouldn’t allow for that. How Heisenberg worked in this, day in, day out boggled your mind. You had a lot of questions concerning that man.

With no such luck in drifting off, you flung your legs over the side of the makeshift bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself, for modesty’s sake. You made your way to the main elevator and adjusted your underwear while you walked.

Despite their inability to see, you felt intimidated beneath the many dead eyes of the factory. They’d long since had the life and humanity extinguished from them, but much like a porcelain doll, their eyes followed you across the hall.

Unfortunately you weren’t wearing any shoes either. They’d been discarded halfway across a room, (you couldn’t remember which) when he’d accosted you from behind several nights before. He did that sometimes, he’d enter a room irritated, ranting and raving about his ‘life’s work’, Mother Miranda or some other insignificant event. Then as he would throw his coat to the floor he’d come up behind and bury his face in the crook of your neck. It was his silent plea for attention, the only release in his life that didn’t coincide with destructive violence.

Things would get rough sometimes. Tumbling around with shrapnel and a dirty man who never left his basement certainly had its risks; but at the end of it all, nothing ever went outside of your comfort zone. Cruel and ruthless Lord Heisenberg was capable of some decency, if only in that regard.

Memories of the prior night filled you with excitement. You brought your hand to the swollen cluster of love bites mapped across your chest and neck. You’d returned the favour, and left a colourful array dotted across his neck, ensuring they were in full view of any who encountered him. You hoped to God he got called into a family meeting sometime soon. With an impish giggle you clicked the button on the elevator and ascended to the top floor. You hoped he was anywhere but his office, but unfortunately your luck had run out around the same time you’d met him.

As soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his side profile, head in hands, slumped over a diagram on the table. Probably sulking again.

“The fuck are you doing in here? I thought I told you not to bother me while I’m working.” He let out a puff of cigar smoke. Didn’t even have the decency to look at you. Dick.

As per your usual pettiness you ignored him and made a beeline for the door at the back of the room. Suddenly you toppled backwards as a thin chain of metal wrapped itself around your wrist, not intended to hurt you but to stop you from going any further. However, he’d miscalculated and hadn’t noticed your sickly state until after you’d begun to tumble backwards. As you fell to the ground, he steadied you with more offcuts of metal.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he raised his voice, a combination of tiredness and confusion. 

Metal clattered to the floor as he stood up. With a rough grip, he pulled you upright and turned you to face him. He studied you intently, glasses slipping down past his nose. You stared into his eyes, watching as anger dissipated into uncharacteristic worry.

Heisenberg was never good at concealing his emotions, especially not his anger and now this too, apparently.

“I just wanted some fresh air,” you croaked.

Cigar smoke choked your already irritated throat and you began another coughing fit, you tried your best to turn away but his burly arms held you in place. You were shocked that he didn’t seem to mind when you spluttered all over his stained work shirt but then again, you’d covered him in worse things.

“Forgot humans get sick, haven’t been sick in over forty years.”

“Certainly starting to get sick of you.” 

You couldn’t see his eyes behind the blackened glasses, but you knew he was rolling them.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He grabbed your arm and shook it. “What do you do when one of these gets sick?”

“Well, I was hoping to avoid you turning me into one of your new toys, but I guess that’s up in the air now,” you sniffed, swallowing a large glob of phlegm stuck at the back of your throat.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” he sneered at you, now holding you away from him at arm’s length.

“I can’t help it,” you spat, attempting to pull yourself free. “And besides, have you smelt yourself recently?”

“Wait a minute, I have something for this!” His grip slipped from your wrist and fell into your hand. You let out a nasalled grunt as he dragged you across the room to his desk. After rummaging around with one hand he pulled out a dusted bottle from the bottom drawer. “This should do the trick.”

Your nose wrinkled when you looked at the awaiting bottle. It was covered in a thick layer of grime and much of the writing had worn off the label a long time ago, based on the few remaining letters you assumed this used to be some kind of ‘medicine’. You turned it over to see the date ‘1923’ printed along the bottom.

“Yep. I’ll be better in no time with this.” You swivelled the bottle, watching as black ooze splashed against the sides. He had a triumphant grin on his face and you couldn’t bring yourself to ridicule him further. “Right, well I’m going outside.”

“Dressed like that?”

“What are you, my dad?”

He pulled the blanket around your shoulders and touched a gloved hand to your forehead.

“You’re cold.”

Stifling yet another cough, you laughed softly. 

“How can you tell? You’re wearing gloves, you buffoon.”

He wrapped you in an embrace, only when held in the stillness of his arms did you realise that you’d been shivering this entire time. Had your fever turned to chills? With his arms still around you he pulled you over to his chair and sat you in his lap, presumably so he could keep working.

“So… you not gonna turn me into a Soldat after all?” you laughed nervously.

He brought the cigar to his lips. “Bad materials.”

You slapped his chest playfully and turned to nestle yourself in his arms. Usually after sex you’d push him away, the man radiated far too much heat in the already sweltering factory, but you were currently thankful for the warmth. It must have been awkward trying to work around the mass of your body, but he didn’t complain. As the two of you sat together you came to the realisation that he wasn’t doing any work at all, and that in reality, all he wanted to do was sit with you in his arms while you recovered.

Fuck.

Somewhere along the way the two of you had lost yourselves. What was supposed to have been a one-night stand had spiralled into weekly hookups, and from there it had turned into shared space and something akin to actual concern for one another. You were filled with a sense of dread, but you pushed it down in favour of sinking further into his chest. Before you drifted off, you could have sworn you felt the brush of his lips against your hair. 

A bitter sweetness churned your stomach. You felt a unique longing, beyond anything you’d ever felt for anyone else. Sex and desire had become secondary in favour of a new want; if only you had more time to spend in comfortable silence together.

[thewritersaddictions]

Request- (RE8) Karl Heisenberg: Needy Little Girl

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Summary: Hiding your crush on your English teacher seems to fail when he makes you stay after class.

Warnings: Smut, Consensual, needy behavior, sluty behavior, BJs, PinV, a little cursing. Fluffy smut, fluff.

A/N: This is for anon; I know you sent this request a while ago. I promise it was worth the wait. Thank you for the request; remember, the inbox is always open!

WC: 1.9k

Requests Master List // Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List

You wish you could start the day the way you ended it. The college class fills quickly, but you’re always early. You’re always waiting for him to come stalking through the doorway, smelling cigar smoke and burnt wood. 

Your professor is a massive hunk of man. Large arms that make the white collared shirts he wears bulge and give way with every movement he makes. Long legs that are framed in jeans, hugging his ass and showing off everything else in the process. 

That booming voice has you squeezing your thighs together, but the reality is you leave that class every single day with a ruined pair of panties, and when you get back to your dorm, there are only thoughts of him when you slip your hand down the front of your tight jeans. 

You should focus on the lecture, but you can’t get your mind or your eyes to focus on the computer screen before you. All you see is your professor pacing back and forth in front of the chalkboard. The loud booming voice that soothes you into a sweet lul mutters about something to do with your new essay project. “Please remember that we may make fun of Shakespeare and his many stories, but they all have a great deal of meaning and foreshadowing. I want you to write something that…” His words stop momentarily, and his eyes gaze over the lecture hall. Your ankles are crossed, and you sit a little higher when his graze hits you. Feeling hot all over, you don’t back down, “Write something that can grasp the reader’s attention in just that way. Write the trauma that is the indecision.” He finally finishes, drops his gaze from me, and returns his attention to the chalkboard. 

You wonder momentarily if anyone else feels the heat and tension you always feel when he’s looking at you. Eventually, you have to return your attention to your blank Google Doc. The bright screen hurts your eyes, and nothing comes into your brain except explicit thoughts of your professor—your much older, hotter professor. 

An hour later, when the class has come to an end, every single other person has picked their shit up and packed it away into their bags. You’re stuck writing because you eventually did get the words to form in your head. A cough draws you from your thoughts and the screen before you. When you look up, he’s standing there staring at you. 

“Miss, L/n? Class is over.” He says. You nod and start to pack your things. Closing your laptop, but yet again, you’re met with his eyes staring into you. Making your skin burn, “Miss, L/n, I need to talk with you.” Your professor says, even though you’re so close to the damn door you have to turn around and go right back to the man that makes your legs wobble, and your heart beat faster. “Yes Professor Heisenberg.” You say as you hold the remaining books tightly against your chest. “I need to talk to you about something private, and this lecture hall needs to be used in the next ten minutes, so follow me to my private office so we can talk there.” You nod, and wait for your professor to grab his own bag and laptop. You follow next to him, the sound of sneakers squeaks, and little kittens heels fill the air in the hallway. Walking with him has your cheeks warm, and knowing that you’re going to be in his private office. 

Alone. 

Alone with a hot, older professor that has you ruining panties, and squeezing your thighs so tightly that you hope the dull ache goes away. Your professor stops making you bump into him. If your fantasy didn’t already have you thinking he was a strong, beefy man then bumping into him surely made all your fantasy come true. The key jingles against the lock letting you in first. You sit down, and wait until you see Professor Heisenberg move around the desk and sit in the chair on the other side. 

The air is thick and unspoken tension, so you’re the one to break it. “Um… sir, why did we need to talk?” You ask your books now resting on your lap, your legs crossed, and you back pressed up against the back of the chair. “I wanted to talk to you about… um” his words die in his throat and for the first time your professor seems completely amiss. A loss for words is something you’ve never seen on the man before. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask worry etching into your soft features. “No you haven’t. God no, I just.. you..” He’s a mumbling mess in front of you. “Professor, maybe I should come back some other time.” That’s what you say, not that that is what you’re thinking. 

Being in his lecture hall is enough, watching him pace is enough, but now you’re here in his private office. The word private keeps blinking in your mind, his private office that smells more of cigars and burnt coffee. Where his degree hangs on the wall and the papers scatter the hardwood top of his desk. He rolls his lips together, and then looks towards you. 

There’s something behind those eyes. Like a cat got his tongue, then all the sudden the words fall from his very kissable mouth. “You Y/n are an absolute distraction for me.” Your brows shot up with a little bit of hurt mixed in, “Oh no not like that darlin’ I’m saying that having you in my class makes everything ten times harder to focus on, because all I can see out of the corner of my eye is you. Clenching those thighs together as you try to focus on your screen, but I catch you staring at me all the time. Those beautiful eyes lost in la-la land. What are you thinking about huh?” Your shoulders drop, and embarrassment courses through your body. You’ve been caught, but it seems that your day dreams, and fantasies were not one sided. You place your bag on the floor, and let your books fall as you get up from across the desk. “I’m thinking of you Professor Heisenberg. About what these large hands do to my body. How your touch would feel. I think about you all the damn time. I’m so needy for you.” You mutter the last part. Holding his hands feeling the weight of them in your own much smaller ones. 

You can feel the ruined panites, soaking through your jeans. Heisenberg's eyes glaze over, and something shifts in the room, from tension to desire. He’s quick to meet you halfway around the desk. He stands so much taller than you, then the way he man-handles you to sit on the side of the desk has you wish you could strip off all your pieces of clothing right then and there. 

“”I’m so fucked…” He whispers before taking your lips with his. There’s a fight, but you both know that you’ll be giving yourself over to your professor in a matter of minutes. Your arms wrap around his wide shoulders balancing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss further. He seems to notice, and takes a second of your precious time together and picks you up plopping you onto the desk. In the same motion his hands are digging into your jeans and yours are trying to get his belt undone. “By the way, buttercup call me Karl, not professor or heisenberg. I wanna hear you moan my name when you cum. His words make you fumble with his belt, but he seems to be able to do two things at once because your jeans are already unbuttoned and his hand is reaching into cup your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ hell wet are the damn river. Is this what you go through every day, hmm such a poor baby.” He teases, but that's all the teasing he does. He’s far to desperate for forplay and your thankful because the next set of words that were gonna come out of your mouth were gonna be ‘if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might explode.’ Karl helps you the rest of the way with your shirt, bra and then he helps himself to ripping himself out of the slacks, and his button up. 

Leaning back you hit a few objects on the way down. “Um… Karl can we move some of this stuff?” You ask your voice shy and timid. “Of course.” With one big sweep of his arm the objects fly to the floor, the name plague landing with a thund, and the stapler clicking to the floor. “Thank you.” He hums, and returns his attention to your body. 

Nipples hard waiting to be played with. Pussy soaked and yearning to be touched, he kisses you first. You can feel the weight of his cockd sitting against your thigh, and when you look down you aren’t surprised to get the feeling that it might not fit. Karl can sense your unease. “Don’t worry buttercup, we’ll make it fit won’t we.” He says as he taps the tip of his cock to your sensitive clit. All your worry fades away as your body heats up like flame in an oven. It’s not until the tip of his cock notches at your entrance do you look back up at him. There’s a devilish smirk written all over his face, and you can’t help but drag him down to meet your lips, wrapping your legs around his hips, and pulling him fully in. 

There’s no waiting, no making sure he fits, or going easy. The pain only fuels the urge for him to almost pull all the way out and push right back in. The lamp that didn’t land on the floor from the desk shakes, and your moans start to fill the small office. He doesn’t even put a hand over your mouth to cover your screams of ecstasy. A large thumbs sitting over your clit, pulling tight circles over it pushing you over the edge, and as you go Karl thrust becomes harder and faster. He’s pushing himself to catch up with you. 

If he was a gentleman he would have prepped you, taken you out to dinner before fucking you like an absolute animal but a part of him thinks that how you like it. Being taken, whisked away and fucked for all to hear. Hell someone could knock or just burst in at any moment. Your tits bounce with every erratic thrust, your nails dragging against the back of his neck. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum again.” You scream and it’s Karls undoing. Tight, wet, warm walls squeeze him tightly, barely letting him leave to thrust back into your warm heat. “Fuck me Karl, just like that!” 

Your chest rises and falls as you both try to catch your breath, sweaty, and sticky from sex. The room smells like it too, but that alright especially when Karl reaches over your body still deep inside you to grab a few tissues to clean you up the best he can. “By the way” You say in a huff. “You can call me Y/n.” You say sarcastically, as if the moment here will ever happen again. “I will darlin’.” He says with a wink.

Completed on: 03/29/24

Posted on: 04/05/24

HH Tags-

[iwriteloveletters]

Savior (Karl Heisnberg x Reader) - Chapter One

Words - 1957

A plague overtook your village, everyone was dying left and right. No one knows what it was or where it came from. And praying to Mother Miranda didn’t stop or slow down the illness. 

“We have to leave you outside.” Your mother says.

 You caught the plague as well.

Every breath you took felt like pins and needles, your skin felt as though it was on fire, not to mention the peeling that was happening on your hands and feet. You were miserable and dying, and yet your mother was more worried about throwing you out in the cold streets of your village to die. 

“Please, mama.” Your sister says, she didn’t want to see you die–she had hope for your survival. 

“No! We have to take them outside, this plague will not get the rest of my family too.” She shouts. 

You lay there helpless on the floor, you were in and out of consciousness. You were certain you were dying. 

All you hear is your mother and sister bicker for a while longer, your father sits there helplessly; he’s unsure of what to do. He doesn’t want to give up his oldest child but he doesn’t want to lose his wife or daughter as well. 

“It’s final! They will be sent outside.” She says while she and your father hauls you outside while wrapped in blankets as to not touch you. 

You have no clue how far you were from home but you only understood how cold it was. 

You felt yourself sink into the cold earth, wondering what it is that’ll take you. Will it be the plague, the cold, or the lycans that are on the prowl every once in a while? 

Whatever it was that would take you, you had no choice but to succumb to it. This will be how you die. You cannot fight or avoid this.

Your parents said no goodbyes, nothing felt sentimental about being hauled off like a corpse no one cared to bury.

All you could do was think, and barely that. You still kept going in and out of consciousness. Your body is still trying to make attempts at resting. You consider yourself dead, truthfully. You were nothing but a body that was harvesting deadly bacteria; you were contagious on top of that–no one dared to see those caught with the plague. Though, they were treated more kinder than this. They weren’t hauled off with no say in how it was going to be. You were in an unknown area in the dead of winter. It was only your parents who seemed to have hated you enough to get rid of you given the chance. 

You think back to the times when you were actually living, you weren’t the most perfect or kind person in the village. Perhaps this was Mother Miranda's way of having you atone for your sins. In fact, the entire village seemed to be atoning.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A male voice rang in your head.

You give him no response. You were unable to.

You feel him lift your arms and turn your head as a way to examine you, you can barely open your eyes but from what you were able to see in your blurred vision was Lord Karl Heisneberg, this felt like a mirage. 

He clicked his tongue, “let’s see what we can do with you.” He says as he lifts you into his arms, he was warm but he smelled strongly of sweat and oil.

You had no choice but to let him do whatever he pleased with you. He was possibly turning you into a sick human experiment, everyone knew the Lords were usually up to no good. This situation you were in will be at the expense of something. Nothing was out of the kindness of a Lord's heart, certainly not Heisenbergs. 

“Where are you taking me, my Lord?” You finally had the energy to cough up.

He chuckled, “I may fix or ruin your life, up to how you take it.”

You blacked out after his response, you’re sure he says something extra here and there but you never got to comprehend it. It all melted into echoed chuckles and mumbles. 

Your body was no longer cold, without opening your eyes you knew were somewhere indoors. There were various voices around you, they were arguing about what to do with you. 

You wanted to die but it felt as though they had different plans for you. One of them did at least. Through opened eyes here and there you could see the four Lords and Mother Miranda herself! You felt a bit embarrassed being seen in your current state, you don’t know what they wanted from you but you spent your entire life being taught what to do had you been in a situation where they ‘called’ you to see them. No one knows what they wanted from everyday people, but it felt like such a high honor to be in their presence. Everyone teaches their children on how to approach each and every one of them. Being diseased in their presence felt extremely disrespectful, your mother would have had a heart attack if she knew. 

“It might benefit you in the long run Mother Miranda, you never know!” Karl said, you have no clue what he wants from her or what it has to do with you. 

After more negotiation Mother Miranda agrees to what Heisenberg has been asking for, what it was exactly was still something you didn’t understand. 

“Come along then.” She sighed, Heisenberg taking you back in arms again, you open your eyes to various halls here and there. 

“What’s going on?” You choke up. 

“We’re going to make you better.” Mother Miranda said. 

You could feel your last bit of energy pass through your body over this news, “you have the cure, Mother Miranda?” 

“It’s better than a cure, my dear.” She said softly.

For a moment you felt safe with these people. Safer than you ever could with your mother and father who left you for dead. They could’ve come here for answers! Since you got in so easily it should be no problem, right? 

Or so you thought. 

You spent the next four hours in surgery, the last thing you were told before the pain took everything out of you was that you will be receiving a wonderful gift, the Cadou was inserted through your heart and you spent the next three days in pain. 

There Mother Miranda writes in her notes about your progress while you lay comatose for these few days, Lady Dimitrescu’s maids were tasked with caring for you, Heisenberg would occasionally stop by and talk to you about mundane topics such as his day or newest Soldat he put together, but you couldn’t hear anything. To you it felt like your body could get the rest it needed despite the dreadful pain you experienced. Beforehand, you were unable to sleep properly because of how horribly everything was due to the illness.

Y/N L/N

Age: 24 

Occupation: Farmer

Day one… the surgery was a success. No signs of being the ideal host yet, skin around the hands and feet appear to be turning black, almost like frostbite. Will give it two more days before the subject is pronounced dead.

Day two… skin seems to be clearing up slowly but surely, the subject is able to move and it's as though they’re simply sleeping. Still no signs of being the ideal host… the maids are complaining of the room feeling below freezing… later in the afternoon the subject's finger appeared to have been frozen off, yet when I examined them a new finger was there untouched, in fact it was no longer black unlike the rest of the hand. I believe the blackened limbs will start to fall off and grow new again any moment now… the fallen limbs seem to have turned into pieces of ice and later water due to the temperature no longer supporting the ice. The room temp has now been regulated. 

Day three… The subject is nowhere near an ideal host for Eva. They’ve appeared to be back to normal. I will have to examine them again when they’ve awakened. Seems to have the gift of ice. I will have to try again soon. 

By the fourth day, you’ve finally awakened. You feel like you’re freezing but you’re no longer sick. 

“Good morning.” You hear a familiar voice speak to you. 

You sit up and see an older woman from your village placing water on the table across from you, you haven’t seen her in years. 

“Anna?” You said, your voice was hoarse due to not speaking in days.

“Oh, Y/N.” She said, “I’m so sorry for what they've done to you.” She frowned. 

“What are you talking about?” You looked at your hands and they appeared to be fine, last you remember they were red and peeling. Overall, you felt pretty great besides the chills you experienced, but it was late December, of course it was going to feel cold. Especially in what looked like such an old castle. 

“Do you know where you are, child?” Anna questions you.

You shake your head, hoping she’d give you the answer. 

“The Dimitrescu castle!” She exclaimed. 

You felt your body go numb, your hands shook, everything kept becoming more and more confusing. 

“Why? All I remember was Lord Heisenberg carrying me to an unknown area! Am I in trouble with Mother Miranda?”

Before Anna could answer, there she walked in. The woman you only heard of in prayer and sermon. Sometimes you doubted her existence but there she was right before you. 

“My child…” She whispers as she makes her way over to you, “how are you feeling?”

You felt paralyzed, you didn’t know what the right words were while you sat in front of her. You wanted to cry and thank her for her mercy even though you’ve done nothing wrong but at the same time everything you did felt wrong and sinful. 

“I’m okay… where am I?” 

She chuckled and grabbed your arm, she put it down shortly after. “You’re freezing. Do you feel cold?”

“No, Mother Miranda.” Which was half true, you felt completely fine despite the chills.

“That’s great, I would like for you to meet everyone else.”

You grew slightly frustrated but perhaps she’ll explain there or on the way. But you know better than to show it. 

She had Anna hand you a pair of new shoes, which were lined with fur on the inside, perfect for the brutal winter. 

You walk down a series of confusing hallways with intricate designs on them, she kept quiet. As did you, you were taught how to act but never how to speak to her, she was never someone you spoke to but rather listened to. She was a Goddess to you all. 

The two of you made it inside of what looked like an abandoned church, there sat the four Lords. They were expecting you. 

“Children!” She called out. 

Everyone stopped their bickering and paid attention to Mother Miranda, who made you two the center of attention. 

“Welcome your new sibling, the fifth Lord; Y/N!” She said while shoving you to the center of the room. 

All watched your every move, except for Karl. Guilt was very clear on his face.

“Nothing smart to say, hm?” Lady Dimitrescu smirks. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Karl replies. 

“Enough. Welcome home Y/N.” 

You feel your stomach drop, and before you know it you crash onto the ground and everything is dark once more. 

Since when did you become a Lord?

After writing my oneshot Manmade Weapons, I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to start a fic for him !! Im unsure of the updates but I hope I can put out whenever I can!! Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this. And this will be on AO3 if you wanna bookmark it there too :3 -Cherub

[theonetruesonofgod]

RE8 Lords Blunt Rotation

Nobody asked for this but I want nothing more in life than to write it. The basic, obvious, plot, the lords, Ethan, Miranda, and Chris are passing a joint around and having a dumbass conversation. It's probably going to be kind of corny and dumb but that's because I'm stupid. * are used to describe the situation in between dialogues. Naturally, the Duke is their dealer.

Heisenberg: Fuck 12!

Miranda: Fuck you too *fumbling* you little... fuck

Miranda: *Kicks Moreau in the back, knocking him over, while giggling* Heisenberg did it... *coughs* like the meanie he is... punk-ass bitch.

Heisenberg: *Wheezes violently*

Moreau: *Rolling back and forth on the floor trying and failing to get up* That's not very nice of you, Karl.

Chris: *thinking, starts laughing, speaks in a dazed voice* "I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow this down, hee, heeh, heh, heh... with 40mm shells from a hydro-polymer tank."

Alcina: *Alci is also wine-drunk currently* I'll tell you all a secret. *desperately tries to keep the hat from falling off* I don't even like impressionism! It just fits my style!

*A random villager walks into the church. Heisenberg uses his metal powers to kill him, stabbing him with a bunch of metal scraps.*

Alcina: *Alcina looks over to the corpse* Kaaaaarl! There's a dead human in our house!

Heisenberg: Hey how did that get there?

Alcina: You killed him Karl! You didn't even ask me to help! *pouts*

Heisenberg: I did not kill him, that is, that is my least favorite thing to do.

Alcina: Kaaaaaarl! *Due to her height she falls over next to Moreau and desperately tries to move away from him*

*Donna is desperately trying to keep the weed away from Angie. Chris looks at them repeatedly blinking trying to convince himself he's not imagining this.*

Ethan: *Looks over and moves towards Heisenberg* You're lookin', real pretty... big burly metal man. *giggles*

Heisenberg: *His hat falls off* Ethan, you hot little twink... heh, heh, Ethan, do ya... do ya wanna make out with me? Hee, hee, hee

Ethan: *Leans in, Ethan and Karl begin passionately and lovingly making out, Karl begins steering Ethan toward the closet*

Miranda: Eeeeeh *Begins dancing the waltz alone while trying to sing "Dancing Queen" her voice cracking and her forgetting words and verses, as she dances she also begins stumbling repeatedly.*

Moreau: *Finally standing, he walks toward Miranda hoping to join her in whatever she's doing, he reaches her, reaching for her hands*

Miranda: *Kicks Moreau in whatever left of his nuts, Moreau sputters and moans on the ground*

Ethan/Karl: *A noise emanates from the closet, thumping and Ethan's loud moaning. Karl and Ethan's repressed attraction to each other has finally broken free and they're happily fucking in the other room. Chris desperately tries to hide his massive erection in the corner.*

Miranda: *Repeatedly kicking Moreau and giggling, Moreau doesn't even notice by now*

Donna: *Restraining Angie as she tries to jump at a now snoring Alcina with a knife*

[thepatronsaintoffilth]

If you’re still accepting requests/prompts

Crawls away, overstimulated meets crawls after them/drags them back with Heisenberg or something else

🛑✋🏾🛑✋🏾 ADULTS ONLY ✋🏾🛑✋🏾🛑

🛑✋🏾🛑✋🏾 MINORS DNI!!! ✋🏾🛑✋🏾🛑

pairing: gender neutral reader x Karl Heisenberg*

*he may or may not still be a lycan in this one (like he is in YSLT), I didn't really give any indication to either him or reader being anything other than human apart from the, uh ... rut-like desperation, let's say (... you'll see what I mean in a minute ;)

cw: dubcon, overstimulation, resistance play, biting, toe-sucking, ass-eating, face-slapping, mouth-covering, real sex-pest Heisendaddy behavior, the whole nine, I'm so serious, a lot of "no"s being ignored in this one

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

It was official.

You and Lord Heisenberg had just entered the second hour of what started off as - and was supposed to be - a quick, frenzied tryst in the workshop before descending into what you could already tell was going to be a full afternoon of balls-deep fucking.

You'd thought it was almost sweet at first - the sheer gusto alone was breathtaking.

But then he just wouldn't stop.

He just ... kept ... going.

And going.

And fucking going.

You only knew an hour had passed because when you were lying on the ground - the only thing separating your naked body from the workshop floor being Karl's coat - you'd caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall and realized how much time had gone by.

This is ridiculous, you hiss silently, shuddering and panting as your second - third? Fourth? - climax rips through you.

You feel his mouth between your legs for the 3rd time in the last twenty minutes alone and wince as your senses, pushed into overdrive, start to overload.

This is INSANE, you amend. We'll be here all goddamn day!

You try to tell him as much, but it gets you absolutely nowhere.

At first, Karl is merely content to shush you - whispering sweet-nothings and reassuring you that it would be over soon, that he was so close, you're so fucking sexy, you're going to make him cum so fast.

When that revealed itself to be a fucking lie, you begin to actively resist him - shoving at his shoulders, closing your legs against his gloved hands, turning your head or even biting him when he tries to stick his tongue in your mouth.

He was amused at first ("Feeling feisty, huh?"), but then quickly grows frustrated.

Which in turn earns you a slap in the face and that beautiful dick of his crammed down your throat, effectively silencing your protests.

You feel his balls slapping against your chin with each grunting thrust. His hands grip your head, shoving you up and down his shaft until you're too dizzy to resist.

"Don't wanna bite me now, do ya?" he growls, knowing full well you wouldn't dare.

You can't answer - outside of the embarrassing glkglkglkglk sound he was forcing out of you.

"Huh? Was that a yes? Try it ... See what happens."

He releases you abruptly, shoving you back onto the ground. You blink the spots from your eyes and wait for the room to stop spinning as you cough and sputter, making an even bigger mess of your face.

About a second or two later you feel his hands on your shoulders and his knees beside your hips, caging you in.

You slap his hands away, swearing and grumbling under your breath about what a goddamn menace he is. You manage to rotate onto your stomach and hoist yourself upright on your hands and knees.

In hindsight, this action was probably a little naïve.

You thought shoving his hands away and crawling out from under him was the universal signal for "I would like to stop now."

And for a moment? Karl actually seems to take the hint and back off.

... Only for you to feel his hands on your hips and realize that he had interpreted your movement much differently than you intended.

He buries his face between your cheeks and starts tonguing your ass, panting and huffing like he can't get enough.

Which in all likelihood, he can't.

You gasp at the feeling of his facial hair tickling you. Then you crumple, chest-down, to the ground as you feel his tongue probing you, heedless of the fact that you're covered head to toe with sweat and debris.

Your right thigh starts to wobble. The wobble becomes an spastic shake as the sensation becomes so intensely good, its almost unbearable.

The shake creeps outward to the rest of your body as Karl adds his fingers to the mix, muttering under his breath about how amazingly responsive you are as he fucks his middle, index and ring finger into your ass.

Between the effort to stay somewhat upright and not faint outright (even now you can't deny that the man has gifted fingers ...), it's a miracle you have the coordination to try evading him again.

When he takes his fingers out of you, you shake his hands off your hip and crawl quickly in the direction of the door, intending to use your momentum to carry to you feet, out the door, to freedom and maybe a shower because you're an absolute mess.

His grip on your ankle begs to differ.

Your Lord's touch is hard and unforgiving as, with one harsh tug, he pulls you right back where you started.

"Karl - !"

"We're not. Done yet."

He flips you onto your back as you get tangled up in his coat sprawled out on the ground. You drag it with you to cover yourself. He pushes the garment up with an impatient grunt, re-exposing your lower body. He thrusts himself inside you in one brutal, sloppy stroke.

"For fuck's SAKE, Karl - !" you cry out before his gloved palm slaps down over your mouth, stifling the swearing diatribe you were about to spit in his face.

"Shut up. And quit running from me," he rasps, his tone caught somewhere between smoldering irritation and what can only be growing desperation.

You manage to jerk your face out from under his hand long enough to snap, "Then get ON with it!"

"We're almost done, I told you."

"You said that an hour ago!"

Karl freezes. Then he glares down at you and coldly asks, "Are you clock-watching?"

An icy tendril of fear creeps down your back. You shake your head. You might be willing to put your paws on him when he goes too far, but you know better than to wound the man's pride - the one sore point that might legitimately get you killed, even with all you've come to mean to him.

"N-No, I -!" you begin, only for his hand to come down over your mouth again.

"Good. Now quit you whining!" he growls as he starts fucking mercilessly into you again with renewed vigor. "We're almost there."

He lets go your mouth and gathers you closer to him, the increased pressure and friction driving you that much closer to insanity. You feel another orgasm building, and you can tell this one's going to be messy.

"K-Karl, baby ... Please ... Give me a -"

"Shh, shhhhhhh," he whispers. "Almost there."

"Karl ..."

"Almost there. Almost ... Almost there"

Roughly half an hour later, the two of you finally get "there".

After several detours, of course.

Your Lord felt compelled to fuck your mouth again.

Then he spanked and berated you for protesting and trying to ward him off.

Then he sucked your toes greedily (a concerning first, since he'd never shown any interest in your feet up to this point) before finally, at long, long last, cumming inside you before collapsing on top of you.

"See? That didn't take so long, did it?"

You manage to slap him twice over his head before he even processes through the haze of post-orgasm bliss that you're striking him.

He look at you blankly for a moment, the depths of his eyes cold and almost transparently remote as he floats back down to Earth. You're reeling back for a third time when he catches you hand without even looking.

"Oh, I see ... You haven't had enough yet."

"Get OFF me, you oaf!"

"You should have told me so, buttercup. I would have held off a little longer."

"I swear I'll claw your eyes out if you don't leave me ALONE!"

He rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, that's right, talk dirty to me. That's the way to get me off your ass."

"FUCK YOU."

He snorts.

"You will, if you'd just hold still. So impatient ... It's like you're trying to get me hard again."

"Karl - !"

Whatever you were trying to say is lost in his mouth as he kisses you till you quiet down.

And he keeps going.

- Saint

P.S. - My ask box is still open for requests! This was so much fun, and I can't wait to get more. Also, shoutout to the anon who sent me this. I love a good yanked-back-after-crawling-away kinda vibe 😘😘😘

[wedontdeservethestars]

redamancy with karl heisenberg please?

This turned out way cuter than I meant it to. Happy accident I guess?

CW for mentions of sexual themes

((Send me a vocab word and a resident evil character and I’ll write a little drabble!!))

KARL HEISENBERG x REDAMANCY: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full

“I think I love you.”

It was the first time you had said it. It just slipped out, taking both you and Karl off guard. It wasn’t that you didn’t mean it. Far from it, actually. It had been months since your first time together, and even longer since your first heated kiss. You spent nearly all your time together nowadays, and not just because you were assisting him in the factory. It was unspoken between you, but it was also obvious that there was something beyond the quickies on the worktable or the nights spent in his quarters. 

You expected Karl to say something snarky, make fun of you for the dumb comment. “I would hope you would, by now,” or a sarcastic, “No shit! Really, now?” 

But he didn’t say anything.

In fact, he had completely frozen up. Sensing that you crossed a line, you felt your mouth go dry and tried to pedal back. 

“Sorry. Was that too much?” 

“No,” came his sharp reply, and he was turning to face you, leaving his work completely abandoned on the table. There was something in his cadence you hadn’t noticed before. Nerves? Could Karl even get nerves? “Not at all.”

“Okay, well…good.” A smile crossed your lips, but you were still a little put off by his demeanor. Karl looked like he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth. He coughed into a gloved fist. He turned around back to the forge. 

You weren’t disappointed, per say, but it definitely wasn’t the response you wanted. But you tried to set your feelings aside, at least for the moment. He was busy. You shouldn’t have dropped that on him while he was so focused on his work, and besides, maybe it was too early, anyways. Maybe he just wanted to keep your relationship sexual. That was…fine. You could live with that, even if it made your throat choke up, at least he would still be with you, just not in the way that–

Karl’s lips were on yours. You didn’t know how you entirely missed him coming back over to you, but suddenly he was here, and the kiss was delightful, slightly salty from the heat of the forgery but not at all unpleasant, and most importantly it felt different. There was less intensity than you were used to, less recklessness and urgency. Like he was afraid of hurting you, but needed you to know that he was there. 

When he pulled away, the tables had turned. Now you were speechless. 

“Do you mean it?” he asked. You smiled in spite of his seriousness. He had removed his goggles on the way over, and you had to stop yourself from chuckling at the red rim marks they’d left encircling his eyes. 

“Mean what?” 

“Do you really love me?” The way he said love said it all. He wasn’t denying you earlier. He was just terrified.

“Of course,” you said decisively. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re sure?”

You frowned, but didn’t falter. “Yes.”

Karl thought for a moment. Then, he took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. For whatever reason, your skin cells there were apparently very interesting at the moment. He kept his gaze focused on your hand as he spoke.

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to tell you that?” 

You shook your head. “You have?”

“Yes!” His face was red, and you didn’t think it was just because of the sauna-like conditions in the room. “I–I’m mad, actually, that it was that easy for you. I’ve been trying to craft the perfect way to tell you for weeks. I even went to Donna to ask for help on a poem. Didn’t work, of course, she was completely incompetent, and…”

He felt your gaze harshen, and immediately mumbled an apology. You had made him promise to try to get along with the other Lords, or at least act civilly with them, if not to avoid headaches at the meetings with Miranda. After a huff of breath, he recalibrated.

“I always thought I was smart. And you make me feel so, so stupid. Because I can’t figure you out, and I can’t figure us out, and I can’t believe that you just…said it. And it worked.”

“Was I supposed to make it more elaborate?” you teased softly, standing up from the stool you were seated in. 

“No! I mean, I don’t think you were supposed to…” Karl’s mouth twitched. “Look, I really don’t know much about this ‘love’ stuff. I’ve never…I mean, I’ve always been alone. This is all really weird for me. But…it’s a good weird. And I’d like to keep going with you. I was just so afraid that if I didn’t say it right, if it wasn’t perfect, you wouldn’t love me the way I love you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, melting into a warm smile. “Karl…”

“I know, I’m rambling,” he muttered, still trying to look anywhere but into your eyes. 

“I like it when you ramble,” you smiled back. “I love it, actually. And I love everything about you, the same way you love everything about me. Right?”

“Right.”

“So…there’s no confusion.”

“I suppose not.”

“Good.” 

You both stood there for a moment, basking in the feeling of certainty, and then you shared another kiss. Karl still took the time to feel up your butt like he usually did, but somehow this time it seemed more intimate. Not just flat-out horny. It was a nice change of pace. 

“Can we have a nice dinner tonight?” you murmured. “One where you don’t, like, bend me over the table when we’re done eating? Or before eating? Or…during eating?”

Karl laughed, and it was contagious. It hit you how much you really did love everything about him–every little scratch and scar on his skin, the way he talked, hell, even the sound of his breaths. It was all so him. And therefore, it was perfect. From the way that Karl was looking at you, you guessed he was having some pretty similar thoughts about you. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

[macabremuscle]

Slashers (& Friends) Taking Care of Sick S/O

Yeah guess who's ill. It's me... I'm a big baby when I get sick and I get really emotional and just wanna be cuddled so this is comfort for me.

Warnings: Mentions of being sick, otherwise none just fluff. Besides slashers who are their own warnings

Jesse Cromeans:

Doctor. Now. He wastes no time in getting his private physician to come examine you. Doesn't matter what time of the day or night it is

If it's something mild like a cold or flu he'll take over caring for you. Sure he could have some gourmet chicken noodle soup brought up to your room but no. He's doing it himself

If he can, he's postponing all work until you're better. He won't let you out of his sight. He's waiting until you wake up from your nap to offer you some water. He's not scared of getting sick either so if you want him to cuddle you in bed, he's doing it. Anything for you

Corey Cunningham:

Poor thing is worried sick (lol). He'll ask you multiple times if you want to see a doctor and if you do he'll take you pronto. If not he'll worry but you just have to remind him it's just a cold and you're not gonna die

He knows he's gonna get in trouble for it but he's calling in sick to work until you're better. His mom is gonna be shrieking about him spending so much time away from home but he doesn't care. He's your bedside nurse. He'll spoon-feed you even if you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself

You don't even have to ask. He's burrowed under the mountain of blankets with you. Here, have the remote. You can watch anything you want. He'll just be here in case you need him. Please need him. Taking Care of you makes him so happy even if he hates to see you feeling miserable

Erik Destler:

Is kind of oblivious at first. Won't really pick up any coughing or sniffling to start with. Once you start visibly looking ill and your symptoms worsen, then he gets nervous. He doesn't get sick too often himself so he doesn't know what to do

Will offer to find a doctor for you if it's serious, otherwise he'll need your guidance on what to do. He's got the basics down of fetching you a glass of water and food but that's kind of it. But just ask, once you ask for something he's more than happy to get it

Sadly he's got things to do throughout the day and frankly, he doesn't want to catch whatever you have. Can't make music if you're busy puking. So he won't be glued to your side. But he's attentive in nursing you back to health and if you plead and hit him with the puppy eyes, hell snuggle you at bedtime

Asa Emory:

Not at all concerned. At least not outwardly if he is at all. Takes you to the doctor if you need it. Otherwise that's about the extent of it. Or so you'd think

Surprisingly shows a bit of a heart during your illness. He's not going to be doting by any means, but he's on point with your care. Meds are offered on the clock. Hearty meals and your glass never gets below half full. He'll ask about your symptoms to gage your improvement

Sadly no, no cuddles for you. He's a professor and he can't really afford to get sick and miss work. You can't be sure- maybe it was just the fever- but you could have sworn you felt soft lips on your forehead before you fell asleep

Brahms Heelshire:

Panic time. He doesn't know what to do. He's baby. People take care of him when he's sick not the other way around

You gotta help him if you want any assistance. He's more than willing to do it, much to your surprise, but he's absolutely clueless if you don't specify what you need

Will absolutely stay in bed and cuddle you the whole time. He'll do what you need him to do like bring food but he's not doing house chores. He ends up sick from being in such close proximity to you for so long so now you both feel like shit

Karl Heisenberg:

Tries to hide his concern. Fails miserably. He'll say things like "oh you're fine. Just take some herbal tea you'll be ok tomorrow." Then when you either get angry at his insensitivity or try to power through it and it's painfully obvious how sick you are, he changes his tune

He won't take the whole day to dote on you but he does what he can. Actually pops by fairly frequently to check up on you. He'll surprise you by bringing you some treats, if you can stomach it. He'll also make a trip to the Duke for medicine

You'll wake up later on in the day to him having already crawled into bed with you, his head laying on your chest or shoulder. He does care about you but he's just weird about showing it. Please get better he misses you hanging out with him during his experiments

Thomas Hewitt:

The whole Hewitt house is in a tizzy because of him. He's frantically trying to explain to his momma what's wrong. And if you're anything beyond some allergy sneezes, your ass is staying in bed. Tommy will absolutely throw down if Hoyt tries to bother you about doing chores

He's doing double duty now because you're sick. And he's more than happy to cover for you! But it does mean he's more busy so he can't take care of you like he'd prefer to. He'll sneak off every 30 minutes to come check on you and see if you need anything

You can be sure however that once the days over he's all but diving headfirst into bed to snuggle up with you. He's not at all worried about germs. He's giving you all the hugs and kisses

Pyramid Head:

Clueless. So clueless. What's a germ? Why do you look like you're about to pass out? He doesn't know how humans work at all. He won't know what's wrong with you until you tell him and even then, he's not going to fully understand

He does understand, however, that you're weak and in need of care and that's going to make him super protective of you. Other monsters would swoop in to grab you in a second if he wasn't careful. He won't let anything get near you and he's more than happy to cradle you to his chest and carry you around if he must

Won't know how to help you much beyond protection. You'll have to ask him for food and water and... Well.. Silent Hill is lacking in the good food department. It's probably what made you sick in the first place. He'll scrounge around trying to find whatever he can for you tho

Michael Myers:

This bitch. He knows you're sick and he doesn't really care too much. Not unless it's serious. Then he's going to carry you to the ER and dump you right outside the doors so you'll get some medical care but otherwise? He's useless

He'll watch you and when he finally sees just how under the weather you are, that small almost hidden human side of him will try to help. Soup from a can that's been microwaved to lukewarm is about all he can manage

He's very observant so he'll see all your symptoms. But he'll just grab literally all the bottles of medicine and dump them on your lap for you to pick out the ones you need. He'll be surprisingly willing to let you cuddle him while you're sick tho. Gross sick things don't faze him in the slightest

Bo Sinclair:

Germaphobe. The instant you have a nasty cough, sneeze one too many times, or tell him you're sick, he's taking a good two paces away from you. You can keep your nasty germs away from him thank you

On the bright side, you actually get some peace and quiet so you're able to rest. He feels a little guilty about being mean so he will check up on you everyone once in a while, ask if you need anything. Don't be surprised if he makes one of his brothers take it to you tho

He'll try to refuse to to start with but if he sees that's upsetting you he eventually gets over himself and holds you tight. Will absolutely bitch and moan if you get him sick

Lester Sinclair:

I think this man's a walking petri dish so you probably got it from him. He'll be pretty level headed about it really. If not slightly upset cuz he's worried about you not feeling well but he won't lose his head unless it's serious

You're getting the finest dishes he can muster up. Are they good for a sour stomach? Probably not. But it's comfort food and he's worked so hard on it. He'll bring you all your favorite snacks

He'll take you into town to see a doctor if he has to. Bo won't like it but he's willing to face Bo's wrath for you. Or he'll go get medicine and bring it back. He's more than happy to pamper you throughout everything. Constantly holding you and pecking your face with kisses and saying "hope you feel better soon darlin"

Vincent Sinclair:

Doctor Vincent is in the house. Instantly asks you to list all your symptoms and gets to work trying to make you well again. Which sounds sweet and it is but he will force you to drink the nasty cough syrup no matter how much you protest

Keeps you in the basement with him so he can keep an eye on you and be within earshot if you call for him. He won't smother you but the instant you groan out his name he's there, ready to help

Will fix up dishes specifically for you and not share with his brothers. Bo's pissed cuz he wanted some of that delicious smelling gumbo. Vincent will happily put down anything he's working on to come sit or lay beside you. Whatever you need, he's got it covered

Jason Voorhees:

Another one who panics. Is it serious? What is he supposed to do? He only has limited supplies and he's not really in a position to get you to a medical professional. Are you going to die?? Please calm him down before he combusts

Every other second he's standing beside you, wanting you to tell him what you need. He'll make anything you want to eat. Might not be the best but... It's edible so there's that. Bless his heart. He'll even find an old teddy bear to tuck under your arm so you don't get too lonely while he's away in the kitchen

Not that it matters because he's instantly right back and not leaving your side. You want to cuddle? Absolutely he's right on it. Take a nap, he'll be right here when you wake up

Harry Warden: 

Surprisingly sane as long as it's mild. He'll get worried if you need to go to the doctor because he can't be there with you so he'd really rather avoid that if possible. But otherwise he's calm about it

He'll have you lay down and get you anything you need. He makes sure you're alright and ready for nap before he leaves again. He doesn't see much need to stick around and hover over you when you're just snoozing so he'll be back later to check up on you

Beauty of the gas mask is he doesn't have to worry about germs. But honestly he'd be unconcerned about it anyway. He asks how you're feeling and when you answer him he's kissing your forehead. He says it's to check your temperature but the soft touch of his hands on your cheek reveal he's caring about you

Yautja:

Totally unbothered. Any illness you have is probably non-transferable to him anyway. And on top of that, his people's medicine is so advanced even a serious illness is nothing to worry about. He'll offer to have you seen by a physician but if you refuse and simply want to fight it off naturally he respects it

He doesn't really know what sick humans need so please tell him. He'll make a special trip all the way back to earth to get your favorite snack if that's what you want

He'll let you sleep when you want it but he's happy to entertain you by your bedside. He loves reading to you in his native tongue. You don't understand it of course but you like the sounds of all the clicks and find it soothing. In fact if you tell him about how earth cat purring has healing properties, he's scooping you up and nesting in the bed with you, purring up a storm. You don't know if it actually helps fight your illness but you both enjoy it regardless

[ur-local-coping-mechanic]

Re: my headcanon for Karl's scars:

So obviously all of the soldats have the same incision lines because it's just is easier to copy and paste a generic sculpt, right?

But the lycans have quite a few variations, and thinking about it with in-world logic, Karl made machines to mass produce these soldats. They are all the same cookie cutter products.

He spent time messing around trying to find the right combination of modifications, incisions, injections, alterations and corpse deterioration.

But where would he start? What's his knowledge of medical incisions? What if it's his own? Like the scars Miranda gave him and the other ones he got over the decades.

So I sketched every incision on the soldats and based his body scars off that. Even the ones we can see on him matched pretty closely to the positions of the the ones on his soldats.

And then I was playing RE6 and discovered another villain who rips his body apart to turn himself into a giant metal flesh thing: Simmons. But before that, he has THIS sexy fucking form (Leon sits on him and I'm jealous)

So it was then even more painfully apparent that we were robbed of Heisenberg having an in between normal and mutated version.

So I tried to fix that. Where his skin had scars is where it would split and disintegrate to adapt to his chosen form.

I MEAN IT WOULD MAKE SENSE canonically. The cadou gives them all regeneration abilities. In concept art he's shown getting arrows to the face and he's definitely been stabbed and slashed by Lady D more than a couple times. All of this he could heal with time and energy.

So apologies for the disquisition/dissertation but I have so many thoughts about this game and so many stories I want to tell cause I know Capcom won't.

Those of which are the Lords' backstories, daily lives, interactions, and simply just the way they breathe and function. And like he doesn't cough from the cigars ever even though he's smoking them constantly, AND HIS BREATHING IN MERCENARIES IS SO DEEP AND SLOW....

Don't even get me started on his eyebrow scar.

Okay bye

[labrxnth]

REverse Headcannons- Sick Partner (Karl Heisenberg)

How Chris, Leon, Jill, Claire, Wesker, Ethan, Carlos and Heisenberg react to (y/n) being home sick. (Gender Neutral Reader)

(CW: Throwing up)

Karl Heisenberg (Post Cadou):

Karl woke up to the sound of you coughing and throwing up in the bathroom. He sighed and sat up.

"Darling, you okay?" He called.

You responded by making more gagging noises. Karl got up and made his way to the bathroom, willing the hinges to open the door. He saw you, almost crumpled, over the toilet. Your face was void of any color and you had a thin layer of sweat.

"Morning, babe," You managed to say, holding back another wave of nausea.

Karl joined you on the floor, keeping an eye on you.

"You're definitely not going to work today," He said.

"I already called out," You replied, squeezing your eyes shut so the room would stop moving.

"Need any water or anything?" Karl asked.

"Yeah, water would be great...." You said.

He squeezed your shoulder, and got up to get you a glass of water. He could hear you throwing up more from the kitchen.

"What did you eat last night?" He called.

"Just pizza," You said back. Karl walked through the door, handing you the glass. You drank it like someone had just shown you water for the first time. He sat back down with you on the floor, spinning a piece of metal in one hand like he was fidgeting with it. His other hand was lightly rubbing your back.

"Let me know if you need anything else," He said soothingly.

"Thanks, babe," You said. Your stomach was starting to settle and you thanked anything and everything that could.

Heisenberg watched the color return to your face. "Let's go back to bed," He said, standing up. He held his hand out to you.

You took it and the two of you walked back to the bed, him supporting your weight.

The rest of the day was spent with you two in bed, Heisenberg making metal objects bring you two food and whatever you needed. You eventually fell asleep watching the tv and cuddling him.

Heisenberg didn't get sick..... honestly idk if he even can lmao.

[leorawright]

Hello. How are you? May I request four lords dating reader, whose weapon is strings, that are sharp as blade? P.S. Have a good day?

Oooo yeah a Resident Evil request!

Lords with s/o who fights with razor strings

Alcina Dimitrescu

You certainly have a much different way of fighting than her

But both of you can slice your enemies into ribbons with barely a second though

Alcina does admire your accuracy with your weapons as they are a bit wild

Donna Beneviento

Donna loves to knit and sew so you using razor strings to fight certainly intrigues her

She admire your power and agility when using your weapons

She's also though about using your string to sew basically a death sweater (can you blame her though?)

Salvatore Moreau

When you first used your strings he was in awe

They looked so shiny and shimmery and yet so dangerous

Moreau isn't great at fighting especially with his unpredictable powers so he'll probably end up running to you for protection

He does consider you the most powerful person be knows (*cough*and the best looking*cough*)

Karl Heisenberg

He's certainly interested in your weapons

Karl is a mechanic so seeing you use these strings has him tempted to incorporate something like them into his machines

Karl also finds it amusing, seeing you slide intruders to pieces before they realize you're there

[thestayathomedragon]

😈 and/or 🛒

Ask Meme

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Oh sure. I do playfully mean things to my readers all the time. Because that's just who I am as a person. :3

The most recent time I did something playfully mean was in that last chapter of .scar.crossed.lovers. there is a particular scene in that chapter that is noticeably longer than the others and it's focused on basically the opposite of what all the other scenes are focused on. It definitely makes things look like they are going in one direction only to abruptly not go in that direction. I considered putting it closer to the end of the fic but I figured it would have a bigger impact where it ended up instead. :3

Its all out of love though I promise.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I have to admit that I am definitely working through some of my own stuff through Leon and Luis. Right now it you might have noticed there is a lot of having to deal with grief and loss (though not necessarily well).

There are a lot of quiet moments between them which I find can be a lot more intimate than the smutty bits (not that I don't love the smutty bits). And you might have also noticed themes of devotion or co-dependency depending on how you look at it. There can be a very fine line I think.

I also like writing about morally gray characters and themes. Because sometimes "good" people make bad choices and do bad things but those same people can do good. They can even think they're doing good things because they only see it from one perspective but later look at it from another perspective and realize they've done something terrible. *cough*Luis*cough*

Does this make them a bad person? Are they a bad person because of what they did? Why they did it? Because they didn't consider all perspectives before they did it?

I like the idea of redemption and the idea that it doesn't always have to mean death. I am enjoying exploring my ideas of who can be redeemed and how. Spoiler alert, I think anyone can be.

And I think both Luis and Leon fit the description. Especially the Leon in most of my AUs. Leon is definitely making some questionable choices and taking some interesting risks all for Luis. And well we all know about Luis. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Honestly, I'm also exploring these ideas in Social Engineering as well. Karl Heisenberg and Luis Serra have quite a few things in common in my opinion. And I think that Ezra has quite a lot of things in common with Leon. I don't want to spoil anything there though. Which is probably why I immediately fell for both of those idiots.

And apparently I also like deals with devils it seems. Two out of my three WIPs have that going on in them. So there ya go.

[oathofpromises]

Starter for @blitzkriegers

Jill glanced down at her phone, there hadn't been any word from Chris or the rest of wolf Squad. She was beginning to believe they had to go silent due to being spotted by one of the lords. None of them seemed all that dangerous at a first glance, but each one possessed a particular ability, which is most likely the way Miranda was using them as part of her grander scheme for baby Rose. The brunette raised her binoculars up, as she glanced around the area. There wasn't a lot on this side of the river aside from the factory, which was Heisenberg's base of operations. If any of the lords were a threat, it would be him. The man was an enigma, not much was known about him like the others lords, but maybe that was the way he wanted to keep it.

A sigh escaped the agent's lips as she jumped down from her viewpoint, pulling out her gun. It looked like Ethan was falling into one lord laps right after another. She knew why he was here, to save his daughter, but the one thing that lingered on Jill's mind was the fact Chris hadn't been honest from the start. It just wasn't like him to keep things like this a secret, especially from someone he considered a friend but, knowing him as long as she had, it was most likely his way of keeping Ethan safe. Too many had died since this all started, and the last thing they wanted was for more innocent people to get dragged into it. 

Fog started to surrounded Jill, as she made her way through the ceremony site. She had been through here enough times, trying to keep an eye on Heisenberg. It seemed like the only path that would give anyone else access to his factory. It seemed like Karl didn't want anyone using his personal access ways into his base of operations. Not even Miranda herself, which lead Jill to believe that maybe he wasn't close to the woman at all. It was merely a guess at the moment, but everything he did contradicted what the other lords had done. It wouldn't be easy to sneak into it, nor did she think Heisenberg would simply let her into it unless he specifically wanted her there. Which left only one other option, since she didn't possess a key. 

"Good thing I know how to swim or this would be quite difficult.." sighed the brunette, as she concluded the only way would be to essential go under the factory via the reservoir waters. This would've been impossible if Moreau was still around, but Ethan managed to come out of that fight particularly unharmed. Diving into the waters, she allowed the current to carry her. If her theory was right, it would land her right inside the factory somewhere. If she wasn't then she would need to think of another way to gain access to the building. 

Coughing, Jill dragged herself out of the water, as she turned on her flashlight. Glancing around, it looked like she was underground, perhaps in back of the factory. If Karl had any security, he was probably already aware that she was here. Which would be classic Jill Valentine luck. The area looked very similar to the older church the lords and Miranda had dragged Ethan to, she had only seen photos of it in various reports. There were so many unknowns here but, Chris had tasked her to keep an eye on Karl, even if she knew he was also doing the same. Ever since her return, things have been a lot harder to get passed. There were moments the woman would have vivid flashes of her time controlled by Wesker. How she was aware of everything, but unable to do a single thing to stop it. 

Eventually, Jill found herself on one of the upper floors glancing down into the abyss she could swear the factory itself was so much bigger than it appeared on the outside. Reloading her gun, the agent glanced around the corner, no sign of anyone around for the moment. Which was either a blessing or a curse. If her intel so far was right, Karl planned to betray Miranda, why else would he be creating what seemed like an army of soldiers. They would have no need of those if Miranda plan revolved around baby Rose. The woman froze as she caught sight of a shadow moving close by, at first she figured it might be one of Karl's many experiments, but a closer look it was Heisenberg. Jill reached down and turned off her radio, the last thing she wanted was for her team to accidentally blow her cover, but maybe Karl had already long seen her arrival and this was her playing right into a trap. 

It seemed like the man was occupied by something else, unaware of her nearby presence, at least for the moment. Quietly, she started to follow him through the factory, they seemed to be in what looked like a workshop. It didn't escape Jill eyes the amount of creatures dangling over her head, as they moved around the area. The last thing she wanted was to alert the whole place, it would be a living hell to fight these things.

[damadisangue]

Alcina's bust is stuck in an agony, screaming position. She is frozen in an expression of terror and pain, at her side Moreau's hundred eyes see beyond – where he too had been.

In the silence of a thousand dead with no possibility of salvation.

Tap tap. Tap tap.

Wesker joins him, his hands on his disturbing cane - black, smooth. Karl is silent, pressing an unlit cigar to his lips. "She pulled it out while he was still screaming." he begins, pointing with the snake's head to a container near Angie - mute, no longer in life. "The Cadou." he adds, and his voice is unnatural - an empty sensation that tightens your skin, your heart. Heisenberg gives him an oblique, careful look. And he had wondered many times what it was about this man that made people rush to do his bidding, slipping on small, trembling feet. He had wondered why - if he had ever been able to imbue his voice with a different, alive tone. Wesker keeps his gaze straight ahead, in his eyes the same emptiness of reptiles - an absence that makes him want to pick him up and shake him and maybe step on his foot to see if he's flesh and he can bleed and…

"He screamed, Karl: for months."

"An interesting species." he tells him, inscrutable. Heisenberg clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, baring his teeth. "A pity I missed the Duke's mutation: Alex said it was awful." Wesker shifts his weight from foot to foot - his left leg is a mass of scars and ill-welded bones, Karl - quiet. "I wish I'd heard him squeal like the pig he was." he continues, turning the lighter between his fingers. Wesker turns, looking at him. Karl broadens a smile he doesn't want to laugh at, pushing the cigar aside. "What is it? Did you think I liked that lump of lard?" "No." And he's frustrating, Alex's brother; he speaks in monosyllables and shit, he didn't think he would ever think that, but at least Alcina gave him some satisfaction. "I'm not here for him." "I know." Karl releases an exasperated sigh, lighting his cigar and throwing out a generous puff of smoke. "Shit, you're as irritating as an anal rash."

Ha ha.

Heisenberg whirls around, taken aback by the rusty, chipped-at-the-corners sound. Shit, he is crazy, the first thought that crosses his mind.  Is there anything I can use in this vault hole to hit him?, the second. "The doll." instead Wesker catches him off guard, tilting his face towards his - and he curls his upper lip that fucking nut, closing his mouth.

Flehmen's reflex.

"Alex told me she was the only one you tolerated." "I didn't mean to break all her bones if that's what you mean." Wesker advances, Karl doesn't back down - if the asshole wants to burn himself on the tip of his cigar, well, go ahead. "You do not like me." "Jackpots." retorts Karl, irritated. Wesker cocks his head to his shoulder in a curious, alert movement. "And yet you don't consider me a threat." "No." he replies, throwing the ashes on the ground. "You find me unpleasant." Wesker points out, pursing his lips in a grimace. Heisenberg looks him up and down, sticking his thumb in the loop of his pants. "Don't get me wrong, big guy: you're probably handsome by modern society standards. I mean, you look like that, what's-his-name… ah, yeah, that blond psycho TV Homelander, but what about me?" he says, pointing and shaking his head. "To me you're just some jerk with delusions of grandeur who got his ass banged at the bottom of a volcano by fucking Chris Redfield." Wesker towers over him and for a moment - an instant - anger explodes in the form of an electric current that runs through him from side to side, squeezing his insides, his testicles. Karl coughs, tightening his grip on his cigar – craving his hammer like never before. "A common destiny, it seems." then hisses Wesker, leaning forward - more snake than man. "Now that the ball is in the centre, are you happy?" "Never." he growls, and there it is the intense man Alex was talking about - that earthquake that's just devastation and madness. "Then you will fail, again." enshrines Karl, lapidary. Wesker seems to freeze at those words and Heisenberg wonders if he could fall apart like the lycans or Miranda herself. "Did you eat your tongue?" he presses, but Wesker ignores him, straightening up and looking at him as if he were new - different. "Did you have a stroke?" he persists, partly worried, partly pleased with himself.

"You will fail." "No." "Yes and I won't be able to save you."

Wesker spreads his shoulders, stiffens his back - again placing both hands on the pommel of his cane. "She did it for you." he says, and it's almost an inaudible murmur. "This." he underlines him, aiming the bottom of the cane on the Duke's Cadou. "He tortured him for hours, keeping him alive with continuous drips." he says, engrossed - far away. "And I liked it." he then giggles, giving him more and more the impression of a man close to nervous breakdown. "I enjoyed it, because Alex, oh, she's so good at hurting and she's been doing it for so long that she's an expert at it now." She never did it to me, Karl would like to rebut, but he stays silent because now there is something broken in Wesker - a crack through which he can see an abyss of unspeakable horrors and feelings. Heisenberg stretches the muscles of his thighs, calls to him what he finds - nothing, shit. "But you already knew that, uhm?" he goes on, nodding to himself. Wesker keeps shaking his head, he seems to want to chase away a harassing - obsessive thought. Karl jerks his arms up when he sees him move, preparing for an attack - a blow, a scream, something…

Tap tap. Tap tap.

Wesker turns away from him, stopping only when he's already one foot over the edge of the vault's armored door. "You are free, Karl Siard Heisenberg." he mutters, using his full name.

Not her. Not me. 

"Enjoy the world." he takes his leave, his footsteps ringing for minutes in the ears - between his ribs. On the vault shelf Angie seems to jump and cry. 

[lovelywingsart]

'Bite', 'Hammer', 'Drink' for the fanfiction WIP ask game?

I had to dig through over 70+ WIPs to find these my dude- And one of them is from a smut story. Actually all 3 would be smut, but I'll keep those other ones to myself for now. So fair warning on that.\! I do have other ideas I haven't gotten a chance to write down that would definitely include these, but for now, this is what I have so far!

And yes, I'll do all three!

And no, I don't know when these will be finished.

Have fun!

*Under cut because LONG*

Word: Hammer

Takes place about a year or so after the Miranda fight in the Survival AU-

"You would think they would freeze up there near the water..." she commented, looking up as Heisenberg walked by and bumped her shoulder, nearly tossing the hammer to the side.

"Did we HAVE to leave him with her?" He grumbled, instantly making his way to the door that lead to the workshop. She followed.

"Hey, you said yourself Donna wasn't that bad..." she chuckled, returning the shoulder bump. He rolled his eyes, casually holding the door for her to follow through.

"It's not Donna, it's those... goddamn DOLLS..." he said. "Creepy pieces of... What if he has nightmares??"

Emelia rolled her eye.

"Karl, do you recall what he assisted with only a year ago? I promise you dolls aren't worse than those bloody Soldats." She replied, turning to face him once they entered the workshop and the door was closed. She nearly laughed at the disbelieving expression on his face. "He will be fine, Heisenberg. She offered, and he was excited to see 'Aunt Donna'. You should be happy we're alone for the first time in years."

Word: Drink

A random placement in the normal timeline, for a smut story that MIGHT break a few people for a very specific reason other than them being drunk off their asses... Twitter knows. uwu -

He only paused for a moment, suddenly leaning over to grab one of the bottles. She watched his muscles trembled slightly as he stared at the bottle for a moment, his other hand mindlessly rubbing her thigh. She couldn't help but squirm in a drunken, aroused haze, only to reach out for the bottle, herself. He hummed slightly before handing it to her, leaning down and kissing along her chest as she propped herself up with one wavering elbow. He let out a low chuckle as she drank from the bottle itself, taking a few gulps before falling back once more with a cough.

Despite the lightheadedness, she could still feel the warmth of the whiskey flood through her chest, the feeling bringing more redness to her cheeks as Heisenberg took the bottle from her. He started to drink, downing the rest of the dark liquid quickly before slumping forward slightly, letting the bottle fall to the floor with a clatter as it was pushed over the edge.

Neither reacted to the sound, instead focusing on each other with wavering vision as he leaned forward fully into her arms that had since reached for him. His lips met hers instantly, the residual taste of the alcohol still fresh between the both of them.

Word: Bite

Another Survival AU one, which... Well, you'll see!~

"Ethan told me what you all did." He started, nodding back to the window where she could see the man glance at her as he was patched up. "I only need to know if you're just as fucking insane as she was, or if you're trustworthy enough to stay here."

"You mean if we're 'docile' enough for you to let us live." She corrected with a frown. She watched the corner of his mouth twitch, lifting her chin again. "If we weren't 'docile', I assure you we would have attacked your little 'party' here by now... I assume you're aware of our... 'abilities'. Especially Heisenberg."

"I'm well aware."

"Then you know he could crush that loud rubbish heap with the jerk of an arm." She was proud as she spoke, watching his face change just slightly as he glanced at Adalwulf.

"And him?"

She froze. Her taw tightened as the boy hid behind her more, but she managed to calm herself, forcing herself to bite her own tongue as to not put them in any more danger than they were already in just talking to him.

"He shares his fathers powers, if not more." She replied quietly. "He's as proficient with them as Karl, and they're far more potent. He was taught well."