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concussed-to-pieces · 2 months ago

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Arbiter's Solstice; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. Most of the time.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying what I do! Hopefully I'll see you soon, but if not, stay safe. 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @calwitch @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17 @fyufox @immajojoreference @that-thangiling @n-o-r-4 @hauntedadagium @redjahxfox

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!]

Part One: Chosen

Part Two: Struggles

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

Karl stared aimlessly up at the smoke wafting overhead from the stubbed-out cigar in his ashtray, his fingers tapping the surface of his work bench. The bench was littered with scrap, bits and pieces he'd been attempting to make sense of all morning.

When Donna had sent a request for all able-bodied villagers to assist with the salvaging of the fields and the planting of the autumn harvest, he had assumed you would wish to be exempted from such a tedious task. Instead, you leaped at the opportunity eagerly. Had he kept you cooped up for too long and you just needed to stretch your legs? Or was there something more sinister at work? Had Donna gotten to you with her damn spores?

Heisenberg groaned, rubbing his hand across his face.

The phone above the workbench began ringing, a dull clicking noise that Karl barely registered at first. He drew a circle with his finger, mentally trying to fit several pieces on the table in front of him together. If that goes to here, maybe I can–

Wait, the phone?

The man bolted upright, seizing the receiver and nearly yanking the whole unit off the wall in the process. Through the buzzing hum of poorly-insulated lines came the sound of howling, snarling, and-

“Karl?”

“What the hell is happening, Donna?!” Heisenberg barked, already halfway into his coat. He could almost feel her mustering up the strength to say something through her obviously-crippling anxiety, but he stifled his pity for the woman. Something was clearly wrong. “Donna, what the fuck do you need?” He asked finally, trying to prod her to respond.

There was a choked gasp for air and then she exhaled, “the lycans won't listen.”

The lycans. Fuck. He hadn't spared a thought for them since well before he’d torn Alcina's throat out. They'd been on the same level as humans, annoying, useless.

Heisenberg slammed the phone down into the cradle, certain he'd broken the rotary dial with the motion. It didn't matter.

He grabbed his hat, shoving it onto his head as he headed for the first of many doors to reach the outside. He'd have to muster up some kind of weapon as he went, unwilling to trust the durability of his old hammer. Worst came to worst, he could make something out of the salvaged tractor. He would be fine, it was the birds that unnerved him when he went outside but he would be fine–

Why the hell was his heart beating so fast?!

…

You swung the heavy bucket, clobbering the creature in front of you grimly. The momentum carried you in a circle, almost toppling you, but you managed to catch yourself before you fell.

The lycans had fallen upon the fields without warning, much fewer in number than they had been before the Lady's demise but no less ferocious for their lack of numbers. The villagers, armed with nothing but spades and rakes for turning the earth, quickly rallied and fought back. You had been returning from the well with a fresh bucket of water for the workers to drink, so you didn't even have the benefit of a long-handled tool to defend yourself!

Lycans didn't terrify you like the Soldat had. If anything, you were used to seeing creatures like lycans or Dimitrescu's Moroaică. You weren't thrilled about seeing them, but they didn't necessarily unnerve you, especially since you weren't dealing with them alone. Outside, under the cheery sunlight of midday, they weren't quite so imposing.

You brought the bottom of the water bucket down on the head of another lycan, water flying everywhere as the beast snapped and yelped in response. One of the other villagers swung his rake into the beast's ribs, scoring several deep wounds in the lycan's side.

Where is Donna? you wondered frantically, glancing around for the unwilling leader of the village. The black-veiled woman seemed to have vanished into thin air, however. You and the rest of the laborers were evidently on your own. You set your jaw, working with the other villager to batter the downed lycan with your implements until it stopped moving.

The brutality of the action was shocking, yet you felt nearly nothing about it. Pragmatism, maybe a new gift from your service under Karl? The Lady had always weaponized fear and anticipation in equal measure, where Lord Heisenberg was quick to make a choice and carry it out. If something was threatening you, be it Soldat or despot, end it.

Simple.

You straightened up, wiping the sweat from your brow and squinting through the gritty dust. The fields would be ruined (well, more ruined) if this fight went on for much longer. Someone would need to be decisive to put a stop to the lycans marauding behavior.

That someone turned out to be one Lord Karl Heisenberg, the Iron Horse seeming to materialize out of the dust of the field like an apparition. The large man snapped his fingers, ancient shrapnel rising from the disturbed dirt to do his bidding. Without a word, without so much as a sound, he merely gestured with his hand and every lycan dropped.

You were certain you weren't the only one standing there stunned by the speed of the whole endeavor, but you may have been the only one to notice how hard Karl's chest was heaving. That, combined with the way his eyes darted across the fields until they met yours and his shoulders visibly relaxed–

Gods, his eyes. You were suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason, feeling your body flush with heat as his gaze burned straight through you. To think, you had jumped at the chance to perform some labor away from Heisenberg's factory, just to give yourself the opportunity to have a little space, only to be rendered useless once more the moment his glance landed on you. So much for your noble attempt!

What was less surprising than his reaction was, unfortunately, the way he stormed across the dusty ground, the large man clearly making a beeline for you. You braced for his approach, mentally trying to remind yourself that he still had yet to be cruel to you. Sure, he could be more than a little terrifying, but that came with his demeanor! That came with just being who he was, it wasn't as though he was making a deliberate effort to be so…scary.

The man kicked a dead lycan aside, the limp body leaving a fresh furrow in the ground from the force of Karl's blow. A jagged piece of metal jutted proudly upwards from the base of the creature's neck, black ichor staining the dark hair darker still.

You swallowed hard.

“You,” Karl hissed, but…but he wasn't even looking in your direction? You cautiously glanced around, quickly spying Donna standing next to the field with Angie. “Don't you know anythin’?! You need to turn the soil first, get all the big rocks and metal out of the way before you try to plant! Imagine if one of-” There was a sickening squelching noise as a deadly sharp bit of metal pulled itself free of another lycan's head, the object rising to hover beside Karl's shoulder. “-your villagers ended up losing a hand from something like this?!” The metal shard darted through the air at Donna's head and you flinched, exhaling hard when it dropped harmlessly to the ground at her feet. “You need to think like a goddamn leader!” Heisenberg roared. “You're not some helpless stupid child, Beneviento, so act like it!”

“This reaction seems a bit overblown, Heisenberg.” That may have been the longest sentence you'd ever heard out of Lady Beneviento. Karl halted, obviously surprised as well. Donna's hands were clasped in front of her around Angie, her already-pale knuckles further whitened by the force of her grip, but her voice was steady when next she spoke. “Everyone, please take a short rest. We will return to work in half an hour.”

“Not you,” Karl growled when you attempted to slink off with the rest of the villagers. “You're staying where I can see you.” He then raised his voice to address Lady Beneviento once the villagers departed, “Why the hell did you call me? It's your damn village to manage.” The man griped, shoving his hands into his pockets as you sheepishly moved to stand beside him.

Donna wavered, clutching at a nearby trellis for support. You stepped forward, instinctively looking around for something for her to sit down on, but Karl moved past you and took her arm.

“Have you had anything to eat today? Drink?” He enquired gruffly, clicking his tongue when she shook her head. “Infuriating. It's hot and you're out here wrapped in black fabric. Did your gift eat your brain?”

“I am not so blessed as you.” Donna retorted dryly, gripping his arm. “It is difficult.”

“I'll go draw more water! Uh, can you…?” You held out the metal pail to Heisenberg, who flicked a hand at it and removed the fresh dents. “Thank you!”

…

“Your pet is so dutiful.” Donna remarked after Karl had settled her onto the tailgate of a nearby wagon. “They must be a great help.”

The lord gritted his teeth. “Don't call them that.” He couldn't read her expression beneath the veil, but he could certainly guess. “I'm not fucking Miranda, I don't keep these things around as pets.”

“‘These things’,” Lady Beneviento chuckled, the noise as dry as parchment. “You still want to sound like her. Very well. Not a pet. What, then?”

He gave the frail woman an incredulous look. “None of your goddamn business, that's what. Since when do you care about my affairs? I feel like you've got much more important shit to consider.”

“Indulge me.”

“I'd sooner chop off my own dick,” was the man's uncouth retort. “You've got enough fires to put out, don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”

“So vulgar.” The veiled woman leaned back, Angie kicking her heels rhythmically against the tailgate as she did. “I was only curious.”

“Don't act like we're friends just because I agreed to rebuild your crap, woman. I'm not here to facilitate your entertainment. And neither are they, for that matter.”

“Understood.” Lady Beneviento sighed, actually sounding disappointed.

Karl bit his tongue, both literally and figuratively as he kept himself from chiding her anew on her childish behavior. “Where did the lycans come from? Which direction?” He eventually asked.

Donna indicated towards what was left of Moreau's reservoir. “It has been so dry recently. Have they run out of food?”

The large man offered no response, instead kneeling to examine one of the quickly-dissolving bodies. The creature's ribs were plainly visible, pressing against the thin, ashen skin in unhealthy juts.

“What will I have to offer you for your continued assistance as we plow and plant?” Donna called, interrupting his amateur investigation. Karl grumbled to himself, dusting his knees off when he rose.

“Scarecrows.” He watched her head tilt upwards beneath her thick veil, the woman obviously confused. “You heard me. Build scarecrows. You do that and I'll make sure the rest of the lycans don't get your precious villagers.” Heisenberg paused, a wolfish grin creasing his face. “At least, not while they work in the fields. Deal?”

“More than fair, especially from you!” Angie chirped before Donna could answer. “Maybe you're not so bad.”

“Keep your inane observations to yourself, you little creepshow.”

…

The heavy pail banged against your leg with every step. You weren't certain how much water the Lady Beneviento could drink, but if her appetite was anything like her deceased sister's, you may need another bucket!

Flagging down one of the other women on your way by the resting band of villagers, you requested that she bring some bread and fruit to Lady Beneviento. No doubt the sugar would help to raise her spirits somewhat. To your surprise, however, the woman quickly shook her head.

“I'm not going anywhere near that…man.” She said, her voice just loud enough for the rest of the laborers to hear. “That's Lord Heisenberg.”

You squinted at her, a little baffled. But then, you recalled you had been much the same before everything that had transpired. Her apprehension was incredibly understandable. “Oh, of course! Just bring it to me then, I can bring it to them.”

“Are you certain? What if he…does something to you?” The woman asked fearfully.

“Don't you recognize them?” another woman scoffed from her place at the fenceline, giving you a disdainful look. “They were his handmaiden, of course they're not scared of him. They're the reason we're in this mess, if they had just-!”

“The bread and some fruit, please.” To your credit, your voice didn't shake as badly as you feared. The first woman skittered off towards one of the houses and you set the bucket on the ground to wait for her return, intent on ignoring the daggers you could feel being glared at you. The snide remarks were a bit more difficult to tune out, though.

“No wonder the lord showed up so quickly-”

“What have they been doing in that factory? Can't be anything good.”

“We're only in such a bad state because they refused to follow the orders of their betters!”

“Imagine willingly working for something like that! And with Lady Dimitrescu hardly cold in the ground-”

A covered basket was pressed into your arms, the woman giving you a sorrowful look. “Take care, little one.” She murmured softly.

“Naturally!” You replied with an air of extreme cheer, determined not to let the rest of the gossips know how their words had affected you. Hefting the bucket once more, you listed slightly to the side before adjusting to the combined weight. “Thank you for your hospitality!”

Perfectly willing to accept my help when I'm smacking a lycan with a bucket, but bringing some provisions to their leader is a bridge too far, you groused uncharitably to yourself as you made your way back to the other edge of the field. Ridiculous. If Karl had wanted to do something bad, I doubt Lady Beneviento would be able to stop him.

You hoped the rest of the villagers would be able to observe the lord and lady interacting. Maybe they would be able to comprehend that Heisenberg wasn't…

Well, wasn't as much of a threat as they wanted to believe. You sighed heavily, then straightened back up and pasted on a smile. “Some refreshments, Lady Beneviento!” You announced upon your arrival, waiting respectfully until the woman shifted Angie aside so you could place the basket on the tailgate of the wagon. Karl took the bucket himself without a word, filling the ladle and then passing it to Donna so she could drink. In the meantime you unwrapped the basket, surprised to see a jar of pickled vegetables as well as your requested rolls and a small bowl of raspberries.

“What will you sample first, my lady?” The way you slid back into your more formal manners felt like putting on an itchy sweater. It fit, certainly, it was your place, but that didn't make it comfortable or desirable. You hadn't realized how much more casual you were with Lord Heisenberg until this moment.

“You're eating.” Heisenberg growled, interrupting the woman midway through shaking her head. “You'll do none of those idiots any good if you're dead. You need to be alive if you expect me to keep showing up to deter the lycans. Now eat.”

“Perhaps just a few pieces of carrot?” You bargained, using the provided fork to spear a sliced carrot from the jar of vegetables. “And this bread looks fresh! Hours old, if that. You and Miss Angie are bound to enjoy it, especially with these raspberries.”

“Ah…I suppose. Perhaps you are right.” Lady Beneviento murmured, gamely accepting the fork from you. “The carrots are very bright this year.”

“They are!” you agreed, stunned but delighted. Was this an actual conversation?

Karl refilled the ladle, his expression unreadable as he waited for Beneviento to finish chewing the carrot. “Drink. Small bites.” He instructed her, and you heard a snort from beneath the veil.

“Such a doting brother.”

“Do it, you ungrateful little shit.” Heisenberg snarled. “You want me to protect your sheep? Take care of yourself because after the planting is done, I'm not coming back to your flock.” His eyes wandered to you momentarily before he seemed to snap back to attention, continuing, “you've put enough people in danger today. You need to be able to handle it yourself the next time it comes to your doorstep.”

“There is no need to scold me like an unruly child, Lord Heisenberg.”

Karl tensed up and you quickly replaced the ladle in his hand with an herbed piece of bread, knowing all too well his weakness for the soft rolls. “Please eat, my lord.” You insisted, your cheeks tingling with the effort of maintaining your pleasant smile. “I can assist Lady Beneviento, I imagine you have more important things to tend to. To er, ensure the safety of the villagers?”

The man tore a bite out of the roll, sharp teeth easily ripping the bread apart. “Oh absolutely. You know me, I'm a real…humanitarian.” He doffed his hat lazily at the two of you, then turned on his heel and headed for the small rise of land bordering the fields.

“It is curious how familiar you are with dear Karl.” Lady Beneviento commented once she seemed to believe the man was out of earshot. You froze, panic gripping your throat. “You were his…handmaiden, correct?”

“Y-Yes, my lady.”

“How very strange.” After that, Lady Beneviento didn't say another word, the frail woman seeming, frankly, exhausted from the morning's excitement. The villagers returned to their toil soon after Karl took his position on the rise, the lord pacing back and forth aimlessly as the ground was broken and dirt was sifted. You returned to your labor as well, continuing to haul water or break apart the larger chunks of loam to be sifted, and you did your best to ignore the broadening gulf of distance between yourself, the rest of the village denizens and Lord Heisenberg.

Karl would occasionally pause in his pacing to lift whatever shrapnel was picked from the earth, the man clearly collecting it with the intent to form some new weapon. He had a relatively sizable stack by supper time, when all labor stopped in order for folk to prepare their evening meal. Wearily the group of you trudged off the field, and force of habit led your footsteps towards what was left of Castle Dimitrescu. You were only brought out of your reverie by Heisenberg's voice, nearly jumping out of your skin when he spoke up behind you, “going somewhere, sweetheart?”

“N-No, not at all!” You denied, once more out of habit, turning to face him. “I was just…I was lost in thought.” Karl nodded as though he accepted your explanation, his own brow furrowed. “What are you doing following me, anyway?!” You sputtered.

The man shrugged. “The lycans. You never know where they might come from next.” He then straightened up, lighting a cigar. He hadn't smoked the entire time he was on guard duty, you realized belatedly. Just paced, back and forth, back and forth-

“Thank you.” You blurted out before you could think it through, dissolving into a stammer when he gave you a look of confusion. Something about his eyes tied your tongue in knots, but eventually you managed to explain yourself. “Thank you f-for coming today. I know you don't really like Lady Beneviento, so I really appreciate you–”

“It's not that I don't like her,” Karl interjected, his expression darkening. “It's…it's more than that. Look, don't worry about it. We made a deal, and I'm going to honor my side of it. That's all there is to it.”

It's more than that.

A thought came to you as Karl fell into step alongside you, of Lord Heisenberg and Lady Beneviento…you flinched, shaking your head to ward off that mental image even as your brain pragmatically reminded you well they're not actually siblings, there's no harm in it. Perhaps they had simply found solace in one another due to their unique upbringing, it didn't have to be more complex than that. It would explain a bit of the animosity Karl seemed to harbor for her, especially after his binding–

You had to keep yourself from slapping your forehead in annoyance at your own stupidity, of course that's why Karl was on less than good terms with her! From the looks of things she had been in no position to challenge the Lady Dimitrescu when it came to Heisenberg's imprisonment. Alcina had been…well, a bit of a brute, really. You couldn't imagine Donna defying her in any sense, least of all regarding someone who, in theory, was the only one who threatened Lady Dimitrescu's total dominion over the region.

To think that your misplaced jealousy (and it was extremely misplaced, why on earth would you believe Lord Heisenberg even thought of you like that?!) had led to you immediately assuming to know the hearts and minds of two individuals who were absolutely your betters in every sense of the word. You were ashamed of yourself, feeling small and foolish in your insecurity.

You were a handmaiden, nothing more, and that was how things had to be.

…

Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields.

Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes.

Most of the time.

He'd rest his arm on the handle of his new hammer, rest his chin on that and just let his eyes drift where they wanted. At least you seemed oblivious to his stare, too intent on your chores to bother to remain aware of your surroundings. Good thing Karl was there to ward off anything dangerous that may have approached.

And he had absolutely had his hands full for the first few days. The lycans had tried every which way to get past him in order to attack the vulnerable villagers, but it always ended the same: dissolving bodies pushed off to the side, a few grudging thank-yous, maybe an extra bit of bread and cheese thrown his way during the communal lunch. You'd think he would get a bit more recognition; not a single villager had died yet on his watch.

A distant yell roused him from his staring match with the area you had occupied, the man finding to his silent dismay that you had vanished while he wasn't paying attention.

The shout had come from the direction of the well. Heisenberg straightened up and the other laborers in the field seemed to take notice, their work pausing while they watched him shift his posture. Heisenberg ignored them, one hand reaching out towards the well. He closed his eyes to aid his concentration, the range of his power dependant on his focus–

Lycans. Multiple, his attention leaping from one to the next. A filling here, a screw in the knee there, bodies lighting up with hotspots of metal that he could turn to his advantage even at this distance.

Wait. He had needed to fix you after Alcina, a screw in the knee, what if he'd left something behind–

Another scream, this time from the other end of the field. The lycans had split what few numbers they had left, attempting to pick off outliers before Karl could reach them. The man growled, irritated, then stripped two pieces of metal off his hammer and sent them spiraling across the field. He barely waited to see if they had hit their mark before he bolted towards the well.

Karl reached out again, mentally straining to find something-

There! Bullet, lodged in a ribcage. He doubted you'd ever been shot in your life, so he took the gamble and latched onto the piece of metal, slamming it upwards until it tore free of whatever body it had resided in.

Heisenberg finally crested the hill before the square, taking in the sight beneath him momentarily before he sprinted forward.

It wasn't you. It wasn't you. Where the hell were you?! It was some man from the village, some useless man who was doing his best to defend himself by dashing back and forth around the well.

Heisenberg gritted his teeth and brought the hammer down on the head of one of the frail lycans, spotting another one already dead. That must have been the bullet bearer. The last lycan whirled, snarling and howling at his intrusion. Karl bared his teeth at the creature, seeing Moreau pandering and groveling to Miranda every time he looked at the piscean lord's creations. “What's the matter? Were you expecting someone else?” Heisenberg sneered, watching the beast quail in real time as it seemed to recognize him. “Donna isn't here, little mutt. But you're going to wish she was.”

…

You turned out the loaf from its pan, exhaling in relief when it held strong and didn't collapse. The crust was a little darker than you'd like, but it would be edible enough! People were always hungry at the noon meal, so you had taken it upon yourself to bake extra loaves of the herbed bread. You had the time for it, after all, since Heisenberg took care of most of the chores in his factory! All you had really needed to do was prepare the dough in advance and transport it in the morning, then briefly break away to put it in a borrowed oven so it would be fresh for the communal meal. A simple enough task.

You wiped your hands off on your apron, wrapping the loaves in a clean towel and then tucking them into a basket so you could tote them to the mishmash of tables that had been set up outdoors in the shade of the gnarled orchard. The weather had continued to hold, a blessing and a curse for the backbreaking work that needed to be accomplished, but after such a long time cooped up in Castle Dimitrescu, the sunlight was wonderful and you cherished every moment you could get.

A commotion outside caught your attention and you headed for the door, your basket safely slung over your arm. Perhaps everyone had decided to take the break a little early? It was warmer than usual today, it would certainly make sense-

Karl was in the middle of the field, surrounded by the rest of the villagers. “-want them found now, nothing gets done until they're located!” He was shouting, gesturing down at two more lycan corpses. Your heart leaped into your throat, you hadn't even known there was an attack! Had someone gone missing in the confusion?

“Sir?” One of the men spoke up, visibly shrinking when Karl glared his way and then raising a hand to hesitantly point in your direction. Heisenberg glanced up, paused, and then began shoving his way through the crowd.

You had a ludicrous thought for a moment of fleeing, but you dismissed it immediately. Lord Heisenberg would be on you in an instant. It would be better to just take your punishment on the chin, so to speak.

That might have been easier to accept if Karl didn't look so exceedingly angry. He had even gone a bit red in the face, the color unfamiliar compared to his usual pallor. He towered over you, the large hammer landing haft up in the dirt as he mutely reached for your shoulders. You couldn't help the shudder that ran through your body when he grabbed you, bracing yourself for some terrible beating.

A moment passed. Then two. Your eyes welled up and you blinked rapidly at the ground.

“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively even. You wavered uncertainly, then managed to shake your head. “Why not?”

“I am afraid.” You admitted. “I know I should be able to look at you, but you seem furious. I…I am afraid.”

“You're afraid?” Heisenberg barked that strange, coarse laugh and then embraced you. “I was terrified.” He confessed, low enough that only you would hear. “I…I couldn't find you. I thought-”

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your ears you could barely make out his words. Terrified. He had been afraid…for you? “I don't understand.” You whispered.

“I know.” Heisenberg muttered. Then, “neither do I.”

…

The fields were finally all in order three days later. Donna was hoping (perhaps futilely) to have a bumper crop of corn to carry the village through the winter. The mended tractor had sped up the process considerably, but it was still an immense undertaking to cut back the dead crops and overturn them in the fields that Beneviento did want to use. Obviously she didn't exactly have the manpower that the village had enjoyed during Lady Dimitrescu's tyrannical reign, so she had to make several hard decisions to ensure the survival of the people she did have.

Heisenberg didn't envy her. Of course, that was nothing new, but now he really didn't envy her. It was no small feat managing a village. Hell, he'd had his hands full with his Soldats, and they couldn't even talk back! He knew himself too well, knew he didn't have the patience or the restraint for it.

His eyes wandered to you at your comically oversized stove and he had to snort at himself. Maybe he did have patience and restraint, but only in very…specific scenarios. Speaking of which. “Is it done yet?” He called for the fifth time, your little laugh warming him down to his core.

“Almost!” You answered, turning to give him a quick smile. “I'm sorry, I know you're hungry.”

“You have no idea.” Karl muttered half to himself, watching the sway of your hips as you resumed your task. Starving.

“Are you helping to restore the barn tomorrow? Those that can't are stuffing the scarecrows, so I'll probably be doing that. I'm not much one for lumber.”

Truthfully Karl had forgotten about that next chore. Now technically Donna hadn't asked for his help regarding that anyway, so technically he didn't have to. But the thought of you sitting alone amongst the rest of the villagers was…irritating.

He had heard what they said, he always heard what they said and they were hardly kinder now that his imprisonment had ended. If anything, much of their vitriol seemed to have found a new target in you. Where they wouldn't say anything to his face, they were more than willing to say terrible things to you. He had watched you grin and bear it, but it didn't exactly brighten his day to know that you were enduring bullshit because of him. Add to that the fact that you hadn't ever brought it up to him so that the two of you could do something about it…

It was noble, in an exasperating and unfamiliar way, that you wanted to take on his woes or even shield him from them. As if you cared about him.

You were just some silly human.

Several fresh flatbread on a cutting board landed in front of him, and you carefully placed down a trivet on the table before managing to haul over a heavy skillet full of several eggs cooked in a molten hot tomato sauce. “Please be careful, it's extremely hot,” you warned, but Karl was already midway through digging a large spoon (more of a shovel, really) into the delicious-smelling mixture.

“Do you have time to eat?” He asked gruffly as you moved to return to the stove. “With me, I mean.”

You paused, giving him a surprised look before answering, “of course, if that is your wish.” Karl made a small motion with the spoon and you practically glowed, your smile was so brilliant. You rushed to pick up a small bowl and then you attempted to serve Karl, which the lord immediately brushed off. He instead placed a substantial amount of the tomato mixture into your bowl, topping it with one of the eggs like a garnish.

How much did you even eat? He wasn't usually in the habit of watching you consume your meals, too busy with his work to bother. The man tore one of the flatbreads in half to share, unable to fight his smile when you shyly accepted your piece. “Enjoy.”

…

You were hopelessly in love, despite your best intentions. Absolutely smitten, entirely entranced, mired in juvenile infatuation. You stuffed more leaves into the patchworked shirt that would eventually become the body of a scarecrow and you did your best not to let your eyes wander to where Lord Heisenberg was working on the barn. It was a futile effort, of course, but you really did try!

It wasn't exactly fair that he had abandoned his shirt hours ago, the other villagers laboring alongside him in a similar state of undress. He was just so incredibly strong, and so casual about his strength. Carrying beams of lumber with ease to shore up the collapsing roof, using his strange power to tighten otherwise unreachable bolts or to wrestle with problematic nails…you knew you ought to have been paying more attention to your own task, but you also knew you weren't the only one looking at Lord Heisenberg.

Indeed, several individuals around you who were also busying themselves cramming dried cornstalks into old pillowcases would occasionally pause, hands going still while they watched Karl do something particularly impressive. Something in your chest tightened when you noticed the amount of attention fixed on Lord Heisenberg, but Karl tilted his head at that moment and caught your gaze. The man smirked, throwing you a wink, and you frantically ducked your head to avoid further humiliation amidst the tittering laughter of your peers.

Honestly, you had shared breakfast with Lord Heisenberg, not any of these other individuals. You had been Chosen for him at first, but after everything was said and done, he had chosen you. Perhaps…perhaps it wasn't so bad to have a little pride in such things.

You dared to sneak another look and when Karl met your eyes again, you gave him a soft, fond smile before returning to your task. There was still work to be done, regardless of your own internal discourse, and certain things couldn't wait.

…

Heisenberg sought you out at the noon meal, the man having taken note of the furtive glances you'd been shooting his way all damn morning. He had to admit, it was…flattering, but also oddly sweet.

He posted up alongside you on the bench, a trencher of excessively-cooked fish balanced on his leg. You passed him a slice of bread with some pork drippings while apologizing for the lack of salt, but the man waved you off, gesturing down at the fish. “Help y'self,” he mumbled through his first bite, “watch f’ the li'l bones.”

“I suppose-” you began, tugging at the still-attached tail and then making a quiet noise of surprise when the spine snapped, dropping the rest of the backbone onto the plate. “Oh dear. Well, that makes it easier.” You delicately placed the tail off to the side. “The Lady only ever had us prepare red meat or poultry.” You said, half to yourself while you frowned doubtfully down at the remains of the fish. “I'm not quite…sure how to do this.”

Before he could think better of it, Karl picked up a piece of the fish and easily stripped several sections off the ribs, offering them to you wordlessly. You accepted with a grateful smile, placing your portion onto your own slice of bread and then taking a large bite. The man continued to prepare his own smaller portion, pretending not to notice the way you gulped water with every bite.

“It's a bit, er, dry.” You mumbled when Karl finally asked how you liked the fish. “I'm afraid I don't understand the appeal. Maybe some seasonings would improve the flavor?”

Karl cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. The fish was as dry as a bone; he was more impressed that it had stuck together this long instead of just evaporating outright. “You're drinking more water than the fish did.” He remarked, making you sputter. “Don't worry, it's edible. Whatever you don't want, I'll finish.”

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful.” You apologized guiltily, ducking your head.

“We'll eat good tonight.” Karl crunched a needle-like bone, feeling it pierce the side of his cheek. “Let the rabble burn their fish and gawk at their betters.”

“Oh, you noticed.” Your voice had gone thin.

“‘Course I noticed. I'm not goddamn blind.” Heisenberg growled, “they're terrified of me but they'll stare like slack-jawed idiots as soon as I show some skin.” He turned to the side, leaning in just a little and lowering his voice. “You're the only one I want gawkin’ at me, sweetheart.”

You stared up at him, gawking in every sense of the word. Karl could feel his smirk making a triumphant return and he dared to slip a finger beneath your chin, feeling the way your pulse beat wildly at his touch.

“Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he teased, tapping his thumb against your lips and then pulling away once more. “We can discuss further, when we have some…privacy.”

You blinked hazily before jolting, your back going poker straight as you focused your attention pointedly on the remains of the fish.

…

“It's not hard to notice the way you treat me.”

Karl turned from his workbench to look at you, the lord obviously surprised by your words. Your whole body was trembling but you did your best to maintain some level of eye contact. You already knew he could sense your fear, but hopefully he wouldn't misinterpret your apprehension.

What you truly feared was rejection, or even disposal after brief fascination. The Lady had been so changeable in her moods and while Karl hadn't displayed quite that same level of vacillation, he did have a temper which seemed to burn hot. You weren't sure if you would be able to endure being disposed of, being ignored for the rest of your days once the shine wore off.

“You treat me differently than the rest of the villagers.” You did your best to gentle your tone. This wasn't an accusation, after all, but an observation.

Karl stood. “You make it sound like I shouldn't!” He half-laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. “Why wouldn't I treat you differently? You're the only one worth a damn in this entire village. You're the only one who treated me like a person, it's only natural that I'd treat you right.”

“You're a lord, though.” You pointed out. “You shouldn't display favoritism.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I care about what I should or shouldn't do?” Heisenberg asked incredulously. “I killed Alcina. You of all people can understand that's something that I technically shouldn't have done and yet here we are, sans one noble House Dimitrescu.”

You shook your head, wishing you could just get him to understand. “It's not like that, it's just that…I mean, the rest of the villagers, they…” You trailed off, frustrated. What would you even say? ‘They're being rude to me’? Oh surely, what a change in behavior. “They just treat me differently.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You were both startled by the speed and volume of your denial, Karl snorting in apparent disbelief at the outburst. You glared at the floor, making a futile attempt at hiding from the man.

“Then what's the problem?” He asked brusquely, one ankle tucked behind the other as he leaned against his workbench. “I'm offering even more than what I've already done, and I don't want anything more in return. I'm offering what you know you want, sweetheart.”

“You know what I want, now?” You shot back, a little irritated at how easy everything seemed to be for him.

“Of course.” Karl replied with a cocky little tilt of his head. “You want me over you, or maybe under you. Behind you? Choices, choices.”

Your dream from the other night raged to the forefront of your mind once more and you buried your face in your hands with a frustrated little scream. “I didn't want to be like this.” You mumbled through your fingers, oblivious to how stiff Karl's posture went at your confession. “It's not my place to be like this, surely someone else-”

“No one.” The lord said curtly. “Not a soul. They can look at me all they want, but it'll be you I'm coming back to every night.” His expression softened ever so slightly. “If you'll have me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

“If…if I agree to this,” you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “If I agree to this, you have to promise me that you won't…I mean, that if you get bored of me or you grow tired of my company, you'll state it plainly. Don't lie to me to spare my feelings, just tell me outright. I couldn't bear continuing to…engage with you if you no longer found my company pleasant.”

“It won't come to that.” Karl stated firmly. “Promise me you'll do the same, though. If you decide you'd rather move on, let me know so I can send you off.”

“I doubt it will happen!” You rushed to assure him, “but I will acquiesce, of course. Neither of us are obliged to stay if we are unhappy!”

“Good.” Heisenberg fidgeted for a moment. “Can we…” He made an odd gesture at your pallet, “discuss further?”

“What else is there to discuss?” You queried, genuinely confused. Karl rolled his eyes with a groan, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you to your pallet. “Lord Heisenberg, I-”

“Karl.” He breathed in your ear, his voice sending an entirely different shiver down your spine. “Call me Karl when we're alone.”

“O-Of course.” Lord Heisenberg looked down at you expectantly and you bit your lip, hesitant even now. “Karl.”

“Sweetheart,” he practically purred the endearment, the gentle tone of his voice and the adoration in his eyes leaving you breathless.

“I will meet you however I can.” You offered, propping yourself up on your elbows beneath him. “I am, however, not overly experienced in these matters.”

“Do you want me inside you at some point tonight?” Karl asked bluntly, smirking when you sputtered. “Don't worry about your experience. Whatever you've had, I'll make you forget about it.”

“Oh.” You wheezed, more than a little frazzled. “Surely it would be better for you if I knew what I was doing?”

Karl ran his tongue over his teeth in that odd, nervous gesture. “Not really. I don't want you to be self-conscious.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. The man began unbuttoning your shirt, shoving the fabric off to the side so he could kiss your collarbone.

The feeling of his facial hair on your bare skin had you trembling beneath him, your hands feebly gripping his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself. Oh certainly, there had been juvenile fumblings under the stairs in the kitchen, but you had never engaged in anything so…all-encompassing. Karl seemed ready to undo you entirely, the man taking his time with every button and hook that he encountered.

He finally untied your breast band, slipping the cloth out from beneath you with a soft rustle. “I'm going to put my mouth here,” Karl warned you, his expression serious.

Unsure of where here was, you still nodded your head, crying out when Karl roughly laved his tongue over your right nipple. The man coaxed the bud into his mouth, humming while you bucked and squirmed under his ministrations. No one had ever-!

His free hand sought out your other breast, fingers teasing and fondling you to stiffness as you whimpered and bit down on your knuckles in an effort to keep quiet. The man growled something against your skin and then his knee dug beneath your thigh, hooking your leg up over his own and pressing his pelvis to yours through the layers of clothing. His skin was so hot, and the way his intense eyes watched your every move as you reacted helplessly to him…it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Karl,” you half-sobbed, fingers fumbling at the open throat of his shirt. “Please, please Karl-”

“You don't even know what you want,” the man gently teased you, undoing the laces on your skirt and splaying the homespun weave open on either side of your hips, leaving you wholly exposed aside from your underthings. Karl shoved your legs up over his thighs, leaning his body forward to return to your breasts. As he did however, he rutted against your pelvis firmly, making you whine without intending to. You flushed hot, avoiding his eyes as he cautiously shifted his weight. “Mm, what's wrong sweetheart? You're so quiet all of a sudden,” the lord breathed, grinding his body down in an abrupt motion that startled another whine out of you. “Is this what you want, hmm?”

He didn't wait for whatever reply might have been forthcoming, the man busying himself at your breasts again. You arched your back, feeling his canines scrape your sensitive skin in a delicious tingle of sensation. “Karl-”

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, slipping a hand into the band of your underwear and tugging them off, then unbuttoning the placket of his pants. “Look, look at me.”

You managed to raise your head to stare down the length of your body at whatever he was trying to show you, your half-lidded eyes widening and the flush rising on your cheeks once more. Karl huffed out a breath, stroking his cock and pressing the heated skin against your wet cunt. You were so slippery that he ended up sliding over your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit with a harsh little bump that had you whimpering.

“Too much?” Karl asked through gritted teeth, forcing out a laugh when you vigorously shook your head. “Good, right? Feels good?”

You could barely get a word out, your voice dissolving into a moan when he reached up to toy with one of your nipples again. “Yes, yes, please…”

“Alright, I'll keep goin’.” Karl assured, using his hand to spread the lips of your cunt a little wider so he could slot himself against you more firmly. His low rumble when he rutted his cock between his hand and your cunt fanned the ache deep in your stomach, making your hips jolt up of their own accord. “Oh, easy, easy,” the man gasped, obviously startled. “I know you want more, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you.” He held up his hand and you realized dimly that it was trembling. “Inside, yeah?”

You nodded wildly, propping yourself up on your elbows again in an effort to watch what he was about to do. Karl shot you a wink, making you let out a nervous giggle. The sound quickly turned into a gasp as he tapped his thumb to your clit and pressed his middle finger against your entrance, the rough pads of his digits rasping along your skin briefly. Then he breached your cunt, his finger experimentally stroking at your insides while his thumb rolled over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart.” Karl instructed you softly.

“Karl, I-” your voice cracked and broke when the man pressed his index finger into you, spreading you wider and making lewd, wet noises with your cunt.

“I know,” he crooned, “I know sweetheart, you're already so wet for me but we need to make sure. Show me what you like.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed. “I don't–I don't know.” You admitted softly, arching your back when he flicked over one of your nipples again.

“Mmm, I think you do.” Karl growled, tormenting your nipple with firm strokes that he echoed on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. “How do you make yourself feel good?”

“I haven't!” you denied desperately. “I wasn't allowed, I-I–”

“No?” Karl interrupted you, raising an eyebrow. “You never found something that made you feel nice? Never took advantage of…oh, I dunno’, a certain angle, maybe a pillow?”

“Wasn't allowed.” You reiterated, practically babbling while his fingers curled and thrust into you. “Wasn't allowed wasn't allowed-”

“But did you?”

“No!” You sobbed, caught off-guard when he twisted his wrist and did–something with his fingers that made an explosion happen behind your eyes. Your whole body went tense and then a warm sensation flooded your groin, pulling a bone-deep groan out of you as you sank into the pallet once more.

“Coming so soon? Guess you were serious.” Karl sounded surprised, but also like he was talking to you from down a hallway. You whimpered instead of replying, making him laugh.

His cock slid along your pussy again, sending a lance of heat into your belly. Your cunt was still riddled with aftershocks from whatever Karl had done to you, the man panting softly as he rolled his cock over your twitching entrance. Back and forth, back and forth, every motion inspiring that same heat to build in your stomach and causing you to moan in response.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.” He requested, clapping a hand to your shaking calf. “Let's get these nice and wide for me, loosen everything up so you're comfortable.” Broad palms kneaded at the insides of your thighs, the man helping to warm up the spasming muscles with careful strokes. His fingers were still wet from being inside you, leaving cool trails along your inner thigh when he moved his hand. “I…I can't promise this is going to be good at first.” Karl warned, his expression slightly pained. “We can stop now.”

“No, I want it. I–” you hesitated, still not certain of what exactly you were hoping for. “I want everything.” You finished instead, hoping you sounded firmer than you felt. “I can endure it.”

Karl chewed on his lower lip. “If it's too much, you'd better tell me.” His voice dropped into a lower, more grave register. “Understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, Karl.”

“Good.”

…

It still took Heisenberg a few minutes to work up the courage to start. He justified the delay by continuing to work you over with his fingers, mentally warring with himself while you sighed and panted under him.

He could stop. He wasn't an animal. He could be careful, and you had given your word that you would tell him if it was too much.

It would be enough. It had to be. Damn it all, if he couldn't trust himself to manage this now, he never would. Karl grimaced, tucking his fingers beneath your chin to hold your gaze. “I'm going to start.” He said quietly, “it may be uncomfortable.”

“I understand.” So brave, always so brave, staring up at him with a hazy sort of determination that sent a hot rush down his spine.

The lord barely refrained from nervously laughing, choosing instead to spread you wide and rest the head of his cock against your entrance. He didn't move for a moment, giving you the opportunity to say no, but in a surprising twist you wrapped your fingers around your own thighs, clumsily helping him to hold you open.

Karl slowly, slowly pressed his dick into you, the man finding himself having to adjust multiple times in order to keep the motion relatively smooth. Gods, you were so soft and warm, it was incredible. If it wasn't for the guilt he felt welling up inside him, it would be perfect. But despite your natural lubrication and warmup this was still obviously a massive undertaking, your voice cracking when you exhaled a moan of what seemed to be discomfort as he bottomed out. “Oh, Karl, oh God–” you whimpered, fingernails digging into your own thighs. “Can I–can you hold still? I need-I need a minute t-to…”

“Of course.” Karl muttered before you could finish, settling you carefully into the cradle of his hips. “Let me know when you're ready.” He rested his thumb on your clit, the digit sweeping softly back and forth while you breathed deep and adjusted to his size. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.” He continued, hanging his head when you inadvertently clenched down on his cock. “As long as you need, I can wait.” Truthfully, being inside you at all was undoing him, but he wasn't particularly concerned about his own stamina. He doubted you'd care either.

Speaking of which, you tilted your hips upwards slightly and Karl watched your eyes fly open, the man biting back a smirk as you all but fucked yourself onto his cock for a breath. Heisenberg pressed a hand to your chest, easing you flat once more.

“I can take it from here, sweetheart.” He murmured, “do you mind if I finish inside you? Promise it won't do anythin’ but make a mess.” The cadou, the gift from Miranda, had given many things to him, but it had also taken much away. Humanity, normalcy, the promise of a simple life with someone else…

In response your heels dug into the small of his back, sheathing him impossibly deeper into you. “Please,” you begged, your eyes teary and cheeks wet. “Need you, need all of you.”

Heisenberg snarled, fucking down into you. He tugged your legs up off his hips, bending them at the knees and forcing you wide open, vulnerable for what he knew would be an insatiable event. “Take it then, sweetheart, take what's yours.” He crooned, certain deep down that he was being at least a little mean. After all, you were giving him this precious gift, the least he could do was behave himself. Easier said than done with your nails scraping tiny crescents between his shoulder blades though, easier said than done when your mouth was right next to his ear and you were sobbing his name while he fucked the sense out of you. Maybe you didn't mind him being a little less gentle?

Karl pulled out and rutted against you for another moment, enjoying the way your clit pulsed when he tapped it with his cock and the way your body went tense with the pressure. Evidently you were wound even tighter than he was, despite your lack of experience. You cried out when he reached up and teased one of your nipples, your back bowing in response.

“You close again? Want to come on my cock?” Karl asked, laughing outright when you nodded desperately. “Anything for you sweetheart. Hurt a little less?”

“It's not–it doesn't hurt, you just…” your fingers tangled in the sheets as you fidgeted, obviously trying to explain what it was that you felt. “You're so deep. It's not a…not a hurt, it's more of an ache.”

“Too deep?” The man queried, already considering what he needed to adjust posture-wise to keep you comfortable.

“No, I–” Karl felt the heated flush that spread across your skin, the man patiently waiting until you admitted, “I enjoy it, Karl. It's…I like it.”

“You like me deep inside you?” Heisenberg rolled his hips, sheathing his dick once more and thrusting hard enough to knock the breath out of you for a moment. “As deep as I can get?”

“Please-” you begged, “you fill me up so well–”

“Well I'm sure as hell going to,” Karl grunted. “I want to keep doing this forever, if you're amenable.”

“I'd like that.” You smiled tearily up at him and Karl's breath hitched, hips stuttering as he lost his battle against the urge to spill into you.

“Sweetheart-” he gasped in your ear, the thunder of his own pulse nearly drowning out your whimpering. “Fuck, sweetheart, you're everything, you're all I want, you…I love you.”

The man froze, realizing what he'd just blurted out (and the way your body had reacted to it). You tilted your head back, panting and moaning while your soaked little cunt throbbed around him and fucking hell–

Maybe it was alright. Maybe you hadn't heard him.

“‘Love you too-” you managed to say, your voice weak and tremulous.

Something inside Karl snapped (snapped more?) and the man buried his face in your neck, growling swears and entreaties in equal measure as he fucked you through your climax. Your answer was to wrap your arms around his neck and beg for more, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging until his scalp ached hotly. Karl wanted to scream, he wanted to fight something, but more than even those most primal urges, he just wanted to fuck you until you forgot your own name.

A combination of your come and his own began to sluggishly drip from your cunt onto the sheets, clearly not helped by Karl’s relentless rhythm. The man absently slid a hand beneath the small of your back to adjust you and his fingers passed over the raised area of the multiple cursive Ds branded into your flesh. Again speaking before he thought, driven entirely by base instinct and possessive rage, the lord bared his teeth and seethed, “You are mine. Nobody else gets to touch you ever again.” Not Alcina, not fucking Moreau, never again.

“I'm y-yours, I'm yours Karl…” was your stilted, hiccuping reply, not that he'd even needed (or deserved) an answer. Heisenberg felt his expression soften, felt the fight-ready tension in his shoulders unwind, and the man placed apologetic kisses along your breasts and collarbone. You were so impossibly good to him, it was evident he would be repaying you for the rest of your time together.

“I dreamed about doing this.” The confession was soft, rasping in his dry throat. “Stuck in my cell, I-I'd think about it. You were so damn nice to me, I just…” Karl hesitated, well aware of your half-lidded stare boring a hole through him. “I wasn't used to humans being kind. Hell, anyone being kind. Guess I'm a little fucked up.” ‘A little’, fuck's sake.

“I would have let you.”

Fuck's sake.

Karl closed his eyes, resting his forehead on your collarbone and exhaling raggedly. “I wouldn't have been good to you.” He admitted. “I was still too angry, too mean. I don't…it wouldn't have gone well. Trust me, it's better this way.”

You pressed your face into his neck, inhaling deeply and pressing kisses to the sweaty skin there. “I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart. I was fucked up before you were born.” The man shook his head, rolling his shoulders absently. “Fucked up, stuck in the cycle of being bitter and hateful, helpless to do anything but wallow and further other people's ambitions…it really got to me.” He nudged his nose into your cheek teasingly. “And then you came along.”

“The Lady chose me for you, she said it was a great honor.” You rolled your eyes, huffing out a breath. “She didn't mention the part where I would be sacrificed at the solstice, of course.”

“Well yeah, you wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise,” Karl allowed, his smirk fading slightly. “But then you chose me. A hard road to walk, sweetheart, and I don't take it for granted. I…thank you. For–well, for everything.”

You sniffled, burying your face in his neck once more.

Karl hummed in contentment, continuing to fuck you at a leisurely pace. “What do you say–” he panted when you clenched down on him again, “we do something special for the winter solstice?”

You squinted up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. Karl just pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiled his usual, self-satisfied grin.

…

“I'm not certain that I-” you paused, excusing yourself as you yawned broadly. Karl continued wrapping a patched scarf around your neck, patiently waiting for the rest of your question. “-understand what the whole point of this is, Karl.”

“Have some cider.” He insisted instead of answering you, pressing a warm, chipped mug into your hands. “It's almost time.”

You grumbled a little to yourself but obediently sipped on the mulled beverage while Karl banked the fire in the stove and put on his own coat. Several days before the winter solstice, the man had gone out and constructed a small shelter on the rise of land the Duke normally inhabited, and it was from this shelter that the two of you emerged into the frigid blue of dawn. The Duke, parked nearby in his cart as ever, offered a wave but no further commentary, for which you were immensely grateful. It was still a bit early to be cordial, nevermind carry on a full conversation.

The air was breathtakingly cold; you could feel the rush of wind whipping past your nose and biting at any exposed skin it could find. The hot cider was now a lifeline and you kept your mittened hands tightly wrapped around it, taking a more hearty sip.

“Not long now.” Karl murmured, embracing you from behind and resting his chin on the crown of your head.

“Are you going to explain to me what the point of all of this is?” You grumbled, slouching back against him.

It was several minutes before Karl spoke again, the man seemingly content to sit in silence. “It's…I don't know, it's like the opposite of the binding ritual.” He fidgeted with your coat for a moment (well, it was one of his coats, but you'd sewed an extra thick lining into it to keep yourself warm), eventually tucking his hands into the pockets.

You hummed, not overly certain you understood what he was getting at, but also no longer cold.

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, burning through the tall pines and setting the morning mist alight with prismatic eddies in its wake. You squinted against the brilliant beams, every inch of your body suddenly tingling. It felt a bit like waking up after a long, long sleep in an awkward position, disoriented and rumpled. Sometimes in Heisenberg's factory you could go days without seeing the outside world, so perhaps your reaction was to be expected. It was a beautiful sunrise, all things considered.

Karl sounded a little faint when he said, “I think…I think there might have been something to that old witch after all.” He shook himself bodily, as if he was a dog that had just been given an unwanted bath. “Granted, nothing she can do about me now. But it does feel sort of–mystical.” He muttered something you couldn't make out under his breath, then raised his voice again. “Shortest day, longest night, rebirth, blah blah blah. We'll have to have a huge bonfire tonight, I guess.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head back to look at him. “Why?”

“Burning away the old, in with the new.” Karl sucked in a deep breath. “I'm…I'm happy you're still here with me.” He said gruffly.

“I'm happy to be here.” You assured him, your voice soft.

“...I haven't told Donna I'll be building a massive fire next to her shitty little village.” Heisenberg mentioned casually moments later, as though it had only just occurred to him. Judging from the incredibly smug grin on his face, however, that had been his plan from the start.

With Karl animatedly explaining about the Wild Hunt and the connections between someone named Freyja and the winter ‘rebirth’ of the sun, the two of you set off into the woods to search for dead trees and other dry kindling, his hand in your own. His grin eventually softened into a genuine smile as he answered your questions, and you found yourself falling silent just to hear him expand upon what was clearly a favored subject to him. He had a strange light in his eyes, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. It seemed more like he was returning to life.

The arbiter that was the solstice appeared to have once more come to bear, the cycle beginning anew. You had broken the previous cycle of course, so you hadn't the faintest idea of what this new one could have in store for you, but you knew for a fact that whatever the future held, you and Lord Heisenberg would face it together.

Karl, you thought privately, a content little smile on your face.

“Why are you starin’ at me like that?”

You started, realizing belatedly that yes, you had been staring at the large man currently giving you a sideways look. “I–you seem happy, that's all. And I'm glad that you are.”

Karl blew out a raspberry, the steam from his breath swirling into the air. “‘Course I am. You're here.” You started beaming and he groaned, rumpling your hair while teasing, “don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Just because I want to keep you around forever…”

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse…and lastly, your love.

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #loyal mad dog trope #happy ending #it is a good day #enjoy!

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reobsessed · 2 years ago

Text

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.

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x oc #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg x You #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil #re #my fic #reader fic #re village #fanfic

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danosrosegarden · 5 months ago

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batshit crazy antagonist lovers after getting kidnapped for the 43rd fic in a row

#eli’s funnies #edward nashton #the riddler #karl heisenberg #who else #pearl mia goth #if anybody actually wrote fics about her #btw i’m changing that in october #it’ll probably get like three notes but whateva #i’m a creep i’m a weirdo #fanfic #fanfiction #fic writing #writing

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crowtrobotx · 2 months ago

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EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LOOK WHAT @vodkafolie MADE ME FOR MY BIRTHDAY 😭😭😭

It’s Lottie and Kris from my fic, Chrysalis. I’m throwing up, screaming, wailing etc. 🥺 Werewolf mama deserved to hug her baby and I took that from her bc I’m a monsterrrr but Vodka has corrected the issue for everyone. (Karl is obviously the one taking the photos)

#real tears were shed #thank u so much again homie this really made my life #karl heisenberg x oc #chrysalis (fan fic)#resident evil oc

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reevesdriver · 11 months ago

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Now why do video game designers gotta make some of the finest men ever ?????

#also if you wanna request any fics of these dudes then hit me up #mine #captain boomerang #karl heisenberg #arthur morgan #joel miller #call of duty #könig #ghost #simon riley #john mactavish #john price

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theredofoctober · 1 year ago

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Alice by Cocteau Twins was in my mind so often while writing the Alice In Evil/Wonderland/Bandersnatch series for Karl Heisenberg. Also a lot of Emilie Autumn (The Asylum For Wayward Girls mainly), Korn (Dead Bodies Everywhere), and a loooot of Tom Waits (What Is He Building In There? Underground, Alice, Hell Broke Loose) were in my thoughts.

Other bands/artists that inspired me: Cocteau Twins, Mercy Necromancy, Elephant Woman, Deftones, Chelsea Wolfe, PJ Harvey, Avenged Sevenfold (don't laugh, they bang), Kate Bush, Jack Off Jill, Switchblade Symphony, Radiohead, Bambi Baker, Black Box Recorder, Nicole Dollanganger, Lingua Ignota, Björk, and many others!

#ao3 writer #wonderland fic #bandersnatch fic #thoughts with thenightsibling #thoughts with theredofoctober #karl heisenberg fic

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ashbeneviento · 2 months ago

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Donna Beneviento slight AU Fic idea that I had but have no spoons to fully write about myself but still wanted to share-

Throughout the game, there’s hints that point to Donna’s family taking root just outside the village long before Mother Miranda arrived. Her collection of books and the way her home is set up reminds me of Secret Societies or cults, along with the symbolism of hanging corn/animal mounts along the wall. So who’s to say the Beneviento’s weren’t some powerful cult Miranda took inspiration from AND also sought them as a threat? Or waited until the family birthed daughters instead of sons to fufill her plans?

After the events of her sister and parent’s untimely demise (or was it?) Donna, being raised by her family’s cult or secret society (prehaps even a coven, based on her Sun and Moon symbolism) hatched a plan. In the game, Donna’s spare bedroom upstairs showcases a book titled: The Decline And Fall Of The Demon King. This can be based off the real book, “The Downfall Of The Demon King” where the synopsis is: "In the beginning, four beings ruled the world. They call themselves Entities. These creatures use their immense power to protect mortals from beasts and nature itself. And in return, the mortals built cities and shrines around them. For centuries, the world was at peace, until the fifth Entity was born. They called him the Demon King. It is said that his power was so dark and fearsome he could end the world. Terrified of the Demon's King strength, the four Entities combined their power and imprisoned him for all eternity. With the Demon King defeated, everyone lived happily ever after. At least that's how it was supposed to go…”

Maybe the Beneviento clan always birthed two sons, the women always being married in. This would prevent the events of the “Fifth Entity” from occurring, and the four “Entities” happened to be relative to the original “kings” we see in the game. (Images found at the bottom of this post)

The original four families being Berengario, Lord Cesare, Guglielmo, and Uncle Nichola. Canon states this: “Donna Beneviento was born into the gentry of House Beneviento sometime during the 20th century, a family with ancestral links to Berengario, a man rumored in folklore to have been an ancient mutant who settled the region with three other houses from which the Dimitrescu, Moreau and Heisenberg families are descended.”

Because Miranda knew this, she hatched a plan to destroy the other three houses by eliminating the families, leaving one relative unaware of their family lore as a means to keep them loyal to HER and leaving the Beneviento’s for last, as they were beings who may have inherited mutations from Berengario. That’s why when Donna and Claudia were born, daughters instead of sons..the events of the fifth entity (Mother Miranda) set in, and she was the last to be adopted into her cult.

But Donna is obviously very intelligent, still aware of the “prophecy” because her family wasn’t destroyed until she was older (Miranda couldn’t use Claudia like originally planned because the cadou killed her). And by secretly letting the other Lords aware of said prophecy using her powers, they all hatched a plan to fake being loyal to Miranda and their deaths by Ethan. This is why the megamycete didn’t fully use Rose as a vessel because it couldn’t produce enough energy for Miranda’s ritual, and she was ultimately defeated. Donna, now even more powerful than before by “stealing” Miranda’s gift of the cadou was able to turn their deaths into an illusion.

I’d also like to think Angie uses part Donna’s cadou, part soul to be animated- and the other dolls are created using only the souls of her relatives which is why they don’t speak. They were already dead, meanwhile Donna was not, yet it caused her to die somewhat to be able to pull a ritual of “possession” for Angie. This is why her eyes are pale and grey, a mimicry of what happens to the eyes after death.

Her facade of being a reclusive and shy woman leads Miranda to believe the Duke would never do business or interact with her, and is the only Lord where he does not show up to in the game. The Duke may be an old friend to the Beneviento’s and helps the “four entities” to defeat Miranda, given his interests in obtaining such rare items such as their crystal corpses. He would have all the items needed to help transport them to a different place undetected. (Again, the crystal corpses are just hallucinations caused by Donna and they aren’t actually dead)

Some other ideas I had for this AU was that instead of feeding on blood, fish, or nothing at all.. Donna fed on souls. This would match her constant dark, macrbe energy perfectly. She’s close to the dead, her family is an ancient cult/coven..it all makes sense 🤷🏻‍♀️

Sure, there’s tea cups set about her house in game and even a kitchen.. and maybe she enjoys human food to an extent but her energy comes from souls. The way she gets this is by trapping poor unsuspecting villagers who disrespect her/are bad people into other dolls, transferring their “lives” into puppets to do her bidding while also feeding from them which is why she makes so many of them.

Anyways that’s my idea rambles, feel free to share your thoughts and if you happen to use this in a fic please tag me because I’m desperate to read it 🥲 I just have no clue how to flesh it out but really needed to get it out of my system lol

(Pics from “The Four Entities and Original kings” section of this post)

#resident evil village #donna beneviento #resident evil 8 #re8 village #mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #resident evil village au #fanfiction #fic rec #capcom

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loveaetingkids · 8 months ago

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As much as I love reading fics with Karl Heisenberg bonding with Rose I would also like to see more of them acknowledging how Heisenbergs background is tied to his perception of kids.Because in the game,he was raised as a science project by Mother Miranda,only seeing her “children” as guinea pigs.Similarly, Alcina Dimitrescu took under her wing Bela, Daniela and Cassandra after these three previously human women were subjected to experimentations,making them forget their past,serving as a sort of empty vessels Lady Dimitrescu can project all of her ideas and beliefs onto. Living with a twisted perception that children are made with a certain goal in mind for them to achieve can actually shed light as to why Heisenberg proposed to Ethan (the wording was intentional) to weaponize Rose without thinking that this suggestion would actually upset Winters.While he claims that he’s not like his siblings and is against Miranda,he fails to acknowledge that he did internalize some of her views; therefore it kinda makes sense as to why he didn’t foresee Ethan’s refusal,as he thought that all parents/guardians raise their children similarly to Miranda.So that’s why a story partly or fully centered around Karl seeing Ethan loving his daughter not for her mold potential but for who she is might be so alien to Karl,and him getting to understand that treating children as fellow human beings is normal would be so interesting to read.

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littlelesbinonny · 4 months ago

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The Devil's Den

Chapter 47: In Which Pieces Get Set For Motion

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/150347506

You stood looking at the entrance to Alcina's city from the steps of the church's hall that lead to its underbelly.

You knew the way. Sort of. You had your cell phone for a flashlight and figured there were really only so many ways you could get lost. At least until another vampire or lycan found you. Though you didn't know if that would be a good thing, either. But, it was also only 3 in the afternoon; shouldn't they all be sleeping?

"I've never been there myself," Father Sullivan said, now beside you with his hands folded neatly, "but you're welcome to stay here as long as you like if you're wary of the trek."

A soft sigh escaped your lungs and you glanced over at him, "this if my first venture by myself," you admitted, "I'm not really needed down there until tomorrow, but."

"Your nerves are getting the better of you?" He offered at your hesitance.

"Little bit."

Father Sullivan smiled and straightened his sturdy back, "Lady Dimitrescu does that for all of us here," he grinned wider, "though I don't think it's her you're so nervous about."

Your blush was muted but you felt the warmth, "no, not her... but she definitely has that immobilizing intimidation thing going for her though, huh?"

"Indeed!" He laughed, "though I am grateful for her potency. Effective should be her middle name."

"You know, I think it actually is."

"It would not surprise me in the slightest."

The two of you shared a laugh and then you took a big breath, releasing it with an even more embellished sigh.

"Good luck, miss," he nodded at you, "give the Matriarch my regards."

Welp, if you were looking for a nudge or a send off, that was good enough.

Goddamn it was dark. And eerily quiet.

It became progressively cooler as you made your way further and further down and you were glad you were wearing what you were. You could recall that it was chilly the last time you were here, but at the time you had enough adrenaline pumping through your veins it didn't bother you in the slightest. If Alcina wanted you to move down here, there'd be some serious accommodation issues to be addressed.

A hint of firelight from the torches you remember from your walk with Alcina finally leaked into the darkness, a bigger smile coming to your lips as you rounded the corner to this lit area that reminded you the entrance to the city was only 3 more turns away.

As you stepped carefully through the tunnel mouth, placing your hand carefully on the intricately carved stone banister of the large stairwell down into the city, you took a good moment to really look at it.

It really was beautiful. In its haunting, quiet, and macabre sort of way.

Hundreds of years of hard work went into creating this. Uncountable hours making everything as beautiful and mysterious as the inhabitants therein. Humans used to make living art like this, but now everything was boxes and boring. It gave you nostalgia you'd never felt before. This place could almost feel like home.

Taking silent steps, you descended the many stairs and realized only when you set foot onto the familiar cobblestone streets that the bite of cold in the air was now very comfortable. You sighed pleasantly.

With no real rush to get to Alcina's manor, you took advantage of the empty streets and admired the many structures as you went.

Most of them seemed to be made of the same stone that made up the underground itself; dark and shiny, almost coal or obsidian like in the right light. While others were made of a lighter stone; a type of granite perhaps. And others, though very few it appeared, were made of wood that had been either stained or painted over with darker colors like forest green, ocean blue, and you spotted one or two further off that looked merlot in tone.

Some homes, and what you assumed were gathering places like what would akin to a bar for the human world above, were 2 to 3 stories high. The architecture of many of them felt very much like the French Quarters one would find in Louisiana, others were very gothic-cathedral like, and some were as ornate and beautiful as a Victorian mansion you'd seen pictures of.

There were only 3 buildings that stuck out apart from the rest in height; one you knew as City Hall which could be seen from every corner with its massive imposing, sharp domed peak, the Matriarch manor that was far to the left, and one in the far back that you hadn't noticed before. It stood taller and wider than everything else, had hundreds of tall glass windows, and had a most beautiful amber glow emanating from each of them. Another council hall maybe? A hotel? Your brain chuckled a little at that thought, but it really didn't seem so far fetched; while these beings were undead, they were still human, they still traveled, did most of the normal things you did, didn't they?

As your train of thought continued down the tracks, it was derailed quite loudly as you approached a very large familiar gate.

Fuck.

How exactly were you going to get in? You knew this thing was damn well locked, and you didn't have a key, nor any way to alert Alcina you were there.

Your hands carefully pressed to the thick heavy metal but all you got was defiant resistance in return.

Fuuuuuck times two.

Perhaps your wild hair to show up early could have used a little flat-ironing.

Dropping your gaze to your feet in a bit of sheepishness, the idea of sitting like a lost child in front of Alcina's gate until someone noticed felt pretty embarrassing. But, suddenly there was a disturbance in the air and a soft whoosh as you looked up to find a brilliantly smiling Cassandra right in your face on the other side of the bars.

"Hi," she grinned, "you're early."

"Uh - yeah, a bit, sorry - I hope that's -"

"You're eagerly awaited!" Cassandra smiled even wider as she opened the gate and waved you in.

Well she definitely seemed eager and you weren't sure how exactly to receive it, but you nodded shortly and stepped through, "oh, ok, well, thank you for let -"

"Of course." She cut you off, latching the gate and ushering you towards the manor, "mother hasn't returned yet, but my sisters and I are up so you can relax with us until she's back," Cassandra continued, a more devilish smile gracing her lovely face as you entered the house, "let me take your coat, and you can put your bag right here," she more or less instructed as the front door shut and she reached for your article before you'd even began removing it.

You were still registering the pace in which you got in here by the time two more bodies showed up behind you.

Bela, the blonde, was smiling much more warmly and comfortably than her brunette sister, and the redhead who was almost right in your face had the same devilish, although slightly more chaotic, grin slathered on her facade. She looked far too pleased to see you than you had anticipated and you swallowed.

"I hope you weren't waiting at the gate long," Bela chimed in trying to inch Daniela back a little, "we weren't expecting you for a while, but we're glad you're here."

You nodded through a short smile, "yeah, sorry, I guess I -"

"No need to apologize," the redhead beamed, "we can show you the rest of the manor and hang out until mother is back!" She bounced.

Cassandra snorted as she walked around the side of you to walk past her sisters with a wicked smirk, "I think I smell a little guilt in that excitement there, Dani," looking back and eying you pleasingly, "she's the one who found you and drug you to the club that night, you know."

Well that was one hell of a revelation. You'd not really considered how you'd ended up at the club for the longest time, and now you were half mortified and curious as all hell.

Daniela's entire demeanor plummeted into the ground, her face blank, eyes wide as she looked at you then shot her sight at Cassandra, "why would you tell her that?!" She blurted breathlessly, her hands now on her face in embarrassment, "I - We - I'm -"

"Jesus Christ, Cassandra," Bela stated starkly, moving in and wrapping her arm around Daniela, exasperatedly shaking her head as her sister disappeared down the hall then looking to you regretfully, "I'm sorry... and welcome to our home where that one," she motioned her head down the hall, "has no filter or any couth AT ALL, and the other three of us live in utter madness at all times when Cassandra's in a mood."

Ah. So Cassandra was ruthless. Duly noted.

Daniela was still quite beside herself and unsure where to look and you felt so badly. Even if it was true, that was a sharp way to throw that information at everyone's feet. You'd never had siblings but you had heard plenty of stories of how brutal the relationships could be. Being undead probably allowed for a whole new level of brutality to ensue.

You reached your hand out to Daniela and touched her arm briefly but reassuringly, "it's all good," you offered with a warm smirk, "I guess by technicality I should be thanking you, really, for the new life I've got and whatnot."

Her eyes were flipped from upset to beaming hope in a split second as she stared at you, "r-really?"

You shrugged with a bigger smile, "pretty much. I'd never have met Alcina or had any of this happen if you hadn't... ya know. So, yeah. Thanks."

The haphazard hug you received from Dani was just tallying up the unexpected event points you'd had in the last 10 minutes and you just chuckled, hugged her back, and decided everything from this moment on was likely going to be just as unpredictable and giving into that would just be easier than not.

"Ok, good," Dani huffed, grabbing the sides of your arms hastily after releasing you, "if you hated me because of that I would be so upset, I mean, you have every right to be, but it wasn't intentional, I mean none of the choices are intentional for the most part so you were just more or less collateral, which sounds insensitive, but I don't mean it to be! You just -"

"Dani," Bela stopped her barrage of blurting thoughts, "maybe go find our guest a human drink, like one of those bottles of wine mother likes that doesn't have blood in it?"

The redhead looked at her sister briefly, then to you, flashed a humble smile, nodded and then dashed off in the same direction Cassandra had gone.

You, still processing, took a deep breath.

"I am so sorry," Bela offered once more, "she's not used to interacting with humans. Or any type of normal interaction, really."

You chuckled, "it's ok. But I sure do have questions, although I think I'll just save them for much later."

Bela smiled warmly and waved her hand down the hall, "that might be best... We really are happy you're here, though. But please take Cassandra with the most miniscule grain of salt. And Dani will calm down eventually, but until then, I'll play mediator as much as possible."

You had been given a glass or normal wine as the showcase of the manor began. Cassandra was mostly reserved through the adventure but added in quips as she saw fit while the tour went on. Daniela was the main storyteller and Bela was the stability you leaned on when those two got into it over whatever happened to come up at any given moment. You loved the banter and couldn't help but imagine what it was like for Alcina raising them back into the women they were today from where Mother Miranda had left them. You could see her strength, resilience, tenacity, and spunk in each of the girls, even though they were all uniquely themselves. It was warming.

The 4 of you were now in the turret, your second favorite room in the manor, as the conversation and interactions had gotten much more smooth and comfortable.

Settling into one of the couches, Bela sat adjacent you on a plush leather sofa, Cassandra perched directly across from you on what you assumed was her chez lounge, and Daniela had hopped off to grab you another glass of wine. You really didn't need another one but she was so happy to be of service so you couldn't say no.

"So," you began tentatively, "have any of you ever been part of a grand council like what's coming up?"

Cassandra ran a hand through her long hair with a scoff, "god no," she chuckled, "and thank fuck, because to hear how mother tells it, they're fucking awful."

"They're not awful," Bela stated with a look thrown at her sister, "but taxing would be a better word. These councils are strictly for those in charge; leaders of clans; sometimes the heads of military, but never anyone else, so no, luckily we haven't. I bet you're not looking forward to it."

"I'm going into all of this completely blind, so I'm pretty hesitant and nervous."

"Ah, just zap 'em with your fae powers if they give you any shit," Cassandra grinned, "and believe me, there are several who will."

Bela rubbed her forehead, "stop trying to freak her out."

"I'm not! It's true," Cassandra rebutted, flinging her hand to her sister dramatically, "how many times has mother returned from the yearly meeting talking about how annoyingly confrontational that French bitch, oh what's her face - Margery, Margaret - "

"Marguerite?"

"That bitch!" Cassandra slapped the arm of the lounge, grinning at Bela, "she's always starting shit with mother - the biggest gossiper outside of Pablo - although Pablo is hilarious. He's the head of the coven in Spain," she went on, looking at you, "he's incredibly handsome, very vain, and so snotty, but he has comedic timing like you wouldn't believe."

Daniela had returned with your other glass of wine and handed it to you with a glimmer in her eye, "what'd I miss? Who's so funny?"

"Pablo," the other sisters answered in tandem.

"Ohhh, yeah. He's awfully self centered though." Daniela added, plopping next to you, "but god is he cute."

You couldn't help but chuckle, but as you were going to ask another question your phone dinged in your pocket. Pulling it out there was a text from Malka on the screen but you'd ignore it for now. At least, you could. There was a redhead within breath range of you as you looked over and you watched her gaze as it fixated on your phone.

Daniela's eyes snapped up to you, "oh my god, that's a nice phone," she smiled, "do you have any cool games on there?"

"Uh, yeah I've got a merging game on there I play from time to time." You replied unable to hide your amusement.

"Oooo, what's a merging game?"

You had to remind yourself they didn't have cell phones and games like you had at your fingertips everyday, so her childlike curiosity made your smile grow even wider, "want me to show you?"

"YES!" Daniela squeaked.

Cassandra rolled her head back on her headrest and groaned, "my god she's unbearable."

"It's no big deal," you said as you opened the app and leaned into Daniela's space, "here, it's called Merge Dragons."

You let her watch the load screen with awe at the colorful, cuter than necessary dragons and scenery unfold, and when the game started you just handed the phone over to her, "so, see these?" You pointed to a couple squares that had identical items, "find another one of those and place it in one of these squares - " Dani did just as you instructed and the 3 merged into a new upgraded item, "and that's basically the jist of it."

Daniela's eyes were even bigger as she pulled your phone screen closer to her face with utter glee, "THIS IS SO COOL!"

Her fingers started tapping and dragging away and you just chuckled, "well play away, I haven't been on that in weeks."

"Thank you!!" She squeaked one more time before huddling into the other side of the couch, continuing to play.

Bela smiled at you warmly, "she's obsessed with technology."

"But mother won't let us have any." Cassandra whinged.

"Yeah, so I've heard. Why is that?" You asked.

"Hell if we know; you'd think for her ancient ass she'd have kept up with times a little better, but no, apparently cell phones are the devil."

Bela rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, "mother is old fashioned, and it's not like we're hurting for it."

"She's boring."

"You just want a cell phone so you can hunt the easy way and be lazy," Daniela chimed in slyly, glancing over at you only briefly to resume the game, "dating apps, you know?"

You raised your eyebrows high at her comment but quickly regained your composure.

"Oh piss off Dani," Cassandra spat, "it's not being lazy, it is literally broadening my horizons in the vastest way possible! I have expensive tastes but sometimes I like fast food."

Cassandra winked at you and you so wanted to understand what the hell that meant but you also were pretty sure you didn't at the same time.

"ANYWAY," Bela cut off the conversation, setting her sight back to you, "the council meeting - I think you have little to worry about, really."

You took in a deep breath and nodded, "thanks, I've not heard much else from Alcina about what I need to do or who all these people are so... my overactive mind has been pretty occupied with it."

"Well, if my memory serves me, now that Miranda is dead, there's only eight clans with leaders, so... that leaves mother with ours, the Shadowed Dominion. Then there is Marguerite, from France, her division is called Les Chevaliers des Ténèbres, or the Knights of Dark. And then there's Pablo's faction; La Bella Damned. The Dutch lady, uhm, Belinda, with the Eternal Dominion. Escamillo and the Kiss of Shadows clan. Verona Giordano, whom you will love! She's from Italy, such a wild woman with a feisty personality, and her clan is called the Nightfall Legion. Then there's Ishaan, he's over the Moonlight Bearers - and lastly, Auguste with the Fallen Devil's clan... at least, I think that's all of them."

Cassandra leaned over languidly, "you got the Escamillo wrong, it's Emiliano with the Kiss of Shadows."

"Oh... yeah that sounds right; Emiliano."

"But yes, Bela is right; you'll love Verona. She's like our honorary aunt. Very loud. Very in-your-face. Love that woman."

"She sounds fun," you replied, "her I'm looking forward to."

"For real though, steer clear of that French bitch," Cassandra added, "she's a nightmare."

You'd take her advice and do just that, but likely with most of them, just for safety sake.

Karl stumbled into his shop with several full oversized bags slung over his shoulders, though he was met with the light already on and a figure in the shadows of the corner where his best comfy chair resided. Dropping the bags with a thud he flipped the rest of the light switches on aggressively to see who had invaded his space.

The person in question was certainly not who he'd expected.

"The fuck you doin' in my shop, murder mittens?"

Alcina dropped the book in her hands to her lap with a flump and arched her brow fiercely, "you want the truth?" She asked flatly.

"No. I love being lied to - the fuck you mean; do I want the truth - DUH."

She sighed heavily as the burly, disheveled lycan made his way over to her and uncrossed her leg, eyeing him with less scrutiny and more calculation, "this is the only place the clan leaders won't think to look for me."

Karl stopped dead in his tracks and looked blankly at Alcina. Then he started to laugh. Guffawing would be the better word.

"For god sake would you keep it down," she scolded, "this is why I hesitated to even tell you!"

He regained himself slowly, then plopped next to her on the neighboring stool and shoved his hands under his suspender straps, "oh damn Alci, you could not have hit me with a funnier mental image; big tall scary vampire hides from much smaller less fierce vampires in the lycans shop to avoid responsibility - I love it! You can hide here all you like, shnookie-ookums!"

"Oh dear Christ, Heisenberg, you're mental alright."

"Ah, c'mon, we rebels look out for each other, so don't get your titties in a twist - I got your back."

He was so crude, Alcina just rolled her eyes and closed her book, "you can leave my tits out of all of our conversations, if you please... have you had the pleasure of running into any of them yet?" She asked, referring to the leaders and changing the subject as fast as she could.

"Nah. Heard a gaggle of commotion as I passed around the back of City Hall so I assume Donna's got them all wrangled like the heard of gobbling geese they are. This week should be interesting, eh?" He nudged, "but I swear to god if they find out you're here and they start snooping 'round here all the time we're gunna have words."

Alcina blinked, "for both our sakes, I promise they won't find out." She leaned back and huffed once more, "and yes, this week, and likely many more will prove to be incredibly eventful. Dmitri, my men, and yours, are still pilfering through Miranda's labyrinth of chaos and uncovering more and more each night... I'd rather not deal with it at all, but alas, duty prevails."

Karl nodded and took off his hat, tossed it onto the nearby counter and shrugged, "I say burn the whole thing down, all of it. We already know she was psychotic, why keep any trace of it."

He had a point, but as much as she didn't want to admit it, she wanted answers just like everyone else.

"If it were up to you and I, I'd actually let you," the look of pure surprise and a cocky esteem boost made her choose her next words carefully, "however, it's not as simple as we both want, so cool your jets. But if burning it down comes to the surface, you'll be the first to know."

Karl smiled, "now that I like to hear." He reached for a beat-up metal box and opened it, plucked a cigar, lit it, and eyed the book on Alcina's lap, "whatcha readin', toots?"

"Twilight."

His brows shot for his hairline, "don't make me have you committed."

Alcina actually snickered, "please, I'd rather gouge my eyes out with red-hot pokers," she smirked wickedly, "it's one of your machining books I found on the shelf in the back..." Peering down at the cover she sighed, "almost as eventful as Twilight - "

"Now hear hear," he grumbled, reaching for the book and grabbing it up, "them's fightin' words." He tossed it onto the counter and took a long puff, offering it in Alcina's direction, but after she softly declined he tilted his head, "hey, when's your better half coming back down here? Seems weird not having the spicy little fairy running around."

Once more Alcina's brow arched, "tomorrow night."

"Did you give her a prep talk for what's she's getting into?"

"Well, I suppose you could call it that. But I don't foresee her 'getting into' much. If someone decides to pick a fight, they will be sorely displeased at their choice..." she smiled broadly, "now that I've got blood on my hands, I'm not opposed to doing it again."

Karl just grinned, "feral you is so satisfying," he cackled, "it's always been my favorite version."

"I'm so pleased," Alcina mused, "but, I do suppose I should get home to my daughters. It's nearly nightfall and I'm sure they'll be readying to go out. Lucky shits get to roam freely while their mother is strapped to responsibility."

"Yeh, definitely not the funnest thing to be strapped to. Personally I prefer a four-poster bed with - "

"Well that's enough of this conversation!" Alcina said hastily, cutting him off none too soon, rising off the chair eying him stoutly, "good night."

He waved amusedly at her as she walked her way out and chuckled under his breath, "night, night! Get fae-bae to strap you down instead!"

Alcina's grumble was barely audible to him as she quickly made her escape but he continued to laugh as he began to go back about his business in his shop.

Getting through the city undetected was more difficult that she had anticipated, and having to act like she wasn't trying to go unnoticed by the passerby's was just as aggravating. But after her best calculated detours, she finally was far enough away from the hot spots of the city to move freely and get home.

The lights were on in the turret and she smiled warmly to herself as she slipped in through the gates quietly as possible. She was certainly tired, but knowing her girls were awake and she'd get to see them before a few hours of shut-eye gave her a much needed mood boost.

Alcina halted for a split second as she stepped through the threshold of her home; the undeniable smell and feel of you permeated her senses and she almost audibly sighed at the relief that you were here. And then a pang of anxiety thudded against her; dear god please let my daughters be behaving.

With silent swiftness and agility Alcina scaled the stairs to the turret, and with great relief found the 4 of you lounging in the middle of the room talking, laughing even. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned on the archway, admiring a scene she wasn't sure she'd ever see in all her years. You. Her daughters. Together. A whole new tidal wave of emotions she hadn't prepared for about bowled her over, but it was such a comforting sight she could barely breath, unwilling to shake the image in front of her.

Cassandra, whom she was most worried about, was doing most of the talking with you, and Bela was smiling from ear to ear, and Daniela... Daniela was... playing on a phone? Alcina narrowed her eyes at the girl and the intensity of the focus seemed to beckon her awareness.

Daniela's eyes shot up, and at the sight of her mother in the doorway unshuffled herself from the huddled ball in the nook of the couch with phone in hand and gasped; "mother!"

All eyes turned to the smiling matriarch and everyone rose to greet her.

"Well, isn't this a nice surprise," she cooed gently as her girls came to kiss her cheek, those silvery slate-colored eyes looking you over so fondly, "I hope the three of you have been nothing but hospitable to our guest?"

"Yes, mother," Cassandra drawled, "although Dani stole her phone and hasn't given it back since she got here."

"That's not true!" Daniela argued, warily handing your phone back to you, "she let me play on it, I didn't steal anything."

Alcina looked to you for confirmation, or something of that sort, and you obliged with a nod, "yeah, no it's fine. She leveled me up like 5 times, hell of a gamer that one." You smiled at Dani. She beamed.

"Mmm, I see," Alcina mused softly, "well she and I have quite a bit to discuss now that she's here... are the three of you headed out soon?"

Bela shrugged, "I'm in for the night I think."

Cassandra, in a less than obvious fashion, nudged her sister in the ribs with her elbow. Hard.

"U-Uh, uhm, actually, yes, yes I think we're all headed to the park tonight," Bela recovered, snagging Dani by the arm, "so, we'll see you two later."

Cassandra joined the link and pulled her sisters with her down the stairs, a jumble of 'byes' drowning out as the girls took off.

You were still shaking your head with a chuckle as you looked up at Alcina, feeling very out of place still, but happy and relieved to be with your vampire feeling less and less vulnerable as the seconds passed.

"You came early," she cooed as she stepped forward, grabbing the sides of your face gently, planting a tender, needful kiss to your lips.

Instinctually, your arms slipped around her waist and you sighed into her kiss, "yeah," you muttered, "was getting antsy up there above ground without you."

Alcina could feel the weight of her weariness pressing down on her now, having you here, the worries of you being away, gave her reprieve that she didn't know she was needing so badly until now. She sighed, pressing her forehead to yours, "did you have any trouble getting into the city?"

"No, it was pretty empty when I got here."

"Good. And the girls? They were nice to you?"

You giggled, "yeah, they were great. Cassandra is very feisty, Dani is adorable, and Bela is definitely the diplomat between the two."

Alcina laughed low and warmly, pulling back to smile at you, "there is rarely a dull night in this house."

"I can absolutely see why."

"Come," Alcina smiled through her sigh, reaching for your hand, "I want to change into something comfortable."

With Alcina now dressed down to a simple yet elegant white slip of a night gown, and matching robe to drape over her bare shoulders, you admired her from a far as you unpacked your bag and placed your things in the drawers next to 'your side' of the bed, as Alcina had pointedly told you. It was weird. But it was wonderful. Feeling like you had an actual spot for your own things here with hers; in her home; your heart swelled a little with how permanent this was all starting to feel.

The two of you had spoken about your afternoon with her girls, Alcina's busy day with Dmitri, Donna, and Gerard, all while successfully not interacting with any of the leaders that had made their way into her city, and how tomorrow would, hopefully, pan out.

"... everyone will be accounted for tomorrow, now when the meeting itself begins, will be another story," she explained, sipping on a glass of blood wine you'd silently escaped to grab her as she was changing, "but it will be simple; you will accompany me to City Hall, sit at the table beside me, introductions will be had, and depending on how the council converses, next steps will be had according to vote. I know the lot of them will demand to see Miranda's lair here, and likely her abode in Connecticut, which while I'm curious of myself, would rather not have to babysit these imbeciles without knowing what I'm also getting into."

Her sigh was heavy and you scooted closer to her on the lounge, running your fingers over her arm you could see how tired she was. She'd gone almost a full 20 hours without sleep and you could already tell she wasn't intaking blood wine in a manageable fashion to keep up her strength. You had a feeling you'd be babysitting her just as much as she'd be doing for them if this is how she was taking care of herself this far in.

"Well, I don't know how much real help I'll be, but whatever you need me to do, just tell me." You reassured her with a smile.

"Ah, draga mea," Alcina cooed, "you being here is the best help I could ask for already."

Taking initiative to act on your offer to help, you took her empty glass from her, placed it on the glass table in front of the chez lounge, and carefully straddled her lap, peering down into her eyes.

"You're wiped, I can tell," you said, stroking the sides of her face, "and if you've got to be at the ready here in about 6 hours, I think you should drink from me, and then we should cuddle and sleep while we can... then tackle those pesky leaders, hm?"

Alcina's hands grasped to your hips as she hummed over your suggestion, feeling her desire for you and your blood rising in her bosom, "just cuddle and sleep? I do believe I enticed you here early with my promise to ravish you in my bedchamber, dragoste... Did I not?"

Her wink made your cheeks blush, "ok, mmmaybe a little, but - " you tilted your chin up, "your wellbeing comes far higher on the importance scale than getting fucked silly... besides... I don't plan on going anywhere too soon, so... we have plenty of time."

Your smile made her absolutely weak, just as much as your admission did, "really?" Alcina asked airily, "you're not rushing above ground as soon as you get the chance?"

Shaking your head you leaned down and kissed her bare lips, plush and still as soft as ever even though they were missing their crimson paint, "my plants are watered; my crows know where I am; I'm here for a while, if you'll have me."

Alcina hummed low in her chest as her hands mapped their way further up your sides, pulling you into her as she peppered kisses along your collarbone, "I would like that very, very much."

Her lips crept further and further up your neck until your lips were pressed together again, breathy 'I love you's' exchanged as she wrapped her hands under your thighs, rising with you off the chez to drop you into the bed with her, languid, passionate, truly comfortable kissing commencing as clothes were removed and naked flesh pressed close as the two of you settled into a perfect fitting mess of tangled limbs. Not shortly after you felt the nip of her sharp teeth nibbling at your wrist, the icy prick of her bite causing your eyelids to flutter shut as she drank, the fueling sensations it bestowed both of you satiating the hungers within you. And then within the darkness, she wrapped you up in her arms and in such rhythmic perfection, the two of you fell fast asleep. The worries of what came in 6 hours shoved to the wayside.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #alcina dimitrescu/reader #lesbian #f/f #fanfic #wlw #fic #karl heisenberg #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu

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thewritersaddictions · 10 months ago

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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-

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concussed-to-pieces · 2 months ago

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Arbiter's Solstice; Part Two

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: You had never seen a Soldat in the light before, or as much light as this. It was human-shaped but it did not look…correct. You knew you made a noise, some startled sound, and the thing turned.

A/N: A little Black Friday special. Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!]

Part One: Chosen

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence and extreme depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

Your head was throbbing, but you still forced your eyes open after several moments of waiting for the spinning to subside. White cloth met your eyes, dim, flickering light filtering through it. You tried to move, only to discover that your arms and legs appeared to be secured somehow.

Panic thrummed beneath your ribs. The sound of a heavy metal door being firmly closed echoed distantly; you had no idea how far away it might have been. Soon enough, however, footsteps made their way towards you. Confident strides, though not slow or heavy enough to be the Lady's.

Heisenberg?

You twitched when a firm hand caught your wrist, whoever it was silently taking your pulse. “I know you're awake.” He finally said. “Can you hear me?”

Karl. You nodded, gasping in pain when a headache sprang to life.

“Easy, easy, don't move. I did what I could for you. Can you open your eyes under the wraps? Tried not to cover them but-” You felt him shrug. “-aesthetics are not ever going to be my concern when dealing with head wounds.”

“What happened?” You could barely hear your own voice, it was so feeble.

“You got your head split open.”

“Mmhm, remember that.” You paused, “where is the Lady Dimitrescu?”

“Dead.”

Your eyes widened behind the wrappings, then filled with tears. “What…what will happen to me now?”

Fingers plucked at the bandages on the side of your head, catching an edge and slowly unwinding the fabric until you could see again. Your head ached anew at the unshielded light of several candles in the room, and the grave expression on Heisenberg's face (riddled with unfamiliar scars) did little to assuage your concerns.

“What will happen to me?” You asked again, staring up at him helplessly. “I…I don't have anywhere to go, if not House Dimitrescu.”

“No family?” Karl's voice was strangely hoarse when he asked, his hands busily working to apply a fresh dressing to the wound on the side of your head.

“No one.”

The man closed his eyes, turning away. “Got it.”

“Lord Heisen-” Karl's head jerked up and he inhaled sharply, the motion startling you enough to make your already-weak voice peter out. His gaze was as intense as ever, but you found it familiar, almost comforting.

Almost.

“I need you to rest.” The lord said stiffly. “You're still exhausted. You need time to heal.” His fingers grazed your wrist, loosening whatever had restrained you.

“I'm aware.” You retorted, getting him to crack a wan smile. Then, “thank you.”

Karl's brow furrowed, the man obviously confused. “Rest.” He finally grunted. “We'll reevaluate how thankful you are once you see your stitches.”

“Is it bad?”

Heisenberg groaned, smoothing a palm down your forehead to usher your eyes closed. “Sleep, damn it.”

…

Your recovery was slower than you'd like. After the beating you had taken from both Lord Moreau and Lady Dimitrescu, you knew you were lucky to be alive. Even if you weren't overly mobile at the moment, you were still grateful. What you could gather from Heisenberg's sparse conversations about the incident led you to believe that you were in a very bad state when you had been…recovered.

“I did what I could.”

You couldn't complain, all things considered. It was odd having someone else take care of you, though. Your food was brought while you were asleep; aside from Karl you saw no living thing. But you could hear them in the halls around your room. Shuffling footsteps, metal banging and scraping, the occasional low groan.

“Are there still Soldats?” You asked one day. From what you could gather, your ‘quarters’ were simply a corner of Karl's workshop that he had partitioned off, the man always laboring over some piece of machinery on an enormous workbench when he was present.

Karl stiffened from his place at his bench, the muscles in his neck visibly cording when he did so. “Yes.”

“Are they safe?”

The lord lolled his head back, leaning against the bench with a put-on, languid air. “Why, got a little cabin fever, sweetheart?”

“Definitely not!” You replied hastily, “I can still barely manage to sit up! I was just curious-”

“I know you can hear them. I'm sorry.” He actually looked apologetic for a moment. “Whatever Soldats and Haulers that are left are so fucking old and they were braindead from the start, so I can't exactly ask them to be quieter.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize.”

Karl waved you off. “You're allowed to ask questions, don't sweat it.” He turned back to his work, but then swiveled to face you once more. “Do you…want to try to walk soon?” He offered, his tone flat once more, almost formal. “May help speed the healing process if you can…uh, move.”

“What would you recommend?” Karl snorted in response to your question, the man stalking over to your pallet and shifting the blanket off your legs. You shivered without meaning to as the chill air of your surroundings hit your legs and Heisenberg flinched, eyes darting to your own. “Oh, it's just a little cold.” You explained, trying for a smile. “I'll be fine!”

Karl stared down at his hands for a moment, then cupped them to heat them with his breath. “Let me know if they're still too cold.” He muttered, reaching for your left leg.

You subtly braced for his touch and you were stunned when his fingers were hot, your calf resting in one broad palm while his other hand ran up and down your shin.

“Let's bend your knee, alright?” Karl suggested after several seconds of silence. “Nice and slow.”

Your muscles ached when he began to move your leg, but you did your best to keep a straight face over it. It wouldn't do you any good to whine about this, you knew you were lucky to even have your severely-limited range of motion. Most of your bruises and lacerations had healed over, save for one long wound that had needed stitches on the outside of your left thigh.

“Alright?” Heisenberg asked, his voice rasping. You nodded, keeping your lips pressed together tightly. The lord exhaled, continuing to bend your knee slowly. “Good, good. Looks like your range of motion was maintained.” He then lowered your leg and unfortunately you couldn't stop the whimper when the action pulled at your stitches. Karl flinched again at the noise, glancing up at you. “Where?”

“Just the stitches, I'm fine.” You managed to say through your teeth. “Other leg?”

“If you need to-”

“Other leg?” You interrupted him, the pain making you eager to get this over with.

“You're not some fuckin’ machine, sweetheart.” Lord Heisenberg snapped, standing up. For a heart-stopping moment, you were unsure as to what he might do. It was an immense relief when he simply took a step over your pallet and crouched down on your right side. The man took a short eternity to warm your muscles up on that side, even making the effort to rotate your knee outward slightly to stretch your unmarred thigh. “Nice and slow,” he breathed, his touch impossibly gentle.

You had seen his ‘siblings’ tear people limb from limb, you knew just how much strength had to lurk in his body.

He killed the Lady, and…and Mother Miranda.

He had effectively ended whatever life you'd had before last year's solstice. Admittedly it wasn't much of a life, scurrying around trying to avoid incurring the Lady's wrath. It hadn't even been safe, but it was what you knew. It was frightening to not have any sort of routine.

This or that.

“Is there…” You swallowed, finding your mouth oddly dry. “Is there anything I can do to repay you for your kindness, Lord Heisenberg?” Karl stared up at you, his hand stilling on your shin. His expression was remarkably unguarded, almost childlike in its lack of guile. He was…surprised. You raised your eyebrows. “What? I know my skills may not be overly…impressive to someone like you, but I can set a table, cook and clean-”

“I don't have a table.” Karl interrupted bluntly. “And no one cleans this shithole.”

“Cooking, then?” You knew you sounded desperate, but his flat affect was rapidly siphoning off your vague hope of being useful to him.

Heisenberg raked a hand through his hair, looking more confused now. “What would you need to do that, exactly? I don't have…there's not a kitchen in here.” He said awkwardly. You abruptly recalled that none of the food brought for you had ever been warm, or even cooked. It had been apples, cheese, various nuts... “Might be able to wire you up some kind of hotplate?”

You paused, uncertain if you had just insulted him by reminding him of his lack of facilities. “What's a hotplate?”

“Really small stove. One pot, that sort of thing.”

“How do you cook if you don't have a stove?”

“I didn't need to cook.”

“Are you…do you only eat vegetables?”

His roaring laughter echoed off the walls, Karl wheezing for breath in between his bouts of mirth. “No, sweetheart, I ain't a vegetarian.” He finally choked out, still chuckling. “I've got a parasite in my body, just like the rest of those idiots. I can eat damn near anything, cooked or otherwise, as you've seen.” He made a grand, sweeping gesture to take in the moldering structure around you. “And I was too busy to cook while building my army.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” You apologized automatically, your brain stuck on one word. Parasite. Parasite. Parasite. He had what inside of him?! “Would you prefer to eat cooked food?”

He looked uncertain. “I mean–I never really thought about it. Easier to digest, I guess.” Karl suddenly narrowed his eyes. “Wait, no. You're not doing anything for me. I owe you my fucking freedom.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You.” Heisenberg jabbed a finger at you. “You helped me. For no reason at all! You defied your master, defied that overgrown bitch, for me.”

“W-Well, yes, but–”

“No buts.” Heisenberg snarled, seizing the bedding near your side. He stared at you intently. “You were terrified of her. She was a monster.”

“To me, yes.” You admitted softly. “I never knew her as anything else.”

The man warned, “but I'm also a monster,” his tone bleak. “A worse one than her, all things considered.”

“You have not been cruel to me.” Karl scoffed at that, rolling his eyes. You wondered if he even recalled the first time you had said that to him, insisting, “you haven't! And you've had ample opportunity to do so, I've been helpless in bed for days.”

“I'm not so much of a bastard that I would repay your kindness with violence.” Heisenberg seemed to be attempting some sort of levity, his head tilted to the side. “Besides, I worked pretty hard to stitch you back up. Be a shame for all that to go to waste.”

“I appreciate that.” You smiled up at him. “I should be able to cook for you in a few more days, once I'm steady on my feet.”

“You cook for you. If there's leftovers, fine,” Karl retorted. “But you don't work for me, got it? You can leave whenever you want.”

Distress sent a pang down your spine. “Do you wish for me to leave? I'm sorry, have I been imposi-”

“No,” Karl interjected sharply. “Christ, that's not what I'm saying. You're not in any position to move right now. I'm saying if you want to leave once you're ambulatory, I'm not keeping you here.”

You hesitated. This was all very confusing. “I'm sorry, I don't…I don't have anywhere else to go, Lord Heisenberg.”

“Then you can stay until you do.” He stomped back to the workbench, your conversation evidently over.

…

“Hotplate, hotplate…” Karl muttered to himself as he sifted through the loose scrap, thoroughly irritated. How hard could it be to make one, anyway? He recalled the enormous, wood-fed cooktop in House Dimitrescu's kitchen with more than a small amount of envy. That was a goddamn stove, with an oven.

He paused, mentally going over the makeup of said stove. Probably cast iron…I'd need to find a spot for the chimney. Not exactly like the big bitch has any need for her fancy stove now, right?

The idea of pilfering the giant stove from the wreckage of Castle Dimitrescu grew on him immediately, and soon enough Karl was making his way across the muddy grounds of the village.

The rest of the residents were still in disarray after the upheaval Heisenberg had inflicted, most of them seemingly expecting him to be the one to take the reins. Ha! No such luck, Heisenberg thought bitterly. Let Donna figure it out if they want a leader so damned bad. Her and her freaky doll.

As far as he was concerned, the village could rot with Alcina, Moreau and Miranda.

The castle still managed to loom even while half-destroyed, one lone parapet stretching to the sky was all that remained wholly intact. The rest of the structure had been decimated by Dimitrescu's transformation and their subsequent battle, the faux siblings so intent on destroying one another that not a care had been given to whether the castle came down around their ears in the process.

At least, not until after Karl had triumphed. Then he cared, the heavily-battered former lord retracing his steps through the rubble until he finally managed to locate your unconscious form. Through some miracle you had been sheltered from the majority of the destruction when a section of the chamber’s ceiling had broken loose and fallen onto the altar, shielding you from further harm. Moreau, unluckily (or perhaps luckily), was not graced with the same fate. If Alcina dropping him squarely on his head hadn't outright ended him, the simpering, sniveling little shit was crushed beneath the collapsed spiral staircase. And good riddance to him.

Heisenberg shook his head. There was no point in recalling that, he needed to find the damn stove.

…

“Oh.” You said weakly.

The large, cursive D emblazoned on the front of the hulking stove recalled to you several instances of being thrown around in the kitchen by an extremely-irate Lady Dimitrescu. Oblivious to your plight, Karl asked, “Where do you want it?”, the man hefting the massive appliance to rest on one shoulder. It was an impressive display of his strength, but also a grim reminder that whatever he was, it certainly wasn't human.

You swallowed hard. Heisenberg stood there for another moment. “My lord,” you began, your voice cracking. “Could I ask for a favor?”

“Anything. It's yours.”

Reeling from the speed and ease of his reply, you blurted out, “could you take the letter off the front of it?”

“Ah.” You watched as Karl's jaw suddenly went tight. “I saw that. On your back.” There was a sharp, metallic pang! and the front of the oven door was as smooth as glass. Perhaps it had been welded shoddily? “Better?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. He must have seen the marks from the stove's ornamentation while you were unconscious, you usually took great care to hide them.

“I can run the stove pipe essentially anywhere in here, but my forge tends to be hot as Hades when it's actually functional.” Heisenberg said evenly. “I also don't know whether the cold will affect you in the winter. I don't feel it.” He patted his abdomen absently with his free hand.

“Where would you recommend, then?”

Karl grunted, placing the stove down and then swearing under his breath when four of the six legs on it broke through the floor, leaving it to teeter unevenly. “Stupid goddamn--out of my floor.” He growled, gesturing with a hand. The range, much to your bewilderment, began to float a few inches off the beleaguered floor. “So it looks like I'll be reinforcing wherever I need to put this.”

“What are you doing?” You questioned sharply, eyes wide in confusion.

Karl, his back to you while he rummaged through a crumbling bookshelf, paused and glanced your way. “Looking for my factory blueprints so you can decide where the hell I'm putting this?”

“Not that, I mean the--” You made a few panicky noises, pointing at the hovering oven.

The man hesitated, tilting his head. “Are you…so you don't know.”

“Know what?”

“What the hell was in those fucking histories?” He grumbled, waving a hand at the huge hammer mounted on the wall over his workbench. “How do you think I killed Alcina?”

“I…” you hesitated. “I don't know. I thought maybe you knew of some kind of…weakness she had?”

The hammer came flying off its mount and Karl caught it with ease. “No.” He replied grimly, palming the massive weapon. “I put every piece of metal in that stupid castle through her body, pinned her to the ground and beat her to death.”

Oh. You stared up at him, the breath stolen out of your chest.

Lord Heisenberg shook himself bodily, then tossed the hammer back to its mount. “Sorry. It's uh…I guess it's not your fault for not knowing what I do.” He apologized, his voice strained. “Doesn't sound like you've had a stellar education when it comes to me.” He offered you a feeble smirk. “You did lend me a hand though, giving her the poke you did with the dagger.”

“I'm relatively certain she barely felt that.” You said, though as the hazy memory returned to you, you continued, “but she screamed when I did it.”

“That knife had so many toxins imbued into it, one wrong move during the solstice ritual and she might have offed herself instead.” Heisenberg's laugh was humorless. “Save me the damn trouble.” He tugged a small crate over next to your pallet, spreading the worm-eaten blueprint out on the surface. “Now, where do you want the stove?”

You got the feeling that he was trying to change the subject, but you obligingly shifted your weight forward to try and make sense of the warren you were presented with. “I'm also going to need cooking implements, like pots, pans…oh, and food of course!”

…

It wasn't such a bad life, you reasoned. Certainly better than how your life had been with the Lady Dimitrescu, though that bar wasn't exactly high. Lord Heisenberg was amicable enough, if a bit stiff and distant. You supposed that was to be expected. He was, after all, one of the lords of the village. Certain behaviors could not be adjusted so simply.

He only put his hands on you in a clinical manner, for which you were immensely grateful, and he had yet to shout at you, though he had the occasional frustrated outburst at his workbench. You would dare to say most days it was almost peaceful.

The afternoon you were shepherded from the bowels of his factory to emerge into the sunlight felt nearly surreal, like you had been sleepwalking, like your time serving House Dimitrescu had been nothing but a bad dream.

Castle Dimitrescu no longer overshadowed the village with its dour mass, instead sporting nothing but a forlorn tower teetering high above the rubble it had collapsed into. Seeing the destruction, even at this distance, was enough to stun you. You had assumed that Lord Heisenberg exaggerated a bit for your benefit, but looking at it now you weren't so sure.

Karl cleared his throat from his spot alongside you. “The Duke will be annoyed if I'm late.”

Between the strange and distinct personalities of the four lords (former or otherwise), one would assume that a simple merchant wouldn't stand out overmuch. An incorrect assumption, of course, but a common one.

For one, the Duke was enormous, his bulky and ponderous frame often ensconced in a small horse-drawn wagon. However, for all his mass he didn't seem to have any trouble actually getting around. If anything, he would set up shop in the strangest places.

The merchant sold items from beyond the village, and was always permitted to come and go as he pleased. Indeed, you imagined anyone would be hard-pressed to impose any sort of restrictions on the man, as his eternal joviality and good nature couldn't help but to heavily imply a fair amount of sway in the local economy. It would be unwise to dissuade such a man from returning to the village, you were fairly sure.

“What are you looking for in his inventory?” You queried, adjusting the padding for the crutch Lord Heisenberg had graciously crafted for you.

“Information about the outside, mainly.” The lord squared his shoulders, then set off in what seemed to be a random direction. You followed along behind, noticing that after a moment he slowed his pace, long strides shortening to accommodate your lacking speed. “May see what supplies he has, as well.” He mused. “It'll depend on his cooperation.”

“What do you ask him about…well, the outside world?” You had never devoted much thought to that world, bleakly certain in the knowledge that you would not be leaving the village in your lifetime. To be fair, you hardly had the time to think about anything outside of your duties for most of your life.

“Anything and everything. Hopefully he'll have a current newspaper he's willing to part with for the right price.” The two of you had been angling for a stand of spindly rowan trees just above the valley's edge. As you came up level with the rise, you realized their branches were doing a poor job at concealing the familiar cart of the Duke. The dark horse responsible for hauling said cart had been picketed off beneath the shade of a few more trees, grazing peacefully while you and Lord Heisenberg approached.

“Ah, and here is the man of the hour.” The Duke greeted Karl magnanimously from the bench of his cart, his eyes flicking curiously to you and then back to the Lord. “I see you’ve brought an…assistant. Quite capable too, all things considered.” The large man gave you an appraising look. “Regrettably, my dear, you may need more than a poisoned dagger to put me into the ground, but I appreciated the display all the same. Such a thrill!”

“Enough.” Karl snapped, his brows furrowed. “You know damn well I don't care about your omnipresent bullshit.”

“Come now, is that any way to speak to your old friend?” The Duke feigned hurt, pressing a hand to his broad chest. “My dear Lord Heisenberg, it has been a short eternity since last we did business!”

“I can come back later.” Karl's lips twitched. “I'd have you strung up if you weren't so goddamn helpful.”

The Duke's laughter washed over you and Lord Heisenberg finally cracked a smile. Evidently this was just how they spoke to one another? It all seemed a bit…chilling. “It is good to see you out of your cell, my lord.” The Duke said warmly, clasping Karl's hand in his own and pressing a worn packet of cheroots into his palm. “Your favorite brand, as I'm sure you recall.”

“Gods, how did you–nevermind, I don't want to know.” Karl tore open the packaging, quickly accepting the proffered light from the large merchant.

“And for you, my dear?” The Duke beckoned you closer while Karl worked to light his cigar. “Perhaps some food staples, or an exotic trinket from not-so-distant lands?”

“Oh, I don't have-”

“Give them whatever they want.” Heisenberg interrupted you, white smoke issuing from his mouth as he spoke. “Now's your chance, sweetheart, find something you wanna’ eat.” You gaped at him, stunned. For all his talk beforehand, clearly Karl wasn't as concerned about expedience as he had tried to imply beforehand. If anything, he looked a bit like a man about to settle in for a good jaw outside a general store.

The Duke was quite thrilled at the prospect of showing off his wares and you had a multitude of meats, cheeses and other staples slowly paraded in front of you as he carried on a conversation with Lord Heisenberg. The choices seemed nearly endless and while you knew Heisenberg had told you to get what you wanted, you also wanted to be mindful of whatever expense you might incur. Mutton would be the most cost effective of course, maybe followed with some sausage? The Duke did have flour and sugar as well, but those seemed in shorter supply. Evidently you'd need to adjust to a different diet if you hoped to get any sort of length out of the common staples.

“Any news on Donna?” Heisenberg queried nonchalantly as the Duke wrapped your chosen meats in waxed paper for transport.

“She's settled into her role with a fair amount of trepidation, but I am confident she will thrive. It remains to be seen whether the rest of the village will fall in line.” The Duke gave Karl a thoughtful look. “Are you certain you don't wish to…?”

“No. The place can burn for all I care.”

The Duke inclined his head, his contemplative gaze shifting to you once more. When next he spoke, however, he was still addressing Lord Heisenberg. “I don't suppose you'll be needing prophylactics, my lord?”

Heisenberg's overgrown canines abruptly crushed through the cigar, the stub of which he spat vaguely in the Duke's direction. This prompted the bulky merchant to roar with good-natured laughter, nearly toppling himself off the cart bench while Karl silently glowered at him.

After several uncomfortable seconds had passed, Karl finally stated, “We're leaving,” the lord seizing you by the arm and hoisting you up onto his shoulder, crutch, groceries and all. The Duke tossed a rolled-up newspaper to him as if in farewell, which Heisenberg easily caught and stuffed into his bag.

“May your chosen path bring you happiness.” The Duke called, blue eyes twinkling with some kind of secret joke. Heisenberg fished around in his satchel for a moment, finally withdrawing a messily-wrapped parcel. He proceeded to whip it at the Duke's head, which only made the large man laugh even harder.

Judging from Lord Heisenberg's reaction you weren't overly certain you wanted to know the punchline, even if you had no idea what a prophylactic was.

…

Karl spent the following few days slamming things around uselessly on his workbench or smelting at his forge, attempting to tire himself out before eventually coming back to rest and read his precious newspaper by the light of an electric lamp at his beleaguered bench.

Usually you were asleep by the time he returned from the manufacturing area, but you would always leave him a carefully-covered plate of food to enjoy. As your strength returned, you took to foraging in the surrounding area for berries, evidently willing to battle the local wildlife for a few precious morsels of vibrant fruit. Karl mutely appreciated the scraps you could acquire, the man so used to surviving off of a gray amalgamation that anything above it was a culinary delight. As much as he didn't want to give her any credit, clearly Alcina hadn't tolerated you being anything less than a decently-competent kitchen aide.

Tonight's dinner was a few slices of pork with some kind of fruit…sauce, accompanied by a small loaf of bread.

Karl absently chewed on a piece of the pork, his eyes roving to the partition that separated your (his originally, not that it mattered) sleeping area from the rest of the room. You must sleep like the dead, because nothing ever seemed to rouse you once you tucked yourself in for the night. It's either that or you were still weaker than he had anticipated, and just doing a little scavenging and cooking wore you out entirely.

Karl grimaced, tearing off a bit of the roll and popping it into his mouth. To be fair (and honest) he had never given human recovery time much thought. Your appendages were attached, extremities operational…you had higher brain function, for God's sake.

It had never mattered.

Karl shook his head, disgusted. It wasn't something he had ever concerned himself with before, he would be damned if he started now.

Damned regardless, really.

He shuffled his stool back a step from his bench, reaching into the scrap bucket for a large rag. Despite the area's somewhat-lacking agricultural endeavors, it seemed that there was still a budding market for wagon kingpins and singletrees. Karl had never fancied himself much of a wainwright, but pieces were easy to make and he trusted the Duke to put them into the right hands. To supplement the more specialized pieces, the lord would also make groups of five or so hammers, maybe screwdrivers or wrenches. The old witch's mold tore through most materials, but Karl always ensured that his tools were heated to a temperature so vicious that not even the Black God’s ingrained spores could survive.

After he had wrapped the quintet of screwdrivers and kingpins, he carefully set them aside and picked up a fresh rag.

Motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and the lord lashed out, iron fingers seizing hold of an arm. You gasped, losing your grip on his dirty plate. The item struck the side of the bench with a resounding crash!, sending shards of ceramic tumbling to the floor.

Karl hesitated, desperately trying to will his hand to release your arm before he bruised you (or snapped your arm off at the elbow). He was just so used to-

“I apologize for startling you, my lord.” Your voice wavered slightly, but other than that you seemed remarkably calm. Alcina. “I was unable to sleep, I…I wanted to make myself useful.”

Finally, Heisenberg managed to peel his fingers off your arm, the muscles in his hand spasming wildly. “Of course.” He murmured blithely, like his reaction had been the most normal thing in the world. “Thanks for that, sweetheart.”

The side of his mouth ticked up slightly when you sputtered something and began to look flustered. He really ought to get this…whatever it was under control. It wasn't practical for him to be constantly bemused by every little turn of your expression. Soon enough that would lead to him just–doing things to watch how you behaved, doing specific things that he knew would give the reaction he wanted. As intriguing as that sounded, the lord could feel his mood souring.

“Get some rest.” He ordered you, his tone curt. “I'll clean that up.”

“I–yes, Lord Heisenberg.” You acquiesced even though you clearly didn't want to, your eyes glued to the floor.

Heisenberg's brow furrowed. Christ, he did not like this feeling, whatever the hell it was.

…

“My dear! I see you've been allowed to roam the countryside today. Could I tempt you with a crystal figurine?”

You shook your head, smiling up at the Duke. “No sir, I was wondering if you had any more lamp wicks, or perhaps some twine.” You rummaged around in the satchel Heisenberg had generously allowed you to borrow for your errands, searching for the list he had scrawled in a messy hand. “My lord has requested another current newspaper. And...” You paused, squinting at the letters. “Cam…camembert cheese?”

“Always work with that man!” The Duke complained good-naturedly, “I understand, business is business, but even so. He's moving nearly quick enough to outpace my sales! Clearly he cares nothing for artificial scarcity or supply and demand.” The look he gave you made it seem like you were supposed to agree, so you gamely nodded. Truthfully you had no idea what he was talking about, but that was a common occurrence in the life you had led. The Lady always spoke of grand plans, her machinations seeming leaps and bounds above your comprehension.

All that being said, you were a bit curious, attempting to slyly broach the subject moments later while the Duke tied a fresh layer of cheesecloth securely around a somewhat-battered wheel of cheese. “Lord Heisenberg has personal dealings with you, then? I imagine they must be much more important than what he sends me to do.” Had you been more familiar with the corpulent merchant, you might have picked up on the mischievous little snort he let out.

“Our dear lord is the only one keeping the village running, my child.” The man chuckled, giving the wheel one final pat and then passing it to you. “What on earth do you think he's been up to in that factory? He is manufacturing.”

Midway through depositing the cheese into your satchel, his words caught up with you. You paused, furrowing your brow as you attempted to recall what you had seen Lord Heisenberg working on. “He's absent by the time I wake up, and most evenings I'm already asleep when he returns.” You realized aloud.

“Ah.” The Duke leaned back, folding his hands over his generous stomach. “So you don't know, then. The Lord Heisenberg is working, you see, always working. The Iron Horse, tireless and unfeeling, unaffected by his lengthy imprisonment.” He arched a conspiratorial brow. “Or so he would have us all believe.”

You suddenly felt as though you had overstepped, your fingers nervously gripping down on the threadbare strap of the satchel while you bid the Duke a hasty farewell.

The merchant inclined his head graciously, offering you a slow smile.

…

“‘I went into town today, saw some people with familiar tools’.” You shook your head at yourself, staring down at the soup on the stovetop. “He wouldn't believe that! I should just be honest. The Lady said to be honest-”

“You don't work for that Amazonian bitch anymore.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, whirling to face Lord Heisenberg. “My lord! Forgive me, I didn't hear you approach.”

Karl grunted, reaching for your shoulder. You barely resisted the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever might come.

The strap of your large apron had slid down your shoulder, and Karl's fingers brushed your shirt when he tugged the fabric back up. “I don't care if you're honest to me or not.” His voice was low and harsh. “Honesty born of fear isn't something I'm interested in.”

“O-Of course, my lord.” You quickly agreed, looking everywhere but his face as you attempted to change the subject. “Are you hungry? You've returned early tonight!”

There was a long pause. “...I think so.” Heisenberg sounded slightly baffled (if such a person could ever be baffled). “It smelled good, so I clocked out early.”

You replied brightly, “I'm glad you think so! It's not quite done yet, but the biscuits are r–” The pan of biscuits that had been cooling on the stovetop was suddenly in Karl's hand. The lord jammed an entire biscuit into his mouth and you blinked, stunned.

“Did you get the cheese?” Karl asked once he'd swallowed, his eyes lighting up when you nodded. “Duke's good for something, I guess. Paper?”

“On your bench, as always.”

For that, you received a clap on the shoulder and a devastating smile, the man happily taking himself (and the tray of biscuits) to the workbench.

You had never seen him in such good spirits. It was…entrancing, in a way. You stirred the soup absently, thoughts in a tangle.

…

Truth be told, you ought to have been an expert at balancing a bowl. To your credit, however, the last time you'd had to do it your path had at least been illuminated and free of debris. Now you had the added excitement of toting an old railway lantern in one hand and cradling the bowl in the crook of your elbow.

You had been so sure of yourself earlier in the day! If Lord Heisenberg doesn't come back for supper before I go to bed, I'll bring him his supper at the forge. It had seemed like an intelligent idea; clearly if he was working late he was busy, and he would need to keep up that pace, which a hearty dinner of leftover soup would help with! You had even made another small batch of biscuits.

The only problem with this plan was, well, you had no true knowledge of where the forge was. Oh certainly you had an idea, and there seemed to be an increase in heat along your chosen path, which was heartening. You carefully picked your way along, mainly keeping your gaze trained downward to prevent you from tripping or stepping on something a bit sharper than your boot’s old sole could manage.

A warbling groan immediately tore your attention upwards and you desperately tried to steady the lantern without burning yourself on the hot globe. What is-?

You had never seen a Soldat in the light before, or as much light as this. It was human-shaped but it did not look…correct. You knew you made a noise, some startled sound, and the thing turned.

Lord Heisenberg had never precisely explained the process of creating his Soldats and the stories you had heard never went into much detail, only mentioning how fragile they were and how easily House Dimitrescu had overwhelmed them.

A motor thrummed, sputtering to life, and as the Soldat faced you you realized why it hadn't looked correct. Its left arm had been replaced by the bulk of some monstrous machinery that was crowned with a sluggishly-spinning drill. Its right arm was just a stump, pale flesh hanging from the remainder of the joint.

You hesitated, unsure of the thing's comprehension and whether it knew you as friend or foe. The lycans were unpredictable, you didn't see why this would be any different. “H-Hello,” You called nervously, struggling to be heard over the drill (which seemed to be gaining speed). “I'm here to bring the lord his dinner, if that's alright?” Of course, there was no reply.

It took a heavy step towards you. Then another, and another. The drill began whining at a high pitch, and you took an instinctive step backwards.

The Soldat broke into a clumsy, loping run, drill reeling back for some sort of blow. You turned and bolted, fleeing the way you'd come. Desperately you tried to remember the path you'd taken in reverse, hoping against hope that you'd be able to outrun the thing. Twisting, turning, stumbling over things in your path-

Out of the nearly pitch-black darkness ahead, you heard Lord Heisenberg's voice calling, “Sweetheart? Where are you?”

You screamed something as a section of rotted flooring gave way beneath your foot, swallowing your leg up to the shin and sending you tumbling to the ground. The lantern flew out of your hand, globe smashing and the last of the meager fuel going up in a rapid flare of light. That flare illuminated the hallway ahead, reflecting off of Karl's eyes like he was…

Well, you had known he wasn't exactly human. Not that now was the time to be dwelling on such thoughts! You rolled over, desperately fighting with the jagged wood that trapped your leg, and you tried not to think of the amount of times you'd butchered animals for dinner and the way their joints snapped under a little pressure–

A red glow heralded the Soldat's approach and you struggled harder. Karl barked, “hey! That's close enough, freak!”, but it was as if the Soldat didn't register he was speaking to it. Maybe this one didn't have ears? “I said-” A large boot hit the floor beside your ribs, Heisenberg's body overhead lit by that hellish red light. “-that's close enough!” The Soldat's drill began to grind and shriek as it came down, like it was being forced to spin in the wrong direction. You didn't even have the wherewithal to scream, your whole being dedicated to freeing your leg.

There was a sharp grunt of exertion. A hand slapped against your elbow momentarily before fingers crushed down in a chokehold on your upper arm. Fasteners erupted from the floorboards around your leg and as they did, you finally managed to wrench yourself loose. When Karl heaved you backwards out of harm's way you caught only a momentary glimpse of his free hand bracing that terrible drill, the skin of his palm mangled by the still-spiraling machinery.

Once the lord released you, you scrambled away on the floor until your back hit a wall. The Soldat issued a garbled yell and Heisenberg roared in reply, ripping the drill off its shoulder. Nuts and washers clattered to the floor, hydraulic fluid coming in arterial spurts while the Soldat clumsily flailed at its maker.

Half-blind in the dark, all you could do was stare as Karl tore the Soldat limb from limb. When it inevitably toppled to the ground it could barely be considered a torso, that red light on its chest flickering weakly and starting to slowly fade. You shut your eyes tightly, aware that Heisenberg was speaking but your ears were ringing too badly to hear him. You felt nauseous and lightheaded, the floor seeming to buckle and spin beneath your trembling body.

…

You would have been fine, if the damn floor had held. You would have outpaced that old junker in a flash. You wouldn't have even been in any danger!

Karl crouched beside you, barely resisting the urge to grab your chin and force you to look at him. “What the hell were you thinking?” He asked incredulously, but it was as if you couldn't hear him. The man huffed in irritation, getting back to his feet and walking to the hole in the floor to inspect the damage. His boot landed on a domed object, startling the lord somewhat as he'd assumed he knew every piece of junk on the floor between here and his forge. He bent to inspect the object and he realized it was a bowl, christened with the splattered remains of leftover soup. Beside it were several sad and dirty biscuits, their plate having overturned and skidded along the grime of the floor.

Food.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry my Lady, I'm so sorry, please, please, I'm sorry-” Your voice was pitifully quiet. You'd put your hands over your ears and you were rocking, pleading, begging some specter of his faux sibling for mercy. Karl felt his heart sink and he realized in a sudden burst of uncharacteristic clarity that he hadn't been angry.

He had been afraid.

Afraid of what might happen to you.

Gods.

“It's alright.” He breathed, settling to the floor in front of you. He nearly reached out to touch you, but hesitated when he caught sight of his bloodied fingers, forcing his mangled hand into a fist at his side instead. “It's alright. It's just me.”

You sobbed hysterically and Heisenberg wasn't sure for a second whether you'd even heard him, then you flung your arms around his neck, clinging to him and crying into his shoulder. Karl froze, stunned. No one had ever…

Well. It didn't matter.

“I've got you.” The man said gruffly, resting his intact hand gingerly on the top of your head. “You…you're safe.”

It felt like you just crumpled against his chest. Like every ounce of fight in your body had departed, leaving you limp and frail in his arms. All Karl could do was gather you up, the man rising to his feet after a moment of fumbling. It seemed as though you had lost consciousness, your arm dropping to hang and your head lolling back in the crook of his elbow.

I've got you.

…

You started awake, unsure for a moment where you were, what time it was…what had happened to you?

From his place at his workbench, Karl cleared his throat. There was a snap as he folded his newspaper, then tucked it beneath his arm as he stood. The former lord approached your bedside and you couldn't help the way you shrank down into yourself, barely fighting the urge to hide beneath the covers.

Heisenberg stopped further away than normal, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “How do you feel?” A mild enough question, given the circumstances.

Honesty. “My leg hurts a little,” was your truthful response. “But I suppose it serves me right. I shouldn't have-”

Karl cut you off by clearing his throat, the man fixing you with a stern look. “In the future, if you get any ideas about bringin’ me dinner, just yell for me. It'll save both of us a lot of trouble.”

Shame sent a hot flush out across your cheeks and you nodded, hoping that was the end of your discussion.

“You could have been seriously injured. I know you probably don't grasp that, but I sure as hell do. I've seen what my Soldats were designed for.” Lord Heisenberg's expression had gone grim. “It ain't your fault. I'll start decommissioning them.”

“Oh, but don't you need them?” You burst out, concerned for the inhabitants of the village that you had only recently found out relied on Karl's craftsmanship to thrive.

The lord shrugged elegantly in reply, stating, “Before, I needed them to help because of the scale of the operation. Now though…I think I can afford to cut back on a few dozen units.” He sighed, momentarily looking exhausted. “A lot of them just wander anyway, it's not as though they're vital.”

A thought struck you and you exclaimed, “my Lord, your hand! I…” Karl tugged both of his hands out of his pockets to display them to you, raising an eyebrow. They seemed wholly intact, not so much as a crooked finger! How-?

“I heal quick.” He informed you with a flippant rotation of his wrist.

“It was a drill, I saw it rip--h-how did-?” You were nonplussed by the whole thing. Were you so damaged by your previous trials that you had begun to imagine travesties occurring?!

Karl, however, raised an excellent point. “How many times did you wipe the blood from my back and you're worried about some fuckin’ drill yanking off my pinkie? Did you forget that I was Alcina's favorite vintage?”

“No, but-” You struggled with your words for a moment. “I just…I apologize. I did not fully comprehend the extent of your...talents.”

“Suppose that's for the best.” Karl muttered, seemingly half to himself. He abruptly clapped his hands together, giving you a stern look. “I expect you to stay put until you fully recover, understand?”

…

Karl yelled some random assortment of expletives, the latest collection of tools rocketing at the Duke. “-nearly killed! I nearly got them killed! What the fuck was I thinking?”

The Duke, having caught the bundle with ease, began sorting the tools out on his lap while Heisenberg continued to seethe and stomp around the cart. “You seem vexed, my lord. Has something occurred?” The merchant asked blandly.

Karl shot a blistering glare up at the enormous man. “If you don't stop laughing at me-”

The Duke raised his hands in a peaceable manner. “I meant no offense, my lord! You are simply entertaining when you are so…undone.”

“Keep your commentary to yourself,” the lord growled, “this is all your fault anyway!”

The merchant had the audacity to look surprised. “My fault, my lord? I fail to see the connection.”

“It's all because you had to make your little jab, you piece of shit! If you hadn't said anything, I wouldn't have thought about it!” Even as the words left his mouth, Karl knew he was lying.

Long before the Duke had cracked wise about prophylactics the incarcerated lord had harbored certain thoughts about you. Granted, at first they were nothing but insane fantasies. He wasn't getting free, what was the harm? He couldn't exactly gratify himself either, bound as he had been. There was little he could do aside from think, and Gods had he thought.

And then you had released him.

“Ah.” Heisenberg had no idea how one simple noise could sound so unbelievably smug, but he supposed if there was anyone who could manage it, it would have to be the Duke. He debated the benefits of ripping the man's head off for longer than he would care to admit, before he just slouched against one of the cart’s wheels in defeat. The Duke chuckled quietly, his girth shifting enough to make the axle creak. “I can see you are having some trouble, my lord.”

“I really ought to kill you.” Karl muttered without any real bite behind the words, dragging his hands down his face. He had spent the better part of a week tracking down every Soldat left and disassembling them, throwing the spare parts where he had amassed the bits from the Haulers. It had been an involved and tedious process, but he could always make more if the need arose again. He also made sure you watched him take apart multiple Soldats, doing his best to involve you in several related tasks so they weren't so…so much to you. You originally had shied away, but closer to the final one you displayed some tender curiosity, some minor touch of interest in his old servants. “I don't know what the hell to do.”

The Duke made a thoughtful noise, stroking his chin. “My honest opinion is that I believe you overcomplicate things.” Karl scoffed but the larger man persisted, “they have a good heart! I don't understand your resistance, I'm afraid.”

“Alcina once had me convinced that I was doing things for the right reason.” Heisenberg rested his forehead on the side of the cart. “I believed her. Trusted her.”

“Your…assistant doesn't strike me as the scheming type, my lord.” The Duke paused, then continued, “and in regards to your behavior, you are not the Lady Dimitrescu, nor are you her thrall any longer.”

“The debt I owe is extensive and I don't know how to repay them.” It was so simple to say, but it made Karl's skin crawl. All he had ever been good for was furthering someone else's ambitions. What could he do for you? You didn't exactly harbor any great expectations; you seemed wholly content to tend the fire and cook meals for the rest of your days.

Something brushed against his leg and a familiar, grating voice said, “well, don't you look like death warmed over!”

Karl punted Angie as hard as he could, unable to keep his laughter in check while the doll tumbled end over end through the air. She finally crashed to the dirt and Donna scurried by, the veiled woman gathering her beloved doll up into her arms.

“What's the big idea?!” Angie shrieked at Karl, moving like she was going to free herself from Donna's grasp. “Is that any way to treat me, after all we've been through together?”

“You?” Karl's good humor swiftly turned foul, the man striding towards Donna with his fists clenched at his sides. “You, little rat, were the one who sold us out to Alcina! If it wasn't for you-!” Heisenberg paused, inhaling through his teeth. Donna seemed…smaller. Not that she had ever been particularly sturdy, but now she appeared like a strong gust of wind would knock her over. “You look like shit.” He said instead, grudgingly reining himself in.

Donna inclined her head. “I am. Not a leader.” She whispered, her words stilted. “It is difficult.”

“I could have told you that.” Heisenberg tugged free a cigar, the man lighting it after a moment. Meanwhile Donna just…stood there. As if she was waiting for something. “What the hell do you want, Beneviento?” Karl growled around the cigar, barely fighting the urge to rudely blow smoke in her face. “No mind games, either. Come out and say it or fuck off.”

“I can't–" Donna paused, and Angie continued in a whining tone, “it's hard, and we don't want to!”

The former lord gestured at the treeline, offering his faux sibling a joyless grin. “So leave. I'm sure there's a million other places that would happily accept a freak like you.”

“Or you!” Angie shot back tartly.

Karl chuckled without humor around the cigar, nodding. “Yeah, ‘or me’.”

“You look better.” Donna whispered.

“I've been eatin’ right, getting in my exercise.” It wasn't technically a lie; your cooking was much more rounded than he'd ever eaten in his life. “Not exactly difficult to look better than I did while I was withering in the giant bitch's cellar.”

“I'm sor-”

“Don't.”

Donna inclined her head, dutifully falling silent while Angie snickered to herself. Heisenberg barely kept from biting his cigar in half, the man painstakingly removing the cheroot from his mouth before he did something he'd regret.

The Duke then spoke up, “I believe Lady Beneviento had a proposition for you.” Karl nearly jumped at the sound of the large man's voice; he'd practically forgotten he was even there, witnessing this little spat.

Tucking his cigar back into his mouth, Heisenberg puffed a few times to ensure the thing was still lit and leaned back against the cart wheel, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. “Talk, Donna.”

“I need equipment.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

The woman hesitated, obviously struggling to articulate herself. “I…the people need. Farming equipment. A-A tractor.”

Ah. “One?”

“Two would be b-better. One is…acceptable.” Donna paused again. “The cornfields-”

“-got real messed up when you fought with Alcie!” Angie finished, the doll's jaw clattering a bit. “Plus you ruined half the vineyards!”

“I'm not talkin’ to you, you little shit.” Karl grunted, making Angie sputter. “Unless you want to fly again, I suggest you stay out of this.”

“Leave Angie alone.” Lady Beneviento's tone was abruptly icy and firm. “We are having a discussion, Heisenberg.”

Karl dutifully obeyed, ignoring the doll to focus wholly on his faux sister. “Do you even have an old tractor? Scrap? Blueprints? Something, woman, I can't fabricate a tractor out of nothing.”

Beneviento produced a small, rolled piece of paper from her sleeve, handing it over to the glowering man. She then clasped her hands in front of her nervously. “We have two…two tractors. Very rusted.” She warned.

“Probably more like moldy.” Karl mumbled, only half-listening as he looked over the smudged manual page. “I'll need to see what you have for a carcass.” He finally said grudgingly.

“Ha! I knew it, I knew he would-!” Donna swiftly scooped Angie up, muffling the doll's mouth with an artfully-placed section of her black veil. The woman then offered Karl a deep bow, after which she beat a hasty retreat back down the hill while Angie continued to squall around her makeshift gag.

The Duke snorted, obviously attempting to stifle a laugh, which set off Karl’s own mirth.

…

“Hold it–hold it steady, dammit.”

Obligingly you adjusted your posture with the lantern, your hands too sweaty in their protective mitts to maintain the lamp's position for long. Late summer had truly set in to the valley and you were hard-pressed to find a moment where you weren't sweaty.

Heisenberg had begun repairs on an old tractor in earnest shortly after his unexpected conference with his ‘sister’, but the working conditions weren't exactly ideal. It was either labor in the shade of the moldering, poorly-lit barn, or work in the farm yard and be wholly at the mercy of the eager sun.

The man grumbled something under his breath, the majority of his upper body currently beneath the engine as he wrestled with some unseen bolt. There was a loud thud and he began swearing in a continuous stream, shuffling out from under the machine while shaking his hand. “Rat bastard, son of a bitch,” Karl huffed, examining his quickly-reddening knuckles. “Jammed that good. Dammit.”

“Can I…?” You offered hesitantly, not really sure what he needed but willing to give it a try regardless.

The man blew out a breath. “Yeah, damn it all. You've got smaller hands than me, maybe you can get them into where it needs to go.” He then held out one of the many rags he kept nearby, muttering, “cover your head though, you don't want to get greasy.”

Once you'd extinguished the lantern and removed your mitts, you obliged Heisenberg and carefully wound the rag around your head, making certain to pull it low on your forehead after noting the grease smeared on his own. Then, you laid down on your back and tugged yourself beneath the rickety machine alongside Karl.

A small rubber tube was shoved into your hand, and the man gestured up at the arcane workings of the small engine. “This stupid little thing needs to go up there. In between–look, see that slot sweetheart? It needs to be fed through there so that it can be plugged in up above.”

“Why didn't you feed it down from the top instead?” It was an innocent question, you hadn't meant anything by it! But the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the noise of Heisenberg's teeth grinding together.

Karl snatched the tube back and scuttled out from beneath the machine. You heard scraping for a moment, and then a triumphant “aha! Can you grab the other end of it now, sweetheart? Just hold it for me.”

You managed to slip your fingers into where he had indicated, just barely grasping the end of the tube and tugging it a bit further. “Got it!”

“Finally, alright.” Karl threw himself down once more, using the front axle to maneuver into position alongside you. “We need to take that and plug it-” His hand closed down on your own without warning, startling you to the point that you went stiff. Heisenberg clearly noticed; he stilled for a second but then immediately carried on, “-place it here, see?” He guided your hand to hold the hose to its appropriate inlet. “Then, we screw down the clamp to keep the hose attached.”

“Oh.” You murmured, watching him twitch his finger and the fastener on the clamp rushed to respond, twisting itself tight to secure the tube. “How would you do it if you didn't have…if you were like me?”

Karl looked at you sideways for a moment before it seemed to dawn on him, the man tapping a finger down on the screw. “Flathead screwdriver, see the groove? Pop the driver head in there and give it a twist.”

“Thank you.”

He scoffed, “‘course,” rolling out from beneath the machine and offering you a hand up. “Job isn't done yet, grab the lantern again.” He barked, “gloves!” when you almost touched the scorching handle of the lantern in your haste to obey his directive.

…

“Are you ready?”

Your head swam. Ready for what?

“I'm not moving otherwise.”

Moving?

Somehow you were beneath the tractor again. Had you fallen? Karl's forehead bumped against your own, his body crowding yours in the small space. His eyes–

He was back in the cell, but he was no longer restrained. The lord lunged at you, groping, fondling, touching–

No, you were in his workshop, machinery crashing to the floor so Karl could press your back to the workbench, the large man burying his face in your neck and–

You started awake, intensely aware of the slick sensation between your upper thighs and the heated flush on your face. Blinking in the dim room, you struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

What was that?! You thought in a panic, frantically fanning your face to try and cool off. You had rarely ever dreamt, and you'd certainly never had a dream like that!

You jerked your eyes up, darting a glance at the workbench, but it was mercifully vacant. Lord Heisenberg must be elsewhere.

Lord Heisenberg.

That's right. Lord Heisenberg. Not Karl, not someone you were close to, regardless of how kind he was to you. Your place was beneath him, and it always would be.

No matter what pretty words he had said.

You helped me.

You can leave whenever you want.

You shook your head, frustrated and embarrassed. Maybe this…infatuation was to be expected, you had tended to the lord for quite a while. You understood his needs to an extent, you cared for him, but you may not necessarily care about him. It was to be expected that the waters might get muddied, the lines between servant and more blurred by the passage of time and the familiarity that came with it.

I hope.

Part Three

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