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concussed-to-pieces · 1 month ago

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Arbiter's Solstice; Part One

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: There was a soft, liquid sound that you had grown to recognize as him running his tongue over his teeth, but the former lord offered no true reply to your impudent question. Instead, he remarked, almost idly, “do you know what happened to Miranda?”

A/N: I yield, I yield. Had to chop this up into a few parts and start posting them, otherwise I never would have gotten it finished. Welcome to an AU of extreme proportions, featuring multiple of my most favorite tropes in media. 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 @nerdygirlgamer1972 @problemdawgz

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

[DISCLAIMER: The last Resident Evil I played was Resident Evil 1. I have not played Resident Evil Village. I have, as ever, extensively dug into the wiki and other available resources, yet I know I am by no means an expert on the subject matter. I ask only for leniency and your charity in this endeavor, as well as forgiveness for any out of character moments or glaring mistakes. Thank you so much for your interest!]

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

When the elderly Mother Miranda had passed due to an extremely harsh Winter, the Lords had fallen briefly to infighting before partially uniting under the bloody banner of Dimitrescu, much to the dismay of House Heisenberg. There upon the bleak fields of the Heisenberg estate two nightmarish armies had met in a final clash, and the Soldats of Lord Heisenberg succumbed.

For his crimes of attempted usurpery, treachery and deceit, Lord Heisenberg was stripped of his lands and title and confined to the dungeons of Castle Dimitrescu, where he was drained of his previous strength by blood wards and terrible magics. Every year on the solstice since then, a new servant was chosen to attend to him, both a great honor and a devastating burden.

It had always been this or that, and you found that you could endure this.

…

Into a life of servitude you had been pressed at a very young age. Cleaning the floors, setting the table, trimming candle wicks. Once you grew strong enough it turned to bringing buckets of water in from the well for the kitchen or slopping the pigs, oiling the tack and saddles and mucking out the stables.

It had always been either this or that, and while you had survived this long, you knew you hadn't the strength to endure much more of the mistreatment at the hands of Lady Alcina and her…lovely daughters.

Then, you were Chosen. A great honor, so they said, reserved for only a select few. You were, of course, not released from your usual tasks. This was just one more thing for you to manage.

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse.

You knew the prisoner had been all those things and more, for all that he was incapacitated now. Indeed, the former Lord Karl Heisenberg seemed to linger in a dreamlike half-conscious state, so devoid of the purported verve and brimstone of his past. All that remained of that man he had been (from what you had heard, anyway) was the way he bolted his food from the proffered tray like a hungry vârcolac, hardly pausing to breathe, his unkempt facial hair often matted with the gruel-ridden remains of his meals. Food was the only thing to rouse him from his doldrums, and so it was food that was brought to him.

Every week since you had been picked to become Heisenberg's handmaiden you made the slow, trembling descent to the cell he had been bound to, a flimsy wooden tray in your hands. But it was either this or that, and you could endure bringing gruel-slop to an incapacitated prisoner, the occasional attempts to clean food off his face or blood from his back. At the very least, it kept you out of sight of the other lords for a few extra moments. It was technically safer. Technically.

Until the day when Heisenberg raised his head to look at you.

…

You nearly leaped out of your skin, startled to the point where you dropped the tray. It hit the floor with a loud bang and you crouched for a moment, curling into yourself defensively.

There was a loud snort and you heard the creaking of the ropes that bound him, but you didn't dare to look up. You began fumbling to get the bowl back onto the tray, grateful that it hadn't spilled much. The Lady was more than content to give Heisenberg nothing but the dregs of the kitchen, and sometimes not even that–

You felt hot breath huff out over your head and your hands clenched on the tray. He must have lowered his head again, adjusted himself somehow. A sharp nose nudged the crown of your head and there was a rattling inhale.

“F-Forgive me, my lord.” You stared down at the tray, internally panicking as you watched the bowl begin to quiver due to your nervous shaking. “I did not mean to disturb you.” Truthfully, you had bumped his upper arm with the tray when you stumbled on the uneven, crumbling floor, but he had actually responded to the touch, his head snapping up with alarming speed. Normally the only thing that would get him to move was the bowl placed beneath his nose.

You raised the tray so that he could eat (operating mainly off of muscle memory), and you were horrified when you accidentally caught Lord Heisenberg's gaze through his hair. His eyes felt like they were burning you alive, the intensity of that half-lidded chartreuse stare making you want to flee. Blessedly it was only for the scantest of moments that he studied you, the former lord soon returning to his meal with the dispassionate attitude of a large predator ignoring prey not worth their time. You averted your own gaze, uncertain of the punishment that could be exacted for making eye contact with the Iron Horse.

Heisenberg slurped at the bowl, the meager contents of which began to trickle down his chin and into his wiry, unkempt beard. Once more operating out of habit, you reached forward with a corner of your apron. You often wiped his mouth after he was finished eating, otherwise whatever he ate would mat into the disarray of facial hair he sported. Today however, the former lord’s tongue made quick work of the dribbles before you could even reach them.

His nose grazed your outstretched hand. “Th--ank…you.”

You knew your sudden gasp was rude, but you had also never been thanked once in your life. Servitude was expected, anticipated, demanded of you, why would anyone ever…

It had sounded like it was difficult for him to speak. He had never spoken before, you didn’t even know he could! You needed to respond, you had to say something. You finally managed to whisper, “y-you're welcome, Lord Heisenberg,” your grip tightening on the tray handles.

“Everyone else…” Another long, eternally long pause. It was so long, you wondered whether he had gone back to sleep. “...fears me. Hates me.” Those green eyes met yours once more, and you could have sworn there was the faintest gleam of curiosity. “Not you?”

Your swallow was too loud. You cringed on reflex, frantically trying to think of a response. It was true, most of the other villagers spoke poorly of the former lord. Some would even go so far as to spit when they mentioned him, and the Lady certainly harbored no great love for him. Honesty, you decided, the Lady would want me to be honest.

“You are a prisoner and…and you have not been cruel to me.” Your voice trembled slightly. “I see no reason to be cruel to you.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and your stomach lurched terribly when you noticed, for he was smiling. “Oh, but I can be. You have no idea the cruelty I'm capable of.” The rasp of his voice lent a horrendous sense of surety to his words; you did not doubt that someone who was a sort of sibling to the other lords could be extremely cruel.

There was another agonizingly long pause. Your breath came quick and sharp. He seemed to be waiting for something from you, much as you didn't want to continue the unnerving conversation. “W-Well, you haven't been,” you managed to repeat weakly, praying that you wouldn't be punished for your blunt observation.

Heisenberg grunted, shifting his weight slightly. After a moment you heard his breathing even out. He had drifted back to slumber, then, or whatever his kind considered as such. You allowed a sigh of relief to escape you, then scurried out of the cell.

…

It was a week later that you made your way back into the dungeons, the tray bearing the usual bowl with various refuse from the week's meals and, safely hidden in your apron pocket, a few precious pieces of venison from dinner's herb-studded pot roast. It had smelled delicious while it was cooking; even now, hours later, your empty stomach twinged with hunger at the memory of the scent.

Being a humble servant you were, of course, not permitted to eat at the Lady’s table, instead subsisting off of much of the same scraps that Lord Heisenberg did. However, you could at least take your items from plates left behind on the table, instead of the kitchen’s slop bucket for the pigs. While they didn't exactly eat, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters often pantomimed at dining, which led to half-mangled leftovers that you could safely manage to survive off of. The Lady Beneviento and Lord Moreau were the only ones who truly ate at mealtimes, though Lady Beneviento would often painstakingly cut her dinner into tiny bites to feed her strange doll for most of the meal.

When you went to feed Lord Heisenberg, the Lady Dimitrescu would stand over you as you poured the slurry from the bucket into a bowl, watching like a hawk to ensure her ‘dear brother’ wasn't ‘getting more than his due’. It was the most nerve-wracking part of your chores. Too little and she would scold you, “do you want Heisenberg to perish?”, but too much led to you being pitched across the room while the tall woman raged wildly overhead. There was no consistency either; some days you were barely permitted to cover the bottom of the bowl, while others had the bowl overflowing with the foul mixture. You supposed it was all down to the whims of the Lady, nothing more complex than that.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, frowning when you touched a tender spot. For all his simpering, Lord Moreau bore the burden of an explosive temper, the Piscean lord having lashed out at you earlier over a soup that was ostensibly too thick. Perhaps the temper was a family trait? Regardless, you were lucky that you had survived his outburst with nothing but some bruising. You knew many villagers had been torn limb from limb by the troubled lord, so you did your best to avoid garnering his attention for good or ill.

The cell (which was more of an enclosure really, a holding pen made of some sturdy, nearly-black wood) was damp, cold year-round and rarely frequented by the odd stray rat or crow. It wasn't exactly a sealed or watertight environment; the stone walls and stairs were coated with slimy moss and tiny trickles of water from the reservoir. But something about the area seemed to make most ordinary creatures give it a wide berth. Perhaps it was a combination of the smell of blood and the wards carved into that strange wood? You tried not to dwell on the subject, finding that the longer you thought about it, the more your skin crawled.

“My lord?” You called your usual greeting, grateful when he stirred at the sound of your voice. Some days it was harder than others to rouse him to consciousness. “Your meal, Lord Heisenberg.”

Just as he always did, Heisenberg hungrily tucked into the slop. While he was thus preoccupied you cautiously took one of the pieces of venison you had procured from the table and slipped it into the bowl with a soft plop. Despite your attempt at stealth the former lord seemed to immediately take notice if his sudden pause was any indicator. Again that stare was leveled at you, drowsy eyes somehow still managing to pin you in place.

“Where–did you get that?”

You hadn't expected him to speak to you again. You took a moment to recover from your shock, eventually getting out, “th-the dinner table, sir.”

His only response was a wordless grunt, the man quickly digging his teeth into the bloody, herb-laden bit of meat. A soft groan escaped him as he swallowed and you couldn't help the flush that heated your face, fixing your attention pointedly on the tray in front of you.

“I have more for you. I've already eaten.” You lied rapidly before you could think better of it, fishing around in your apron pocket for a moment. Heisenberg's expression, what little of it you could see through the curtain of his hair, had gone wary. Yellow-green eyes drifted sluggishly from your outstretched palm to your face, then back to your hand. “If you don't eat it, it will go to waste.” You insisted, trying for a reassuring smile.

The ropes binding him creaked suddenly. He lowered his head and you felt cracked lips, sharp teeth and a warm tongue barely graze your palm, then he was withdrawing to devour in peace. You exhaled as subtly as you could, trying your hardest not to seem terrified. Why on earth had you offered it to him in your hand?! He wasn't some tame beast, he was Lord Heisenberg! You were incredibly blessed to still possess your fingers.

He had left one piece in your hand. You looked up, confused, but he had already buried his face in the bowl anew to finish off the last of the slop. Nervously you tucked the final bit of meat into your mouth, chewing it slowly to savor it as much as you could.

“Thank you.” The lord's voice sounded slightly stronger, much to your surprise.

“O-Of course, m-m-my lord.” You stammered, trying and failing to keep your tone from squeaking.

The ropes hummed slightly under the strain of Heisenberg's motions, the man adjusting his legs beneath him until he was nearly able to stand properly. He loomed over you, still hunched somewhat, grunting in what seemed to be effort. You pressed your back to the wood behind you, bracing yourself for whatever might come next.

His nose brushed the bruise on your forehead and you flinched. “Moreau.” The animosity in his tone made you want to crumple, for all that it didn't seem to be aimed at you. The man inhaled, the subsequent growl coming from his chest. “-and the colossal bitch.”

“My lord–” you attempted to protest, assuming he must mean the Lady Alcina.

“Dinner was exquisite.” Heisenberg said abruptly, his eyes looking more alert than they ever had to your memory. “I'd be honored if you'd join me again next week.” His voice still sounded ragged, but he no longer had to pause between words.

Your knees shook beneath you but you managed a nod. After all, you didn't have much choice. You had to bring him his meals, otherwise it was back to Alcina and her spawn. It was always either this or that, and you could handle this.

Probably.

…

Sneaking Lord Heisenberg bits of unspoiled food from the dinner table became normal over the following weeks as the spring-gray valley shifted into the forest green of summer. Discarded chunks of meat and gristle, bits of bread, fruits that were a touch too ripe to catch the fickle attentions of the ladies of the village…Lord Heisenberg accepted every meager offering you managed to provide with a rough sort of gratitude, always inclining his head even if he didn't manage to speak. Talking seemed to tax him greatly, though certain days found him nearly alert, and he was not so prone to drowsiness as he once was.

“Where are you when you aren't bringing me my dinner?” He queried unprompted one evening, glancing up at you.

“I…” you hesitated. The man obviously bore no fondness for Lady Dimitrescu, perhaps you ought to lie about your usual occupations? Nothing good ever came from being untruthful, though. “I tend to Lady Alcina and her daughters.”

He grumbled, “That explains the smell.” While you were trying to decide whether you ought to be offended, the former lord shook himself bodily. His arms, bound to the wall behind him by those strange ropes, made a few distressing cracking noises and he grunted, this time sounding pained. “Can you–my back is…” he trailed off, trying to straighten up.

“Oh, of course.” You placed the tray down, pausing uncertainly by his shoulder. He had evidently been whipped recently, his back covered in half-healed lash marks. The tattered remains of his shirt were stuck to a few of the wounds and so you gently peeled it free, assuming that was what he needed in order to make himself more comfortable.

“Thank you.” His mouth was right next to your ear when he spoke, causing you to flinch at his husky whisper.

“W-Whatever you need.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes on the floor while you retreated. You weren't certain what then possessed you to ask, “does it…does it hurt when she does that to you?”

Overhead, a crow that had been pecking at the bars cawed loudly, the sudden noise making you start. There was a soft, liquid sound that you had grown to recognize as him running his tongue over his teeth, but the former lord offered no true reply to your impudent question. Instead, he remarked, almost idly, “do you know what happened to Miranda?”

Miranda. Mother Miranda? “She…we lost her to the winter. It was a-” your brow furrowed as you tried to recall what Lady Alcina had called the illness. “-pneumonia?”

Heisenberg roared; it took you several terrified moments to realize that he was laughing hard enough to make him wheeze. The crow took flight in a frightened rush. “Pneumonia, that's a fucking riot.” He finally snorted, shaking his head. “As if that old hag could be taken out so easily.”

“Don't–!” You began to protest before your brain caught up with just who it was that you were speaking to. Those strange yellow-green eyes leveled at you, as if he was daring you to continue. “Don't speak about her like that.” You finished, your voice barely a whisper.

“Were you even born when all that happened?” Karl sounded incredulous, but not irritated. Heartened, you shook your head, only to be battered by his harsh tone a moment later, “so you know exactly fuck all.”

“I know what I've been taught,” you replied tartly, “just like everyone else. Lady Dimitrescu is very thorough with our histories.”

Heisenberg rolled his eyes, looking for all the world like a sulky teenager. “As I said. Fuck all.”

You jerked upright, seizing the tray and marching out of the cell with the sound of the former lord's half-crazed laughter ringing in your ears.

You wanted to be infuriated, you wanted to be upset at his insinuation. But…

What could he know about Mother Miranda's death? It was true, you hadn't even been born when Miranda had passed. All you knew was what you'd been told by the Lady, what you had read in the histories of the castle.

What did Karl know that you didn't know? Was there more to the story than what you had been led to believe?

…

As the summer solstice drew near, preparations began to get underway for the annual festival. With the extra work you were hard-pressed to bring Heisenberg his meals in a timely manner, often stumbling down the stairs exhausted well after the sun had set.

The former lord seemed to regress somewhat as the solstice approached, no longer raising his head when you visited and simply waiting for his food with a vacant expression. Not that you were looking at his face! Absolutely not, you knew better than that. You simply assumed, that was all.

One evening you tripped on your hem, taking a nasty fall at the bottom of the stairs that knocked the wind out of you. Tears welled up in your eyes while you laid there on the hard-packed dirt, your scraped elbow resting awkwardly against the wall. A quiet little hiccup made its way out and you heard Heisenberg stir in his cell, the ropes creaking much louder than you expected.

“You–alright?” He called, voice grating harshly. “Anything broken?”

“Fine, I'm fine.” You grumbled, mainly to yourself, wiping the tears that had managed to escape. “Just winded.” You rolled over, moving to try and collect the tray and its spilled contents. Luckily the bowl had sloshed over onto the tray itself instead of the floor, and the prize in your pocket was unharmed. You breathed a sigh of relief, getting to your feet.

A low, raspy chuckle issued from the imprisoned man. “That's the first time you've talked to me like I was a real person.” Terrified by your momentary lapse in propriety, you tried to stammer out an apology. “Nothing wrong with it, sweetheart. If anything…it's a comfort to know I'm human to you.”

Sweetheart. A casual endearment, a kind way of addressing you. You were flushed immediately, continuing to stutter as you tottered your way across the floor. “U-Um, with dinner, I…” you finally paused, pulling free the precious loaf of herb-infused bread. “I found this. F-For you.” You knew the lie was weak, you knew he knew exactly where you'd gotten the bread. You had taken it directly from the ovens, wrapped it in a napkin and snuck it out before setting the table for the evening meal. It was your first and only act of true thievery, and you just prayed that no one would notice its absence. You didn't think you would survive that beating.

The former lord's eyes met your own and your heart started to hammer in your chest the longer he stared. He had never made such prolonged eye contact with you. It was terrifying, but…you didn't want it to end, either. Confused, you attempted to ignore that desire and instead tore a small piece off the loaf, extending it to him in the palm of your hand. He had never expressed any annoyance with your odd behavior and so you had persisted, but today…

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed. For a moment he reminded you of the animal you had once seen him as, the man refusing to break eye contact as he leaned down to eat from your palm. You chose to avert your eyes, more than a little bewildered by how you felt. His teeth delicately latched down onto the bread and you immediately retreated to pull off a fresh piece, the herbs staining your fingertips green as you did so. You were startled when he licked your fingers next, instead of simply taking the bread as he had before. Without intending to, you let out a surprised little squeak.

The lord’s eyes shot back up to your own and, while you couldn't precisely tell through the thick, matted facial hair he sported, you were almost certain that he was smirking at you. “What's wrong? Afraid I'll snap them off?” He chuckled. Truthfully you had actually considered that and he must have noticed the shudder which ran through you, because he quickly continued, “I'd be an idiot to bite the hand that feeds me, sweetheart. Especially after you've been so…accommodating.”

“I don't-” you paused, debating on just how brave you wanted to be. “Why does she keep you down here?”

“Fear.” Heisenberg's teeth flashed while he chewed his next bite. “I'm strong, even like this. I'll tear her throat out and she knows it.”

You balked. “You would fight the Lady?”

Lord Heisenberg shrugged as best as he could manage. “Why not? Something to do, right? Maybe I'll have better luck this time.”

This time.

“How many–”

“Can I get some more of that bread?” Heisenberg interrupted before you could finish your question, his attention fixed pointedly on the remainder of the small loaf in your hand.

“Oh! Of course, I'm sorry.” You pulled off another piece and gave it to him, marveling slightly at the docile way he ate it out of your palm. It was thrilling in a way, like gaining the trust of a skittish creature. You doubted he would be fond of the comparison, though. He didn't strike you as the docile type despite his current state.

“Alcina and I were close once, you know.” Heisenberg continued to chew the bread almost meditatively after he spoke, leaving you to await his next sentence with baited breath. “I was loyal to her, if you can believe that.” The former lord's expression darkened. “A faithful little mongrel.”

Your heart sank. “What happened?”

He didn't deign to answer you for several minutes. You had all but given up hope for a response when he spoke next. “Ambition.” The word was sneered, derision dripping from every letter. “Alcina didn't want to kill sweet, helpless Mother Miranda herself, but she sure as hell could get someone else to do it.” Karl’s sigh echoed in the cell. “And get someone else to take the fall for it when the old witch turned up dead. Pneumonia,” he scoffed, “she's sanitizing. That bitch and I both know what happened that day, and we both know why she went after me so hard.”

“To keep you under her control?” you ventured timidly.

Heisenberg's grin was full of more teeth than you'd like, most of them stained a dull green from the herbs in the bread. “To keep me from ripping her apart for her betrayal.” He clarified, his tone an odd singsong. “You should have heard what she promised me, that Amazonian fuck. My own village out of the valley, my own dominion, freedom. And like a blind fool, I…” He trailed off, his burning gaze going vacant.

“You believed her.” Now this, you could sympathize with. The Lady Dimitrescu had always been cruel to you, but it was the occasional softening of her tone, the honeyed promises she would make and break to you and the rest of the servants… ”I'm sorry.”

The former lord bared his teeth again. “I won't make that mistake again,” he hissed. “Someday, someday–she'd better watch that enormous back of hers.”

“Why does she whip you, then? I feel like that's…er, not intelligent.” You tried to be delicate, the guilt from speaking poorly about the Lady pricking your conscience.

Heisenberg lolled his head in your direction. “Blood, sweetheart. She's in the wine business and I guess my affinity for my…gift makes me a pretty decent vintage. Almost as good as her sweet little virgins.” The former lord stared at you thoughtfully for a moment, then closed his eyes. He abruptly seemed exhausted, his body going slack in his binds.

You took that as your cue to leave, carefully retrieving the tray and rising to your feet. As you turned to depart, however, Karl spoke up once more.

“Keep coming back to me, will you?” He requested, his voice soft. “We don't have much longer.”

Your brow furrowed in concern, but you nodded obediently.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, you were surprised to find Lady Beneviento's favorite doll, Angie, propped up in the corner of the landing. “Now how did you get there?” You mused aloud, wiping your hands clean on your apron before you carefully picked the doll up. Angie's eyes, as ever, seemed to follow your every move, and you couldn't help but marvel at the skilled craftsmanship that permitted such an illusion. “I'd better get you back to Lady Beneviento, little miss. No doubt she's missing you.”

Later that evening once you'd bedded down for the night, you found yourself tossing and turning despite your exhaustion.

‘We don't have much longer’. What could he mean by that?

…

Apparently what he meant was that you would be an integral part of the binding ritual on the solstice. You had always assumed (perhaps naively) that Lord Heisenberg's handmaidens were reassigned to serve in one of the lesser houses after their year of service, but now the whole horrible truth was being laid out neatly in front of you.

Sacrifice, human sacrifice. A handmaiden every solstice to keep Heisenberg bound, virgin blood spilled by the House Dimitrescu as was their want.

You had been dragged from your bedding in the lightless hours of predawn, barely aware of what was occurring before a burlap sack was thrown over your head and you were struck hard enough to lose consciousness.

You drifted in and out, the burlap difficult to breathe through. Someone was moving, shifting, carrying you for what seemed like hours until suddenly, freezing cold stone met the backs of your legs. You jolted to full awareness at the shocking chill, realizing as you did that your legs were bare to the knee and whatever you were wearing was not what you had worn to sleep.

The sack was torn from your head and you immediately darted your eyes around, fear and panic welling up as you realized you had never seen this room before. Some secret chamber in the bowels of Castle Dimitrescu, if you had to guess.

A marble altar beneath you piled high with dead branches, shallow channels etched into the marble flooring, and…

And the former Lord Heisenberg kneeling beside the altar, his head bowed and his hands bound in front of him.

You barely had the time to ponder that curiosity (why on earth would someone tie Heisenberg's hands in front of him?) before your attention was redirected to your own predicament. Your arms had been secured at the wrist and elbow, hands folded at the small of your back. From the ache of your muscles at the unnatural position, you could assume you'd been bound for a while. You were quickly realizing, to your dismay, that you were hardly clothed. Your normal garb had been replaced by a thin stained shift, only just long enough to brush your knees.

“Awake, awake, awake,” came the reedy voice of Lord Moreau, and his large, damp hand clumsily brushed your cheek. “Finally awake! Little morsel, l-l-little treat.”

You were unable to hide your revulsion, flinching back from his touch. The Piscean lord looked momentarily teary, but he quickly mastered himself and rewarded your lack of manners with a sharp blow to your face. The strike sent you tumbling off the altar, your shoulder meeting the marble with a hard thud. You bit your lip, willing yourself to stay quiet. It was always worse if you gave a reaction.

There was an infuriated-sounding gurgle and then Moreau was seizing your arm hard enough to make you cry out, the lord dragging you to your feet and tossing you back onto the altar as if you weighed nothing at all. “Be silent, be silent, Alcina trusted me with this.” He spoke half to himself, his webbed hands roiling over one another while he paced. “She's so busy, so busy, she trusted her favorite-”

“That super-sized bitch wouldn't trust you to wake up in the morning.” Heisenberg groaned. “This is sloppy work, Moreau. We've never done a pyre and the branches aren't even dry, you stupid fuck.”

“Don't call me that!” Moreau shrieked, his voice breaking. “Mother said-”

“Miranda's dead,” Karl interrupted him flatly. “She's dead and nothing that any of you do will bring her back. That old hag is rotting where she belongs.”

Moreau burbled wordlessly, clutching at his head before wailing, “stop saying those things about Mother!”

“Dead. Old. Bitch.” Heisenberg sneered, the former lord finally managing to kneel upright properly so he could glare at his ‘sibling’. Moreau quailed momentarily, watery eyes flicking in your direction.

“You…you have helped him!” He accused you, the piercing whine of his voice making you wince. “What have you done? Tell me what you've done!” Those webbed hands wrapped around your throat in an iron grip, the lord dissolving into gibbering hysterics while he began to choke the life out of you.

You knew full well that Lord Salvatore Moreau could easily have snapped your neck, but he seemed to have slipped into some kind of irrational madness. The knowledge did you little good, however. The reality was that you would die all the same whether he strangled you or broke your neck. As he shook you, you wondered whether anyone in the kitchens would even notice you were gone. Your hands clenched in their binds, more of a reflex than a true attempt to free yourself, but you managed to swing one feeble kick out at Moreau's side. Naturally, the aquatic lord entirely ignored it.

“Moreau!” Heisenberg's tone sounded strangely urgent when he barked the other lord's name. “If you kill them now, you'll fuck up Alcina's plan!”

Salvatore started, his grip easing minutely. “And you'll get free.” The naked fear in his voice cut through your rattled senses. Heisenberg's response was a low, guttural snarl. “I cannot fail.” Purpose and surety seemed to be breathed anew into Moreau's hideous form, the lord hurriedly lurching away to acquire a torch from a nearby sconce.

As soon as his back was turned, Heisenberg caught your eye. The man jerked his chin to the side, indicating the direction of the door to the chamber. Run, he seemed to mouth, but between your current disorientation and his tangled facial hair you were unsure. You shook your head all the same, confused and scared by the ferocity his face took on afterwards.

Karl leaned forward, bared his teeth and snapped them at you. Run, now!

You tried to stand and the uneven pile of damp branches beneath you gave way, toppling over and half-burying you in the process. Moreau made a noise of distress, shambling back towards you with a torch in hand. “What h-have you done, oh what has happened?” He asked in dismay. “All my hard work–and the solstice-! You keep ruining everything!” The lord raged, his temper seeming to flare once more. “I cannot allow-”

Clang!

The noise echoed sharply off the walls, making Moreau jump. All you could see from your awkward vantage point was that it looked like one of the sconces on the wall had given way, dumping a torch onto the chamber’s floor. The misshapen lord huffed out angrily, throwing down the torch he'd carried onto the pile of sticks by your leg.

You frantically tried to get away from the guttering flames, the dampness of the surrounding wood your only saving grace at the moment. Moreau giggled softly to himself, obviously enjoying your panicky struggle before he sauntered off towards the newly-downed torch.

Another metallic noise rang out further down the hall, but you were so intent on escaping the smoking nest around you you didn't bother looking up to see what had made the sound.

Moreau, on the other hand, released a frustrated bellow and shambled off faster.

You finally managed to roll away from the majority of the embers, the torch dying a slow death smothered by soggy, green wood. Sticks stabbed and poked into your stomach and back but you continued, doggedly kicking free of the limbs after several fitful moments.

Karl was abruptly over you, his hunched form blocking whatever meager light the torches provided. “Still.” He breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Be still.”

You obeyed, halting on your side. The former lord bent even further, supporting his weight by planting his fists on the floor. Something whipped past your ear and then there was a bright, vibrant pain in your right upper arm. Heisenberg cursed under his breath when you gasped out, the man’s eyes darting to your own.

Your hands were suddenly loosed of their bonds, and you did your best to refrain from groaning as pins and needles surged down from your shoulders to your fingertips. Curling into yourself, you took note of the fact that a small cut now graced your upper arm.

Karl grimaced. “I missed.” After flexing your fingers experimentally, you reached forward and dug your nails into the thick, rust-stained rope that was wrapped around his wrists. Heisenberg jerked back, obviously spooked by your speed. “Won't matter.” He muttered, but he also didn't try to pull away again.

You struggled with the knots, wiping rusty-maroon flakes off your sweaty palms over and over again in an effort to secure a better grip. Finally, you managed to weasel your index into a tight loop, coaxing it into loosening.

You felt Karl exhale hard, his breath ghosting over the top of your head. However, with your bare knees pressed to the cold marble floor, you sensed her approach before you truly heard it. “The Lady.” You whispered, horror seizing your body in that familiar vise grip.

Heisenberg fell over himself in his effort to retreat, the man again indulging in a prolonged exhale of expletives. Lady Dimitrescu's voice echoed down the hall, “--you know I don't have much time Salvatore, and you promised me you could manage this…”

“I can! I can, o-of course I can.” Moreau sounded nauseatingly frantic, wet footsteps following in the wake of Lady Dimitrescu's stately heels. “I just needed a bit more…a little b-bit more time, that's all. They are not cooperating.”

“Dear, sweet Moreau, why would they? Humans are terrified of getting their heads cut off.” Alcina's words were said kindly, but you felt like you'd been punched in the stomach.

Karl hung his head from his spot on his knees, continuing to pepper the tepid air with his whispered bouts of inventive profanity.

You turned your gaze to the hallway, a shudder running down your spine as the Lady Dimitrescu and Lord Moreau entered the chamber. Dimitrescu began clicking her tongue, seeming disappointed. “Salvatore, what is all this debris?”

“A pyre!” You couldn't believe it when the lord pulled himself up and puffed his chest out proudly. “To burn the sacrifice.”

Alcina rubbed her temples.

There was a flash of movement and Moreau sailed through the air, crashing headfirst into the floor with a dull crunch. “Well, now that that's managed.” The giant woman remarked cheerily, stalking towards you. “Afraid I don't have the luxury of time on my side, so you'll be going to your grave with questions unanswered.”

You were wrenched upright, feet momentarily leaving the floor with the force of the motion. While you were grateful to be wholly free of the prickly limbs, you knew you were now even further from safety than you had been with Lord Moreau.

“Greet my dear brother, won't you?” Lady Dimitrescu cooed in your ear, her nails digging into your shoulders like talons.

You winced, trying to muster up the ability to speak. Your mouth was so dry. “Lord Heisenberg-” You managed to say, but you were cuffed across the head by Alcina without warning, the blow crumpling you to your knees once more.

While you attempted to stand again Lady Dimitrescu chided you, her tone that of a fondly exasperated parent. “Little one, you know my dear brother was stripped of his title. He is just Heisenberg, just my silly brother.”

“I apologize, my Lady.” You breathed, bracing your aching forehead momentarily on the freezing marble flooring. “Please forgive my mistake, I had no intention of offending. I simply did not know how to address the L–how to address him.”

“You should not be addressing him at all!” Alcina snapped, her wrathful eruption making you cringe. “You were to bring him his sustenance and leave. You were not supposed to make idle conversation and dawdle with this pathetic–miserable–!”

“Shut your fucking hole!” Heisenberg shouted abruptly. You dared to sneak a glance in his direction and he was glaring at Lady Dimitrescu, his expression so decidedly full of hatred that for a moment, you were unsure which of them scared you more. “Every damn year we go through this. Just get on with it already, you colossal-”

Alcina's pointed shoe buried itself in your ribs, the towering woman kicking you aside as if you weighed nothing at all. Your stomach ended up crashing into the top of the altar and you fought for breath, vision graying at the edges while your fingers clawed for a grip on the smooth stone. Through the remaining tangle of branches you felt an ornate handle, and you clutched down on instinct as you slid back off the altar to the floor. A blade met your eyes when you furtively glanced down, the sharp edge blackened with some sort of strange patina, but you didn't exactly have time to ponder the object for the Lady was speaking once more.

“I've heard tell, Heisenberg. The kitchen maids have mentioned spotting your little lamb sneaking food.” The Lady hissed. “Sneaking it to you, to poor, poor Heisenberg.”

“No.” The former lord retorted flatly. “Whatever they did with it, it wasn't for me. Maybe they were feeding a wild animal or-”

Lady Dimitrescu's fingers wound into your hair and she pulled you up onto your knees, the agony leaving you trembling. “Not a sound from your little pet, not a sound! So brave for you.” The woman crooned, tightening her grip until your scalp began to pound. “So brave and so, so foolish. Donna told me everything, little pet.”

“You titanic cunt, I already told you they didn't do anything for me!” Karl barked.

“You're so lively, Heisenberg! Normally you can barely even open your eyes. I wonder why that is.” The Lady hummed, almost to herself.

Heisenberg replied curtly, “because your moron wound me a little tight. Honestly I can't believe you trusted that idiot with something so important. You're clearly slipping.” He leaned back, shooting Alcina a look that somehow managed to be condescending. “Gettin’ fat and lazy, are we?”

Your only warning was feeling the Lady's fingers twitch. Driven by pure survival and an overwhelming desire to live, you stabbed the blade of whatever weapon you had grabbed backwards under your arm into Alcina's leg. She screamed, her hold on you slacking for a single moment, and you seized that moment to lunge for Karl.

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse.

“Please-!” You begged Heisenberg, frantically ripping at the knots still securing his hands. “Please, please please–” your mouth couldn't seem to utter any other words while the former lord stared dumbly down at you, then up at the Lady. You dissolved into panicked tears, hiccuping and dropping your forehead to rest on his chest in defeat.

The ancient, blood-drenched flax abruptly parted beneath your fingers like water. Karl's chest expanded as the former lord took a deep breath.

Alcina's talons drove through your shoulder and you were flung back into the side of the altar. The last thing you could recall was your temple splitting on the sharp marble corner. You could have sworn you heard Karl yell something hoarsely, and then…nothing.

…

Eternity.

Eternity spent under someone else's thumb, eternity serving another's ambitions, eternity waiting for his promised reward.

Brave, strong, loyal Heisenberg. Even the memory of their faux mother's words made him feel ill. It had always been some sort of test, a trial to overcome, just a bit further, until the resentment and Alcina's clever little jabs had burrowed deep enough for him to do something…regrettable.

Though, only regrettable in the sense that it allowed Dimitrescu to have her way. Karl would never regret what he did to Miranda. The old witch had used him long enough, and he made her end swift. The fight with Alcina was…much less simple. Frankly, he had underestimated her and as such, Heisenberg lost spectacularly.

Thus began the second eternity in his life, one where he faded dreamily in and out of consciousness for year after year. Eat the scraps, take his licks, go back to sleep. An interminable slog of time while he did his best to maintain the barest hold on his extremely-limited sanity, the yearly sacrifice-that-did-not-know pitching his food at him in disdain and laughing as the thin gruel dripped down his chin…

Worse were the lash days, where Dimitrescu took fiendish delight in wringing him dry for her decadent (in every sense of the word) vino. There, his consciousness had no recourse but to flare awake every time the whip snapped into his flesh, an ever-constant reminder of his pride, his failure. Not so much the physical pain, that he was no stranger to, but Alcina laughing uproariously at him made him want to rip himself apart from the inside out.

Silly little brother, did you really believe me?

It was always one thing or another in this damned place. Heisenberg existed in what felt like a tight, seamless loop of time. Over and over, over and over, insanity defined.

But then the most recent failure from Alcina's cadre of housekeepers began to bring him his meals. Another year had come and gone, another sacrifice-that-did-not-know, and Karl was exhausted to his very marrow. Maybe that was why he had spoken to you.

Or maybe he was just bored, and he had to admit your timid behavior was a little funny, especially after enduring the disrespect of countless others before you. You spoke to him like he was still a title-holding lord, like he still had his ill-fated army at his disposal and was still a tangible threat. It was entertaining, if nothing else.

You have not been cruel to me. I see no reason to be cruel to you.

He hadn't exactly meant to smile, but it had happened regardless. To think, after all the terrible things he had done, after all the blood he had spilled…that there would be anyone left who could claim he hadn't been cruel to them-! It was so unbelievable that he couldn't help his sardonic grin.

If only it had ended there. If he'd had any damn brains in his head, Karl knew he would have ended it there. That he hadn't spoke volumes to his mental state. Lowering himself to this level…there had been a time in his life where he would have taken as much notice of a human in his presence as he would have the wallpaper. Now, he found himself craving the albeit limited socialization and, while his pride wanted to mourn the loss of his beloved ‘superiority’, his flickering sanity simply appreciated the reliable interaction.

And you snuck him food. Real food, real food, iron-rich venison and herbed breads, real. The green herbs of the valley in particular had always been touted as a cure-all and Heisenberg had to concede that there may have been something to that claim. He could feel the old strength returning to his body with every meal, despite the blood wards knotted yearly into the ropes of his prison.

With that strength came the boundless possibility, the ludicrous hope for freedom that he had nearly given up on. He did his best not to alert his jailers, the former lord's bent pride still stinging every time he was put through his proverbial paces by Dimitrescu. Karl soothed himself with the reminder that if this worked, if this worked, it would all be worth it. The indignity…he was no stranger to it and it would not serve him to continue to be offended by it until he was able to decisively strike back at the bitch. Then, then, she would pay–

“Please!”

Begging, pleading, screaming–why were you looking at him like that?

Karl's head was spinning, he couldn't think straight, you were tearing at the eternal ropes around his wrists and then, Dimitrescu lashed out.

Victory for my master.

It had always been someone else in charge, someone else urging him on to bloodshed and war and trial. What could be the harm, then, in serving a master who had shown him kindness, true kindness? For their terrible sin they laid bleeding beside the altar before him, Alcina's cackling laughter echoing off the high ceiling of the chamber as the weak solstice sunbeam drew closer and closer. The enormous woman tore free the knife that they had shoved gracelessly into her leg, her eyes burning with rage. It was the knife she always used for the solstice, the knife that she would…

With a start that tore through the mental haze like lightning, Karl realized he knew that blade, knew that curved edge. It was a dagger that an ill-fated assassin had attempted to end Alcina with, once upon a time. What ego, for the towering Lady to continue to use such a weapon for the binding ritual!

Through his entire imprisonment Karl had felt as though he was pulling air through wet fabric. Suddenly his chest could expand fully once more, and the lord drank greedily of the essence he had been denied for so long.

His shoulders creaked like rusty gears, joints singing in reply, blessed pain bathing him with the joyous agony of life. It lives! Victor Frankenstein cried, it breathes! And as one monster to another, Karl lurched upright and took an unsteady step towards Alcina.

“Bitch.” One word, a full sentence, cutting his faux-sibling’s chortling short. “Let's see whether you can weasel your way outta’ this one, you albino sequoia.” Heisenberg slurred, relishing the way Dimitrescu sputtered in rage while he cracked his knuckles. The ropes continued to slough off his wrists, layer after layer peeling back. He was alive again, awake again.

He was still alive.

Part Two

#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 #forgive me for not posting since january it's been a long year #enjoy!

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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 · 17 days 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 · 7 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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thewritersaddictions · 9 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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littlelesbinonny · 3 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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