#heisenberg imagine Tumblr posts

  • ijumpbridges
    25.10.2021 - 2 days ago

    Reader fleeing the state

    It all started when you decide to leave the village for something a festival, vacations anything fun without telling anyone it was o ly going to be for a hour or less.

    You where heading to the duke until Bela saw and tend you a trap and so you told her where you where going, she begs you she wants to come with you really really really bad, so you said yes.

    It wasn't wierd that she beg you to take her, but okey? So the two head to the duke who takes both of you out of the village and before you said goodbye to the duke, you two exchange numbers, he has a hidden device and you know it, so you make sure give your number discreetly so Bela wouldn't say something.

    Moments that you left, Karl is looking for you everywhere, Alcina also is looking for Bela everywhere so they all ended up meeting at the dukes places. As usual they all greet each other, by ''greet'' between Karl and Alcina means tell each other how disgusting they existence are.

    So the duke is just telling them to cut it off and ask what they need, mean while you and bela went to a lot festivals and she even paint her face and you two did wierd shit there, Bela is now currently looking at the photo she took with your tablet she sees a phone call and she tells you about it. So you tell her to pick up without knowing.

    Facetime call

    Duke: Hello Miss bela and Miss Y/n, Your mom and your fiance wants to talk to you do you two, do you want me to put them on the phone?

    Bela: *Looks at Y/n* yes... I guess...

    Alcina: What do you mean i can't pick up the device

    Duke:You are going to break it *Turns the brightness of the tablet*

    Alcina: *lowers herself to see bela with her face paint* Bela what hapoen to your face!? Where in the world are you!!

    Bela: Hi sorry mom... me and Y/n went to some weird festival

    *Incoherence talk from Y/n and voice from the speakers*

    Karl: Move! *Pushes Alcina* You said Y/n's names are they with you right now?

    Bela: Yes they are right next to me they are listening *Shows Y/n on the screen meanwhile they are looking away*

    Karl: Tell them that i have been looking for them for hours and they better get back to the factory this instant!

    Y/n: about that....

    *Silence*

    Alcina: Bela i want you home right now or you will be in so much trouble.

    Karl: What time is it?

    Y/n: It's 6:38pm but it looks like 3pm for some reason.

    Alcina:Bela if you are not here by 8 you're in so much trouble young lady

    Bela: *nervious* Okey mmh... Y/n we have to go

    Y/n: *who hear the conversation* Bela how are going to go back!? we are three states away! And we are almost close to get out of the country!

    Karl: Little girl bring your ass back to the factory before i go myself personnally!!!

    Y/n: Bela if we run we can catch the next train

    Bela and Y/n: *fearing for their life right now they both stand up and start running*

    You and bela were anxious the whole time of the train travel you didn't know what kind of trouble you two will possibly be in.

    The moment that you two came back to the village looking like two hot dogs roasted, tight and disheveled hair, with heavy bags, you two knew that you fuck up.

    Karl yelled at you so bad that you froze, he was hurt because you took bela and not him and he was also afraid that something might had happen to you. Bela was grounded and was told not to see you anymore though she will never forget about it.

    For the next few months you try to please Karl so he wouldn't be mad with you anymore, and he still won't let that go too, sometimes he gets your table to see the pictures that you took with Bela. At the end he forgive you only if you take him to a trip like you did with Bela so you said yes and both of you had a lot of fun.

    #karl heisenberg headcanons #heisenberg imagine #resident evil alcina #re8 dimitrescu#re8 heisenberg#bela dimitrescu
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  • therewasatale
    23.10.2021 - 4 days ago

    sleeping beauty

    On Ao3.

    Summary:  He overworks himself, again. But you have a plan to get him into bed.

    You pushed down the door handle with your elbow, opening it into the long hallway. As you walked you balanced a covered plate in one hand while you held a thermos in the other as you walked along the high walls. Thick pipes ran around you but they all went the same direction with you, however they then turned and disappeared through the walls.

    Beyond a door, you’ve reached the site of Heisenberg’s current enormous project. A cool breeze ruffled your hair and you inadvertently swallowed as you glanced down at the huge crater. Several doors and conveyor belts were already in place. Metal beams and, for the time being, bridges without walking surfaces crisscrossed the bottomless depth. However, if you looked up you could already make out the finished shape of the construction from the haphazardly placed supports.

    What did you call it? Oh, yeah. Grinder Shaft.

    "Hey, Heisenberg!" You called out to the man.

    He wasn't a least bit bothered by the gap he was standing over anything. His long coat sometimes got caught in the wind. Surprisingly he did not wear his hat for once. He was held up securely by a wide sheet of metal as he examined the skeleton of the machine above him. Around him beams, huge bolts, and sharp plates were floating in circle.

    To this day, Heisenberg’s power still amazed you. You also knew the other lords' gifts they had received from Mother Miranda, but the man's was different. He could have built anything he wished for. And without lifting a finger he could become very dangerous and very deadly in seconds.

    A metal beam started to rise with its flock and slid into place, before they joined together as huge bolts bore into them. You could tell that all this will be finished in just a few more days, but it meant even more sleepless and restless days for Heisenberg. You had your own opinion about that.

    "Heisenberg!"

    "Wha'?!" He hasn’t turned towards you.

    "Come here, you need to eat!"

    "'m fine!"

    "You aren’t. Come on, I can't get up to you!"

    For a while only the clinking sounds of the metal pieces filled the crater.

    "Karl!"

    "Too bad for you, kitten."

    Snorting, you rubbed your blushed face into your shoulder. You still had to get used to nicknames.

    "Yeah-yeah, smartass." You muttered under your nose and then raised your voice again. "You haven't slept and eaten in over three days. So, please come and eat something!"

    Now it was his turn to snort.

    "I'm fine!"

    "Stubborn bastard."

    "I heard that, y'know!"

    "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Then I'll wait for you here." You sat down in the doorway and placed the thermos and plate next to yourself.

    Heisenberg muttered something under his breath and returned to focusing on his work again. The metal elements slowly danced around him and clanked into place as the man moved his fingers. He was a conductor and engineer in one, conducting a melody that only he could hear.

    You pulled up one of your legs and then, after some thought, removed the cover from the plate. Below it were two well-packed sandwiches. The smell immediately filled the air around you, the saline fragrance of the tomatoes, the silkiness of the cheese danced in your nose. Duke has always brought the best ingredients.

    "By the way I made you sandwiches."

    "Uhum."

    "Cucumber, tomato, edam cheese and ham. I toasted the ham a bit and so do the bread, on butter by the way, just the way you like."

    Another murmur came, but even sitting at the edge of the crater, you could still hear his rumbling of his belly.

    "Oh, you son of a-!"

    You gave out a chuckle poorly disguised as a cough.

    The metal parts came together forming a path for Heisenberg, then descended on a semi-finished bridge. The lord scowled at you.

    "I told you, I'm fine." He grumbled, but he didn't refuse the food when you stood up and handed it to him.

    "I know you said that, but the circles under your eyes tell me a different story."

    "They're lying." He answered with his mouth full and stared at the nearby wall instead of looking at you.

    "I can still see them, you know, right?"

    "Shut up!"

    You took out your thermos and uncapped it is pouring a decent amount of tea into the top. It was steaming hot, but the fragrance was overwhelmed by Heisenberg's smell, oil mixed with tobacco. Personally, you didn’t find it unpleasant, you almost missed it when you were away from him.

    "Here, I made tea too, blackcurrant, I got it from the Duke not too long ago."

    He muttered something under his breath in response. After taking the cap he slowly blew on it and took a few sips. "Um, not bad." He took another deep gulp.

    "I was hoping it tasted good," you watched with a smile as he poured out another cup of tea, then you glanced at the grinder, "You have made a lot of progress."

    "Yeah, but it's still a long way to go." Returning the cap, he allowed himself a yawn. "The lower frame will be ready tomorrow, then the upper one, then the elements holding the shredder come in, and then finally the shredder itself. Although I still want to do a few tests on it and I want to make sure I secure the upper shaft part properly."

    Stepping closer to him, you listened seriously and nodded, refilling the cap.

    "Then maybe a week, and hm…" he paused for a few moments as you pressed another cap of tea into his hand. Not really paying attention, he downed it in one go. "What was I on about exactly?"

    "You were talking about how you need maybe a week and then you can start assembling the internal elements of the grinder." You helped him out stepping in front of him.

    "Yes?" He blinked slowly. "Yes."

    "Uhum." You looked at him with a smile. "How do you feel?"

    He looked at you with eyes struggling to stay open, and he stifled a yawn.

    "'m… fine." He wrinkled his forehead as strong as he could, then, it was as if recognition glinted in his eyes. He looked down at the cap in his hand, then at you, then at the cap again, finally his tired eyes settled on your face.

    "Oh no, ya fucking didn't." His head nodded down, and he tried to take a step towards, but his legs weren’t accommodating.

    You were already waiting and stepping towards him you caught him, letting him lean on you. "Yeah, I fucking did."

    "You little…I will…" after his legs, his tongue also became numb. Now he was leaning against you with his full weight. The cap of the thermos slipped from his hand, it clanked on the ground, and rolled into the abyss.

    You weren't sure that he could had hear the last thing you said. Around you, the deep breathing of Heisenberg mingled with the thudding of the factory.

    The easier part was done. Luckily, he was so immersed in his own thoughts he didn’t even notice the slight aftertaste of the sleeping drug. You’d have to thank Duke for getting some, and even more for bringing which was so effective. According to him, it could be mixed without problem into drinks and food, and the drug was certain to last for at least four hours.

    Heisenberg snorted as you took his arm over your shoulder.

    "All right, let's get you to bed."

     Lord Heisenberg awoke slowly. His thoughts in his head were blanketed in fluffy cotton balls. His headache was gone at least. He felt soft fabric under his fingers, and so did under his body and head. He blinked a couple of times and looked around the room. The room, which, wasn't his.

    His memories finally fought themselves free from the cotton balls. He had been working on the grinder for a few days, he hasn't really been able to tell how much exactly...Then he became hungry, he drank some blackcurrant tea. Slowly he managed to put the pieces together to form a complete picture.

    He suddenly jolted up in your bed with a snort.

    "(Y/N)!"

    "Good morning." As if you just felt his awakening, you entered the door with a tray in your hand. "How are you feeling?"

    "You dared to actually drug me? While I was working ?!" He pushed off the blanket, then paused to glance down at himself. "Where are my pants? And my coat?!"

    "Your pants are in the garbage. I got some new ones. I didn't touch your coat." You gestured to towards the other end of the room after you placed the tray on the small table next to your bed. "But you won't get it until you eat something proper."

    "…What?"

    "Come on, the soup is ready now. I put in everything that’s good for you, it should make you stronger."

    "I told ya, I'm fine." He muttered, still self-conscious, he was moving towards his new pants.

    "You haven’t slept for at least four days." You stood up again and stepped in front of him at the end of the bed.

    "So what?!"

    He was annoyed, not angry, just annoyed. But he could become dangerous if he got angry.

    On the other hand, you too were annoyed and worried.

    "What do you mean so what?! You know it well enough what happened the last time you overworked yourself! And I'm not just talking about all the overnight work, when you go to bed around dawn, or I find you passed out on your desk."

    His mouth trembled, but his eyes just steeled themselves as he looked into yours. "Let me go, I need to work and finish it as soon as I possible."

    "Don't make me the bad guy when I'm trying to help."

    "Says the one who knocked me out with sleeping pills."

    You had to take a deep breath. You knew you wouldn’t have an easy time with him, but you had no idea he will be so willful and ungrateful. You had to massage your forehead.

    "Listen…just-just eat, all right? Just sit down and eat a bit then you can go."

    "How should I know you didn't put something in it that too?" It was a low blow, even from him, and for a second, he thought he should apologize, but his pride stopped him.

    "You know, I'm just trying to help, Heisenberg. For gods' sake you would already be out of here IF you would put your ass down and eat!"

    "Stop bossing me around! This is my place and I do what I want!" He threw his arms into the air. You shuddered for a second and glanced towards the corners of the room. Every bit of metal in the room began to shake but did not move.

    He followed your glance and made a nervous growl in the back of his throat. "I…I won't hurt you. For fuck's sake."

    You needed to take a big breath, but it didn't help you to calm down. He was right, it maybe was a nasty trick you pulled, but you felt like you had to do something. Especially after what happened last time, you just couldn’t let that happen again. Your stomach tightened into a knot from just thinking about it.

    "What if you overwork yourself so much again that you fell asleep while working? Without getting to a nearby door." Your voice was too quiet, you had to clear your throat. You tried to swallow, but it was as if something was squeezing your windpipe. "What if you ran out steam sooner than you think? What would have happened if you collapsed working above the crater?" Your hands trembled a bit and your voice became faint again. Memories weighed on you and fear tightened your chest.

    "Last time…last time too… I only realized that something has collapsed and I found you under metal beams and rubble. I just managed to drag you out from under there!" You snapped stepping closer to him. "Gods damn it you, stubborn idiot I'm just worried about you! Calm down for once when I ask and listen to me. You're doing great, you will finish your work soon after you had some rest. Still, you NEED to take a rest because you look like shit. And I don't know what to do if you get hurt or stuck somewhere and I can't help!"  

    His steely eyes became softer as he saw the sincere concern and the gleam of tears in yours. He had to look away. It still caught him off guard how much you cared, and how often you reminded him of that.

    "Fuck…" he rubbed his face into his hands, then took a step back and sat back on the edge of your bed with a huge sigh. "I know… I know, god damn it." Lowering his head, he took a deep breath. "I know…"

    You had to swallow to ease the tightness of your throat. You blinked away the tears, then sat down carefully next to him.

    "You can be a stubborn bastard, but I'm too."

    "I know." His shoulder sagged as he leaned forward, placing his elbow on his legs. His face was hidden by his graying hair, but you could see he was much calmer now. The objects around you stopped vibrating too. "Sorry."

    "Yeah, I'm sorry too." Reaching out, you grabbed his hand and caressed his fingers. His skin was much rougher, but he still gently stroked you back.

    Drawing small circles on your palm he shook his head. "You even took my pants. But the sleeping pill was still a bad form from you. Next time just…"

    "Oh, I'm not sorry for that, just for taking your pants."

    "Shut up." He snorted but a chuckle slipped out from between his lips. "Smartass. Drugging me...and then dragging me into your room." He glared at you, a soft smile.

    "I'm lucky you barely ate in the last couple of days, thanks to that it only took me three-quarters of an hour to drag you here." You kissed his shoulder and leaned against him. "Not including changing your clothes and putting you to bed."

    He just muttered something softly and rubbed his forehead against yours.

    "And what if I tried to go back to work?"

    "I wouldn't have let you." You said sharply. "I told you, I just wanted you to get some sleep. You needed rest, but I wouldn't have let you get in danger. Come on, Heisenberg, you know better than that." You looked at him. "Or not?"

    Looking into your eyes, he gave out a loud chuff, much like a steam engine. "Yes, I do…I know. Maybe it's just my pride that have been hurt."

    You watched his face quietly. The dark circles were still under his eyes, but he looked much more relaxed, that was already a bit of a victory for you. He turned his gray gaze into yours.

    "How do you feel?"

    "My head doesn't throb that much now." He admitted after a while. "And my thinking also got a bit better"

    "Good. That's good."

    "If you say so."

    "Come on, old man." You gently pushed him with your shoulders, and you chuckled as he snorted.

    "Old man?"

    "Well, you did look like you had one foot in the grave."

    "I had to work." He answered with a slightly offended tone.

    "I know, and you're really good at working, but you are much worse at taking rest when you need to. But that's why I'm here."

    "Really? I thought you're here to annoy me all the time."

    "Tometo-tomato."

    He snorted and opened his mouth to protest, but you pulled him to yourself and kissed him. He knew full well that you kissed him not only out of the romantic gesture, but also to silence him. He snorted again softly, but his murmuring soon stopped. He embraced you and pulled you closer, his fingers ran over your back, and wouldn't let you go for long minutes.

    Your nose was filled with the smell of tobacco. You could feel him pulling you completely to his chest.

    "Mh, love you, you stubborn pain in the ass."

    He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. "I should be the one who says that." He smiled and rubbed his face.

    Glancing up into his eyes, one thought did not let you relax. The little thing the Duke warned you about. Maybe you wanted to help, but what if you did more harm than good? You had to ask, even though your heart ached just thinking about it.

    "Tell me, do you trust me?"

    His mouth twitched as he looked away. He needed to think, and with each passing second you could feel the cracks forming on your heart. You wanted to help, you would do anything for him. However, if you messed this up…

    Finally, he nodded, slowly. "Yes, I still trust you."

    "Thank god." A worried sigh escaped you, and you didn't even notice the way you held your breath.

    "Come on, kitten." He raised your chin and gazed into your eyes. "We're both a bit of a crazy. You drugged me so I wouldn't work myself to death. And I'm something not-quite human, who has a parasite living inside him, and set up an over-the-top factory underground to use some godforsaken souls like me."

    "Yeah…we both messed up in the head."

    "See? However, now I will have you taste test every food we eat."

    "Deal." You nodded with a smile, as a huge weight was lifted from your heart. "So now would you like to eat the soup, or would you rather relax a little more?"

    "Well," he glanced at the soup at you, then at you, then back at the plate, finally pulling you into bed with you. "I've already eaten some sandwiches, a couple of hours ago."

    "And you snored in my bed for six hours." You helped him out as you snuggled up next to him in your bed.

    He pulled his nose up and stuck out his tongue at you. "I don't snore."

    "Of course not." You put your head on his shoulder, giggling softly. "But did the sandwiches helped?"

    "After days of eating just here and there? Of course, they helped." He shuddered as you bit his shoulder. "What?"

    "Nothing, you bastard."

    "I am one, and yet you're still with me."

    Rolling your eyes, you snuggled closer with a smile, and you listened to his breathing, the rhythm of which reminded you to the thrumming of the factory.

    "How did I get a clean shirt on?" He broke the silence.

    "I cut off the one that was on you. I love you, but I wouldn't put you in my bed wearing a 4 day old sweaty, dusty, and oily top."

    "Ah." He ruffled your hair with a grin. "And the pants?"

    "Fortunately, I was able to take them off you with your help."

    "What?"

    "You could have dreamed of something because you muttered about getting ready for the ball and having to put on new clothes. It was weird, and I don't think it had anything to do with sleeping pills."

    Heisenberg tried to recall the memories of his dream, but they already drifted far into the depths of his subconscious.

    "But after that you slept like a log."

    "Oh shut up."

    "Why tho? You were such a sleeping beauty."

    "All right, I better get to sleep."

    Laughing, you snuggled closer and adjusted the blanket. He slowly smoothed his fingers into your hair and began to gently comb it with them.

    "Then I will sleep too, the day behind me was really exciting."

    "I can tell." He kissed your forehead, his beard tickling your skin. "Go to sleep, you stubborn bastard."

    "Only if I do it with you. Night, Heisenberg."

    "Good night, (Y/N)." His breathing became softer, and slower, you could feel his deep breath in your hair.

    You carefully waited for him to fall asleep, and then, the rhythm of his breathing rocked you to sleep.

    #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg imagines #karl heisenberg x reader #reader#lord heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg imagine#copper#re village
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  • heydeerie
    23.10.2021 - 4 days ago

    He deserves a nice spa day

    #heisenberg imagine#re8 heisenberg#karl heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil#lord heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #number one lord #i just think theyre neat #tin man#daddy heisenberg
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  • buryustogether
    20.10.2021 - 1 week ago

    FEED THE MACHINE - CHAPTER 9

    summary : the other villagers are astounded to find that you’re still alive while on an errand. along with your brother, you see a familiar face.

    word count: 2.9k

    author’s note: was replaying village again and i literally got so hot and bothered by karl talking over the tv i had to take a break and get a drink

    No longer did Lord Moreau leave you on your own for very long, even to deliver messages across the village or to tend to your chores around the mines. After the incident in which you fell from the windmill - which you again lied about and said you had a tumble feeding the pigs - he was always just a few steps behind you, never giving you enough space to breathe for long. He had practically thrown himself upon you when you had returned from the factory that night, and had sworn he wouldn’t let you out of his sight again. You were unsure just how you felt about his promise.

    He accompanied you everywhere - even into the village a week later to purchase new fabrics from the Duke when word came that he had returned from his travels.

    You found yourself rather giddy to see your old home again as you and Lord Moreau shuffled through the thin blanket of fresh snow that covered the path to town. You were going to see your friends again, see your brother, walk the same roads you had your entire life. You could pretend for just a while that this hadn’t all happened to you, that someone else had been chosen, that everything was going according to the plan you had set for yourself by the time you were left in charge.

    For a moment, you allowed yourself to reflect on what could could have been. Your parents could have still been around, could have protected you from the inevitability of the fate that had befallen you. They could have looked after Anthony while you were away serving Lord Moreau, could have comforted you and wiped away your tears in your final moments of being home. You could have remembered their embraces, their voices. Except when you pulled yourself from your thoughts, you found that had all just been the results of a too-wild imagination. You were here, walking with the outcast son of Mother Miranda herself, your brother with a neighbor and your hopes of having a normal life dashed.

    “What… what’s wrong?” said Moreau, his eyes willed with worry when you turned to face him. “Something’s the matter?”

    Blinking a few times to rid your lashes of the snowflakes that had gathered there, you gave him a small smile and shook your head. “Nothing’s the matter, my Lord,” you answered. “I’m only… remembering my childhood. Being back so reminds me of it.”

    He seemed to consider this for a moment, then lifted his head. His fish tail slapped joyfully against the ground as you both went along. “I don’t… don’t r-recall much from before Mother. All, all blurry.”

    You stared at the toes of your boots for a long second, a bit too wrapped up in your own thoughts to process what he had said. Then, it hit you. Your head snapped up so that you could face him, the wicker basket in your hand nearly slipping from your grasp. “Before Mother Miranda?” you said, almost hesitantly, as if he was going to clam up and realize that he perhaps should not have said that. “I thought she was your real mother. That your brother and sisters were all blood.”

    No answer had the chance to come, however, because you had reached the village then, and a startled shriek drew your attention to the side. Gathered by a tractor set off to the side of the square, no doubt gossiping as they so enjoyed to do, were the group of girls you and Paulina had been conversing with the night of the festival last month. They caught sight of you and it seemed as though their expressions had been wiped clean of anything but shock; their eyes were wide and their mouths agape, gazes flickering between you and Moreau.

    “Y/N,” said a man that had been passing by with a sack of grain over his shoulder, “by god, you’re back!”

    From there, a small swarm of villagers were gathering on their porch steps and in the nooks and crannies between houses to see what the commotion was about. They whispered, or even talked aloud unabashedly; no one had ever come back from the Lords’ territories before. And in such perfect shape - what had happened? Why were you here? A few women came up and hugged you, men touched your shoulders. A few children even skittered about your legs, giggling and pleading with you for new gloves, to repair their shoes.

    Your heart swelled with joy and you found yourself smiling wider than you had in weeks, shaking hands, assuring people you were alright. You were so wrapped up in your excitement you failed to see Moreau’s lips turn downwards in a scowl as he backed into the shadows.

    “Y/N, you must go to Luiza’s and see your brother,” said one of the elder children, a girl of around sixteen or so. “He went on a hunt with the men last week and brought back half a dozen rabbits!”

    Your smile faltered slightly as you disentangled yourself from the crowd and began to make your way through the village to the fields, where Louisa’s house was located. Anthony had gone on a hunt with the men? He was only seven years old; what were they thinking, taking him out like that? Surely that must have traumatized him something awful. You were already thinking of ways to make it up to him by the time you were stepping up the front steps to the porch, the floorboards creaking in protest beneath your weight. Your hand had just raised to knock against the door when a voice called out to you.

    “If you’re looking for them, they’ve taken Anthony from the south end to the church.”

    Turning, you found a boy your own age emerging from the yellow fields, an axe across one shoulder and a strap of chopped wood in his other grasp. You recognized him instantly; it was Thomas from the north end, the boy you had caught staring at you during the festival. His confident stride faltered when he seemed to place you, as well, before a smile broke across his face and graced you with the rather charming sight. “Y/N from the south end! Everyone assumed you would never be coming back here after being chosen by Lord Moreau.”

    Taking a step down, you watched him as he placed his wood and axe down before he extended a hand and offered to help you the rest of the way off the steps. Up close, you were able to take him in much better; his chestnut-colored hair was pulled back in a short, neat ponytail, and you realized the scar from the tractor accident he’d had years ago was actually shaped like a letter ‘L’. He was no doubt, as Paulina had said, the most handsome man this end of the village.

    “Yes, well,” you said and allowed yourself to smile slightly, “I have to say they weren’t the only ones.” It was so pleasant to be in the company of the locals again, to not have to watch what you said and consider your tone of voice before you said it. “You said they took Anthony to the church? I was hoping to pay him a visit before I went back to the Reservoir.”

    Thomas wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, then stuffed it back into his pocket and said, “Please, allow me to walk you. I would be a sorry excuse for a gentleman if I let you go by yourself when you’ve only just gotten back.” He offered you his arm, perfectly folded at the elbow and inviting your hand to hold it. You simply couldn’t leave him waiting.

    The pair of you made your way back through the fields and through the end of the village, snow crunching softly underfoot and a few stray flakes catching your hair. “How have things been since I’ve been gone?” you asked him. “I’m afraid I don’t get much news all the way over at the lakes.”

    He emitted a hum that gave the implication he was thinking. “Well,” he said, free hand coming up to thumb at his scar, “Elise from the west end had her baby; it’s a girl, thank heavens. Lord knows that poor women has enough boys tramping through her home.” You shared a laugh, and you couldn’t help but notice the pair of dimples that showed when he smiled. “Let’s see, now. Lord Heisenberg sent down a new shipment of metals and tools so that we could repair a few of the houses that took a beating during that blizzard that came through. Oh! And Mother Miranda gathered us all last week to hold a prayer vigil. I thought it rather strange, so close to the festival, but she claimed it was only because she missed us all so much.”

    You gave him another smile, knowing full well that Mother Miranda had arranged that vigil to distract the villagers from the gunshots and violence happening outside the gates.

    Thomas steered you around a pair of hunting dogs that were wrestling “But, if I may, what is like serving one of the great Lords? A life of luxury, no doubt, just as Mother Miranda says.”

    Your smile faltered slightly as you went along. You thought of your little shack that threatened to collapse in on you every day, the dank-smelling caves, the sitting water of the swamps that surrounded the rotting windmills. You swallowed thick, your grip around his arm tightening. “Yes,” you said finally. “Amazing.”

    By the time you had reached the church near the center of the village, nearly everyone, it seemed, knew of your sudden reappearance. They called out to you and hesitantly said hello, although their children were not at all as shy. They crowded around your and Thomas’ legs, pulling on your skirts and attempting to place their things into your basket; torn dolls, gloves with holes in the fingers, and more that moved so quickly you didn’t even get a chance to see what they were. Thomas swooped a few of them into his arms, motioning to you that he would hold them off until you got a chance to make it to the church.

    You knocked your boots against the first step to rid your soles of the snow, the wood warped and chipped where others had done the same thing time and time again. The small string of bells attached to the front door jingled merrily as you stepped inside.

    Luiza and her husband looked up from tending to the offering table at the front of the small room, and they both gave quiet gasps of shock. At their waists, the small figure that filled your heart with a tidal wave of joy looked up before turning to follow their gazes. Anthony’s eyes widened as they met yours, a few flower stems that were in his small grasp dropping to the floor. “Y/N?” he squeaked.

    Wordlessly, too overcome with the tears in your eyes and the lump in your throat to say anything in return, you rushed forward and dropped to your knees to envelop him in a hug. He wrapped his small arms around your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, as he buried his face into the place just below your throat. You stayed like that for what felt an eternity before finally pulling back to cup his small face and smile gently. “They must be feeding you well, because I think you’ve gotten bigger.”

    Anthony gave a little giggle before standing up again to show you the dark green coat he wore; you didn’t remember him having that before. “Look,” he said proudly. “Miss Luiza bought it for me last week.”

    Sending Luiza a grateful grin, you reached a hand out to run your fingers over the pale buttons that lined one side of the coat. It was far nicer than anything you had ever been able to afford. Perhaps he really was doing better with someone else than with you. “Well, it looks rather handsome,” you said finally. “I hope it’s capable of keeping you warm for a while, because I was hoping to take you to see the Duke while he’s in town.” You gave his hair a few pets before sending him outside to wait for you, then turned to the shell-shocked couple before the alter. “I must thank you again for taking care of him while I’m away.”

    “Y/N,” breathed Luiza, twisting a string of beads between her hands. “My god, we all thought… we all thought you were dead.”

    “You all are beginning to sound like echoes,” you laughed. “No, my Lord Moreau is very generous. Though, I’m not here to stay. I came to see Anthony and purchase a few items from the merchant before he left.”

    Luiza smiled good-naturedly, then turned to string the strand of beads across the portrait of Donna Beneviento above the offering table before brushing her hand and ushering you towards the door. “Well, then you best hurry. Goodness knows when he comes and goes. Go along with him; we’ll be home when you’re ready.”

    Outside, you found Anthony talking rather animatedly with Thomas, who had somehow managed to get rid of the pack of children. You joined them, reaching down to hold your brother’s hand, and the three of you began to cross to the south end, where the Duke usually set up his shop. Even from what felt like a mile away, you were able to see the bright red wagon and the pure white horse that pulled the load without any struggle. The merchant himself was sitting at the head, smoking a cigar and reading a book that looked miniature-sized in his large palm. He looked up when you approached, a warm smile settling over his features.

    The Duke was, quite literally, the largest man you had ever seen in your life. Practically everyone in the village was thin, thanks to the unstable crops each year and wavering hunt numbers, but he was not from the village. The buttons on his shirt and vest seemed to be the strongest ever created, and he never wore shoes, most likely because none came in his size. He coughed constantly and laughed so hard his belly shook like pudding, and yet, he was possibly the sweetest man you’d met.

    “If it isn’t Miss Y/N, all the way from the Reservoir,” he rumbled, placing his book away deep in his cart. “I hadn’t suspected you’d be back so early. But, as they say, early is on time, no?”

    “Hello, Duke,” you said, your eye on Anthony, who was already nosing through the chest of children’s toys that were sitting on the ground. “You’re not surprised I’m still even here at all?”

    He hummed and took a drag of his cigar, which smelled distinctly like the kind that Heisenberg smoked. “Not at all, my dear girl. One who has so much spirit would not soon go down without spitting up a whirlwind of a fight, don’t you think?”

    You weren’t quite sure what to make of his words, so let them alone for now. “Forgive me for being so eager, but would you happen to have any more of those fabrics I often purchase? The silky type? Oh, and perhaps-“

    Before you could finish, the Duke had rummaged around in the back of his cart for a moment before turning around - with a great amount of effort - and extended a large stack of fabrics, within which were silks, wools, threads and other delicacies only worthy of your seamstressing talents and which only your skills could craft into something marvelous. “I’ve been accumulating quite the collection, as you can see,” he said when you reached out to accept his offering. He stopped you when you reached into your skirts for the Lei pouch you had stored there. “No payment this time, my dear. All I ask is to see your creations around town soon.”

    You stood, fabrics in hand, rather flabbergasted. The lump in your throat threatened to bob back up, but you forced it down and rapidly nodded your head. “Thank you so much,” you managed through your grin. You cast a glance to Anthony, who had picked out a painted wooden cow from the toy box. “At least let me pay for t-“

    “Allow me,” said Thomas, suddenly reminding you he was there. He quickly fetched a few coins from his own pockets before extending them to the merchant. He gave you only a smile in explanation, letting you hang onto his arm again as you turned and began to head back to the square.

    “You truly didn’t have to,” you murmured quietly to him as Anthony skipped forward to show his new toy to the other children ahead.

    Thomas shrugged a shoulder. “I did not have to,” he replied. “But I wanted to. Is that not reason enough?”

    Just a while later, when you had bid Thomas goodbye and then dropped Anthony back off at Luiza’s house, you found yourself heading through the south end back towards where you had last seen Moreau. You wondered just where he had gotten off to. Perhaps he had gone back home. You were pulled from your thoughts when you turned a corner that connected to your old shack, which was supposed to be empty, abandoned. Instead, you saw a short, hunched figure closing your gate and slowly turning to head down the path. As you stepped closer, you realized it was the old village hag, the elderly woman that walked with a staff dangling with bones and bells and charms. Her long silver hair hung like curtains across her weathered face, expression unreadable as she turned to face you when you came to a stop beside her.

    “Pardon me, ma’am,” you said, recalling the odd words she had given you last month at the festival. “Are you living in that house now?”

    The woman breathed slowly, as if each breath took her effort, and she leaned heavily against her walking stick. “Walking through that storm, I see,” she said in a voice that sounded like gravel that had once been honey. “And so gracefully you were. Such a shame you’ve decided to forge your own path.”

    You blinked a few times in confusion, the cold beginning to get to your bones and seep into them like water into the ground. “I… I’m sorry?”

    She smacked her lips a few times before facing ahead again, leaving you gaping after her as she said, “You’ll see. Machines fail. Gears rust. And heed my word - you will tumble in time with the final push against this village.”

    tag list : @stararch4ngell4dy @bluewingedangel @durrtydawg @ambiguous-g @1800shootmeplease @avatamriel @artist-bby @mraes @theeerealpunkin @1-rosewiththorns @tortoisesandcrystals @how-am-i-serpose-to-know @angelicwolf98 @superwhoopsimarecluse @short-potato @apathetic-catastrophie @chrysanthykios @saraissleepy @adorb-connor @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @itsallaboutkey @kmt123whatsthetea @bodyelectrics @excessexpress @rumble1 @alstrodark @mrob-dream @j00nifi3d @patchiefrog @imamericasass

    #re8 #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x female reader #karl heisenberg imagines #re8 karl heisenberg #heisenberg#re village #resident evil heisenberg #feed the machine fic #cal writes
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  • gingergcnius
    17.10.2021 - 1 week ago

    I have been seeing many artists drawing human salvatore and I am LOVING IT

    AND AN IDEA STRUCK ME . MAY I OFFER:

    dbd crossover ?? KARL AND MOREAU AS SURVIVORS , AND MIRANDA AS A KILLER ??

    #THINK ABOUT IT #I EVEN HAVE IDEAS FOR THEIR PERKS N ALL #FOR KARL I IMAGINED ONE OF THEM BEING ABLE TO SILENCE A GENERATOR COMPLETELY FOR 30 SECONDS #OR LIKE NOT LOSING ANY PROGRESS WHEN FAILING TO DO ONE OF THOSE CHECK THINGIES ( i havent played dbd in nearly a year please forgive me ) #AND MOREAU ABLE TO HEAL TEAMMATES FASTER #OR SILENCING THE HURT SURVIVORS WHEN HE STARTS HEALING BUT LETS TO LIKE 5 SECONDS AND THE MARKS YOU LEAVE WHEN YOU RUN ARENT VISIBLE #karl heisenberg#salvatore moreau#mother miranda#re8#re#resident evil #resident evil village #dead by daylight #dbd
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  • rengokuneedshugs
    14.10.2021 - 1 week ago
    #karl heisenberg fluff #heisenberg imagine #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg#re8#headcanons #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #imagines #i love him sm #please i cant #ahhhhghggkhysrdrzrhfg
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  • metal-bending-trashman-simp
    13.10.2021 - 1 week ago

    Quick question, Heisenberg was born in the era of WW2 right? But he was a kid when Miranda took him so where do we all stand on Heisenberg knowing what I dinosaur is? Do you guys think Miranda would have taught them all about them or do you think it would be another thing she would hide away?

    #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl headcanons #resident evil heisenberg #heisenberg imagine #resident evil village headcanons #resident evil village #resident evil 8
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  • rengokuneedshugs
    12.10.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    Karl Heisenberg w/ Gn! S/O Headcanons!

    so um yes i have a lot of request's in my inbox but this won't leave my brain i will get to those request's but first i present to you some Heisenberg brainrot enjoy babes!

    Let's be honest here almost anybody is smaller than him and with that just imagine playing old loves songs on an old radio and just dancing while you stand on the toes of his boots pls i will write an imagine of this just say the word

    He'll never admit it but he can't sleep unless they're with him it just feels impossible, trying to sleep without the warmth of his lover there next to him feels more lonely than ever

    You know he doesn't eat healthy nor does he have a schedule for when he does so. You noticed this pretty quickly and started to make breakfast for him when you can, the first time you did this however scared him to death

    He wakes up only to find himself alone for the first time in who knows how long, just as he starts to feel as though his heart is cracking in two you walk in with a large tray of breakfast in hand. But you immediately noticed something was wrong, you asked him what was wrong but he brushed off all your questions too afraid to come off as clingy and pathetic

    TRUST ISSUES FROM HELL let me tell you this man had such a hard time opening up about a lot of things and yet he still hasn't told you everything

    Not only does he have bad trust issues but he has very low self esteem, he makes it a point to get rid of any mirrors around the factory. He hates to see his reflection, all those scars, bruises and even just his face/body. He swore to himself that you wouldn't see his body for a long time, not until he knew he could really trust you

    He planned to hang on to that little self promise a little while longer until one day you walked in to your shared room a little unexpectedly after his shower. Fear powered adrenaline hits him as he realizes you saw him, but what scared him more was that you didn't flinch at the sight, you didn't seem disgusted not like he thought you would be should i just make this a one shot

    i have so many more but they're mainly bigger things so if i should just make some one shots or imagines let me know and if you have any requests drop em in my inbox i'll get to em eventually 😅 anyways thanks for reading!!!!

    #head canons#headcanons#head canon#re8 #re8 karl heisenberg #resident evil village #karl heisenberg#re village #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg fluff #heisenberg imagine
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  • buryustogether
    10.10.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM8RMkgdb/

    speaking for everyone in this fandom when i say i couldn’t agree more

    #re8 #resident evil village #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg imagines #karl heisenberg #resident evil 8 memes
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  • buryustogether
    10.10.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    FEED THE MACHINE - CHAPTER 8

    summary: lord heisenberg aids you in your time of need. you decide to return the favor in your own way.

    word count: 3.5k

    author’s note: i don’t care if he’s ooc, he’s my dreamboat and i will go down with this ship like a good captain should

    You weren’t sure what pulled you from your sleep at first, but in the few quick, fleeting moments that you hovered between slumber and consciousness, you were able to collect the remnants of the dream that was still sitting in the front of your mind. You recalled the short, warbled visions of being caught under the rotting waves of a lake, unable to free yourself from the tightening grip of the icy darkness that held you. You hadn’t been completely sure, but you could have sworn that, when you pried your eyes open against the water and peered at what was keeping you from surfacing, you found a pair of webbed hands holding you under. When they seemed to realize you had seen them, they snatched you up further and yanked you deeper into the abyss, damning you to a fate of never being seen again.

    A short gasp escaped your lips when you awoke fully, dreary sunlight casting dull rays of the sunset upon your features and playing with shadows across them like a painter across a canvas. You raised a hand to shield your eyes against the sudden light, blinking rapidly when the glass bulbs affixed to the ceiling flickered on and bathed you in a guilty spotlight. Squinting against the blinding spots of white, you lifted your head to look at the figure that had moved to crouch in front of you.

    “What the hell are you doin’ in here?” Lord Heisenberg asked when you finally looked at him through his shades. Seeming to understand your hesitance, separated by the small barrier, he reached a finger up and lowered them down the bridge of his nose so that you could meet his gaze. Now that you were able to adjust to the light, you were able to take him in entirely.

    Heisenberg’s hair was tousled slightly beneath his hat, marred from sweat and grime, and his coat bore a few more tears and burn marks than you originally recalled. Hammer leaning up against his workbench and lowered to be at your level, he was much less frightening here, much more human. You found that keeping his gaze was easier than you had thought.

    When you failed to reply, still curled up against the rumbling machine and the Casablanca having flashed to black and white fuzzies while you slept, he exhaled a grunt and returned to his full height. Shedding his glasses, he tossed them onto a counter and groaned slightly when he moved his left shoulder the wrong way. You watched him rather curiously.

    “That fishy brother of mine finally scare you away, did he?” he said, continuing to stretch his limbs and relax now that he was back in the safety of his own territory. He craned his neck and popped it several times, squared his jaw and maneuvered it a few times to make sure it still worked properly. You stared at him; after spending so much time with Moreau, you had nearly forgotten how an entirely normal-looking person moved and sounded.

    Finally remembering yourself, you shook your head slightly and stood, attempting to smooth your skirts to look somewhat presentable. How embarrassing this was; to be caught sleeping, not only by a Lord, but in his own home. What must he have thought of you? “No, no, of course not,” you said quickly, your voice gravely and broken from nearly drowning earlier that day. You pretended not to notice the odd glance he sent you. “I… I fell. While tending to the pigs near the cliff face.” Your mind slowly waking up, you brought back the still-vivid memories of the beastly creatures that had saved your life. “Although, I think… I believe that the Lycans helped me. They led me here. I apologize for trespassing. I didn’t-“

    “Don’t say sorry so much,” he dismissed as he waved a gloved hand. Again, he groaned and grasped at his shoulder. “Sounds like those mutts are finally doin’ their job, after all.”

    “Beg pardon?”

    “Nothing.” Heisenberg braced himself against the workbench for a moment, head hung in what could have possibly been exhaustion. Without his glasses shielding his eyes from the world, you were able to see the stress lines that framed their caverns and the individual wrinkles that marred the corners. He seemed to sense you looking and turned to face you, following your gaze when you quickly glanced to the Casablanca.

    Attempting to break the rather awkward silence that had overtaken the garage, you padded closer to the contraption and touched the glassy face. “What makes the Casablanca go?” you asked suddenly. You had been asking yourself this question since the very first picture show you had seen in Moreau’s mines. It didn’t take gasoline like the tractors in the village, as you had never seen your Lord fuel it, and there was no crank to turn to power the machine, so what exactly was it?

    He was quiet for a few long moments, almost as if he didn’t comprehend what you were saying, before he reached into his pocket and produced a lighter and a cigarette. “Electricity,” he said before placing the smoke between his lips. “It’s the same thing that powers the lightbulbs and shit. Makes my factory go.”

    You followed his quick gesture to the glass balls that were hanging from the ceiling, eyes dancing with a curiosity even the cold still in your bones couldn’t put down. Light bulbs. Your mind was flooded with a storm of new questions; where did the electricity come from? Was it alive? Did it eat, did it sleep when the lights were turned off? A million of them sat on your tongue, but you weren’t able to get a one off and out into the open.

    Heisenberg exhaled a large cloud of smoke and pulled off his hat. “Well, you’re not gettin’ any warmer like that. C’mon.” He jerked his head in a gesture that motioned for you to follow. Wordlessly, you grabbed your belongings and trotted after him. He held at least a foot or so over you, resulting in one of his steps equaling two of yours.

    Much like Moreau and his mines, he seemed to know the twisting hallways and corridors of the factory like the back of his hand. The further from sunlight you went, the louder the clanks and hums and whirs of machinery became. They went unseen, protected by the walls surrounding you, but you still heard them. They reminded you of a heartbeat; low and thrumming and forgettable to those who were used to it, but always there.

    “So I take it Moreau doesn’t know you’re here, then?” Heisenberg asked after a long few minutes of walking through plain grey hallways. When you shook your head rather shamefully, he cracked a rare smile and gave a throaty chuckle. “Never expected you to be the disobedient type. Way too ‘Yes, my Lord,’ and ‘Right away, my Lord.’”

    You got the sense he was mocking you, but you heard no meanness or cruelty in his voice. No, he wasn’t intending to be rude, rather just poking fun, in the way that children did. “I told you, my Lord,” you said, only then realizing the irony in your words, “I fe-“

    “Fell from the cliff, right, I heard.” He took another drag before taking a sharp turn around a corner, forcing you to backtrack and hurry to catch up with him. “Listen, sweetheart, maybe you should spend some more time outside instead of down in that hole watching movies all day. Learn to walk on those legs of yours before you fall again and there’s no one around to help you.”

    You had no response to come back with, because he had led you through a wooden door - a deviant from the several metal ones you had passed - and into a small room that you instantly recognized as a bedroom. The mattress was a tangled mess of sheets and blankets, the nightstand and desk a jumbled mess that were crowded with blueprints and spare machine parts and personal affects. He had clothes strewn about across chairs and his walls were covered in plans, both on paper and the drywall itself. Spare boots sat on the floor, welding tools were stacked on a mat, books and pencils and sketches were piled high enough to challenge half your height. It was a stark opposite to the cold and emotionless factory around you; this was a home, the heart that poured blood into a system.

    Perhaps this was the place that powered the factory, and not the electricity.

    Heisenberg, unabashed as to having you in his private quarters, stepped into an adjacent room before emerging with a towel. He tossed it in your direction and you caught it gratefully, hesitating before using it to wring out what water was left in your hair and clinging to your skirts. He also gave you a pair of clean socks to wear under your boots; these you had to roll a few times around your ankles to make them fit.

    “May I ask where you’ve been?” you asked, surprising yourself with your boldness. You swallowed thick as you used one of the chairs to keep steady as you pulled your boots back on. “Both yourself and Lord Moreau were absent this evening.”

    He smothered what was left of his smoke in an ashtray as his face remained expressionless, a sculptor deciding just what face to form in response to your question. “You’re a snoopy little local, aren’t you?” he mused, a grin blinding you to the flicker of emotion in his eyes. “Takin’ care of business outside the gates. Mother Miranda’s orders.”

    The way he enunciated his words made it sound as though he was putting an ‘R’ on the end of his mother’s name. It provoked a small smile onto your lips, despite his teasing. “You’re an admirable man, my Lord,” you said. “Mother Miranda is lucky to have you as a son.”

    In some sick sort of way, his smile became lilted and he gave a chuckle that sounded far too forced to be real. “Sure,” was all he said on the matter. With a clearing of his throat when you returned the towel, he grabbed a few of the plans sitting on his desk before ushering you back out and into the hallway. “Now, come on. Wouldn’t want Moreau to tear apart the village lookin’ for his pretty little servant.”

    His words did not fall on deaf ears. You were unsure, though, if he was complimenting you or poking fun in the way that he had been since he had arrived back in the factory. Either way, you found it stirred up a fluttering ocean wave in the pit of your chest.

    The pair of you had just reached the garage again when a gentle noise pricked at your ears. Your steps faltered for a moment as you strained yourself in an attempt to catch whatever it was. Heisenberg heard it as well, but he seemed to know what it was right away. Before you could head for the garage’s open hatch, he shoved you by the shoulder behind him and slammed the hallway door just inches from your face. It came so close to hitting you, that you could see the grains of metal in its surface. You were just about to grab the handle, shout to him to let you out, before the noise - an insect-like buzzing - and voices floated through.

    “Uncle!” cried a young voice, soon accompanied by two others. You recognized them; Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters. “Uncle, come out! Where are you?”

    Heisenberg shouted out into the front yard. “Here, girls!” When you heard the materializing of his nieces on the metal floor, you pressed your ear against the door to hear better. “What do you brats want at this hour?”

    One of the girls giggled playfully. “Good evening to you as well, Uncle.”

    “Been watching your funny shows again?” asked another, and you heard the sound of the Casablanca being fiddled with. “Mother says your machines will rot your mind.”

    “Yeah, well, it’s a good thing she doesn’t have any in that big ass tower of hers.” Heisenberg’s lighter flipped and then snapped shut a second later. “I’ll ask again: what do you three want? Isn’t it past your bedtime or some shit? I’ve got work to do.”

    The third daughter gave a dramatic-sounding sigh, and the buzzing of their flies came dangerously close to the door you were hiding behind. You dared to even hold your breath in case they could hear you. “Moreau showed up on our doorstep,” she said, sounding like something akin to a complaint. “He’s lost his little plaything and has gone off to bother Donna. Mother sent us to see if you’ve seen her.”

    He gave a huff. “Haven’t seen her. Now get lost.”

    “So eager, Uncle. Have you got a new project you’re working on?”

    “Yeah. Now scram, you little pests. And tell that blood sucker of a mother not to send her damn bats after my dogs. They’re hard enough to control as is without being picked off from the sky.”

    The girls shared a giggly laugh before the buzzing of the flies increased in volume. “Goodnight, Uncle!” one of them called. It was a few long minutes before you heard them no more.

    You stepped back when the door opened again and Heisenberg held it open for you. “Come on,” he beckoned, eyes still trained on the open garage door. “Little shits.” Once you had padded though he let the door go, then winced and grabbed his shoulder.

    You turned to face him. “Are you hurt?” you asked quietly, as if keeping your voice down would lessen his pain. You fumbled with your hands nervously, shifting your weight from foot to foot, before you took a step closer. “I can help, if you’d like.”

    “I don’t need a damn nurse,” he said rather harshly, rolling the injured muscle.

    “Well, then,” you said, deciding to hold yourself tall and lower your hands to your side, “it’s fortunate I’m not a healer. I’m a seamstress.” You swallowed thick, then reached out and silently asked for permission to help him out of his coat. He regarded you for what seemed an eternity, features guarded and yet gentle in a way you couldn’t explain. You had never seen that firmness, that softness in his eyes before.

    Without any more words, he huffed in exasperation before shedding his top later and handing it over. You set it aside as he took a seat on a stool, tilting his head to the side and moving the necklaces that he wore his charms on around his neck. You caught sight of a long, deep scar that traveled up to the back of his neck, but said nothing and helped him out of his second layer. In just a sleeveless tunic now, you found that his left shoulder had been nicked. With what, you didn’t know. The graze of a bullet, the side swipe of a knife - it could have been either.

    You moved to the small cabinet on the wall he gestured to, in which you found a few bottles of alcohol and bandages. You cleaned the small wound with a rag doused in the stuff, placing a hand on his other shoulder to keep him there when he grunted in pain and shifted away.

    “Keep still,” you said, your voice more of a murmur than anything else. You had patched up your fair share of scrapes and cuts on your brother, whether from playing too roughly or when he hurt himself doing chores. You were accustomed to the steps, to the process. And still, doing it on Karl Heisenberg, it felt so completely different.

    His arms, toned and muscled in the right places, were held at his sides as he cradled his hands in his lap. His back was hunched, but not because of a bad habit, because he had done it all his life. The ends of his grey hair, a strange color considering his age, tickled your wrists as you wrapped the bandage around his shoulder and tied it to secure it in place. Even when you had finished, you found your fingers lingering on his skin.

    It wasn’t that you didn’t feel at home with Moreau in the Reservoir, that you didn’t want to return. It was that here at the factory, in this garage, you found you felt more at home. In the light, within the walls, where there was heat and real beds and windows to see the outside.

    Just like your old home.

    “There,” you said finally and drew yourself away from him. “Finished. You should change the gauze in the morning after you sleep.”

    “I don’t sleep,” Heisenberg said, almost as if he were cracking a joke, but there was no true humor in his voice, only the tone he forced. “I’ll just pour some whiskey on it with breakfast.”

    You said nothing. Instead, you wrapped your coat around yourself, then took up his own and draped it over your arm. “I’ll return tomorrow to return it,” you told him. “Allow me to repair it, as a way of saying thank you for helping me today.” You began to bow, then stopped yourself before him. “Goodnight, my Lord.”

    He watched you turn and head for the gate through the scrap-filled yard, brows drawn in what could have been confusion, perhaps conflict. He raised a hand to his mouth and whistled. A few Lycans appeared in the doorway, eyes glinting like animals in the light from the garage. He snapped his fingers before pointing in the way you had gone. In an instant, they scrambled over one another to follow you from a distance, never getting too close, only guarding you on your journey back to the Reservoir.

    You wouldn’t even know they were there, or that they had saved your life because he had placed you under his protection.

    tag list: @stararch4ngell4dy @bluewingedangel @durrtydawg @ambiguous-g @1800shootmeplease @avatamriel @artist-bby @mraes @theeerealpunkin @1-rosewiththorns @tortoisesandcrystals @how-am-i-serpose-to-know @angelicwolf98 @superwhoopsimarecluse @short-potato @apathetic-catastrophie @chrysanthykios @saraissleepy @adorb-connor @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @itsallaboutkey @kmt123whatsthetea @bodyelectrics @excessexpress @rumble1 @alstrodark @mrob-dream @j00nifi3d

    #re8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil lycans #karl heisenberg imagines #karl heisenberg x female reader #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #re8 ethan winters #ethan winters#lady dimitrescu#lady d #feed the machine fic
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  • blazetalks
    07.10.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    If you think about it, Karl Heisenberg is technically a tumblr sexyman (or maybe not cause he could be considered conventionally attractive) .he fits a LOT of the tropes and I see shit ton of thirst for him on this godforsaken website

    lets see:

    angst: he got kidnapped as kid by a crazy ass crow Karen and wants to be free and shit

    Dilf/gilf: he was born in the 1930’s so the youngest he could be is in his 80’s even tho he looks like he’s in his 40’s as well as the fandom usually calling him “ daddy/ metal daddy“

    distinctive voice: he has this accent that I can’t really describe and he sound like he talks in italics

    Quotable catchphrases: “ lady super sized 🅱️itch” “ugly ass psycho doll” “and that moronic freak” “lets see what you really made of Ethan Winters“ “ SHUT YOUR FUCKING HOLE” “I said SIT”

    Dominating: you can literally just watch a compilation of him and you can see

    Fanon splintering: the fandom usually portrays him as “ the cool uncle“ or “ suave daddy dom “

    father figure (fanon): theres a lot of aus where he’s roses (the main protags daughter) other father figure

    Johnlocked: a shit ton of the fandom ships him with Ethan ( the protagonist ) both Ironically and unironically cause of lines like “ I like you”, “ ethan has an interesting body himself“ and how flirty he sounds and it doesn't help that his voice actor did a proposal to Ethan in Karls voice ( I’ll try to find it later )

    Gay coded: have you SEEN how he sits ( and Like I said with the johnlocked part and theres no no way he’s straight)

    mad/feral scientist: he’s literally based of dr. Frankenstein and does experiments

    Monster features: a lot of people ( including myself) draw him with fangs/ sharp teeth and a lot of the fandom makes him a lycan/werewolf for some reason (he also has a fucked up mutated form)

    Power: he can control metal through electric fields and can transform into an abomination

    theme song: tho not canon or even having anything to do with Karl, a lot of people associate him with “ bed love“ by mario cause of a cursed shitpost animation made by neromai and most of the comments on the song are related to RE in some way

    Unkempt man: he literally showers once a week and just looks like a hobo ( hell people, inside and outside of the fandom call him “ hobo magneto“

    Villain:

    Long coat:

    so to summarize it. If Lucas Baker ( who is pretty much a hillbilly version of Karl ) can be a tumblr sexyman, so can Karl Heisenberg

    #You don’t want to imagine how much time this took #blaze talks#tumblr sexymen#tumblr sexyman#resident evil#Re #resident evil village #resident evil viii #Resident evil 8 #RE 8#re village#re viii#Biohazard#biohazard village #resident evil biohazard #Biohazard 8#karl heisenberg#Karl H #re karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #I am so sorry
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  • sserpente
    06.10.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    A/N: Bohoo! Two anons asked for some fluffy Heisenberg dancing with RC! How could I possibly say no to that? I’ve linked the song in the story. Enjoy, everyone!

    Words: 1294 Warnings: fluff

    “Get lost, girl. I’m working. I need to concentrate.” Heisenberg wiped the sweat from his forehead as he leaned over his desk, tinkering on what resembled a human brain made entirely of metal. With a sigh, you moved away from him, returning to the corner you had made yourself comfortable in to pout.

    He had kidnapped you, so he might as well entertain you. It must have been several weeks ago now. Heisenberg had found you after you got lost in the woods on your hiking trip. You had somehow ended up near the edge of the village close to his factory. Had he not saved you—for a reason that yet remained unknown to you—you would have become a werewolf snack.

    He had told you everything after the initial shock and your willingness to throw everything at him that was light enough for you. As far as you were concerned, Mother Miranda still had no clue you existed—and Heisenberg intended to keep it that way, knowing that she’d likely implant you with a Cadou if she found out about you.

    While part of you was flattered, another had long realised that Karl Heisenberg wasn’t quite… sane. Or perhaps he was just an evil man at the core? He had locked you up in his factory to keep you “all to himself” and yet it seemed that even he didn’t really know what that meant. He could have assaulted you numerous times and yet, he hadn’t. In fact, the more time you spent here, the more you realised that all he wanted was probably some company—even if he’d never admit that to himself.

    “Could you turn on the radio?” You asked, crossing your arms before your chest. Yesterday, you had sorted his screws by shape and size. Last week, you had counted every single piece of metal in his workshop. You were getting bored.

    Heisenberg grumbled something under his breath. Without even looking up from his work, he used his powers to do as you asked. He’d managed to manipulate the waves for it to receive some popular channels outside of Romania, meaning you got to listen to the charts every now and then. Not that Heisenberg was particularly fond of this type of music. He preferred the heavy stuff—rock, metal and alike—over what you liked to listen to any day.

    The monotone voice of a radio journalist echoed through the workshop a fraction of a second later. Humming when you heard him say that Halloween was now fast approaching, you flipped around on your chair in search of something to do and distract yourself from feeling sad about not being able to dress up and go to a Halloween party this year. You could sort his tools, come to think of it. You stood, walking over to him once more. Obviously, you were going to start with those he wasn’t using right now—you were already treading on rather thin ice today, after all—when suddenly, a new song came on.

    Your jaw dropped. You loved this song and ironically… it fit quite well. Giggling to yourself, you started dancing and moving your lips to the lyrics.

    Something’s going on, just look around… fear is on the rise, and there’s blood all over the ground…

    You could see Heisenberg glancing at you from the corner of his eyes when your demeanour changed. Still dancing, you grabbed one of the toolboxes.

    “What do you think you’re doing?”

    “What does it look like I’m doing, I’m dancing! I love this song!”

    We got ‘em now, just break them down a little bit more…

    Clapping your hands, you started singing. “I SAID HEY YOU FEED THE MACHINE, BRING ‘EM ALL BACK DOWN TO THEIR KNEES, NO TIME TO WASTE, REMIND THE SLAVES, AIN’T GONNA MAKE IT OUT ALIVE TODAY, I SAID HEY YOU POISON THE WELL, WATCH IT ALL BURN, TAKE ‘EM STRAIGHT TO HELL, HE’S GOT THE WHOLE WORLD IN HIS HANDS, IT WAS NICE TO KNOW YOU, WE’VE ALL BEEN DAMNED, COME ON!” Laughing, you gasped for air and then, much to your surprise, Heisenberg shook his head and grinned.

    “You’re one weird fucking woman.”

    “Oh yeah? Well, something about that must have intrigued you about me, I’m still here, after all! Keep working on your brain, Magneto and let me at least have some fun!” You retorted, knowing that your nickname for him always hit a nerve—especially because he didn’t know what you meant by it. Dancing along to the second verse, you set the toolbox aside again. The music was just too fucking great to start sorting Heisenberg’s shit now.

    “Fine, you wanna dance? Then let’s dance.” He moved so fast you couldn’t have escaped his clutches even if you had wanted to when he jumped up from his chair and wrapped his arm around your waist, the other taking a hold of your hand. The leather of his gloves was warm with his body heat, and you could smell the cigars on him as he moved even closer to you but surprisingly… took the lead incredibly well. Moving in tune with the rhythm, you danced across the hard ground, his sly and self-absorbent grin making you smile. Come to think of it, he was quite a goof under all that scrap metal.

    You laughed when he swirled you around and lifted you off your feet at some point, not so much dancing with you as dancing carrying you around the workshop. You had no idea what devil had ridden him all of a sudden but something told you that he quite enjoyed the song too.

    The chorus came on one last time and you screamed out the lyrics as if your life depended on it, pretending for just a split second that you were at a live concert and Heisenberg had heaved you on his shoulders so you could see the band better. It almost made up for the fact you weren’t gonna be celebrating Halloween this year.

    Even though… actually…

    Panting, he put your feet on the ground again when the song ended and the radio journalist’s voice came on again. For a moment that lasted a little too long, you simply looked into each other’s eyes. Heisenberg was the first one to blink and release you, moving back to his desk almost as if nothing had happened.

    You smiled, deciding not to make a big deal out of it. “Do you celebrate Halloween here?” You asked instead.

    “Do I celebrate what now?”

    “Halloween? You know? The spooky festival at the end of October?”

    “I’ve heard of it.” He replied, directing his attention towards his stupid brain again. He really was obsessed with that metal army of his.

    “So? Are you celebrating?” You probed.

    “No.”

    “Right, that’s going to change. I want to carve pumpkins, make a pumpkin pie, dive for apples, dress up, get drunk and dance all night.”

    “That sounds like an awful lot of demands from someone who’s not in charge.” He mumbled with a hint of a threat in his voice. Well, you knew him well enough by now that he wouldn’t harm you unless you tried to sabotage his revenge plans. Next thing you knew, you could hear him sigh quietly.

    “I’ll ask the Duke to get you everything you need.” He murmured under his breath. You grinned, your triumph making you brave and bolt. Wrapping your arms around him, you hugged him from behind, feeling him freeze, and then finally grabbed the toolbox.

    “Thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be sorting your tools now and I’d gladly appreciate it if you let me concentrate.” You could still hear his chuckle when you returned to your corner.

    -

    A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente Big hug!

    #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg imagine #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg x female reader #heisenberg#heisenberg imagine #heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg re8 #karl heisenberg re8 imagine #resident evil #resident evil imagine #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 imagine #resident evil village #resident evil village imagine #re8#re8 imagine
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  • aesthetic-all
    05.10.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    im sucker for soft mother miranda and her human girlfriend

    art credit: annasassiart on tumblr (it’s gorgeous I need more 👉🏻👈🏻)

    #mother miranda#mia winters #mother miranda x mia winters #resident evil #resident evil village #revillage#re8#re8 village#wlw #resident evil edit #fanart#alcina dimitrescu#karl heisenberg#donna beneviento#capcom #just imagine the amount of softness #potential story behind them #miranda called mia ’lovely’ #i wish there would be more ffcs about them #miaranda
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  • dangerousstrawberryshark
    01.10.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    Couch Fun

    A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! This is day one of Kinktober. Couldn't come up with a better title.

    Day 1: Degradation & Leg Grinding

    Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x male reader

    Rating: Mature

    Word Count: 860

    Summary: you were just sitting on Karl's lap more specifically, his leg. And then things took a turn

    DISCLAIMER: I never played or watched any gameplay of the resident evil series. So, don't be upset if something is wrong.

    Thank You!: Credit goes to @softboy5393 for the plot.

    I hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's bad! And sorry for any errors that are found! I don't think I did the degradation right...

    «⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

    Tags: @softboy5393

    It was just a lazy day today. You were sitting on your boyfriend's lap, the one and only, Lord Karl Heisenberg. Yes, you were dating one of the four lords of the region.

    He was just sitting down half-naked with his muscles and abs showing off. You had his shirt on, it was big on you, and you weren't wearing any pants only boxers.

    You had one of your arms wrapped around his neck with his left arm wrapped around your waist. Your hands were roaming his chest, his grip on you began to tighten.

    Then, Karl began to bounce his leg up and down. You were sitting on his lap but more specifically his leg. And this accidentally caused you to have a boner. 'Not now!' You yelled in your mind.

    But he kept doing it, he was unaware that you were getting hard from him tapping his leg. He was stuck in his own little world. You began to grind against his leg, hoping he wouldn't notice.

    Karl felt something hard moving against his thigh and looked to see you grinding your boner against his leg. He could hear you breathing hard and see your face all fluster.

    "You're getting hard from me tapping my leg? Pathetic, little slut." Karl said into your ear with his deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.

    You whimpered, tightening your arm around him. "How about removing those boxers? Show me that pathetic hard cock. Mmm, you know what? I'll remove them."

    Before you knew it, Karl ripped your boxers off. You could feel his hand grope and squeeze your plump ass. "Maybe later, I'll get to pound this tight ass. Feel your ass clench around me." he kept saying in your ear.

    You then felt a stinging pain on your ass. "Keep grinding, you fucking slut." You grind more against his leg. Pre-cum was leaking out of your cock and onto his leg.

    "Look at you baby. Look how you’re cock is drooling on my leg, making it nice and slick." the air was getting thick around. More pre-cum was leaking out onto his leg as your grind faster.

    "You want my fat cock tearing open your slutty hole? Want to be filled with hot cum. My cock is so hard right from watching my little whore grinding on my leg." Karl said just talking dirty. Which you liked very much.

    Sure enough, when you looked at his crotch. A large bulge was there being held captive by his pants. There was also a wet spot forming as well.

    "You make so fucking hard, I just wanna take you right here. Mmm, I think I have another idea." Karl said before removing his pants and underwear.

    His nice meaty cock sprang free from its restriction. "How about you use those slutty little hands and pleasure daddy?" Karl smirked with his cock standing hard and raging red.

    You looked at his raging boner. Pre-cum was oozing from the tip, veins were popping out, and its was twitching waiting to be touched. "Keep grinding those while you give me a handjob."

    You hesitantly grabbed his meaty cock. It felt heavy and the heat was radiating off of it. You traced your fingertip across the large vein that leads up to his tip.

    You felt him grip your ass tighter. "Stop teasing," Karl growled. You whimpered. You began to jerk him while still grinding on his leg. His pre-cum was getting all over your hand as you jerked him off. "Fuck, work that cock you fucking whore."

    Karl threw his head back, his chest moving up and down. "After we're done, I'm gonna wreck this tight boy pussy of yours. Turn you into my cumslut. That's your only reason in this world, to be my cumdump."

    You moaned, rubbing yourself more against him. You could feel your end coming and Karl's cock was twitching meaning he was close too.

    "Fuck, I'm close." you jerked him off harder and grind against him harder. "F-fuck... I'M CUMMING!" Karl threw his head back and thrust his crotch into your hand.

    Karl exploded all over your hand and some got onto his stomach. You came all over his leg. You collapsed onto his chest. "Don't think this is over. We're going for round 2," Karl whispered into your ear before lifting you up and carrying you to his room.

    THE END

    A/N: That was day one of kinktober. Be ready for the second day tomorrow! Bye, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

    #x male reader #male reader imagine #male reader insert #male reader #karl heisenberg x male reader #karl heisenberg imagines #resident evil fanfic #resident evil village #bottom male reader #kinktober#kinktober 2021
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  • buryustogether
    28.09.2021 - 4 weeks ago

    FEED THE MACHINE - CHAPTER 7

    summary: while doing something you’re not supposed to, the consequences of your actions catch up with you. the fabled beasts of the village stories offer you a strange form of help.

    word count: 3k

    author’s note: oh, to be gazed at so tenderly by a lycan…

    Lord Moreau was nervous, and that was never a good thing.

    It was Monday evening - the very first Monday since you had come to be at his service that he did not send you to deliver invitations for picture show night. When you questioned him as to why, all the while toying with your forbidden information in the back of your head, all he would give up was that there was something he needed to tend to.

    Your pocket watch currently read to you that it was nearly eight o’ clock, the time you and the brothers would regularly begin your films on the Casablanca. You watched rather curiously from the doorframe of your little shack in the mines as Moreau scuttled about his own living space in a stumbling flurry. He was stuffing small objects into his pockets, securing his valuables that he didn’t hide very well at all. He was so busy, in fact, that he didn’t seem to hear you approach over his own quiet ramblings and the creaks he created along the floorboards.

    “My Lord?” you asked hesitantly, and jumped when he himself startled. He turned around to face you, hood pulled low over his face and his crown of fish bones securing it in place. “Is something the matter? Can I help you?”

    Moreau struggled for words for a moment before he waved his webbed hands and crowded you back towards your own shack. “No, no, Y/N, you mustn’t ask. Do not ask. Doesn’t concern you.” He stopped, then stooped precariously to pull out one of his black rectangles that the picture shows seemed to be kept on. “Here. Take this one. Watch it w-without me.” He hobbled off the floorboards and began to make his way to the mine entrance before he paused again. His tail flapped a few times against the stone floor. “Do-don’t leave here until I return,” he said, the very first true order he had ever given you. “Promise?”

    Your fingers tightened their grip around the rectangle. You made swears like this to Anthony all the time - what was the difference? “I promise it, my Lord.”

    Moreau nodded his head a few times, as if attempting to convince himself you were going to be here and only here, before he disappeared down the path that led outside. The slaps of his wet feet against the floor faded into nothingness, leaving you in the silence of your own breaths and the thick-clouded confusion hovering over your head.

    You took a step in the direction he had gone, then shook your head and turned to press the button on the Casablanca that caused the glassy surface to jump to life. You scolded yourself for even considering following him; you were never meant to hear what you had. You were not meant to see what the Lords were doing in their own time, the beasts outside your gates they were protecting you from. Mother Miranda constantly preached that the outsiders were only there to harm the villagers, expose them to lies and treachery that would drive them mad. You should have been ashamed for wanting to see it for yourself. To want to see them, to witness it for yourself, was to go against Miranda’s plan to protect you.

    And Mother Miranda was your savior. She was your guide. She would never allow you to get hurt on her watch.

    Folding your legs beneath your skirts, you sat close to the Casablanca as it accepted the black rectangle and began to send the picture show across its face. The words ‘Wuthering Heights’ flashed before your features, but you were hardly able to pay much attention to them. Your curiosity was holding your thoughts captive.

    Just who were the mysterious forces that the four Lords were fending off outside the north gates? You understood they were the beasts from out of limits, of course, but what did they want with the village? Were they there to kidnap the commoners, kill them, hurt them? Despite the fear that came along with it, you wanted to know. The Lords would protect the village, protect you. So what was the harm in simply taking a glance?

    You hesitated for a few moments longer before standing and letting the picture show run without any eyes to take in the love story it was spewing out. Boot heels knocking quietly against the wooden floorboards, you crouched to nudge through the wicker basket on the ground that contained a few of Moreau’s contraptions and more advanced possessions he had shown you your first week here. Producing a rusted pair of binoculars, you held them close to your chest and hurried from the cavernous stomach of the mines.

    You knew these maze-like passages now, practically like the stitches on the backs of your gloves. Not only did Moreau’s constant coming and goings leave a beaten-down path in the gravel to guide you out, but you had also memorized the direction the glass balls affixed to the walls had to offer. They led you right out and into the open air, which you inhaled quick, your lungs filling with the familiar sharp pang of cold. The snow on the ground crunched beneath your feet as you hurried your way up the small slope that led to the Reservoir’s gates, careful to step in Moreau’s footsteps so that he wouldn’t be able to tell you had followed him out here.

    You reached the front of the territory and stepped around the pigs, Foster and Cane, who had gotten considerably fatter since you had begun to take care of them. The rose bushes that surrounded the sides of the great windmill had grown back, blooming despite the frigid air that attempted to stamp them out. Unlocking the door that led inside the windmill with the key Moreau had entrusted to you, you stepped inside and began to climb the tall ladder that would lead you to the top. The wooden steps groaned and creaked in a protest that seemed to echo for miles. With the binoculars secured in your coat pocket, you threw up the hatch up top and clambered out.

    The small catwalk on the windmill’s top was short and narrow, and there were only rickety-looking rail guards to keep you from falling into the water that churned calmly below. The gigantic blades, made of rotted wood and canvas that was tearing in places the weather had gotten to them, spun in a rather eerie rotation as you ducked under them and faced the northern part of the village’s territory. From way up here, practically part of the dreary clouds, you were able to see just behind the gates, where motion caught your eye and attention. You hurried to clean the binoculars on your skirts before lifting them to your face.

    Just beyond the gates, there was what seemed to be a scuffle happening between the shivering trees and dilapidated rooftops. Figures clad in dark material wielded guns, like the rifles the hunters often used, but these firearms were bigger, more complex. From what you could see, the barrels were outfitted with sharp cylinders and the stocks were accessorized with extra ammunition and blinking lights. Cracks that were loud enough to be heard from there reached your ears. You shifted the binoculars to swivel toward the gates, where you recognized the towering figure of Lady Dimitrescu guarding the entrance to the village. The winged gargoyles from her castle fluttered like butterflies above the scene, then dove like hornets to snatch up the intruders and carry them into the unknown.

    A flash of grey caught your eye and you shifted slightly again to catch sight of Lord Heisenberg standing atop a jagged cliff with one hand raised, as if he were praying to the heavens. Instead of divine intervention for the poor souls that were trying to enter the village, wicked-looking pieces of metal and shrapnel assaulted them from all sides and caused the gunfire to cease.

    A small, prideful smile found its way to your lips, despite the awful booms and cracks that you heard. They were defending their people, defending you, just as they had your entire life. They may have been intimidating and even frightening some days, but the Lords truly did care enough to -

    The thought was wiped from your mind as quick as one of the gunshots when one of the railings you had been leaning against snapped under the pressure of your weight. You went careening forward, the binoculars flying from your grasp. You had only a moment to realize what was happening before the world was spinning like a hurricane around you and your heart had leapt up through your chest and into your throat. You didn’t have time to cry out, to even scream, before you slammed into the icy water below the windmill.

    At first, your body was numb, immune to the waves and bubbles that surrounded you like a dizzying incantation. You felt yourself hiccup, unable to see from behind the temporary safety of your eyelids, and water filled your nose and flooded down your throat. The frigid, freezing temperature of the water hit you like a charging bull, limbs refusing to work properly and lungs filling uselessly with the inky darkness around you. Fingers clawing, legs kicking, you fought against the gentle current that oh so torturously held you under. It felt as though you had been wrapped in a blanket and held under the stream running through the village.

    Just when your chest began to swell with the knowledge you wouldn’t ever take another breath, when your hands had stiffened and given up their good fight, you felt a force plunge into the water somewhere nearby. There was a short moment in which white noise filled your ears before someone grabbed the back of your coat and began to pull you upwards, toward light, toward sound.

    The moment you escaped the endless pitfall of the lake, your lungs at last rejected the icy water sitting in your chest and you released a storm of gargled coughs and hacks. Whoever it was that had pulled you out was still dragging you back onto the rocky shore, only releasing when you faintly pulled from their grasp. Hand flying to cover your thundering heart, you continued to spit out what liquid remained in your throat, face flushed a violent scarlet that came from your powerful heaves and coughs that came dangerously close to vomiting.

    Finally able to lift your head without feeling the world spin, you reached up a hand to wipe away the hair sticking to your face and turned to your savior. You expected it to be Moreau returned from the gates early, or perhaps even a villager that had seen you fall. Instead, you found yourself staring back at a Lycan.

    Unable to control yourself, you released a short yelp of surprise and scrambled back a few feet. The beast-like creature startled as well, nostrils flaring and baring its jagged rows of teeth. On all fours, it paced before you on the shoreline, once a man and now something incredibly not. Its hair was long and dark, hanging in its face, and where its fingernails should have been were talon-like claws that could have easily torn through your stomach and come out the other side without slowing. And yet, it did nothing of the sort. It continued to pace, golden eyes reflecting a magnificent yellow from the water you weren’t aware a gaze could hold. You could have sworn you saw some kind of emotion in there, some flicker of something past its feral exterior.

    Your coat and skirts weighing you down with the excess water still dripping off in fountains, you slowly stood and wrapped your arms around yourself. The Lycan stopped its pacing to regard you for a moment, eyes watchful and observant, before it crawled forward and circled around you. Instinctively, you skittered away, deeper into the weeds that poked through the snowy mush on the bank. It seemed to be pleased, and again pattered towards you. Another step back, another rush forward. It only occurred to you once the lake had vanished over a hill that the beast was herding you, like a sheepdog.

    Shivering like a child without a roof, you slowly submitted and allowed yourself to be guided through the thickets and tightly-threaded woods that separated Moreau’s territory with another. The Lycan treaded heavily behind you, skittering this way and that when you deviated from the set path. It was obvious to you it was leading you someplace, but to where, you did not know. A solid strike of fear impaled you; was it taking you to the old church? Would you be punished for disobeying your Lord, for going out of your way to do just what he said not to?

    Overhead, a crow watched you from the tree limbs before crying out and taking off towards the village.

    The minutes of walking ticked on slowly, and your shivering only worsened by the minute. Your teeth began to chatter uncontrollably and your hair clung to your neck and face like seaweed. You hardly even noticed when, from hidden crevices and nooks in the rock faces and caverns you passed, another Lycan or two emerged to follow you. They yipped and growled at one another, communicating in some way that made your skin crawl - and not from the gooseflesh that was covering your arms.

    Soon, the trees started to thin and the sky, unmarred by naked branches reaching upwards like fingers, emerged back into view. Smoke wafted up from over the slope you were cresting, giving way to their origin; the smokestacks that sat atop Heisenberg’s factory. The brick and metal building was less intimidating here from a distance, its gates and hunks of scrap metal and tractors resembling that of a pretty picture of a farm. You recalled the storybooks your brother read every night, telling of farmers that tended to their crop and cattle; Mother Miranda had approved them herself when the Duke had brought them from his travels.

    You stopped at the stone bridge that was suspended over the rushing river that separated Heisenberg’s territory from the rest of the village. Just the hissing of the water crashing against the rocks below made your shivering worsen, and you found yourself slowly waddling your way across the path. The Lycans seemed pleased and took off in a sprint to launch themselves onto the fence and climb over the top. They howled in short bursts and yapped and snarled, tearing their way over the barrier and leaving the gate halfway open for you. Without many thoughts in your head instead of the cold that dug deep into your bones, you wiggled into the front yard and didn’t bother closing the gate behind you. Your boots dug into the muddy ground as you treaded your way between the wreckage and toward the factory’s garage, which you found you could open with a powerful heave.

    A small bubble of hesitation, of fear, sat in your throat as you stood and regarded your surroundings. You had never been here without Lord Heisenberg, and never often enough to know where you were or where he kept a fireplace. You assured yourself as you stepped further inside, leaving puddles on the floor, that he would understand. You’d had an accident, that was all, and the Lycans had brought you here. Surely he wouldn’t mind… would he?

    Seeking some form of comfort, unable to locate a blanket or anything to emit heat of any kind, you crossed the room and clicked the panel on the Casablanca sitting on a shelf. The glassy surface jumped to life and you nearly startled when a picture show, already inserted into the machine, began to resume. Instead of moving frames that depicted real people in costumes and realistic backgrounds, two-dimensional figures with large eyes and noodle limbs danced about the screen in a practiced harmony that mesmerized you. Music composed of trumpets and pianos and other instruments you didn’t recognize poured from the sides and you found yourself enraptured in a trance, unable to pull yourself away.

    What on earth was this? It wasn’t anything like the films Moreau had shown you. No, this contained dancing dogs and a woman with curly black hair in her undergarments. Surely Mother Miranda would never approve of this; so why did he have it?

    You shrugged off your drenched coat and moved your hair off your neck, then kicked off your shoes and stockings as well. Everything still soaked you from head to toe. When your bare feet hit the metal floor, they detected a small source of heat that came from a lowly-rumbling machine in the corner. You approached it, the Casablanca continuing to spew twisted music, and extended a hand to place upon its surface. A gentle sigh escaped your lips; it was warm and soothed your iced fingers.

    Just a moment later, you were curled up against the machine, knees tucked under your chin and eyes trained on the picture show that danced for you in performance. You were far too tired to get up and make the walk back to the Reservoir; as your eyelids grew heavy and your thoughts became fuzzy, you could only pray that Heisenberg would be as forgiving as you hoped.

    tag list: @stararch4ngell4dy @bluewingedangel @durrtydawg @ambiguous-g @1800shootmeplease @avatamriel @artist-bby @mraes @theeerealpunkin @1-rosewiththorns @tortoisesandcrystals @how-am-i-serpose-to-know @angelicwolf98 @superwhoopsimarecluse @short-potato @apathetic-catastrophie @chrysanthykios @saraissleepy @adorb-connor @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @itsallaboutkey @kmt123whatsthetea @bodyelectrics @excessexpress @rumble1 @alstrodark @mrob-dream @j00nifi3d

    #re8 #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg imagines #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil lycans #karl heisenberg x reader smut #heisenberg #re8 ethan winters #ethan winters#lady d#lady dimitrescu
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  • fandom-imagines
    25.09.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Wish you were sober

    Fandom: Resident Evil (Village)

    Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Reader

    Warnings: Alcohol consumption.

    I have no idea what this is but I wanted to write something real quick for funny hobo man. 

    It was one of the rare occasions at the Dimitrescu castle where music was playing and everyone was being friendly; it was a party, after all. There was no arguing between Karl and Alcina, and Y/N was willing to bet that the only reason for that was the insane amount of alcohol Heisenberg had consumed.

    “Y/N, Y/N,” the slurred voice of Heisenberg was barely heard over the loud music. “What’s a girl as pretty as you doing alone out here?” A hiccup fell from his lips shortly after his question.

    Spinning around, Y/N spotted a stumbling Karl with another beer in his hand. Despite all this, he had a confident smirk on his lips.

    “Karl.” She greeted calmly, despite the racing her heart was doing at being alone in his presence.

    “Ouch, Karl. Where’s the usual cute nicknames?” He frowned.

    “You’re drunk.”

    “Oh, really? Only way I can cope with this shitty company.”

    A small giggle fell from Y/N’s lips. “I’m hurt, Heis.”

    Eyes wide, he rushed to speak.

    “Not you! You know I love you really.”

    Now it was Y/N’s turn to have wide eyes.

    “You don’t mean that, Heisenberg.” She sighed, awkwardly turning her attention back to the snow outside.

    “Sure, I do. I mean look at you, what’s not to love? My pretty princess. I would give you everything if you’d let me.” He slurred.

    “Real sweet, but I wish you were sober.” She whispered before wordlessly leaving the castle, praying her wouldn’t follow her.

    *

    Y/N had no idea how many days had passed since the incident at Dimitrescu Castle, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Knowing how much time had passed would be realising how long she hadn’t left her room, and that wouldn’t be the best thing to know. In fact, she would have remained in her room forever had a knock not sounded on the door of her home.

    “Karl?” His name fell from her lips the moment she realised who was stood in front of her. “What’re you doing here?”

    Deadly silent, he slipped past her as he headed into the centre of the room.

    “Okay…?” Y/N whispered, quietly closing the door behind them both.

    “You’re avoiding me.” Karl stated bluntly, as though he didn’t want to say much. “Why?”

    A bright blush ran up to her cheeks as she realised that he didn’t remember.

    “I’m not. I’ve just been busy.” The lie sounded believable, at least in her mind.

    “Ah, yes. I’m sure you are considering that you look like you haven’t moved in days.” He sighed.

    The dark circles beneath his eyes made him seem exhausted; be it physically or mentally, she didn’t know. A frown pulled at his lips, and he seemed hurt.

    “Right, yeah.”

    “Why are you lying to me? I mean, c’mon, Y/N/N. You never lie to me.”

    Her eyes darted to the ground, looking anywhere but Karl who was almost analysing her to see if he could figure anything out.

    “You really don’t want to know.”

    “If it means you won’t avoid me, then I do. So tell me.”

    “You said you love me, but you were drunk so it’s fine.”

    A bright blush reached Heisenberg’s cheeks and ears, a simple ‘oh’ being all he could say.

    A sad smile crawled onto Y/N’s lips as her eyes remained on the ground, not daring to look up at him.

    “It’s fine. Like I said, you were drunk; it doesn’t matter.”

    By the time she looked up, Karl was already stood in front of her, face full of uncertainty yet determined.

    “Forgive me if I’ve misread the situation, but I need to do this in case I haven’t.” Was all he said before he pressed his lips against Y/N’s, both their eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

    Her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling his closer, whilst one of his hands rested on her waist, the other lightly caressing her cheeks as their lips moved in sync. It was clear he was experienced. He was too good at this to not be.

    “I’m sorry I said that when I was drunk.” He mumbled against her lips as they pulled away, heads resting against the others. “I should’ve told you sooner.” His whispered nervously, almost as though he was afraid that she’d push him away, despite having kissed him back.

    “I love you too, Heis.” She smiled, one which grew as she noticed to blush on his cheeks darken, both at her confession and the use of the nickname.

    “Well, yeah. I sure hope you do.” He joked as he pulled away, unsure of what to do now.

    Y/N giggled, watching the older man awkwardly stand in front of her.

    It was amusing how someone who could easily kill somebody without even trying was stood red-faced and nervous because of her. It was sweet.

    “You’re sweet.” She smiled, gently taking his calloused hand in her own which made him blush deeper.

    “Only for you.”

    #Resident evil #Resident evil x reader #Resident evil imagine #Resident evil imagines #Resident evil fanfic #Resident evil fanfiction #Resident evil one shot #Resident evil one shots #Resident evil karl #resident evil heisenberg #Resident evil karl heisenberg #Resident evil village #Resident evil village x reader #Resident evil village imagine #Resident evil village imagines #Resident evil village fanfic #Resident evil village fanfiction #Heisenberg #Heisenberg x reader #Heisenberg imagine#Heisenberg imagines#Heisenberg fanfic#Heisenberg fanfiction #Heisenberg one shot #Karl Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg x reader #Karl Heisenberg imagine #Karl Heisenberg imagines #Karl Heisenberg fanfic #Karl Heisenberg fanfiction
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  • snailcreatureofthevoid
    25.09.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Kisses for everyone except the people who write one block of text and don’t use paragraphs. Sleep with one eye open, rat.

    #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #albedo x reader #monster girlfriend #childe x reader #mha headcanons #heisenberg x reader #resident evil village #mha imagines#mha aizawa #resident evil karl heisenberg #resident evil lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #aether x reader #zhongli x reader #aether x y/n #aizawa smut#aizawa imagine#fanfic #I hate you
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  • fandom-imagines
    24.09.2021 - 1 mont ago

    pov: you’re betraying mother miranda with heisenberg; a resident evil village playlist

    new playlist :)

    #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil village #resident evil playlist #resident evil playlists #resident evil village x reader #resident evil village imagine #resident evil village imagines #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil village karl heisenberg #horror#re #re x reader #heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg imagine#heisenberg imagines#heisenberg fanfiction#heisenberg fanfic#heisenberg simp#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #karl heisenberg imagines #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenberg fanfiction
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  • void-bitten-ghost
    24.09.2021 - 1 mont ago

    Honestly how dare Capcom deny us the-

    "You dare disobey your mother like this, Heisenberg?"

    "FUCK. YOU. YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER. YOU NEVER WERE MY MOTHER. AND YOU ARE INHERENTLY INCAPABLE OF EVER BEING A MOTHER AGAIN."

    -exchange in a final boss fight with a 'team up' ending. No one can quite get under your skin like 'family' can, after all

    #resident evil 8 #resident evil: village #karl heisenberg#mother miranda#i just #i just look at the ending to this game and think 'You Could've Done So Much MORE With This' #like #DO MUCH MORE #could you imagine multiple endings??? #even just the classic Good/Neutral/Bad/True endings #its a AAA game #about zombies aliens and bioweapons #they could've #but they chose not to #im salty okay
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  • buryustogether
    24.09.2021 - 1 mont ago

    “I SAID SIT”

    #ehehe#my meme #heisenberg x reader #karl Heisenberg #karl heisenberg imagines #re8 meme #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 memes #re8 memes
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