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whore4gwen · 9 months ago

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Re8 Women dating HCs

Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, & Mother Miranda

WLW

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Tags: Light talks of manipulation, narcissism, and sadism, mental health issues, fluff, angst if you squint hard enough, possessiveness, slightly unhinged behavior, MY personal head cannons, very slight suggestiveness, Mirandas fucking God complex, isolation, religious elements, cuddling, poor perception of love, & tax evasion.

A/N: Im working on sm things rn it’s not even funny. Despite that, I desperately wanted to post something, so here’s some of my hc. No these are not all my hcs, these are just some of the REALISTIC ones I have. These are based on my own personal perception of these fictional characters. You are welcome to disagree with anything I write, but you’re not welcome to harass me about it. Please keep negativity to yourselfs. Anyways, please enjoy!

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Alcina:

-It’s not that Lady Dimitrescu is incapable of loving another, I just think it’s the way she would love.

-Carnal, possessive, dangerous, a little crazed even. Nothing about the lady’s love is sensual or soft. She’s powerful, domineering, and boy does she relish in it. Of course she’s aware of all the things she could do, all the things you’d let her do. So willing, so compliant, so easy to control.

-Alcina is a narcissist through and through. You will bend to her will, to her every need. You’re hers, after all. (We still love you thou)

-I feel like her love is very incessant, very smothering for lack of better words. She’s not exactly clingy, but she needs you around, she needs to feel your presence.

-Always, and I mean always watching you. Nothing you do will go past her. She needs to know exactly where you are and what you’re doing at all times.

-A bit emotionally manipulative. Of course she doesn’t see it that way, she just wants everything to go her way. What’s so wrong with that?

-I think for the most part she’s a little self aware about her flaws and what not, but I wouldn’t say this with 100% certainty. A big part of her doesn’t really see a problem with the way she is. It’s absolutely normal.

-But to be fair, it’s not like anyone would call her out.. so🤷🏻‍♀️

-Pet names pet names pet names. Alcina absolutely adores them. She only really uses your names unless she’s really pissed. In that case, run.

Donna:

-Shy. So incredibly so that you don’t hear her voice till weeks after working for her. And the way your jaw fell to the ground when you heard it had Angie belly laughing on the ground. If it wasn’t for her, you thought maybe you were hearing things.

-Forgets to eat often. She gets so preoccupied with her dolls, she doesn’t always take the best care of herself. So make sure you remind her to eat:(

-It’ll take AGES to get Donna there, but when you do, she is nothing short of the wait. Very passionate, and a little unhinged.

-Like Alcina, she’s a bit possessive.

-She finally found someone she was comfortable with showing her scare, you’re not going anywhere. You belong to her and that’s final. You’re literally stuck, so get comfortable.

-Values your opinion over everything. Her cooking, her sewing skills, her Garden. Donna swoons at praise. A light pink dusting her cheeks any time you compliment her, no matter how minor.

-Poor Donna has been alone for quite some time now. Touch starved as well as touch repulsed. Have fun with that :)

- Canonically, Donna has really bad mental health issues, which causes her to lash out and make rash decisions. She’s not abusive by any means, just a lot to handle.

-She gets into her own head a lot. Constantly convincing herself none of this is real. That one day she’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.

-I know she has manic episodes. Cannot convince me otherwise. Before you, they were almost unmanageable. Your first experience dealing with Donna during one terrified you. You were so worried about Donna, you had no idea what was happening.

-You tried desperately to comfort her. Unfortunately the voices were stronger than your weak attempts.

-After a while, she finally calmed down and explained that catastrophe as best as she could without scaring you off.

-At first Donna didn’t really understand the purpose of cuddling. It’s not that she didn’t want to, she was just truly confused. After having the significance of cuddling explained to her, she fell in love with it.

-Unironically, she’s the big spoon. She loves holding you, making sure you’re safe in her arms. Now, it’s the only way she can fall asleep.

Miranda:

-This bitch is so crazy.

-All shits and giggles aside, this woman is absolutely sadistic.

-Mind games are inevitable. Especially if she’s truly in love with you, in her dark and twisted way.

-Possessive asf.

-Did I already say possessive?

-Miranda is definitely stingy and will isolate you from your friends/family. Why do you need them when you have her? She’s your Goddess, she’s all you need. Never mind everyone else.

-Definitely the type to tell you to take a nap if you ever say you’re tired of her shit.

-You’re not going anywhere. Nice try, but no.

-I know this is obvious, but her God complex is really top tier. I mean seriously.

-Absolutely loves being worshipped, and not just in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. She wants to be put first, she wants to be your number one priority, your Goddess, your everything.

-She will find a way to incorporate her status & power in everything she does.

-She loves you, but you must always remember your place, under her. Figuratively and literally.

-Despite her cut off personality, she’s definitely a cuddlier. Especially after a long day of failed experiments and aggravating meetings.

-Like Donna, Miranda has been alone for almost a century. She’s so damn touch starved yet also incredibly touch repulsed at the same time. Have fun coping.

-Of course she threatened you if you ever told anyone thou. I mean can you imagine THE Mother Miranda being spooned? Imagine what the public would say.

-Fucking tax evader.

-After she gets Eva back, successfully, she lessens up, but only a bit. Like Alcina, she is the way she is and she doesn’t really see the problem with it.

I want all three of them so badly.

#re8 village #resident evil 8 #headcanons #alcina dimitriscu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #mother miranda is so hot #mother miranda x reader #I need all three of them #poor cutie patootie Donna #wlw fanfic #possessive #crazy #tax evasion #cults #mother miranda #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady beneviento #resident evil #Alcina being a badass bitch

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heisenbergsbitxh · 26 days ago

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The Uncommon Cold

(A Karl Heisenberg oneshot) (UNEDITED)

Had a fun little conversation with @karlthatkillspeople regarding “What If Karl Caught A Common Illness?” and i just had to write something for it—it fixed my writers block. This ended up longer than intended.

Karl had been made aware of the illness that had spread through the village in the past week, as were the other lords, when Mother Miranda had mentioned it during the weekly meeting—an unimportant one, simply a gathering for the four lords to relay intel or current issues in their respective areas of territory. It was nothing more than a common mortal illness, something none of them had to worry about contracting. The cadou infecting each of them had made them to be functionally immortal, and with that immune to illness. Karl hadn’t been sick in well over a hundred years, and even before being taken he couldn’t remember ever getting sick often. He wasn’t concerned in the slightest, hell, maybe those poor mindless peons would finally kick the dust from whatever it was. He couldn’t care less regardless. He wasn’t even sure why the bitch had bothered to mention it to them anyways, it wasn’t much of their problem—if anyone were to worry, it would be Moreau with his past in medical work. The only time Karl ever had to worry about going into the village was if a resident was having issues with something mechanical.

He’d returned to his factory through the tunnels, pushing majority of the meeting out of mind as he returned to his usual work, but it had only been moments after he’d discarded his coat and hat on his desk that the phone rang. His shoulders slumped dramatically, a grumble of annoyance leaving his lips, and he picked up the receiver to place it to his ear.

“Yes, hello?” He hummed. He pressed the receiver between his shoulder and head to dig into his coat pocket, pulling a fresh cigar and taking to trimming it.

“Hello Heisenberg, my apologies, you left in such a hurry.” Mother Miranda’s posh voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Karl and he stuck his tongue against his cheek.

“Oh, yes, Mother Miranda, i…do apologize. You see, i left the stove on…” He hummed, a half assed excuse even for him. He doesn’t even own a stove… “What can i do for you?” He asks.

“There’s a resident down in the village, on the west end, his name is Phillip. He’s one of the farmers. He’s requested your assistance, his tractor has stopped working.”

Karl shoved his cigar between his lips to suppress the sigh that threatened to escape him, tilting his head to glare at the ceiling.

“Of course, Mother Miranda. I’ll head down right awa-“ the line clicks. He pulls the phone away from his ear with a glare, an upturned lip, before snapping it back down to the hook. “Fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even let a man finish speakin’..” his words fall into inaudible grumbles as he finally pulls his lighter from his pocket and sparks it, lighting the cigar and taking a large drag off of it. He rests the cigar between his lips momentarily to grab his coat and pull it over his body, placing his hat back to his head, before spinning sharp on his heel and heading back the way he’d came just moments ago.

Taking the tunnels once again, he came out at the graveyard, a lazy swagger in his step that made his hammer swing heavy over his shoulder. It was raining lightly, and whether it be for sickness or will to stay dry, the streets of the village were sparse.

He surveys the area over the rim of his glasses, puffing at his cigar. The smoke dissipated slowly in the damp air, thickening in the cold. He ran a tongue over his teeth in thought—nobody around to ask for directions, but surely he’d be able to see a tractor somewhere in a backyard or something. He doubted there was more than one.

Surely enough, his eyes landed on a heap of metal hidden under a tarp, and he arched an eyebrow at it. He could see the seat and back tires sticking out, chunks of rusting scrap resting on the raggedy seat.

If that was Phillips tractor, it may be far too gone for the Lord to even bother with. Did these morons think he was some sort of magical god, or something?

…..stupid question, of course they did.

He let out a gruff sigh, making his way down the path towards the tractor. It sat outside an old, rotting gated fence, only the gate lead into the church grounds. He turned the other direction, facing the house behind him. A higher, equally old and tattered fence nearly blocked his view of it, and the front gate was entirely locked off.

Now why in the hell would he be summoned to a house locked off? Not like it mattered, a rusted lock was nothing to him.

With a flick of his wrist, the lock fell, the gate cracked open, and he let himself in. He knocked at the front door with the backs of his knuckles and stepped back. His hammer came to rest at his side, the handle cupped in his palm. A shuffling sounded from inside, scurried and panicked sounding, an item crashing to the floor followed by a muffled curse, before finally the door was wrenched open.

The homeowner was an older man, looking to be around eighty, and a sour expression etched his face at first before it quickly melted away into one of shock and intimidation.

“Oh, L-Lord Heisenberg! My sincerest apologies, my liege, I-I was not aware you— nobody told—“ the old man prattled. He bowed, not far, but Karl assumed that was as far as the man could without displacing a hip. His voice creaked and cracked, wobbling, and whistled from missing teeth.

“Don’t worry about it. Phillip, was it?” Karl interrupted, quickly growing uncomfortable with the worshipping behaviours.

“Y-Yes, my Lord. Phillip Bridges, it is truly an hono—“

Phillip suddenly croaked, his words halting. He sniffles suddenly, his nose twitching, before his head rested back slightly and—

Karl’s head jerked back, face twisting to the side. His lips curled into a sneer in tune with the grunt he let out as a new layer of moisture other than rain suddenly speckled across his face.

“Motherfucker!” His cursed loudly, a few loose screws and nails scattered around the yard rattling in response to his sudden spike in emotion.

He heard the senior gasp in horror of himself. Karl stood still for a moment, focusing his eyes as he tried to process what had just happened, before finally he stood straight once again and slowly turned his gaze back to the man. He brought a gloved hand to his face, pulling his glasses off his face and wiping them with his thumb. Before placing them back to his face, he wiped his hand over his face. He glowered down at Phillip, the frail man cowering back at the look and folding in on himself. A look of pure embarrassment and terror had stricken his features.

“Did you just fucking sneeze in my face?” Karl sneered, rhetorical of course. At his tone, Phillip shuddered and dropped to his knees, hands clasped over his head as a fearful whimper warbled from his lips.

“M-My Lord, i am so—S-so terribly sorry! My deepest apologies, please, forgive me Lord Heisenberg!” He babbled. His voice was weak, wavering, as though he was fighting back a cough. Karl wasn’t listening. “I-it was merely an accident, T-this illness-“ Karl cut him off.

“Any other lord would kill you right now, you disgusting feeble little fuck. Consider yourself lucky, Phillip, and cover your fucking mouth.” He growls, low and threatening. Phillip whimpers, somewhat crawling back on his hunches. “Whats the tractors issue?” He demands.

“E-Engine, m-my lord. W-won’t s-start.”

“It’ll be returned by the end of the week.” He gruffed. “Next time, don’t leave it sitting for the weather to eat.” He grunts, before turning in his heel and walking off the front porch. Whether the dirt that had kicked back under his boot was intentional or not was for god to decide, but the startled yelp and sputtered coughing behind him did bring a wicked grin to his face….

•

Karl had finished with the tractor within three days, returning it to Phillips property without so much as a wave through the window at the owner. It had been nothing more than a few stuck rocks and a need for a few replaced cogs, to Karls relief, which had allowed him to throw himself back to his own work quickly. He’d awoken today feeling odd however.

He felt cold, much colder then the factory usually felt before machines were turned on, yet he’d found with disgust he’d had to practically peel the sheets from his skin with how much he’d sweat in his slumber. His hair stuck to his face, his body feeling itchy from the layer of sticky sweat that covered it. He was used to being warm all the time, the cold was a sudden and unwelcome feeling, but he brushed it off and quickly took to getting himself dressed. As he stood from his mattress however he found himself off balance, staggering slightly in one place as his head spun.

“Woah,” he grunted. He waited a moment, steadying himself against the wall, before eventually standing straight. “Odd…” he hummed to himself. Everything felt fuzzy and off centre. A shiver ran over him and he grimaced, rushing to grab his undershirt and tug it over his head. He followed with his beige over-shirt, his tan military jeans, and finally his jacket. For whatever reason, he still felt uncomfortably—and uncharacteristically—cold, but he ignored the feeling further as a new issue made itself apparent.

The abundance of fabrics and straps was heavy, a feeling that usually kept him grounded and stable, but now made him acutely aware of the slight ache to his body. It hadn’t been noticed before, and even now it was barely noticeable, but it raised alarm sounds in the Lords brain. He doesn’t feel these sorts of things, this wasn’t…normal, whatever normal counted for with him. He’d never felt like this in his life as far as he could remember.

“The fucks goin’ on?..” he grunted. He rolled his shoulders and arched his back, grimacing at the discomfort it brought. He purses his lips. He didn’t have time to ponder it too much. He had more to worry about compared to some odd aches and off temperatures, like the sudden meeting Mother Miranda had called, and the rewiring of several malfunctioning soldats, and the maintenance of an entire factory. He blamed whatever this was on a lack of sleep after having stayed up later than usual the night before.

He picked up his hammer from beside his bed and finally made his way out of his quarters, making his way down two floors towards his workshop where he’d discarded his prior work. He glared at the number of corpse-robots, each dismantled at the chest and backs and slumped over lifeless on gurneys, before setting himself to work.

•

With a final spark nearly hitting his face, Karl leaned back quickly as the soldat jolted to life with a few jagged movements. He’d finished with every one of them side for this one, which was giving him an annoying run for his energy as it seemed to refuse any sort of start up. Karl was growing annoyed, and very much battling the impulse to just trash the damned thing and throw it to sturm as a plaything.

After a moment, the soldat slumped back over with a low whirring noise, and Karl’s nostrils flared. He pulled himself from his seat, letting out an enraged shout and tossing his hat directly at the soldat. He spat down at it.

“You stupid fucki— WORK, damn it! I made you—“ Karl halted, words stuck in his throat suddenly.

He let out a choked gasp, nose twitching momentarily, before his lips curled back and he let out a sneeze that wracked his body. He still for a moment, rubbing at his nose. “Fuck!” He huffed. He sniffled in an attempt to clear his airways, only for another abrupt tickle to strike, and once again Karl was sent reeling as he sneezed. He grabbed at the table, letting out a breath. “Jesus. Fuckin—dusty in here—“ he muttered.

After a few seconds he refocused his attention to the lifeless body before him and grit his teeth. “Stupid thing.” He uttered and stepped back. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat, fumbling blindly for his cigar and lighter, and with a glare still settled on the body sparked the lighter and lit the cigar between his lips. He took a deep inhale of it, expecting the usual smooth woody taste to roll over his tongue and into his lungs and relax him, but instead—

Karl gagged, the cigar dropping from his hand abruptly as he curled in on himself. A hacking cough shook at him, and he clutched his chest. Smoke hovered the air around his face and he wheezed, smacking it away with his other hand. His throat ached, feeling like a literal fire had suddenly erupted within him, and every cough he let out only fuelled it.

After a few moments of hacking, it finally settled, and Karl was left a heaving mess as he leaned over himself with his hand pressed into his knees. He stared down at the cigar, the lit coal having fallen off as it hit the ground, wide eyed and slightly startled at a response he’d not had since his first ever cigar decades ago.

He sucked in a breath, his lungs still burning, and he shivered before leaning to pluck it back into his hands. He eyed it wearily for a moment. His nose felt stuffy, he noticed, and that aching burn just wouldn’t seem to go away. His lips pressed together in thought…maybe he’d just inhaled too suddenly…

He sparked it again, bringing it back to his lips, and slower this time he inhaled.

Once again, it only brought fire to his lungs and throat. He swore he tasted copper this time around as he fell victim to another coughing fit, this time leaning himself over the table and setting the cigar down as carefully as he could manage with the shaking of his entire body.

“What—“ he wheezed, inhaling deeply and swallowing thick. “The FUCK?!”

His throat seemed to scream in pain at the raise of his voice and he winced, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. He brought a hand to his throat and rubbed, groaning softly. “What in—“ his vice cracked and he winced once more as his words were cut off. “G-od’s name?!”

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. If his body hadn’t ached before, it certainly did now, and after the two sudden coughing fits and momentary loss of breath his head hurt now too. He felt faint, something like a fatigue overtaking him. He didn’t say anything, but the persistent dull ache to his throat told him if he tried to speak his vocal cords wouldn’t quite listen. The most worrisome factor to all of this, to him at least, was his sudden inability to smoke a cigar. That was Karl’s thing—he smoked like a damn chimney, he’d always had without issue.

He glanced around the room in thought. He didn’t have time to dwell on it too much, he still had machines to turn on throughout the factory and then he had to leave for the meeting. His eyes settled on the soldat beside him. It would have to wait, which he didn’t like the idea of much, but he tried to tell himself that one singular broken soldat amongst hundreds in the factory wasn’t a huge deal. He took a breath and pushed himself off the table before picking up his hammer and turning to leave the room..

•

Once he’d finished starting up the factory for the day, he was off. He tried to ignore the way his throat seemed to dry out over time, the dull ache becoming more prominent any time he’d clear his throat, pushing past the exhausting that plagued his body despite the early hour of the day, and made his way out of the factory into the tunnels leading to the meeting he was already late for.

His boots trudged along as he entered the room, four heads spinning to look at him.

“Heisenberg, how good of you to join us.” Mother Miranda spoke, a displeased tone to her already condescending voice. Karl took his usual seat at the bench, dropping his hammer next to him. His voice creaked in a way he hoped went unnoticed as he spoke.

“My deepest apologies, Mother Miranda. There was a maintenance issue—“ he was cut off abruptly.

“Whatever the matter, you’re here now.” Her eyes scanned over the group. “Shall we begin?”

Karl could feel a set of eyes on him and he glanced up over his glasses, catching the scrutinizing glare from Lady Dimitescu. She looked displeased at his presence, as usual if not more so with him being late, but she also seemed to be analyzing him. Karl returned the glare before settling back in his seat and kicking a knee up over his leg, choosing to tune most of the voices out unless something caught his attention.

The smell of cigarette smoke wafting down to him from Dimitrescu smoking across from him seemed to taunt him, the craving for a cigar strong after an entire morning without one, and he felt the weight of one unsmoked in his pocket against his chest. He rolled his tongue over his teeth as the urge to smoke gnawed at him, and his eyes fell to a familiar stain in the wooden bench next to him where he’d habitually knocked ash during meetings.

“Heisenberg? Is there anything you’d like to contribute?”

Karl jolted at the sudden voice, sitting upright in his seat. Eight sets of eyes stared through him around the room, patiently awaiting his response. Had he zoned out? He must have, he had no idea what he’d been asked about. He cleared his throat, trying to suppress a wince at the stinging feeling.

“Mother Miranda, he wasn’t even paying attention! As I’ve said many times, Heisenberg has no respect for your time in these—!” Lady Dimitescue erupted, scowling at his apparent cluelessness, and Karl sneered.

“I know exact—“ His voice halted in an embarrassing crack and he swallowed, but before he could continue the tall woman arched an eyebrow down at him. He sneered, baring teeth at her.

“…as I was saying, Mother Miranda. He has no idea what he’s been asked, correct me if I’m wrong Heisenberg, however I doubt it.”

Karl clenched his jaw. He could already feel it in his throat, his voice would betray him in seconds if he tried to respond.

He gave her a look, eyes narrowed. Dimitrescu, the self righteous bitch, began grinning at his silence. Karl couldn’t stand to stay silent at that.

“And what if I missed it? Apologies, Mother Miranda,” he tore his eyes away from the giant woman and turned his attention to Mother Miranda, who stared expectantly at him behind her mask. “It seems I’ve missed something, would you mind repeating?”

He knew his voice sounded off, he could both hear and feel the difference to it compared to his usual smooth and unwavering tone, the way it seemed to crackle. He risked a glance up at Dimitrescu, and to his disgust her grin had practically reached her ears.

“Why Heisenberg, are you alright?” She cooed from her seat, the fake sympathy practically dripping from her lips. “You sound odder than usual this morning.”

Karl clamped his mouth shut at that, a low growl slipping past closed lips.

“Lady Dimitrescu raises a fair question, Heisenberg.” Mother Miranda speaks. “While I don’t appreciate the lack of consciousness to important matters, you do sound quite off. Is everything alright, my son?”

Karl clears his throat, sitting straighter. “Perfectly fine, Mother Miranda. Thankyou for your conc—“ Once again, his voice cut off abruptly, and Karl quacked embarrassingly as a cough leapt from his throat. He brought a closed fist to his mouth, swallowing in an attempt to brush it off casually.

Dimitrescu lets out a surprised laugh. “Black god, Heisenberg. Where have your manners—“ Mother Miranda raised a hand to silence her and her mouth snaps shut obediently. In a sudden flurry of black feathers, Miranda was in front of Karl, and he jolted back in shock.

She peered down at him, piercing eyes analyzing him through the bird-like mask covering her face. She tilted her head slightly, and Karl resisted the urge to smack her away when she brought a hand up to his face. Her touch made him shiver in disgust as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead under the brim of his hat. Just as quickly, she stood straight. “Open your mouth, my son.”

“Wh—“ she gave him a glare, as if to say “cross me no further” , and Karl hesitated momentarily as he glanced around the room. Six eyes peered curiously, one of which full of humour at the situation, and Karl felt a sense of self consciousness eat away at him as he begrudgingly opened his mouth. Miranda peered past his teeth momentarily.

“Hm,” she hummed. “Well, as shocking as it may be, Heisenberg, it would seem you’ve caught the illness that has stricken the village residents. How long have you felt ill?”

Karl grunted. “This mornin’, Mother.” He muttered.

Dimitrescu stood abruptly. “Mother Miranda, do my ears deceive me?! Heisenberg has fallen ill?!” She asked, an almost joyous tone to her pose voice. She stepped closer, as if to get a better look. Mother Miranda gives a short nod before returning to her spot at the front of the pews. Dimitrscu glares tauntingly down at Karl and he scowls up at her.

“Well, well, that explains the uncharacteristic silence! What a splendid gift, I must say.” She trills. She turns to face the front, grinning. “Mother Miranda, I must give my thanks for this wonderful gift! House Dimitrescu will be eternally loyal, this silence is blessed. A deserved and long overdue punishment for this fool, truely!” She continues. Karl lets another growl escape him, standing quickly in preparation to go head-to-calf with the cocky giant before him and defend himself no matter how his voice wavered.

“This was not me, Daughter. Heisenberg was simply unfortunate, however, I am surprised the Cadou allowed such a thing to happen.” Miranda responds before he can say anything. She looks to him.

“Heisenberg, I’ll allow you early departure from this meeting. Return to your factory and rest, and visit my lab later in the evening. This turn of events raises many questions regarding your Cadou.” Mother Miranda orders. Karl’s eyebrows arch up past his glasses in surprise, and after a moment he brings himself to a half bow.

“Thankyou, Mother Miranda. Your kindness knows no bounds.” He utters. He hears a snicker above him and snaps his head up to glower at Dimitrscu.

“Shut it, you oversized cow. I’ll cough in your wine.” He hisses. Her lip quirks upwards and she lowers herself down.

“Such harsh threats, Heisenberg.” She hums. She brings her cigarette to her lips, inhaling softly. “However, I do I wish you a swift recovery, dear brother.” She grins, and to his horror, blows a cloud of cigarette smoke into his face.

Karl chokes, sputtering slightly as a cough rattled him, and he scowls at her one final time before turning in his heel to grab his hammer and take his leave.

As he left, his mind wandered back to the resident from three days prior. He made a mental note to take a detour on his way home, and pay senile old Phillip a visit…

#somebody get the poor man some benedryl #or a cough drop #or bucklys #somebody help the poor boy #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg re8 #lord karl heisenberg #resident evil #resident evil 8 #re8 #common cold #Karl Heisenberg fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #re8 village #re8 fanfiction

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