#re village fanfiction

[nekoprankster218]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ethan Winters/Mia Winters, Chris Redfield & Mia Winters Characters: Mia Winters, Rosemary Winters (Resident Evil), Ethan Winters, Chris Redfield, Karl Heisenberg Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, One Shot, Mafia AU, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mentioned Claire Redfield, minor character at the end can be read as Leon Kennedy, anyone else is free to tho, note: the ending is left open and I have no plans to continue the AU so fair warning, Unresolved Series: Part 25 of Popular Fanfiction Tropes the Series (based on the ColeyDoesThings videos), Part 47 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

When Mia discovers the late night intruder is her own husband, the night escalates to a point she can't trust anyone in the whole city... save for one man.

[soldateins]

Healing Touch

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader Oneshot (Hurt/Comfort)

Words: 1,355

Warnings: Injuries, blood, drinking blood (Alcina does), not too crazy just RE Village shenanigans

Notes: This fanfic is a request for the lovely @et-is-an-alien - I hope you love it!! It’s my first ever time writing for Lady D and for a request so I’m super nervous! But this was so fun :D (I'm also still learning about formatting my writing on tumblr so lmk any tips bc it's a bit janky!!)

Summary: You get attacked by that imbecile Heisenberg's lycans while out in the village. You make your way back to Castle Dimitrescu, desperately seeking healing from your sweet Lady.

Searing pain stung throughout different points of your body as you ran across the bridge and through the vineyard towards the castle entrance. Your panicked breaths melted into the whistling cold wind and the distant barks of lycans at your back. Slamming your hands and body against the large door, you pushed it open with the last of your strength and entered the hall of the castle. You pulled the door shut, the icy air whipping your hair around your face and it sticking to the blood spread over your features.

             With a desperate huff, you hauled your weakening body through the hallways and into the main hall. You fell onto the last step of the staircase with a cry and finally inspected the damage the lycans had done. Bites of all depths were scattered over your person, the most severe being at the join of your neck and shoulder. Your ribcage had also caught the tail end of the swings of a machete a few times, leaving behind a collection of claw-like cuts and making it hard to breathe deeply.

             You gasped and swallowed as you ripped up some of your shirt and pressed it into your ribcage, “Ah, fuck- fucking dogs. Fucking Heisenberg.” Your words echoed through the main hall and a faint buzzing floated through from the hallway. A cloud of flies flew around your head and over your body before transforming into Daniela at your side. She immediately scanned your injuries and hissed.

“Mother! Mother, come at once!” Daniela shouted, kneeling next to you and taking over pressing into your wounds.

             “Daniela? What is it, daughter?” Alcina’s voice rang from the top landing as her heavy steps made their way towards the staircase.

             “It’s Y/n, come quickly! Something has happened!”

You groaned and lolled your head back in agony as Daniela dipped her fingers into your neck wound and licked the blood from her hand, “Lycans,” she spat. Alcina’s steps grew quicker, and you heard her shriek as your eyes grew fuzzy, “By Mother’s Grace!”

“Alcina, my heart,” You exhaled, feebly grabbing at her ankle as she came around to your front. “Hush, dear, save your energy – Daniela,” she ushered her daughter away from you and you felt her arms wrap around your body, “Bring alcohol, gauze, all of it.” Alcina lifted you to her chest, “Come, my darling, I shall sort you.” She began to march towards the bed chamber. You softly caressed her necklace as she walked, rolling the pearls between your fingers lazily, “Mm, my love,” you hummed, jolting slightly and letting out a cry of pain when Alcina pushed the door to the bedchamber open with one of her knees.

She placed you on the large bed, and you bounced into the mattress with a whine.

“I am sorry, my dear, but time is of the essence – Daniela!” Alcina roared toward the open door and Daniela’s voice echoed through the halls, “Yes, mother!” Daniela ran through the doorway, bundles and bottles piled up and pressed to her chest. “Thank you, my daughter. Now, leave us.” Alcina ordered softly and Daniela nodded,

“Yes, mother.” And left the room, shutting the door behind her.

You watched Alcina pull at your clothes and her face contorted between anger and fear as she pried soaked pieces of clothing from your wounds, “Daniela said this is the work of lycans?” Her golden eyes caught yours for a moment before she conjured her claws and carefully cut your trousers and shirt from your body piece by piece, leaving you mostly bare. You nodded, “Yes, Heisenberg’s lot. They’re still—” You took in a long, strangled breath as Alcina wiped an alcohol-soaked cloth across the cuts on your ribcage, “wreaking havoc in the village, killing- killing and eating villagers and livestock. Ah! Alcina—” You groaned and writhed.

 “You need to stay still, my darling,” she held you with one hand and cleaned your wounds with the other, “That bastard, Heisenberg. I will strip him of his skin and feed him to his own dogs.” She snarled. After dressing your ribcage and cleaning the sporadic surface-level bites around your limbs, Alcina leaned in closely to inspect the group of bites between your shoulder and neck, “Nasty work, indeed.” Her nose scrunched up in distaste for the lycans, “Just like their father.”

“Alcina,” You rolled your eyes and gripped her thigh, “for the love of—”

“Yes, yes, I’ll hush.”

She dragged two of her fingers through the wounds, eliciting a pained mewl from your throat, and brought them to her mouth to lick, “Turning stale and unsurprisingly filthy,” she smacked her lips, examining the flavour, “I need to remove the dirty blood. Up,” She brought her hands to your sides and sat you up, leaning you forward against her chest and shoulder. You grunted as her warm mouth enveloped a section of the bites, “Fuck, fuck.” You hissed, her warm saliva mixing into your blood and stinging. Her teeth burrowed into your muscle slightly and she began suckling at your wounds. Pained huffs and gasps escaped you, and you grabbed handfuls of her dress at her waist as the dull and familiar ache of her feeding streamed through your shoulder and down your arm.

After a few seconds, Alcina broke away from your neck with puffed cheeks full of blood, and she leaned away towards the bedside table. You rested your head into the crook of her neck, listening to the dragging of a metal bowl and her spitting multiple times into it before putting the bowl back down and turning back to you.

“How absolutely putrid, very unlike your usual delicious bouquet.” She purred and you let out a drowsy chuckle. Alcina gently pushed your head back and returned her mouth to your throat. A soft moan crept through you and you felt your breaths shortening as she cradled you in her arms. Alcina chuckled, the sound vibrating against your muscles before she pulled away and spat into the bowl again. She faced you, golden eyes shining in the dim light of the hearth and licking her lips, “You’re still feeling well enough for pleasure, it seems.” Her mouth, wet with your blood, curved into a smirk.

“Always well enough for pleasure with you, my heart,” your voice turned to a whisper as the edges of your vision became darker and your grip on her waist weakened. 

“Sadly, it will have to wait - your blood is clean but you are in dire need of rest.” She wrapped your numbing shoulder and neck in bandages before cupping your face with one hand and holding your waist with the other, sighing quietly with relief. A sleepy smile danced along your lips as you brought your hand to her cheek and stroked over her lips with your thumb,

“Having my own personal nurse is nice, especially one so delicious,” you said hoarsely and Alcina raised her eyebrows with a chortle, 

“Don’t make it a habit, dear,” she brought you closer, tapping her nose against yours, “Although, you would make an exquisite cabernet.” Alcina pressed her lips to yours with a hum. You laughed into the kiss, a sting of pain surging through your chest as you breathed in deeply, turning the laugh into a shuddering moan and briefly darkening your vision. Alcina pulled back, looking into your eyes, “My love?” She whispered.

“Ah–” You gasped, “It’s my ribs, it’s okay, ah, I’m okay,” You winced as she gently laid you back in the bed and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. Alcina rose from the bed and wiped her mouth with a cloth, throwing it into the blood-filled bowl on the bedside table before making her way around the bed. She laid back on the plush pillows and gently pulled you into her arms, resting your head against her chest.

“Sleep, my dear. And when you wake I will have Bela bring Heisenberg’s head on a platter.” Her long fingers stroked your side, avoiding your injuries as they went.

“Mhm,” You hummed in agreement, dropping into a sweet slumber to the rhythms of Alcina’s body below you.

[jinxxparodiesproductions]

Looks like @emmeryn-whatcha-say OC Squire has to be more careful who they’re writing fan fiction about 😅

[maybegays-blog]

Can u write sad Lady d angst i want to cry

Here you go 🙏🙏 Also I canT write angst to save my fucking life, sorry. I tried my best tho😢😢

Echoes Of Sacrifice

Warnings: Gore(?) Character death, murder, depressed Alcina.

—

As Ethan Winters ascended the winding staircase of Castle Dimitrescu that led to a secluded tower, his heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination.

He knew that somewhere within these ancient walls lay the key to ending the reign of the vampiric matriarch, The Dagger Of Death's Flowers. And he would stop at nothing to see his mission through to its bitter end.

Unbeknownst to Ethan, you trailed silently behind him, your own heart heavy with a sense of foreboding. Every step brought you closer to a confrontation that could shatter the fragile peace you had fought so hard to maintain. But you couldn't stand idly by and watch as Ethan plunged a dagger into your lady’s heart. Not when you knew the depth of her despair, the agony of her loss.

You pressed on, ascending the steps as the chill of the winter wind swept past you.

Your lady had warned you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stand by and watch that man kill your entire family.

Finally, the staircase came to an end, opening into a secluded tower bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. In the center of the room, a large coffin containing a decaying skeleton. Nestled within the skeleton’s arms, lay the dagger—the weapon capable of ending Alcina Dimitrescu's immortal reign.

But before Ethan could make his move, you stepped forward, your voice trembling with resolve. "Ethan, please," you pleaded, your words a desperate plea for reason. "This isn't the way. We can find another way to end this."

But Ethan's eyes burned with determination as he reached for the dagger, his fingers closing around its hilt with a fierce intensity. "I can't let her hurt anyone else," he growled, his voice laced with a steely resolve.

With a surge of adrenaline, you lunged forward, your hands grappling with Ethan's in a desperate struggle for control. The dagger glinted ominously in the moonlight as the two of you fought for possession, each movement a flurry of desperation and determination.

But despite your best efforts, Ethan's strength proved too great, and with a swift motion, he wrenched the dagger free from your grasp. Time seemed to stand still as the blade gleamed in the moonlight, its deadly edge poised to strike.

As Ethan gripped the dagger tightly in his hand, his eyes blazed with determination as. "You're standing in the way, of me and my daughter!" he spat, his voice thick with anger and resolve.

However, you refused to back down, your own voice trembling with emotion as you pleaded with him.

"Ethan, please," you begged once more, the desperation evident in your tone.

Ethan's gaze hardened as he raised the dagger, the moonlight casting eerie shadows across his face. "I can't take any risks," he growled, his grip tightening on the weapon. "Not when my daughter's life is on the line."

"No!" you cried out, your voice a desperate plea as you lunged forward once more, your hands outstretched in a futile attempt to stop him. But it was too late.

With a sickening thud, the dagger found its mark, sinking deep into your chest with a cruel finality. Pain lanced through your body like a thousand fiery needles as you stumbled backwards, your vision swimming with darkness before you sunk to the ground with a loud cry.

Ethan didn't get any time to react as your fiancé stormed into the tower and saw you sitting on the floor, your form going limp, a primal roar of anguish tore from her throat. The man-thing quickly backed off as your lady rushed to your side, she dropped to her knees. She cradled you in her arms, tears welled in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," you managed weakly, your voice cracking with pain.

"No, my dear," Alcina whispered, her voice trembling with sorrow. "I should be the one apologizing. I have failed to protect you, my daughters, everything." Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving trails of mascara in their wake.

You reached out with trembling fingers, desperate to brush away the tears cascading down your lady's cheeks, her sorrow etched into every line of her face.

"Don't cry, m-m'lady," you whispered, your voice barely a tremulous murmur, weighted with your own heartache.

Your touch was a fleeting caress against her skin, a feeble attempt to soothe the anguish that threatened to consume her. But in that moment, as you gazed into her tear-filled eyes, you knew that your words were not enough to ease the pain that gnawed at her soul.

As she felt your breathing grow faint, panic surged through her.

"No, Y/n!" she cried out, desperation lacing her voice. "Stay with me. We can be together, marry, have children! Please."

Her voice rose, desperation lacing every syllable, as she pleaded with you to hear her final words, her heart breaking with each passing moment as your life slipped away from her grasp.

“I-“

As you attempted to respond to your lady's desperate pleas as best you could, a painful, bloody cough erupted from your lips, and you quickly covered your mouth with your elbow, earning more tears from your lady as she watched helplessly.

You yearned desperately for the chance to live another day, if only to be by her side for a little longer.

"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, 'Cina," you murmured, your voice fading away.

Your eyelids grew heavy, but you fought desperately against the urge to succumb to sleep, clinging to consciousness for her sake.

“I-I can’t…” You weakly held her hand.

But despite your best efforts, you could no longer hold on.

"I l-love you," you breathed out one last time, the words barely a whisper as darkness enveloped you.

As you went fully limp in her arms, your lady’s heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the tower as she held you close, her grip tightening as if trying to hold onto you forever.

Meanwhile, he stood by, a silent witness to the tragedy he had brought upon you all.

But as her teary eyes shifted to the figure of Ethan Winters, her eyes narrowed with a fierce resolve. She gently set your down before, with a single, fluid motion, she rose to her feet, her elegant form now radiating with a deadly grace.

"You will pay for this," she growled, her voice low and menacing as she advanced towards Ethan. Alcina's rage burned like a wildfire, driving her onwards with a relentless fury.

With a primal snarl, she lunged forward, her nails elongating into razor-sharp claws as she seized Ethan by the throat. Her other gloved hand wrapped around his neck as the scent of blood filled the air. She tightened her grip, her eyes blazing with a feral intensity.

"You thought you could defeat me?" she hissed, her voice dripping with contempt. "You thought you could take everything from me and walk away unscathed?"

Ethan, fueled by desperation and the relentless drive to protect his daughter, fought back with a ferocity born of desperation. With a surge of strength, he desperately tried to stab your fiancé with the dagger.

Yet, as the dagger pierced her flesh, it proved futile. Her skin swiftly regenerated, just as it had before, within mere seconds.

The last Dimitrescu's eyes widened in shock, her expression shifting into a mask of fury, a silent condemnation of the consequences wrought by Ethan's actions.

In that instant, a surge of realization swept through Ethan: the poison on the dagger had rubbed off onto you when he struck you.

Barely giving him time to process the gravity of his actions, with a swift motion, she tore open Ethan's chest, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh with a sickening squelch.

As Ethan's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, he gasped out, "Stop... please..."

She paid no heed to his pleas, her grip unyielding as she ripped his still-beating heart from his chest with a savage snarl. Blood sprayed across the tower, painting the walls in a macabre tapestry of crimson as Ethan's lifeless form crumpled to the ground.

With a triumphant light in her eyes, Alcina held Ethan's heart aloft, her eyes ablaze with a fierce satisfaction. "No one," she declared, her voice echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap, "no one will ever take my beloved from me again."

And as the echoes of her words faded into the silence, she turned her gaze to you, her heart heavy with sorrow.

He had already taken you, he had taken your life.

For though you were gone, your memory would live on within her, a beacon of light in a world consumed by darkness. Your lady could only sit beside your lifeless body, her heart breaking as she clung to your side, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh, my sweet girl, why did you do this?" she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow and disbelief.

The days that followed were a bleak procession of solitude and sorrow for your fiancé. The once-grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu echoed with emptiness, each footstep a haunting reminder of the absence that weighed heavily on her heart.

Alcina retreated into the depths of her chambers, the shadows embracing her like old friends as she mourned the loss of you and her beloved daughters. The air grew heavy with the weight of her grief, each breath a struggle against the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume her as the maids watched their mistress slowly lose herself.

The grandeur of her surroundings felt hollow and meaningless, a cruel mockery of the life that had once thrived within these walls. The portraits of her daughters gazed down at her with empty eyes, their faces frozen in eternal beauty—a painful reminder of all that had been lost.

But it was the silence that was the most unbearable—the absence of your laughter, your voice, your presence. Each moment stretched out into eternity, each heartbeat a relentless march towards an uncertain future without you by her side.

In the depths of her despair, the dragoness found herself grappling with emotions she had long buried beneath a facade of strength and stoicism. She questioned her worth as a mother, as a ruler, as a woman burdened with the weight of centuries of loneliness and longing.

With each passing day, she vowed to honor your memory, to carry you with her always.

—

Masterlist

[thefanficmonster]

Resident Evil Masterlist

* - Fluff

⨀ - Angst

Full-length Fics:

The Queen and her Guardian (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Just a Legend (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

Snowman (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Nothing to worry about (Ethan Winters & Reader) ⨀*

Weakness (Karl Heisenberg & Child!Reader) ⨀*

Dark Magic (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Bloody Jealousy (Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader) *

Enough Said (Rose Winters & OC) *

Beyond Death (Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader) ⨀

Vulnerability (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

There you are (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *⨀

Finally, you're back (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

Mission (Ethan Winters & OC) *

Sounds Promising (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

Stargazing (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Beneath the surface (Chris Redfield x OC) ⨀*

Partner (Ethan Winters x Reader) ⨀*

Deal (Jill Valentine x OC) *

Not a Weapon (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

Best thing (he lost) (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀

Worthy (Chris Redfield x OC) *

What happens in the gym...(Chris Redfield x OC) ⨀*

Vendetta (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *

Regretting (Chris Redfield x OC) *

Innocent Life (Ethan Winters & Child!Reader) ⨀

Soldier First (Chris Redfield x Reader) ⨀

Heroism (Ethan Winters & Reader) ⨀

No Mistake (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *

New Life (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Fated (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *

Headcanons:

Karl Heisenberg x reader who suffers from nightmares ⨀*

Karl Heisenberg x multilingual reader *

Karl's love language - annoyance *

Protective Karl Heisenberg ⨀*

Touch starved Karl Heisenberg *

Opposites attract (Karl Heisenberg x reader) *

Karl x Child-free reader *

Karl x *ahem* well-endowed reader *

Tipsy Romance (Karl Heisenberg x reader) *

Karl with an emotionless s/o *

Karl Heisenberg romantic headcanons *

For Margaret ⨀

Karl x injured s/o ⨀*

Karl x shy s/o *

Karl has a nightmare ⨀

Comforting Karl Heisenberg ⨀

Seeing his mutation for the first time ⨀*

Finding out the truth about Heisenberg ⨀*

Being Karl's adopted child *⨀

Insecurities (Karl x reader) ⨀*

The loss of a loved one (Karl x reader) ⨀

Ethan Winters x pregnant reader ⨀

Arguing with Heisenberg ⨀

Jealous Heisenberg ⨀*

Heisenberg with an introverted s/o *

The love story of life and death (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

The Lords as parents *

Mythical (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

Life Hardships (Heisenberg x reader) ⨀*

Darkness (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

Heisenberg's Family ⨀*

Heisenberg with a pregnant s/o *

Wine Woes (Heisenberg x reader) *

Single dad Heisenberg *

Mithanberg Headcanons *

Chris Redfield x injured s/o ⨀*

Heisenberg comforting his s/o ⨀*

Heisenberg with a jumpy s/o *

Heisenberg with a smoker s/o *

Single dad Heisenberg with a newborn *

Chris Redfield with plus-size s/o *

Heisenberg x non-binary reader *

Lady D with an s/o that is close with her daughters *

Enemies to lovers with Heisenberg *

Fluffy headcanons for Donna *

Ethan Winters x injured s/o ⨀

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Her Special Maid

Prologue Chapter~

Request:No

Chapter: Prologue

Warning: An unnecessarily indepth description of how to make bread the medieval way, not much else

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu

A/N:I plan on making this into a series, I’m not to sure how it will go but fuck it, I have it taking place about a full year before anything with Ethan even begins to enter the question though so that’s why there will be little to no mention of him

A/N 2: This is a prologue so bare with it please!

Directory: Prologue (you are here), Chapter 1

You’re life in the village is by no means a hard one, Mother Miranda had blessed the village well and you and your family are devout to her and the four lords she appointed to help sustain the village. As a child, you had often wondered about the large castle that stood strong and resolute beyond the village, even more so about those who lived in it. You had read the tales of princesses and royalty living in buildings like this, however no one would answer you when you asked about it, they would just steer you away from it with weary looks cast towards the grandiose building.

As you grew older, you grew bolder and wandered closer to it, as if testing the castle to tell what secrets it held that kept everyone so on edge. Any time you could, you would sneak away from your duties in the house to venture further and further out, and that was when you met your first Lycan up close and personal. You had fled home unharmed but severely afraid. After that, the castle interested you much less.

It wasn’t until you fell ill with an affliction that no doctor could cure, that you first got a glimpse of what truly took home in the castle. You had been laying in bed running a fever and in and out of a stupor, when the sound of a carriage could be heard passing by. Your mother roused you from bed and forced you to stand beside your father as two carriages passed by. The windows to the carriage were heavily curtained but a pale white hand had reached out from behind them and you swore you saw golden eyes staring right back at you, but your father pressed your head down nearly taking your sick body to the ground.

After this, your curiosity had once again been piqued by the strange castle. If only to keep you from going closer to the castle, your mother told you it was where one of the four lords of the village lived, and that she had a penchant for taking young girls. You assumed this was true for the lost part, the last bit seeming more like something you tell to a child instead of a teen, however you were satisfied with they answer gave. As the years flew and your mother grew weak, you had to focus on taking over the small bakery your family ran. You learned the tricks of the trade out of a large recipe book that had been passed down from generation to generation filled and crammed with different kind of recipes, the alterations made, the exact rations, and everything else anyone aspiring to take of the business would need to know.

One morning,while you are trudging through the snow, you find a small box with a simple lock keeping it closed. Not wanting the snow to damage it or someone else to take it, also being curious yourself as to what is in it, you take it.You continue on your way back to the bakery and set it in your room in a raggedy but clean towel to dry so the wood doesn’t become soggy and damage the inner contents of the box. Now that you’ve set it down it’s clear to you that this is no ordinary jewllery box or otherwise. It’s ornatley decoratated and has a crest you’ve never seen before. Silver pegs at the bottom in each corner of the base stand the box up and pop against the deep dark slightly red of the wood. The wood it;s self is nicely glossed and clearly well cared for, however the dust in places that had not been disturbed by the snow and cloth shows that it’s old. You take a small handkerchief and wipe away the dust before inspecting it further.Silver vines with leaves trail up the lock which is split in two pieces to allow the box to open.Rumaging through a couple of drawers you finally find a old bobby pin your mother used to pin up your hair when you were a child, upon finding you slide it in and jiggle it around finding the right spot until you hear the click. As you open it, the gleam of the candle light reflecting off of what must be a pure silver locket slightly blinds you. It’s heavy in your hand and the locket it’s self is even heavier than the chain. Curiosity gets the better of you once more, and you snap the locket open. Inside is a worn picture of a beautiful woman with perfectly curled black hair, dark lipstick, and a gorgeous white dress, beneath and on either side of her are younger ladies who must be the womans daughters. None of them aside for the girl with the lightly brighter hair had a smile on her face, even then it was barely there. Feeling guilty for taking something with a clear sentimental value, you shut it and replace it in the box as it was, before shutting the box which automatically locks with a click.

You set it in a special drawer of your dresser, and head out tying up your hair to begin baking for the day, after all you were already behind on the bread that needed to be baked and if you didn’t have enough for the day you’de have to make more mid-way through which is no small feat. The day is relatively uneventful as you go about your daily routine, you take the flower you had bought from Mr.Bruner the week before and add water and bear to it along with a little yeast and begin to knead it.After thirty minutes you let it set working on several more large batches before shaping it into loaves of bread. You set out a stone slab over the fire and set several loaves down waiting for them to cook. This process is repeated from the point the sun is peeking up from the horizon, to the time it is placed a quarter of the way in the sky. The smell of fresh if slightly stale bread floods the house as well as the noses of passersby in the village. It isn’t as if you have much competition in such a small village, your family is the only bakery in it after all. With the bread done and baked, your younger brother takes to selling and keeping an eye on the front as you head back into your room to stare at the box. What if you were accused of stealing it from someone in the village? Who do you know would even have money enough to have something like this made? A thought passes your mind and you, for a moment, contemplate it before making the decision to see the merchant everyone had been to, aside from yourself. Running a bakery with a sick mother is stressful enough as it is so you never had time for anything not already planned out.

You have a bit of free time now, and he was on a path you liked to walk when you weren’t so weary of the Castle and haven't had the time to walk until now. You slide on your thicker boots and a cloak before leaving the back door and walking down the dirt path along the tree line. Here, most of the people in the village couldn’t see behind the line of houses and question where you are going. It was better this way, no one in the village has anything even remotely close to this value and the picture would give away that it doesn’t belong to you. A caravan comes into view near the front of the castles at the corner where the two dirt roads meet. As you stop in front of it, the doors swing open and a large man kicks his bare feet out pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Well hello there! I trust you are the baker's daughter, what brings you so close to the castle? Is it me, perchance?” The Duke greets you, though you are easily distracted by the trinkets on either door he had opened as the clink.

“Miss?” He calls out to you again an amused smile on his face as you look at his wares with blatant curiosity and wonder. Hearing this, you snap your eyes up at him and shake yourself out for the distracted daze you were in.

“My apologies, yes I’m here for you. I found this box,” you pause and take the box from its cloth confines, “have you seen anything like it?”

Immediately his interest is piqued and he scoots forward leaning down to gently take it from your hands and inspect it further. His eyes widen and his lips curl into a grin as he sets it back down.

“Oh no, I’ve never seen something like this…but I do know who it belongs to,” When he says this your eyes lift back to him from the box where they once were. He leans back into his seat before rocking forward to peek around the doors of his home, an arm pointing to the castle before the two of you.

“The Lady Dimitrescu, that box most certainly belongs to her.I’ve only seen products from her castle use such ornate silver designs. And the crest, is hers.”

Hearing this, you turn to look at th castle, what you thought was fantastical and large from afar, is imposing and intimidating now as it looms over you. This would be a place wear one of Mother Miranda’s appointed lords would stay. Could you maybe leave it at the doorstep, or give it to him and have it returned to her that way? The thought of entering the large castle had once entertained and excited you but now it fills you with dread. What if she thought you stole it? Your mother had told you that young ladies went missing to the castle many times , and that your best friend was suspected to have been taken there as well.

“Do you plan to give it to her yourself?” The Duke questions, a brow raised, that amused smile never quite leaving his face as he watches you.

“Y-yes, it’s only right it’s returned to her…” Even as you say it, your legs seem to dread the thought of moving closer. The Lord were made to protect the village, surely one wouldn’t harm you…right?

You shake your fear from you, your father had always told you that being a coward even as a woman would lead you nowhere in life. You turn to the Duke and thank him for his help, before walking on shaking legs towards the door of the castle. Underneath the terror and anxiety, your beating heart quickens for another reason, your strides quicken and you bite you lip to hold back the excited smile that twitches at your lips. Even through the fear, you might be able to enter a castle. A real life castle, and one that you had always hoped to enter. Mother had always warned that your childish curiosities would get you hurt, and you pray to Miranda that she is wrong. In no time at all, your eager legs have carried you through the snow to the door of the castle, and you give a timid if excited knock. After a few moments, your apprehension grips you, and you think to leave it at the door. Just as you turn around, the massive doors open and the warmth of the inside beckons you. Against your better judgment, you walk through the large doors which quickly shut behind you.

End note: Let me know what you all think it would be really appreciated

Total Word Count: 1959 words

[syluscore]

In God You Trust

~mutant! Chris Redfield x undercover! Reader~

What if instead of Lady Dimitrescu, it was a 10 foot tall Chris Redfield. And you were pretending to be a nun to investigate the weird village? (This one is based on a request from @hipsterteller ! Thanks for requesting!)

Word count: 2466

Content warnings: dub-con, basically kidnapped by chris, degrading, mean chris, spanking with belt, reader praying (during sex as well), fingering, massive cock, p in v sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, reader crying n sobbing

!!!!!!THIS BLOG IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!!!!!!

“What are you running from?” His gravelly voice has you shaking more than the cold air on your nude body. 

You lay on the freezing stone floor in nothing but knee high socks, underwear, and your rosary. Your habit is nowhere to be found. 

You bring your knees in as closely as you can manage to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. It does nothing to preserve any body warmth you have left, but at least it helps cover the sensitive skin of your chest and tummy.

His footsteps come even closer. “Or,” he stops right in front of you, nudging you with his dirty boot, “What are you running to? What are you looking for, little girl?”

He tsks as you still refuse to speak to him, or even look at him. He has to be nearly ten feet tall, there’s no way he’s human. There’s no fucking way he isn’t involved in the very shit you were sent to this small village to investigate. But you can’t let him catch on to you; can’t let him fish out your true identity. All he can perceive of you is that you’re some sweet nun who chose to come out here to spread the word to the less than fortunate people of this village.

Definitely not here to investigate all the weird disappearances and cult shit going on. No. You know nothing about that. Nothing at all.

He squats down, grabbing both of your heels in one of his massive hands. He pulls your knees out from your chest, causing you to gasp as the cold air once again hits your exposed skin. 

“Answer me. And do it quickly, I’m running out of patience with you.” 

You crane your neck to meet his eyes, “I don’t know. I just wanna spread the word of Jesus Christ-”

“Bullshit!” He cuts you off. He grabs your upper arms and pulls you to your feet with little effort. You thought he’d stop there, but then your feet leave the ground and he’s storming off with you, nothing but a ragdoll in his hands. 

You try to reach up, try to grab his hands that are painfully gripping your arms, but it’s no use. He’s so unreasonably strong and part of you is scared–terrified. But another part of you, maybe an even larger part, is so proud that you found what you were looking for. 

That’s the thing about being in the eye of the storm, right inside the dragon's mouth. You can see it all so clearly and the surrealism surrounds you, the all encompassing wonder. You’ve found everything you've been looking for. You’ve found the source of it all. But it’s also the most dangerous part and very few ever make it out of these places alive. 

You’re thrown on the biggest bed you’ve ever seen. You guess it makes sense, a massive man needs a massive bed to lay in. Big pillows to rest his big head. 

“Did you go to Catholic school?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, thrown off by his question. “Uh-well, yes. Of course.”

He chuckles at your tone. You know how obvious your lies are coming out, but what can a girl do? You’re not fucking confessing. 

“Then you know how they punish little liars–what they do to bad girls.”

“You’re gonna punish me?” Your eyes are wide and all you can do is stare up at him. 

He fiddles with the belt in his pants loops. “Lying is a sin. And you’re lying to me. Am I supposed to let your sins go unpunished? Are you above all that? Above redemption?”

“Of course not, but-”

He rips his belt from the loops, folding it in half and quickly snapping it. The sound of the snapping leather has you jumping. 

“What are you going to do with that?”

He rolls his neck, shaking his shoulders before looking down at you again. “I think you know exactly what I’m going to do.”

“No, I-”

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Your jaw drops, going slack at the command. “What? No! I’m not-”

“Fucking bend over!” He yells at you, grabbing the hair on the back of your head, pulling it harshly. You have no choice but to follow the way he leads you. Either way, he’s going to get you into the position he wants and you’d rather not be completely rolled over by your hair.

“There we go, just like that. God would want you to attest for your sins, hm? Pray to him while you take your punishment.”

Before you even have the chance to protest, the belt cracks down harshly against your ass and you’re screaming out in pain. You can’t even get your scream fully out before it connects with your ass again.

Your hands grip the cotton sheets beneath you. You flinch as you feel something connect with your ass, but it’s much gentler and softer this time. This time, it’s not his belt, but his hand caressing your ass in comforting circles.

“Go on, little one. Pray to him. Let him know you accept his punishment.” 

You take a deep breath before forcing out the words, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all of my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.”

His belt snaps against you again. The skin feels fiery hot and stings deep into your flesh. Tears already slowly start to fall from your eyes. You bite your lip to keep from sobbing out.

“Why’d you stop? Keep going. If you want forgiveness, you must ask for it.” His voice is almost comforting; a complete contradiction to his actions. 

“For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.”

Another slap of his belt has your brain going foggy. You can barely hold yourself up on your hands and knees. 

“That’s it. Keep going for me.”

You clear your throat, somehow trying to convince it to hold back the sob that’s desperately trying to break free. 

“Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight;” Crack. “So you are right in your verdict and justified in your judgment.” Crack. “Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me. Yet-” Crack. “Yet you desired faithfulness even in the womb; you taught me wisdom in that secret place.”

You focus on the prayer you remember from your short time in the small church in the village. You can’t let your mind focus on the excruciating pain on your ass. 

“Baby,” he calls out to you with the pet name and it has your immediate attention. “Pause for a second. Do you feel that?” He wiggles his fingers that you hadn’t even realized were inside of you. “Feel how wet you are? You always get wet like this when spanked?”

Your face heats up. You weren’t paying attention to him at all, and he somehow managed to get your panties down to your knees and two massive fingers inside of you.

“You like that, huh? I felt this cunt clench around my fingers.” He starts to slowly move his fingers in and out of you, accompanied by a loud squelching noise that you can’t believe is coming from you. It has you whimpering. “Finish your prayer. Unless you think you require more punishment because I am more than happy to provide that for you-”

You cut him off with your continued prayer. “Cleanse me, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than sn-ow.” Your last word ends on a moan as he continues fingering you. “And- fuck, And let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed re-fuck, rejoice. Mm. Hide your–your face from my s-sins and, and blot out my iniquity. Cre-eate in me a–a pure, oh fuck, a pure heart. Oh my god.”

You completely lose sight of your prayer as he slowly pushes his dick into your wet hole. Your pussy squeezes tight around him as he stretches you out further than you’ve ever been before. All you can do is let out breathless whimpers and whines as you try to take it.

“Already struggling? Baby I’m just now getting past the tip.”

Your head whips around, looking back behind you at where he’s connecting the two of you. “Holy fucking shit, that’s not going to fit in-” you can’t finish your sentence. Your jaw goes slack as he forces more of himself inside of you.

Big man, big muscles, big bed, big cock. It’s unreasonable. You’re as scared as you are wet, which is a fucking lot. 

“Finish your prayer.” You’re so blissed out you don’t process his words. Until he’s smacking your sore ass with his hand and you hiss out at the pain. “I said, finish your fucking prayer.”

“Fuck! Okay, um, fuck. Uh, Do not cast m-me from your presence or ta-ake your Holy, shit, Ho-oly Spirit from me. Restore to me… Restore, restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me, uh, grant me a willing spirit to, fucking shit, to sustain me. Fuck!” 

You struggle through your prayer as he slowly stuffs more and more of himself in you. It’s so much that it’s painful. It’s so much that it’s so fucking good. His cock touches every last centimeter inside of you, the head feeling like it’s all the way up in your stomach. And he can’t even fit the whole thing inside of you. How could he ever fit his cock inside of anybody?

He slowly, painfully, slides his cock from you before thrusting it back inside of you. The prior stretch does little to nothing to aid in his first thrust. He may as well have not even put the thing in before.

“Oh my god! Fuck, it hurts. Fuck, it hurts. God, fuck.”

His free hand snakes up your chest and wraps around your throat, pulling your head back to him. Bringing you close enough so he can speak directly into your ear. 

“You have such a filthy mouth, don’t you? And I’m supposed to believe this is the mouth of a sweet, innocent, holy woman of God? A chaste little nun? Please.” His voice is condescending, but you can’t even protest. Can’t even think with his inhuman cock buried so deeply inside of you.

“Squeezing me so tight. Squeezing me even tighter when I talk to you,” he chuckles at you. “See? Fuck, you get so tight whenever I speak to you. This pussy gets so fucking wet, just like a fucking virgin. But the way you take my big cock? You’re no fucking virgin. No inexperienced nun could take me like this.”

He reaches around you, bringing his fingers to your swollen clit. He lightly runs his big fingers over it with no effort. He’s big enough to reach every last inch of you with no strain. 

You whimper out at the pleasure, but it doesn’t last long. He starts slapping your sensitive little clit and it has you continuously whining and shaking beneath him.

“Of course you like that. You’re nothing but a slut, aren’t you? A naughty fucking whore who just loves to be fucked. And there it is again. The more I talk to you, the tighter this pussy gets. Tell me. Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how much you like when I degrade you.”

“I-I,” you can’t speak as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can’t think of words. You couldn’t tell him if you wanted to.

“Come on. You can do it. Say Your cock feels so good in my slutty pussy. I love being called a worthless little whore. I take your big cock like a professional, sir.”

He returns to rubbing little circles on your hot, throbbing clit and that’s all it takes. Your cunt milks his cock as you cum around him. You can feel the wetness slipping down your thighs. 

Before you can come down for your high, his hand leaves your neck and grips your jaw, smashing your cheeks together and forcing your mouth open.

“Did I fucking say you could cum, you dumb girl. I told you to tell me how good it feels. Tell me!” His voice booms. His last words take on a supernatural deep tone. It has your mind clearing and fear taking control. 

“It feels so good! Your cock feels so good! I didn’t mean to cum; it just felt so good. I’m so sorry. Please, please don’t hurt me.”

He laughs loudly at your words before releasing your face, pushing your chest down into the sheets. He forces his cock impossibly deep into you. You’re screaming as he rams into you over and over and over.

“Don’t act all innocent now. I know you can take it, you dirty fucking whore.” His voice is loud as he talks over your screams. You’re not sure if they’re screams of pleasure or pain; probably both.

He brings his fingers to your clit again and you try to push them away. Try everything in your weak body’s power to get him away from the sensitive nerves, but you’re useless against him.

“Come on, baby. I know you can cum again.”

And you’re not  sure how you’re even able to, but you do. You’re screaming as you cream his cock; your knees giving out beneath you. You lay flat on your stomach and it doesn’t stop him–doesn’t even deter him for a minute as he continues his hard thrusts. 

You swear you’re going to blackout. You feel your vision start to black out around the corners before he finally stops. 

You lay in his sheets a trembling, crying mess. You’re sobbing deeply, wreaking havoc throughout your entire body. 

Your sobs slowly turn to sniffles and you finally open your eyes and look around. You’re still on your stomach and the man is still straddling your hips. 

“S-sir?”

“You can call me Chris, baby.”

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I get up?”

“Can you answer a question for me first?” You hum in compliance to his question. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

You’re once again scrunching your eyes in confusion; an almost constant state for you. “I don’t understand.”

“You should be proud of yourself. You found me, baby.” He licks the side of your neck. You try to turn and face him, but his hand covers your mouth and yanks your head back. Baring your neck completely for him.

You scream into his hand as he bites harshly into your neck, drawing blood. Almost like he’s drinking your blood. Is he drinking your blood?

~masterlist~

consider supporting me on ko-fi

[blood-red-ocean]

Alcina Dimitrescu X Sick (Fem) Reader

As requested by @alcinaslittlemaid! I hope you feel better soon ♥️

(I wrote this on my phone at volunteering so please excuse any typos/formatting/grammatical errors! I'll fix it at home if I need to.)

Genre: Fluff/Comfort

Category: F/F

Relationships: Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader

Word count: Approx. 1000 words.

Summary: You've come down with one hell of a flu, and you find yourself plodding to Alcina's quarters for comfort. Fluffiness and soft Alcina care ensues.

The Lady's bed dwarfed you as you lay in the centre of it, drowning in blankets and your own misery. When you'd awakened that morning, you felt like you'd been used as a chew toy for a Lycan, every muscle and joint in your body aching. You barely remember waking up in your own bed and miserably trodding out of your room and down the halls, blanket wrapped around you as a cape - what you did remember was your surprise when you entered the Lady's chambers, crawled into her bed, and were met with no strict words or resistance, only with an arm draped over you and a surprisingly soft voice. 

"Oh, draga... You truly aren't faring well, are you?" She had said, her voice breaking through the sickness-induced brain fog and prompting you to nuzzle into her embrace. She chuckled softly and you vaguely mentally registered her brushing some of your hair away from your face, tutting as her fingertips brushed your forehead. "You're positively burning up... We can't have you roaming the Castle in this state, now can we?"

You shook your head and coughed a little, wincing as your lungs protested the action. The Lady had tucked the numerous blankets around you as you hid your face your face in her embrace, her fingertips alternating between running through your hair and running up and down your spine. She hummed thoughtfully, murmuring to herself as you slipped in and out of a light doze. 

"Miranda, maybe...?" She paused. "No, Miranda wouldn't work. Donna, perhaps... Draga mea?" She was speaking to you now, and you didn't lift your head, just made a small sound of acknowledgement. "I need to retrieve something. It's of... Vital importance. Be a brave little thing and stay here, yes?"

If you had been more present, you would have noticed the lilt in her voice, and pieces together that she wasn't going to retrieve something for herself. As it was, you were exhausted and your mind was consumed by brain fog, and you could only whimper as she pulled away from you. She shushed you and caressed your cheek, whispering to you. "Do not fret, Iubita mea. I will return before you realise I've left. Be a good girl and stay here, for me."

And stay there is exactly what you did. The blankets covering you were heavy and soothing, the scent of the Lady's perfume making your senses come alight - or at least as well as they could, with your nose blocked. The crackling from the fire in the corner echoed around the room, gently lulling you back to sleep every time you woke up. Your sense of time was shaky in your sick state, and you weren't sure how long it had been since the Lady left the room. Just as you were thinking maybe you should drag yourself from the blankets and back to your own bed, the door swung open and the familiar sound of her heels on the hardwood floor blessed your ears. The sound came closer and there was a shuffling, followed by the bed dipping beside you. You distantly felt her hands patting the pile of blankets on top of you gingerly, and suddenly you felt them slip under you, pulling you from your little cave. 

"Now, now," she murmured in response to your indignant grumbling. "None of that. Come here, draga." 

She pulled you into her lap, where you curled up into her, your hand gripping the collar of her nightgown to keep her there. You closed your eyes and pressed your face into her, but not before you caught a glimpse of what she had brought in with her. Beside the two of you on the bed was a wooden tray, bearing an assortment of pastries, fruits, some honey and two cups of tea. One of them looked like regular herbal tea, and the other seemed to almost shimmer. You made a confused noise in the back of your throat and looked up at her. 

"That, dragostea mea, is a concoction of Donna's own creation." She lifted the cup to her nose and inhaled deeply. The sight of the teacup in her larger than ordinary hands made you smile weakly. "It is a combination of healing herbs, some roots, and some berries for sweetness. Come, draga." She held the cup to your lips and added, "It will make you feel better. You have my word."

You placed your hand over hers and obediently sipped the steaming liquid, blinking in surprise as the mixture of spices and sweet, tart berries exploded on your tongue. You kept drinking, the Lady rubbing your back and murmuring to you in Romanian as you did so. When the teacup was empty she pulled it away and replaced it with a sweet pastry, which you nibbled on thankfully. True to her word, you started to feel better, your mind clearing along with your sinuses. You realised with renewed clarity where you were and you blushed deeply, attempting to sit up. 

"I-- Thank you for looking after me, my Lady. But I--"

"What did I tell you about calling me that, prințesa mea? You can call me by my name. It's okay." 

"Alcina," Using her name felt powerful, intimate. "I really should be returning to my quarters, I should rest--"

"Nonsense." Alcina held you closer to her, her grip around you tighter. She smiled sweetly at you. "You have a raging fever, ursuleț. No, no, I really do think you need to stay here. You need to be properly taken care of." 

You didn't have it in you to argue, or even think about leaving her arms. You closed your eyes and let yourself slump against her, and you felt yourself drifting off again as she ran her fingers through her hair and rocked you, singing a lullaby in soft Romanian - singing you softly to sleep. 

[wintersangelic]

If I Loved You Less - A Cassandra Dimitrescu Angst Fic

"Cassandra should've known that a Dimitrescu falling in love with a human would never end well. Alcina learned that lesson the hard way."

Chapter: 1/5 ♡ Word Count: 3.6K ♡ Rating: T ♡ AO3 Link

[the-bar-sinister]

There was a certain level of pain that Karl Heisenberg was in every day of his life. It was his constant companion. As far as he knew, it was a simple fact of his being alive. It was a simple fact of what had been done to his body.

The pain waxed and waned but it never fully departed. There were herbs from Donna that helped but they dulled his mind and sent him to the land of the half dead.

Despite everything, Karl wanted to live. He wanted to live even though it hurt, even though it was hard.

He wanted to live, and he wanted to be in charge of his own life. And so he fought through the pain. He lived with the pain. He savored it. He trusted it.

Being in pain meant that he was still fighting. 

Karl Heisenberg dreamed of a body that didn't ache, and dreamed of a life where he wasn't a slave and a prisoner. But he would endure both. 

He would endure them as long as he had to. He would drink the joy in there was to be had from them, and he would come out the other side.

-

AO3 link

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles: Karl Heisenberg- Avoid You

You've been ignoring Karl. Like not talking to him during meeting, not laughing along with his horrible jokes, daring yourself to not look at him. It's rubbing him wrong. For weeks now, sure the two of you were close. You were close with everyone, Mother Miranda loved that about you. Her perfect new little daughter.

Alcina, Donna, and you got along with Alcina’s daughter did. Quiet banter between the two of you about flowers, and gardens that you wouldn't wait to help grow during the much warmer months.

Salvatore is like a little brother that you always wished you had. Always asking to do things with you whenever you have the time. But Karl is different, your relationship with him is just odd. Something you can't really place in your mind, or heart.

You live with him for fucks sake. Of course something had to be happeneing between the two of you. Was that one sided you wished not, but you also know Karl. He isn't about relationships, he doesn't do love. He's a loner and it just that simple. You wonder in moments when the life between the two of you becomes very domestic, if he knows how you watch him with a love that makes your heart beat so fast you swear you've died and come back to earth.

You wonder a lot of things, but for you to keep living you have to push him away. No more can you bare to sit with him as he works on his metal army. You can't bare to talk with him as you sit across from each other with dinner each night, so you've opted to having dinner behind your close bedroom door, staying out longer with Alcina, staying to help Donna with a new project, or helping out Mother Miranda and Salvatore.

Anything you can do to push away the feeling that has taken root in the bottom of your stomach. The sicking love that makes you have butterflies whenever Karl looks up at you with that damn cigar tucked between his thick lips.

Karl has noticed, more then noticed. He doesn't understand why all of the sudden you were here and now you'd rather not talk with him, spend time with him.

Hell you're picking others over him. At first he's boiling with anger. He feels like he's not worthy of you, he's gotten so used to your constant loyalty to him.

He feels you drifting away from him, and he's conflicted by it. He worries it's something he's done. He notices the far off look on your face at meetings. He see's how you can't bare to look at him, or talk to him.

Karl can only go on like this for so long before everything just cracks, and the need for answers comes out fast, angry, and rather unplanned.

He catches you when you come into the factory after another night spend not here, not at home. Karl had waited for you, stayed up and it wasn't like he wasn't already awake. Never ever really getting good sleep nowadays.

"Y/n?" He says your name, and it makes you stop in your tracks. You turn on your heels unable to look at him so early in the morning. You were just coming here for a shower and a new set of clothes before you had to get over to Mother Miranda lab. You bit your bottom lip the feelings in the bottom of your chest starting to bubble up. Your silence prompts Karl to walk towards you.

"Y/n, what's…" A rough hand taking hold of your bicep. His large hand wraps around it fully. Middle finger and thumb touching each other as he whips you around to look at him. For the first time since you arrived at the factory. "Please just talk to me… I can feel the fuckin' tension in the goddamn air." His voice is thick, purr like.

Grey eyes asking for something anyting you can give him. He'll take it even if it's the worst of the worst. If it ends with you walking away from the factory forever walking away from him forever. He'll just grin and bare it. You think of words, anything to say to him, but nothing of worth comes out. Just blubber, "Karl I… you have to know… I'm just…" He stares down at you. "Fine… don't tell me." Karl is acting like a child and he knows it, so do you.

He drops his hold on your bicep and just looks at you. There's a sort of sadness you've never seen in the grey eyes before. "I don't know how to… Karl things would just be…" Your thoughts are scattered in the wind as Karl realizes a few things. He's more confused then he's ever been. By his mind, and his heart. Karl also realizes that you won't ever say the truth until he gives you no other option.

"Why Y/n, just why have you been avoiding me? Huh, you don't even… you used to spend all your time with me. You just picked up and left." There's a sadness in his voice. His normal bombastic voice that echos on the steel walls. It breaks your heart, crushes it in a million tiny pieces.

There's concern, and sadness etched into the strong jawline, and lines in Karl face. You want to hold back your thoughts, but you can't bare their weight anymore. You take a deep breath Karl watches you like a hawk. Mustering up strength and gusto. "BECAUSE…" You start, Karl cocks a brow, "Because why, Y/n?" Karl coaxes you, "FOR FUCKS SAKE KARL, BECAUSE I THINK… FUCK I THINK I'M FALLING FOR YOU, OKAY?" You didn't mean for it to come out as a scream, or to shout at him.

"That's why I've been…" "Avoiding me." Karl says finishing off your senetence. You nod, frustration and the weight leaving your body. You're waiting for the ending of it all for the loud voice to scream at you, but it the exact opposite that happens. Loud sounds of his boots hit the ground as he walks over to you. Grabbing you so you look at him, eye to eye. "Y/n, are you serious?" He asks, biting his own lip.

You nod, and his face controts in seconds. The seriousness changes into a love sick, cocky grin. 'Fuckin' hell then, darling why didn't you say something sooner?" You can't help the bitch face that you give him, Karl laughs. "Well if it makes it any better darlin' I like I'm fucking falling too." Karl mutters before pulling you in to his chest.

He leans down, a hand in your hair as he leans down to reach your lips. You stand on the tips of your toe just to barely get to his lips. His beard tickles your cheeks, and chin. But the kiss is life bringing, makes you tingles in the best way. And when Karl asks for entrance to your mouth you let him have it.

Completed on: 08/10/23

Posted on: 08/30/23

House Heisenberg-

[bratphilia]

HI HII

plspls tiny lil blurb abt alcina dimitrescu being possessive n slightly jealous of u bc karl hit on u ... now ur in the bedroom n she's mad n wants to make sure u remember who treats n fucks u the best ...

imagining the things she'd say n how she'd touch/tease u until ur begging n frantically promising her u want nothing to do w karl is making me 😵‍💫

i'm actually losing my mind iwantherteethonmyneckNOW

ZEE MY DARLING!!!! ANYTHING FOR YOU!!  cw ; jealousy, fingering, pussy eating, size kink

ALCINA DIMITRESCU who absolutely seethes as she watches her rat of a brother kiss your hand upon entrance to the castle. he has the audacity to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in the foyer, ruminates in the way that you blush with a flash of his incisions. she hates it. she hates him. but in that moment, the thing she hates the most is the way you flush and laugh a little too hard at his crude attempts of a joke. it frankly makes her blood boil. at dinner, heisenberg takes a seat next to you, and alcina, at the head of the table, watched with her height to her advantage as his hand wandered up your thigh. she couldn't take it anymore — the disrespect she had to endure from a stupid man flirting with her property in her own home was too fucking much. she cleared her throat, loud enough to snap both of your attentions towards her. she says your name sternly, her face conveying her point clearly, "a word after our guests have left," she says, it's not a question.

"yes," you say in a small voice, heat rising to your cheeks.

it's after dinner, after heisenberg has taken his leave, that you're on your stomach on your lady's giant bed, ass sticking up and she tuts. "since you wanted to act like one, i see it fit you're taken like a common whore," she explains.

one of alcina's giant fingers, reaching the size of a dainty, thin cock, slips in and out of you. you writhe and squirm onto the bed. you hate to admit it but if this were the "punishment" for a certain way heisenberg so much as looked at you, you would indulge in allowing him to do so more often. you buck your hips backwards to match her pace of pumping in her fingers but she simply removes them quietly. "remember your place," she tells you disappointedly. before you know it, her face is smothered in her cunt, and the stimulation is almost too much. her giant appendage fucking into you, just like her fingers, is an adequate replacement for a dick inside of you as it fucks in and out of you. it's delicious, the way her large lips wrap around your much tinier clit and her tongue methodically laves it in circles. when she feels you come close is when she pulls away. an appropriate punishment for a slut.

"if you actually want to come," she says, uncharacteristically using the crude word, "i would suggest conducting yourself in a more refined way."

[depressed-simp-writes]

h0rny hours frfr

Fade

Cassandra Dimitrescu x fem!reader

i wont apologize for marking you up, everyone needs to know who you belong to, in fact, some of them are starting to fade. lets fix that.

warnings: possessive sex, strap on use on r, marking, bondage, degradation, overstimulation

summary: when a maid gets to familiar with Cassandra's girlfriend, you, she needs to lay her claim so everyone sees who you belong to.

Cassandra was fuming, watching you and the bold maid in the corner. you two had been in the library, Cassandra cuddling you while you read to her. a maid came in to the room to clean. neither one of you paid her any attention. Until you got up to go get another book to read.

as you scoured the shelves, the maid came over "that ones pretty good" she commented looking over at the book in your hand, "yeah, its one of my favorites" you responded. Cassandra perked up at your voices eyes looking over suspicious of the maids intentions.

nothing happened for a bit as you two conversed about books. then the maid completely forgetting the predator in the room touched you. a friendly, unassuming touch, but a touch nonetheless and that was enough to enrage the woman.

she stormed over grabbing you "we're going back to my room" she said pulling you away from the maid and out of the room.

"cassie please, you did this last night and im still marked up"

"obviously not enough seeing as that bitch thinks she can touch you" she snarled finally arriving at her room pulling in and slamming the door behind you. she began pulling at your clothes ignoring your protest.

"It was nothing Cassie, everyone knows im yours, please calm down" you said trying to slow her hand as they frantically pulled at fabric. She had some anxieties about you leaving for someone better than her. you always tried to reassure her but sometimes like right now it was useless.

Cassandra finally finished undressing you and pushing you onto the bed, she gazed hungrily at your marked up body from last nights jealousy fueled fuck. marks from the week before still present.

"i wont apologize for marking you up, everyone needs to know who you belong to, in fact, some of them are starting to fade. lets fix that." she said trailing her fingers gently over the older bruises. you bit back a moan as her slender fingers lightly touched and explored your body.

she gently touched your pussy smirking "for someone who complains when i fuck you like this, you're so wet. perhaps we should skip the foreplay and see if you can just take my cock" she said flicking clit causing your hips to buck and you to whimper.

she leans over you and kisses you, her tongue slipping past your lips rubbing up against yours, you moan and try to tug on her clothes when she pins them down. "nu uh, no touching, im doing the touching rn. if you're a good little slut for me, perhaps ill let you do the same" you whine at that wanting to feel your girlfriends skin against yours, but nod nonetheless. she smirks as she gets up. going into her bedside table draw pulling out some rope and her favorite strap on, "and just to insure you do behave" she takes hold of your hands tying them together after a brief pause waiting for a sign of consent from you. once shes done your arms are tied together above your head fastened to the headboard.

she kisses you again before slipping on the harness of her strap. its very her. definitely big but not obnoxiously thick, very long though with a curve upwards and a nice deep red. settling back between you open legs she slides her fingers through your wet folds gathering your wetness and spreading it all over her cock. she moans as she does so. Cassandra is so utterly addicted to you. she runs the tip of toy through your folds casuing you to moan out and whimper. "you're all mine baby. mine" she says before slipping into your hole. both of you moaning and gasping at the act. she'll never get tired of the way she can slide so easily into you. how you well you take her, and you will never get tired of feeling her fill you up, how she stretches you to accommodate her.

she gives you a second before she starts thrusting into you. you cant hold in the sounds she pulls from you and she relishes in that fact. "i bet that whore would never make feel like i can" she groans out watch your bodies connect. she loves watching her red toy disappear into your heat, its almost enough to make her cum as she sees that white ring of yours start form at the base. "you're the most perfect slut, you just love to be used dont you, you're cumming already and ive barely touched you" she gasps out feeling you trying to keep her cock in you. she speds up holding your legs open so you dont clamp them shut as you cum.

your back arches, you pull on those damned restraints. she laughs as she leans down and gets to work marking you up, she bites on your flesh and sucks ensuring your bruises are nice and dark. she thrusts harder as your moans and whimpers gain in volume. the bed rocks under her force as she brings you to another orgasm. "c-cassie, i cant-" you gasp out as she doesn't stop. she releases the nipple she had in her mouth and laughs, "yes you can and you will, bc your mine, mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to love. mine." your eyes roll back your head as she flicks your clit while thrusting particularly hard.

once shes had her fill of marking you up and making you mess on her strap does she finally pull out. she cums herself purely at the sight of her strap covered in your slick and how your abused hole looks, twitching and clenching. she almost wants to slip back in there for one more round but you're exhausted and she's gotten it out of her system.

she cleans you up gently before slipping you both under the covers, she's so unexpectedly soft in moments like this it still makes your headspin. she kisses your forehead. "you're such a good girl for me, i love you." you snuggle into her kissing her neck as you do so. "i love you too" you said drowsiness setting in. you gave her neck one more kiss on the marks you've made on her a few days prior after she got a little to friendly with a maid, they were also starting to fade, you would fix that come morning but for now you slept. ok maybe your both just a tad bit possessive of eachother.

an: i forgot I was writing this but its finished. hope you enjoy.

[tacticaldiary]

It Was Never Supposed to Be You

Pairing: Ethan Winters x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

They’re both strung up under the eye of Lady Dimitrescu, and Ethan’s forced to watch the love of his life endure a taste of what he’s used to going through. It ignites a rage in him he didn’t know was possible. 

A/N: A reimagining of the scene where Ethan gets strung up with sickles. 

Masterlist

She doesn’t see it coming. Neither of them do. 

Screams tear out of both their throats as the three woman cackle at them, dragging them along the floor. Panicked, she struggles to get out of the grasp the blonde one has around her ankle, looking over at Ethan to get a sense of the situation. 

Her blood runs cold when she notes that he’s not being dragged by his limbs. 

There are sickles pierced through his ankles, dragging him along the floor. Blood trails on the marble floors of the castle and urgency slams into her. She had to stop this, to save them, to get them out of here and check if he was okay and find Rose and-

They’re thrown into a room, weak and gasping for breath when the towering figure arrives, looming over them with bloodstained lips and a deathly complexation. 

Ethan’s ragged breath reaches her ears as he immediately shuffle his way in front of her, extending out an arm to shield her from the new hostiles. 

She gets a closer look at him, his legs bleeding, a pool of crimson puddling beneath him. It makes her sick, seeing her boyfriend’s physical indication of such hurt. 

They had come here to find Rose after Mia had come over to visit Rose. Ethan and her had separated a year after the Louisiana incident, and he’d found happiness in somebody else, in her. Mia came over to visit Rose, but their dinner was rudely interuppted by Chris Redfield shooting her dead in the middle of dinner. She’d never get the ringing of the bullets out of her head. They were taking her away, they were taking Ethan away, and when she’d tried to defend Rose, to shield her and run, she’d been knocked out and taken as well. 

It was a horrible chain of events. Rose was gone, the village was overrun, and most importantly, four women looked down at them like they wanted to devour them. 

“Mother,” One of the women says gleefully. “We bring you fresh pray.”

“You are so very kind to me, daughters.” The tall one grins, cocking her head as if to size them up. 

“Stay behind me.” Ethan breathes, staring up at them in turn, frantically trying ot click together a plan of action. She clutches onto the back of his jacket, a small sense of comfort.

She’s fully ready to shove him out of the way and take the brunt of whatever was to be thrown at them, that much she knows. She loves this man just as much as he loves her, and it was only logical that if it came down to her life or his, she’d choose Ethan’s every time. 

Rose deserved to have a father, after all. 

She would not let that bundle of sunshine become an orphan. Not of her watch.

“Let’s have a closer look at them, shall we?” She taunts, striding closer. “Ethan Winters.” She drawls, then her eyes flick over to her. “And his lovely companion. I see you’ve escaped my foolish little brother’s games.”

“What do you want?” She spits out, feeling Ethan stiffen under her grasp. “Where’s Rose?” 

Fearless. It was one of the qualities that had drawn Ethan to her in the first place. Ready to take on anything thrown at her, she did not mind in the slightest that he had his demons. Rather, she did her best to fight them alongside him, soothing him during the rough night in a way Mia never could do, helping him through the tests and the demands of the BSAA. 

But right now that bravery instills in him a fear so potent it stuns him.

She is ignored, almost as if she had never spoken in the first place. The woman seems far too taken with Ethan, approaching him. “Let’s see how special you really are.” She sneers, clicking her fingers. 

The both of them struggle and yell in protest as two of the younger women rip her away from Ethan, off to the side, their grips cold and unrelenting as they hold her down. 

“Get the fuck away from him!” She snarls, struggling as the tall woman approaches a pale Ethan with a knife. He looks unwell, and she knows that he’s already rather weak to begin with. Always one to push forward, always insisting he take the lead and the brunt of the damage during all of their encounters. She never lets him, but he manages to protect her anyway, sustaining injuries that would have made her collapse and still pushing through anyway.

Ethan chokes out a gasp as the knife slices through his bandaged palm. She watches in horror as the woman...licks? Licks the blood off of his hand, drinking it in greedily. Sick. These people were sick. 

“Hmm. Going a little stale. I’d assume the same for the other one.” She hums thoughtfully. It makes her stomach turn. 

They go on about devouring them, who gets the first taste, but all she can focus on is Ethan, kneeling there exceptionally pale and panting, trying and failing to get himself to move, to act. 

“...later there will be enough for everyone.” The woman chuckles. “Put them up!” She orders, and before she can make sense of what the woman means, two of the girls approach Ethan with the sickles from before. 

He screams as they hook through both his hands, right through flesh and bone, lets out another choked cry as he’s yanked up by chains and strung there, gasping heavily. “Let me...Let me down!” He chokes out.

“Ethan!” She screams, voice cracking, her struggle intensifying. Shit. Shit. 

“Don’t think we forgot about you.” A voice whispers in her ear. The two women approach her, another set of sickles in hand. 

“No...no!” She yells, struggling to no avail, adrenaline pumping through her veins. 

“Get-...” Ethan coughs, voice shaky. “Stay the fuck away...away f-from her.” He spits out weakly. 

It’s not enough. 

White hot pain cuts through her hands as two sickles impale themselves through her palms. She shouts her pain and doubles over, screaming again when she’s yanked up off of her feet just like Ethan. 

It hurts. It hurts in a way she never thought any kind of pain could. Taking off of her weight, her hands feel like they’re on fire, agony coursing through her muscles. The pained sob tears out of her throat without permission as she squeezes her eyes shut. 

There’s cackling, footsteps, mumbled conversations amongst themselves, and then the click of the door shutting. 

Silence. Just two sets of labored breathing mixed with the occasional whimpers. 

“Are-are you okay?” Ethan grits out. He’s trembling, in agony, but his first thought is of whether she’s okay.

“F-fine.” She gasps out. “Have to- have to get out.” The words cut themselves off with another involuntary sob. It hurts. It really fucking hurts.

“Shit.” She hears him curse under his breath. He shakily looks up at his hands, the gears in his head turning. He swallows, seemingly coming to a decision. She can’t catch what his intentions are quick enough, because before she can protest, he draws in a long, shaky breath-

And yanks until the sickle tears right through his palm. 

His pained scream echoes out through the hall, and it makes her eyes sting with tears. “Ethan...” She gasps. “St-stop that. You’re hurting yourself.” She whimpers and squeezes her eyes shut as he ignores her, and does the same to his other hand, another sound cracking through the room. 

His body hits the floor with a sickening thump, and she can hear him trying to calm himself down, to steady his breathing while he stumbles over to her. 

“I’ve-I’ve got you.” He pants, trying to steady his voice for her. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Hands bleeding, he stumbles over to the chains spiked into the wall, holding her up. Gritting his teeth at the sharp pain that clutching his knife brings him, he wedges the blade into the mechanism and pushes down until it breaks. 

She’s weightless for a moment, and then she hits the ground. The pressure off of her hands is a relief, but the sight of them right in front of her, impaled makes her sick and dizzy. 

Hands on her shoulder, bloody and shaky, but warm and familiar. “You’re alright.” He assures her. “I’ve got you, you’re okay.” 

“There’s still in my hands.” She breathes out slowly, trying to calm herself. 

Ethan clenches his jaw and nods. “I’m gonna get them out, okay? It’ll-It’ll hurt like a bitch but we have to do it.”

She nods. There’s no way around this. She has to get them out. “Shit, okay just-just do it.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she bares her hands at him. 

Ethan guides her head to his shoulder, telling her to brace herself. Pressing her forehead to him, she nods, readying herself. 

The first sickle out makes black dots float around her vision. 

The second one out brings up the bile that’s been churning in her stomach. Leaning to the side, she vomits up the small rations they’ve eaten hours and hours ago, coughing and heaving. Ethan holds her hair out of her face, shaking just as much as she is, whispering that they were alright. 

Once she’s finished, she coughs and straightens up sluggishly, trying to catch her breath. She finds Ethan looking at her intently, watching her for a moment and she thinks she might have caught something like guilt in his soft eyes. 

Unable to stomach that, she looks away, catching sight of a green bottle propped onto the dresser. “Ethan.” She gestures to it, pulling herself to her feet with great difficulty and stumbling over to it. 

She brings the bottle to him and uncorks it, grabbing his hands to pour the miracle liquid over them, when it’s plucked straight out of her hands. 

“You first,” Ethan says shakily, not giving her a chance to protest. He pours the liquid over both of her hands in turn, making sure the wounds stitch close before letting her tug the bottle away. 

The cool liquid over his hands tears a relieved sigh out of him, the pain ebbing away and subsiding. 

For a moment, they both flex their hands, testing the function of their fingers in mutual silence, checking themselves over for how they feel. 

Then she launches herself onto him, Ethan’s arms wrapping around her waist instinctively. She kisses him urgently, quick but meaningful. 

“I thought we were going to die.” She mumbles against his lips. “Scared me to death.”

“Me too.” He admits when she pulls away. His eyes roam over her body as if scared he’d suddenly find another massive stab wound or puncture. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Me too.” She chuckles nervously. “We’re alright.” He nods in agreement.

“We’re fine.” He confirms, trying to convince both her and himself. He stands and offers her a hand, pulling her to her feet. “We have to keep going.” He says, looking around the room but keeping her hand in a firm grip, lacing their fingers together.

“Let’s go find Rose.” She agrees. “I’m setting those bitches on fire the next time I see them.”

“Agreed.” 

Requests Are Open!

(16/06/2023)

[maybegays-blog]

Ethereal Chemistry

Prologue

Lady Dimitrescu x Scientist! Reader

All Chapters

Warnings: Rushed

—

The faint hum of machinery filled the air as you worked diligently in your lab, surrounded by beakers, test tubes, and the soft glow of monitors. Your latest project was coming along nicely.

Just as you were about to delve into the next phase of your research, a familiar voice echoed through the intercom.

"Hey there, [Y/n], mind stepping into my office for a sec?" It was Alan, your colleague and occasional partner in mischief.

You paused, a mix of curiosity and caution flickering within you. Alan's sudden request for a meeting wasn’t unusual, to say the least.

But as you were busy with your project, annoyance built up at being interrupted.

‘Ugh, what does he want now?’ You muttered to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.

With a sigh, you set aside your work and made your way to his office, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

Pushing open the door, you found Alan seated behind his desk, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Ah, there you are," he said, motioning for you to take a seat. "I've got something I want to run by you."

You settled into the chair opposite him, your curiosity piqued. "What's on your mind?" you asked, curiosity evident in your voice.

The man leaned back in his chair, his expression serious yet tinged with excitement. "You ever heard of Mother Miranda and the four lords?" he began, his tone measured and deliberate, curiosity shining in his eyes.

You quirked your eyebrow at the sudden question. "You mean that cult Chris was so worked up about?" you asked, a flicker of unease creeping into your voice.

He nodded solemnly. "Yes."

His determination seemed to intensify at the mention of Chris.

But there was something in his demeanor that set off alarm bells in your mind. The way he couldn’t hold eye contact, the slight twitch of his lips—it was clear that he was hiding something.

"Alan, what aren't you telling me?" you pressed, your voice tinged with suspicion.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting yours once more. "Okay, I may have... hacked into some important files," he admitted, his tone sheepish.

"You what?!" Your eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern coursing through you.

The gravity of his confession weighed heavily on your mind. You both knew very well that this could get him fired, or even worse.

"You shouldn't be hacking into any files, Alan! How do you ‘accidentally’ hack anyway?"

"I was just try’na gather information. You know, for research purposes!" His tone grew louder as he tried defending his actions.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, crossing your arms. "Whatever. Why did you call me in here?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes gleaming with newfound determination. "I have a plan," he began, his voice steady. "We gather the necessary resources and equipment in the village, discreetly, of course. Then, we'll put it to good use."

As he vaguely outlined his plan, you couldn't help but feel a knot form in your stomach.

This entire thing felt wrong. The risks were too great, the consequences too dire. But your colleague seemed unfazed, his confidence unwavering.

"Come on, [Y/N]," he urged, leaning in closer. "With your expertise and Astrid's help, we could make this happen. Think of the knowledge we could uncover, the things we could achieve!"

You hesitated, torn between your curiosity and the sense of foreboding that lingered in the back of your mind.

But when he mentioned Astrid, your other friend,(and his sister), joining the venture, a glimmer of hope flickered within you. If Astrid was on board, maybe together you could keep an eye on Alan and ensure things didn't spiral out of control.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded reluctantly. "Fine, I'm in," you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "But we need to be careful. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

Alan grinned, a spark of excitement dancing in his eyes. "Don't worry," he reassured you. "Together, with you and Astrid, we've got this covered."

[ohlookapan]

The Edge of The Knife | Wintersberg

“You know, Winters, you've got guts. I wonder if you'd still look pretty with em’ ripped out and strung along my floor like tinsel.” Pairing: Ethan Winters/Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil: Village (2021)) Content Warning(s): Knives(?) Tagging: My lovely proofreaders, @thatsthewrongwallcraig & @dandeliongrahamlecter! A/N: Playing around with action/movement over dialogue. Definitely not an excuse to write for these beautiful dumbasses again. Enjoy below the cut!

****

If Heisenberg thought Ethan was pissed before, he was livid now.

And the bastard fucking loved it. 

Those soft, fair, snowy cheeks burning like hot coals; that golden hair all messy and ruffled like a hay bale; those hazel eyes smoldering like embers (he swore they turned red at some point, though maybe he was getting ahead of himself). 

And those lips. God, those thin, soft lips. Karl swore they'd be the death of him–the way they slimmed, pursed, and fired the most incendiary threats at him like a catapult. 

God damn those lips. God damn those eyes. God damn that hair. God damn those cheeks.

God damn Ethan Winters. 

“Give me the flask, Heisenberg. Now.”

Ethan's command wasn't just that, not even a demand. It was a warning. One that Karl was far too bored and smart to heed. 

Like a shark, he circled the father, letting his murky eyes traipse around his figure like a map, the object of his revolution being the most beautiful, bold, blonde X he'd ever seen.

“Now, now, Winters,” Heisenberg purred, tone loose and drenched in sweet velvet. “Is that any way to go about asking for things we want?”

A purr was met with a growl. No, a snarl. 

“I'm not asking, jackass.”

The lord hummed, coming to a stop right in front of Ethan. His cool eyes became freezing, piercing daggers. 

“Tsk, tsk. You speak to your mother with that dirty little mouth, Ethan? Maybe I should teach you some manners, hm? Put you in your place.”

If you looked at the two men, you couldn't tell which was the predator, and which was the prey. Especially when both seemed to lunge at each other. 

Barely, just barely, Ethan's feet moved first. He bolted toward Heisenberg, a hand out in the direction of his pocket that cradled the final piece of his daughter. 

Heisenberg almost wanted to hate him for making this so easy, but the electricity he felt shooting up his arm when his gloved hand gripped his wrist was like a drug. 

In a flash, before throwing him up against the wall, Karl swore that he could feel remnants of stitches or… Staples against the man's wrist. 

Christ, this kid's more like Frankenstein than me. He's more versatile than I thought. 

Heisenberg turned Ethan into a whip, spinning and sending him around and up against the wall with a crack (and yelp) to match. 

In all that time in keeping tabs on Papa Winters as he stormed across the village, a thundering shotgun in hand, he'd heard Ethan's pained whimpers more than enough times. He knew that the more painful something was, the more grit Ethan's whining was gripped with.

The one he heard this time nearly put him on his knees. 

Note to self. The kid can handle rough.

Ethan's calloused fingers wrapped around the grip of his gun and his muscles had begun their recoil to tug it free from the holster just as Heisenberg rushed him. 

A leather hand slammed against the wall while the other darted to the other man's belt and ripped the tucked-away knife free. It made a beeline to his neck, the edge of the blade just dancing along the slim hairs. 

“A word of advice buttercup,” Heisenberg murmured, breath rising and falling like waves against those cherry-tinted cheeks of Ethan's, a husky chuckle on its heels. “Try using knives next time. Better for close encounters, wouldn't you say?”

The blonde's chest rose and fell, barely pressing flush against the other's as it lifted. Frantic, he forced his body still like spotted, target prey; yet those eyes of his were another story entirely. They darted all over Karl's face as if trying to memorize every wrinkle, every line, every scar--God, were there a lot of scars. The patriarch's eyes trailed along each of them as if they were a road map. One that all led back to one place: Karl's eyes. 

Even as they hid behind the vaguely opaque discs of his shades, Ethan could make them out, clear as day. 

He knew Heisenberg well enough–probably too well for his liking–to know just how much he was holding under his tongue. He could only imagine all the things he wanted to say to him. Though, it should be noted that just because he could didn't mean he should–and certainly not that he would. 

In those eyes of his, Ethan could see how unwavering they were, and how they effortlessly they chased after his own. He could see the centers of them slowly expand, almost as if they wanted to suck the blonde in and never let him go. 

Almost challenging the metal lord (or maybe as a means of getting away), Ethan tilted his head up to meet the cold, cracked wall; leaving that smooth, pallid neck of his exposed to the edge of the knife. 

“You won't,” he breathed, the air between his and Heisenberg’s face feverish and volatile. “You need me.”

Damn right he fucking did.

A wolfish grin flickered on Karl's face, and the weapon's blade went from teasing to kissing the skin on the pinned man's throat. 

“You'd like to see me try, wouldn't you, peach?”

“Dying to.”

Fuck, the growl he heard. It almost matched the grin he couldn't rip away. 

“You know, Winters, you've got guts. I wonder if you'd still look pretty with em’ ripped out and strung along my floor like tinsel.”

Heisenberg could take that knife he was holding and slice the tension between them like bread. It only thickened and electrified as the seconds ticked by, and as their eyes dashed around in a game of tag. 

Finally, the kid spoke up. His voice, to Heisenberg’s surprise, was weak. It was shaky, coated in air and coarse moxie. 

“You don't scare me. You know that right?”

Heisenberg’s eyes flashed in surprise, only to melt into a sly, heated glare. His mouth shaped into a smirk. The voice that left it was nothing more than a humming rumble. So much so that Ethan could feel it against his chest, tangled with their heartbeats.

“Ethan, Ethan, Ethan," he tutted. "Is that your way of telling me to try harder?”

Heisenberg expected many things from the man he'd pinned to the wall; A punch, a bullet to the chest, to spit in his face and throw a harsh 'fuck off and die' in tow. 

What he didn't expect was for him to lean in. He didn't expect to be met with a grimace, or to feel the very edges of his golden hair teasing his forehead, or even to see Ethan's hazel eyes dilating to match his own, fighting for total control. 

He didn't expect to see his lips pulled closer to him, aching to bridge a gap. Karl Heisenberg didn't expect to feel his cheeks match Ethan's and their heavy dusting of rouge. 

He sure as hell didn't expect what he'd said to be the last thing he heard before pouncing on the father with dizzying need.

“Go on. Let's see what you're really made of, Karl Heisenberg.”