#i guess that's another reason why i thought that she was the duke's daughter! that dress doesn't help!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beifongsss · 4 years ago

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the boiling rock [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Disclaimer!: The reader is Sokka and Katara’s older sister!

Requested?: Yes! By @thegirlwholikestomanythings: “ Hi! I have a Zuko x reader request if you don't mind. Maybe something like the reader being Katara and Sokka's older sister and Zuko having a big crush on her after he joins in S3?”

Summary: Sokka goes to break Hakoda out of The Boiling Rock and is shocked to find you there as well. He’s even more shocked when he figures out that Zuko’s a simp for you.

this is based off of the boiling rock episodes but there are a few changed made! there’s also like a pov change halfway i’m sorry. TIS A LONG ONE!!

.masterlist.

When Zuko defeated Combustion Man, Aang didn’t let him join the group until he gained approval from all of his friends.

“Toph, you're the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

The blind earthbender smirked, a sinister look on her face as she pounded her fist into her palm. “Go ahead and let him join. It'll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet.”

Satisfied with her answer, Aang turned to the Water Tribe boy. “Sokka?”

“Hey, all I want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then, I'm all for it,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall near him.

“Katara?” Aang asked uncertainly, noticing the stony look on the Water Tribe girl’s face.

“I'll go along with whatever you think is right,” she replied, glaring at Zuko.

“Great!” Aang said, ignoring Katara’s reaction. “Then that’s settled. Welcome to the group Zuko!”

Zuko paused slightly, looking around as he noticed the absence of the other Water Tribe girl he had always seen with the Gaang.

“Not that I’m complaining,” the prince said, a questioning look in his eyes. “But isn’t there someone else you should be asking? Where’s the other Water Tribe girl?”

The group went silent at Zuko’s words as Katara’s face hardened and Sokka looked away, a sad expression making it’s way onto his face.

“She’s gone,” Sokka said roughly as he began to storm off.

Katara reached out for his arm, grabbing onto him as he passed her. “Sokka, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Not my fault?” Sokka roared, stray tears escaping his eyes as he faced Katara. “It was my invasion plan Katara! I should’ve taken the fall. Not her!”

He shrugged her hand off before walking off deeper into the Air Temple. Katara sent Zuko another glare before hurrying after her brother, leaving him alone with Aang and Toph. Zuko glanced at Aang uneasily, not wanting to ask about what had happened. With a sigh, Aang sat down looking at Zuko expectantly.

The prince sat down across from Aang as Toph sat to his left, the usually loud-mouthed girl abnormally quiet.

“The other Water Tribe girl that would travel with us is (Y/N),” Aang explained quietly. “She’s Sokka and Katara’s older sister.”

Zuko nodded in response before speaking. “W-What happened to her?”

“She got captured by the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun,” Aang replied, looking down at his lap. “You know about the invasion right?”

Zuko nodded once more.

“Well it was Sokka’s invasion plan,” Aang continued. Zuko’s eyebrows rose up in surprise, going unnoticed by Aang. “He came up with it and (Y/N) and Hakoda, that’s their dad, fine tuned it. They thought of everything that could possibly go wrong and when the day came, Sokka was the one leading it.”

Aang’s face suddenly turned into one full of guilt. “I-It was actually my fault that she got captured. If I hadn’t gotten distracted by Azula, we could’ve gotten away before the eclipse was over. Instead, they caught up to us before we could get back to the beach. Hakoda told us all to leave on Appa and to take the youngest members of the group but (Y/N) didn’t fit because we had Teo, Haru, and The Duke with us. So she decided to stay behind and take the blame for the invasion so that they wouldn’t go out and look for us. She said that they’d believe her because she was traveling with the Avatar and because she was the daughter of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and she had a reason to want to attack the Fire Nation.”

Aang couldn’t stop the tear that slipped out. “I guess she was right because we weren’t followed after we escaped.”

“C’mon Twinkletoes,” Toph said, leaning back on her hands. “(Y/N) knew what she was getting into. She’s not dumb. She’s strong, smart, and patient. In fact, I’m willing to bet she’s making those Fire Nation guard’s lives hell.”

Zuko observed Toph as she spoke about the missing Water Tribe girl. “How are you so sure?”

“Please,” Toph scoffed, cracking her knuckles. “She’s the only idiot here that can beat me in a fight. She’ll be fine.”

“Oh,” Zuko said, slightly surprised. “Is she a waterbender too?”

“Nope,” Toph said. “That’s how I know she’s okay. She can beat me in a fight, and I’m the greatest earthbender in the world! I invented metalbending.”

Zuko’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at Toph’s words. “She beat you without any bending?”

“She did,” Sokka’s voice rang out. The group (except Toph) turned around to find Sokka walking towards them. “Which is why we needed her here, not in prison. She shouldn’t be paying for my mistakes.”

Without another word Sokka climbed onto Appa, shooting Aang a look when the Air Nomad shot him a worried glance. “Don’t worry Aang. I’m just gonna clear my head. Yip yip.”

The conversation ended with Sokka’s departure and silently, Aang showed Zuko to his room.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Sokka asked, catching Zuko’s attention as he handed him a cup of tea. Zuko set down the tea and followed Sokka to where he was standing, softly petting Appa when he opened his eyes to look at them.

“So, what’s up?” Zuko asked, looking back over at the group before focusing on Sokka.

“If someone was captured by the Fire Nation, where would they be taken?” the Water Tribe boy asked, trying to look nonchalant. At Zuko’s suspicious look, he spoke again. “When the invasion plan failed, some of our troops were taken. I just want to know where they might be.”

“We both know this is about your sister, Sokka,” Zuko replied. “I can’t tell you.”

“What? Why not?” Sokka asked, mildly irritated.

“Trust me,” Zuko said, turning to leave. “Knowing will just make you feel worse.”

“It’s not just about (Y/N)!” Sokka hissed, causing Zuko to stop in his tracks. “It’s my dad. He was captured too. I need to know what I put them through.”

“It’s not good Sokka,” the prince replied, not meeting his eyes.

“Please.”

Sighing deeply, Zuko gave in. “My guess is, they were taken to The Boiling Rock.”

“What’s that?”

“The highest security prison in the Fire Nation,” Zuko ignored Sokka’s horrified look. “It's on an island in the middle of a boiling lake. It's inescapable.”

“So,” Sokka said, trying to appear indifferent. “Where is this place?”

“Why do you need to know?” Zuko asked, eyes narrowing. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing!” Sokka tried reassuring the prince. “Boy, you’re so paranoid.”

Zuko rolled his eyes before replying. “It's in the middle of a volcano between here and the Fire Nation. You guys actually flew right past it on your way here.”

“Thanks Zuko,” Sokka said before letting out a very fake yawn as he stretched. “Just knowing makes me feel better.”

“Sure it does,” Zuko scoffed, watching the Water Tribe boy walk away. Noticing that everyone was getting ready to go to bed, he stealthily climbed up onto Appa’s saddle, gently shushing the sky bison when he once again opened his eyes.

At this moment, Zuko sort of regretted joining Sokka on his journey. After having successfully convinced him to take his war balloon instead of Appa, the two boys found themselves existing in awkward silence.

“Pretty clouds,” Sokka spoke first, slightly startling Zuko.

“Yeah...fluffy,” the Fire Nation prince replied before focusing on the fire again. Sokka began whistling casually, drawing Zuko’s attention. “What?”

“What?” Sokka asked, the awkwardness between the two boys palpable. “Oh, I didn't say anything. You know, a friend of mine actually designed these war balloons.”

“No kidding,” Zuko said with slight surprise.

“Yep. A balloon...but for war,” came the other boy’s reply.

“If there's one thing my dad's good at, it's war.”

“Yeah, it seems to run in the family.”

“Hey, hold on,” Zuko said, slightly offended. “Not everyone in my family is like that.”

“I know, I know,” Sokka replied, hands raised in defense. “You’ve changed.”

“I meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down.”

“I think your uncle would be proud of you,” Sokka said, looking at Zuko intently. “Leaving your home to come help us? That's hard.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“Really?” Sokka asked in disbelief. “You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about?”

“Well I did have a girlfriend,” Zuko replied, smiling slightly. “Mai.”

“That gloomy girl who sighs a lot?” Sokka asked, trying to hold back his smile.

“Yeah. Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor. I couldn't drag her into it,” Zuko explained before hesitating slightly. “Besides, I didn’t truly like her. Trust me, I know that sounds bad. When we were kids we liked each other, but we’re not kids anymore and we’ve both changed and things just weren’t working out.”

Sokka nodded in understanding before crossing his arms. “My first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Zuko paused for a few seconds, looking up at the moon and wondering if Sokka was being serious before turning to him. “That’s rough buddy.”

Silence ensued again, the scene almost relaxing if it weren’t for the fact that the two of them were heading for the most high-security prison in the Fire Nation.

“So,” Zuko broke the silence, looking at Sokka uncertainly. “What happens if we get there and (Y/N) isn’t there?

The question caught Sokka off guard, causing him to scowl. “She will be.”

“But,” Zuko pressed, trying to make the boy understand. “What if she isn’t?

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Sokka replied, crossing his arms and looking away as he tried not to think about Zuko’s words.

“Why don’t you just wait until after Aang defeats my father to set everyone free?” Zuko asked softly. “You’d have a much better chance then.”

“You just don’t get it!” Sokka yelled, looking back at Zuko. “See you and your sister might not get along very well but (Y/N) is the most important person in my life. She was the one who took care of me and Katara after our mom died. She was the one who basically led our tribe after the men went off to fight. She always knew what to say and what to do. We need her Zuko. I need her, Katara needs her, Aang definitely needs her, heck even Toph needs her!”

Zuko stayed silent as he focused on the fire, giving Sokka a few minutes to calm down.

“You’re right Sokka,” he finally said. “I don’t get along with Azula. We’ll find her.”

Sokka didn’t reply, instead choosing to look up at the moon, hoping that he had made the right choice.

Soon enough, they had reached The Boiling Rock. Zuko followed after Sokka, a bit disgruntled at the fact that his war balloon had been destroyed. They had somehow managed to get guard uniforms and sneak into the prison, a feat Zuko found impressive considering that Sokka didn’t have a fully thought-out plan.

“I hope these disguises work,” Zuko hissed, shoving Sokka softly with his shoulder.

“We just need to lay low and find (Y/N) and my dad as soon as possible,” Sokka quietly replied, rubbing his shoulder. “Ow!”

“Guards!” another guard ran past Sokka and Zuko, causing them to flinch. “There’s a scuffle in the yard. Come on!”

The two boys exchanged looks before running after the guard, eventually coming to an open space where a guard was harassing a prisoner. The rest of the guards were trying to keep the other prisoners away from the confrontation. Sokka subtly tilted his head, motioning for Zuko to join the other guards. They split up slightly, trying to keep the crowd in control.

“I didn’t do anything,” the prisoner in the middle of the platform stated, walking away from the guard. “I’m going back to my cell.”

“Stop right there Chit Sang,” the guard said, sending a fire whip towards him. “I’ve had it with your unruly behavior.”

One of the prisoners Zuko was trying to hold back began to slip past him and he reached out to grab them. His eyes widened when he made eye contact with the girl, who then promptly proceeded to shove him off of her and onto the ground. Zuko stared at the girl, his heart speeding up slightly and his stomach lurching as she shot him a glare and marched right up to the guard who had created the fire whip.

“Leave him alone!” she growled, stepping in front of Chit Sang. The guard simply laughed before stepping forwards.

“What are you gonna do Water Tribe scum?”

Zuko flinched as Sokka swatted him, tilting his head towards the girl. “That’s her! That’s (Y/N)!”

Sokka grasped Zuko’s arm tightly, knowing that he couldn’t jump to his sister’s defense. The two of them watched in anticipation as the guard shot out a blast of fire, aiming it at you. Zuko’s eyes widened at the sight. You weren’t a bender, you were going to get burned.

His jaw dropped as you gracefully slid underneath the blast before coming up and swatting the guard’s hand away. When the guard tried to aim at you again, you swept your leg in a graceful arc, knocking him down. You were amazing.

“Cuff her!” the guard barked, embarrassment clear on his face as all the other prisoners cheered. Two of the other guards grabbed you roughly, cuffing your hands behind your back and shoving you roughly in front of the guard you had knocked down.

“You think you’re tough, don’t you?” the guard asked. You didn’t look at him.

“Look at me when I speak to you!” the guard screamed. The yard went silent as everyone waited to see what you would do. Slowly, you lifted your head and met the guard’s eyes. His face held a smug expression, which was soon wiped off when you leaned forward and spit in his face.

The yard went wild again, the guards struggling to keep the prisoners under control. The bully guard lunged forwards, gripping your face tightly in his hand. He stared you down for a few seconds before tossing you to the ground. Scowling, he turned to Sokka and Zuko, who seemed to be the only guards not busy at the moment. “You two! Take her to her cell.”

Sokka picked you up and Zuko led them inside, stealing glances at you as you walked. At one point Sokka caught his gaze, giving him a confused look before his eyes widened in realization. He looked between you and Zuko before glaring at the prince and shaking his head furiously. Zuko avoided his gaze after that. They found your cell quickly enough and Sokka softly pushed you in before stepping inside and pulling Zuko with him.

He took off your cuffs easily enough and you stepped away from him, rubbing your wrists gently.

“What do you want?” you snarled, eyes shifting from one guard to another.

“(Y/N)!” one of them cried out, moving towards you. You sidestepped quickly, grabbing his arm and shoving him up against the wall. He groaned in pain as you pulled his arm back.

“What do you want?” you hissed, not taking your eyes off of the other guard.

“(Y/N/N),” the one you were holding squeaked. “It’s me!”

Your eyes widened at the voice and you stepped back, still keeping your hand on the guard’s arm. “Sokka?”

Sokka used his free hand to take off his helmet, a large grin on his face as he turned to look at you. “Yes! It’s m-”

His words were cut off when you yanked on his arm, pulling him close to you as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. Sokka melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he held tears back.

“Spirits,” you whispered, pulling back and looking at your baby brother. “Sokka what are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“Uh, we took my war balloon,” the other guard replied. You froze slightly at the familiar voice, turning to find Prince Zuko standing there, waving awkwardly.

“You,” you snarled, stomping up to the prince and pushing him up against the wall. You held your forearm against his throat, staring him down. Zuko didn’t do anything in return, a dazed smile on his face as he stared back at you.

“(Y/N) what are you doing?” Sokka yelped, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked away from Zuko, glancing at your brother in disbelief.

“What do you mean? Have you forgotten that he’s tracked us all over the world? Or that he’s tried to kill us? Multiple times!” you glanced at Zuko again, noticing that he was still smiling. “Why are you smiling at me? Sokka, why is he smiling at me?”

Sokka snorted softly, the scene in front of him reminding him of the first time Aang had met him and Katara. Shooting a tired look at Zuko, he gently pulled you away from the scarred prince. “I don’t know why he’s smiling at you but I do know that he’s part of the team now, so lay off okay?”

You looked at him in disbelief before whirling around and facing Sokka. “Alright but that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“We’re here to break you out?” Sokka said, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned his gaze to the floor.

“Seriously?” you hissed, stepping closer to him and causing him to stumble back. “This couldn’t have waited until after Aang defeated Ozai?”

“I told you so,” Zuko mumbled, shooting a pointed look at Sokka.

“Stay out of this,” you whisper-yelled, pushing him back up against the wall with one hand. “You have to leave. Both of you.“

“Well you see,” Sokka said, chuckling slightly as he met your gaze. “We can’t exactly do that.”

“Yes you can,” you replied, grabbing Sokka and proceeding to push the two boys towards the door. “Just get back on your little war balloon and leave.”

Zuko and Sokka exchanged nervous glances at the mention of the war balloon, causing you to narrow your eyes at them.

“Don’t say it.”

“It popped!” Sokka squealed, bouncing away from you as he noticed your expression. “But we’ll get out of here, and you’re coming with us.”

You couldn’t help but facepalm at your brother’s words.

The guards had only released you from your cell when it was your turn to do the cleaning. You hadn’t heard from Sokka since he had left you, and you were worried that he had gotten caught. You were so distracted by your thoughts that you didn’t notice the other prisoner who was mopping, resulting in you bumping into them and falling down.

“I’m sorry,” the other prisoner said, extending a hand to help you up. You glanced up, making eye contact with Zuko. Your eyes widened almost comically and you grabbed his hand, simultaneously pulling yourself up and pulling him closer to you.

“Where is my brother?” you asked as you leaned in close, panic in your voice as you whispered in his ear. Zuko tried to ignore the blush on his cheeks as your close proximity, focusing on your question.

“He’s fine,” he whispered back. “It was just me who got caught.”

You let his hand go, stepping back and nodding subtly before going back to mopping. Zuko stayed close to you, pretending to be focused on his mopping as he stole glances at you. Feeling his gaze, you looked up and arched an eyebrow as you made eye contact. The prince flushed when he realized he had been caught, looking back down before speaking.

“I-I never introduced myself,” he spoke softly. “I’m Zuko.”

“I know,” you replied flatly, walking further away from him. Zuko stood awkwardly for a moment before inching closer to you again.

“So you’re (Y/N),” he spoke again. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You snorted at his words, your eyes not leaving the ground. “Yeah I’m sure it is.”

“You’re a really good fighter,” Zuko continued, still trying to make conversation. “Even back when I was still hunting the Avatar you were the one that I was most worried about holding off.”

“Good to know,” you said drily, finally looking up at Zuko. “Look, Sokka may trust you but I don’t, okay? First of all, you haven’t really done anything but cause trouble for us. Second of all, you actually brought my brother here. I appreciate the sentiment but I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of my baby brother breaking into a Fire Nation prison.”

Zuko swallowed harshly, looking away. “I’m sorry. But he was really adamant about rescuing you and your dad and-”

“Wait,” you interrupted Zuko. “I’m the only Water Tribe member here. My dad is still being held somewhere in the Fire Nation capital.”

Zuko’s eyes widened briefly before he composed himself. “Oh. Alright then I guess that means we can leave as soon as Sokka comes back to meet us.”

The two of you continued to mop in silence before someone suddenly grabbed your upper arm, causing you to stiffen and causing Zuko to get into a defensive stance.

“Calm down, it’s just me.”

“You really have to stop doing that Sokka,” you hissed, yanking your arm away from him. “Zuko told me about why you’re here. I hope you know we can leave now. Dad isn’t here.”

Sokka’s face fell briefly before he forced a smile onto his face. “He may not be but guess who is? Suki! Why didn’t you tell me she was here (Y/N)?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you whispered. “Maybe because I was too busy freaking out about the fact that my kid brother and the Fire Nation prince broke into prison and don’t have a way to get out!”

“Shh!” Sokka hissed, putting his hand over your mouth. “Be quiet! And I’m not your ‘kid brother’, you’re only a year older than I am.”

Zuko stayed quiet as the two of you stared each other down before Sokka let out a yelp and took his hand off your mouth. “Did you just lick me?”

You didn’t reply, a smirk on your face as you crossed your arms. Zuko stifled a laugh at the scene in front of him, coughing quietly when you shot a look at him. The three of you stood still as a new voice interrupted.

“So, what’s the plan?” Suki stood near you, hiding in the shadows that the staircase provided. You exchanged a glance with Sokka, nodding in encouragement.

“So, listen, I think I have an escape plan,” Sokka began, a little nervous at being in charge of the escape plan. “I checked out the coolers again, and the point of them is to keep firebenders contained, right?”

“Yeah,” Zuko replied, unsure as to where this was going.

“So, they're completely insulated and sealed to keep the cold in. Well, to keep the cold in, it also has to keep the heat out, right?”

Zuko and Suki exchanged confused looks before looking over at you, only to see you smiling widely as you caught on.

“Just get to the point Sokka,” Suki said, glancing around nervously.

“It's a perfect boat for getting through the boiling water!” you said, eyes sparkling as you looked at Sokka proudly. Despite the situation, Zuko found himself smiling at the sight of your smile.

“Sokka,” you said, leaning in close to your brother while keeping your eyes on Zuko. “He’s doing it again.”

Sokka scowled and smacked Zuko’s head, causing the boy to straighten up and ignore Suki’s smirk. “The cooler as a boat? Are you sure?”

“I’m telling you, it’ll work,” Sokka said, giving them each a serious glance. “I walked around the perimeter. There's a blind spot between two guard towers. It's the perfect launching point. I already tested it out. We'll roll the cooler into the water and just float with the current. It'll take us straight across. As long as we don't make a sound, no one will notice. And bing-bang-boom, we're home free.”

“But how are you going to get the cooler out?” Suki asked, a worried frown on her face.

“Yeah. How are you gonna get the cooler out?”

The four of you turned as Chit Sang landed next to you, causing Sokka and Zuko to stutter as they tried to tell Chit Sang that they weren’t planning anything. You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to Chit Sang before speaking. “That’s easy, isn’t it? We just need to get a firebender into the cooler.”

Sokka and Zuko gaped at you, shocked that you had given them away.

“Calm down,” you scoffed, patting Chit Sang’s back. “Chit Sang and I go way back. He’s the one who made all the other firebenders leave me alone.”

Chit Sang nodded before turning back to the group. “Look I won’t tell the warden about your plan if you let me come along.”

Sokka stared at you intently, the two of you having a silent conversation before turning back to the group. “Fine! But we need to get someone into the cooler.”

Sokka handed Zuko a wrench. “Here. You’re going to unbolt the cooler, from the inside.”

Zuko looked back at Sokka, confused. “How am I going to get in there?”

You grinned widely, patting Zuko’s chest as you walked past him. “I got this. Follow my lead.”

You picked up your mop, motioning for Zuko to do the same. You began mopping, casually walking around as you kept Zuko in your periphery. The prince didn’t dare look at you so he was caught by surprise when you bumped into him from behind.

“Hey!” you snapped, turning around and glaring at him. “Watch where you’re going.”

Zuko froze for a split second before realizing this was your plan. “You’re the one who bumped into me. How about you watch where you’re going?”

A smile played at the corner of your lips as you stared each other down. Zuko noticed and felt his cheeks grow warm as he tried to hold back a smile of his own. The two of you stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Sokka coughed loudly.

Tearing your eyes away from the prince, you lunged at him. He easily dodged your swing before throwing a halfhearted punch back at you. You rolled your eyes as you kicked at him, losing your balance slightly as he swatted your leg away. You recovered quickly and threw another punch, a soft gasp leaving your mouth when he grasped your wrist and twirled you around, your back pressed against his chest as his arm held you tightly in place.

You struggled for a moment, sighing in defeat when you realized just how strong he was. You tilted your head back slightly, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered into it. “You have to firebend at me Zuko.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbled back, causing you to roll your eyes again.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” you replied. With a grunt, you elbowed him in the stomach. He let out a soft ‘oof’ and you took that chance to break out of his hold. You dropped down and spun, your leg outstretched as you tried to knock him down. He jumped over your leg easily before shooting out a blast of fire at you. He held his breath for a second, sighing in relief as he noticed you roll out of the way.

“No firebending!” a guard shouted, roughly grabbing Zuko from behind. You sent him a soft smile, receiving a smirk in return. As he was led away, Suki came up to you, a big smile on her face.

“So,” she said, her tone teasing. “What was that?”

“Yeah (Y/N),” Sokka said, crossing his arms as he came up to you. “What was that?”

You rolled your eyes before walking past the two of them. “It was a fight.”

“That’s not what it looked like from my point of view,” Suki called out after you, causing Sokka to send a glare at her. You simply chuckled at her words.

“(Y/N)?”

You stood up from the floor of your cell, looking at Sokka as he stood outside your cell. “Yeah?”

“It’s time.”

Sokka opened your cell and threw you a guard’s uniform before quickly closing the door and allowing you to change. When you were done, you knocked on the door three times, fixing your helmet as you waited for him to open the door.

Together, the two of you made your way towards the cooler, trying to avoid any guards on your way.

You opened the door to the cooler, a small frown making its way onto your face when you noticed that Zuko was shivering.

“I can take you back to your cell if you’ve learned your lesson,” Sokka said, looking way too smug. You rolled our eyes and focused on Zuko as he looked up at the two of you. His eyes met yours as he let out a breath of fire, his shivering stopping completely. He sent you a cocky smirk and you ignored the flopping you felt in your stomach at the sight of it. (A/N: y’all know what smirk i’m talkin bout)

“Yes I have,” he breathed, showing you both all the bolts and screws he had removed. “Completely.”

“I got Suki and Chit Sang out of their cells a few minutes ago,” Sokka whispered. “They'll be waiting for us at the shore.”

“Someone’s coming!” you whisper yelled, letting out a small yelp when you were pulled into the cooler. The three of you barely fit into the cooler but that didn’t make it any less cold. Even though you had grown up in the South Pole, you found yourself shivering at the temperature, your breath coming out in icy clouds.

Zuko glanced down at you, a frown appearing on his face as he noticed you shivering. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, bringing you in close as your expression changed into a bewildered one. You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly shut it when you realized just how warm he was. Sokka, unfortunately, didn’t stay quiet at the scene playing out in front of him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he screeched quietly, trying to pry the two of you apart. You quickly pushed him away.

“Sokka, shut up,” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around Zuko, your teeth still chattering. “He’s warm and I’m freezing.”

Sokka’s jaw dropped as you casually buried your face into Zuko’s chest, a content sigh escaping you as you got warmer by the second. Sokka stayed quiet as the voices outside got closer, instead miming a throat slitting motion as he stared Zuko down, causing the prince to swallow harshly.

“...Yeah. new arrivals coming in at dawn,” a male voice sounded, catching your attention.

“Anybody interesting?” a female voice asked in reply.

“Nah, just the usual. Some robbers, a couple traitors, some war prisoners,” you and Sokka exchanged a disbelieving look. “Though I did hear there might be a pirate.”

“No fooling!”

The voices faded as they walked away and you all took that chance to leave the cooler.

“War prisoners,” Zuko stated, his eyes not leaving Sokka’s. “Could be your father.”

“I know.”

“Well, what should we do?” Zuko asked. “Are we going ahead with the plan or are we waiting another night?”

“I don't know!” Sokka cried out, looking distraught. “Is it right for me to risk Suki and (Y/N)’s freedom, all of our freedom, on the slim chance that my dad is gonna show up?”

You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say.

“It’s your call Sokka,” Zuko finally said, trying to let the other boy know he was there for him.

Sokka thought about it for a moment, eyes focused on the ground. After a few seconds he looked up and scowled, crossing his arms as he glared at you. “You can let go of him now (Y/N).”

A bright blush erupted on your cheeks as you looked at Zuko, an embarrassed expression spreading across your face as you realized you were still holding onto each other. You stepped away from him quickly, clearing your throat as you did so.

The three of you had somehow managed to get the cooler down to the shore, not that it mattered considering the fact that Chit Sang had just taken your only means of escape. It wasn’t his fault really; it was you and Sokka who had been extremely hesitant to leave, not wanting to risk the chance of your dad being on the gondola the next morning.

Suki and Zuko had stayed behind with you, the four of you waiting in the blind spot for the gondola to arrive. It had almost been light out when alarms were set off, causing all of you to whip your heads to where the cooler had been floating off.

“The plan failed!” Sokka said sadly. “They got caught.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t go along with them huh?” you said, earning a dull look from your brother.

“The gondola's moving,” Sokka said suddenly, grasping your hand. “This is it. If my dad's not there, we've risked everything for nothing.”

“We had to,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand. The four of you now stood in the yard as you waited in anticipation, looking up as the gondola doors opened.

“Is that him?” Zuko asked as the first prisoner got out.

“My dad doesn’t have a nose ring!” both you and Sokka exclaimed, looking at the prince weirdly. More men came off the gondola, both you and Sokka shaking with anxiety as you kept an eye out for Hakoda.

“Where is he?” Sokka asked as the last man stepped off. “Is that it? That can’t be it.”

“I’m sorry,” Suki whispered, rubbing both of your backs.

“Hey you!” the guard called out, drawing your attention. “Get off the gondola.”

You waited with bated breath for the last person to emerge, your hand tightening around Sokka’s and causing him to wince. Your eyes widened as you watched the final prisoner get off, dark jaw-length hair surrounding a face that held tired blue eyes. You immediately turned to Sokka, tears threatening to spill.

“Sokka,” you whispered. “It’s dad.”

You had been pacing back and forth worriedly ever since Sokka had gone to join the other guards and quite frankly, both Suki and Zuko were tired of it.

“Please just stand still (Y/N),” Suki said, gently reaching out and grabbing you. “If something was wrong, we would’ve heard it already. Your brother isn’t exactly the quietest.”

You nodded in agreement and sat down, nervously biting your lip as you waited for Sokka to return. You barely flinched as Zuko sat next to you, Suki giving him a knowing glance as she wandered off slowly.

“Look,” he began, staring straight ahead. “I know you don’t like me, but I need to tell you this okay? As much as you can’t help but worry, you shouldn’t. Sokka’s smart and he knows what he’s doing...sort of.”

He chuckled at the halfhearted glare you directed at him. “I’m kidding. But really, Sokka’s smart and brave and he was so set on coming up here and breaking you out and I know he’s going to do it because he has heart. Plus he has you helping him out. So stop worrying so much okay? Also, never repeat any of what I just said to him”

You snorted at Zuko’s words before bumping his shoulder with your. “Thanks Zuko. You know what? Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought.”

The prince’s eyes widened in shock and he smiled down at you, blushing slightly when you smiled back. Your moment was ruined when Sokka came sprinting back, causing Suki to join you as well.

“(Y/N), c’mon! I found him,” Sokka exclaimed. Without another word, he grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the group. A wide smile was on his face and you felt yourself smile as well when you came to a stop in front of a cell.

Sokka slid the door open, looking around before ducking inside and draging you with him. “Thank goodness you’re okay!”

“Oh you’ll see just how ‘okay’ I am,” Hakoda replied, swinging at what he believed to be a guard. You stepped in front of Sokka before pushing Hakoda’s arm out of the way, ducking under it and pushing him softly before pulling Sokka out of the way.

Hakoda’s eyes widened at the familiar movements,searching the faces of the two guards standing before him. “Sokka? (Y/N)?”

"Dad!” you cried out in unison with Sokka, the two of you removing your masks as you smiled at Hakoda. His eyes filled with tears as he brought you into a hug and you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip as well.

“Where’s Katara? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine dad,” you said, tightening your hold on Hakoda. “She’s not here.”

“Where’s Bato?” Sokka asked, pulling away. “Where’s everyone else from the invasion?”

“The others are being held at a prison near the Fire Nation palace,” Hakoda replied. “They sent me here because I kept being difficult after they singled (Y/N) out as the leader and sent her here. But before I left, I met some young women who said they knew you. The...Oshinama Fighters? ”

“You mean the Kyoshi Warriors?” you asked.

“That’s right.”

“Their leader Suki is here,” Sokka said, a blush visible on his face. “She’s gonna escape with us too!”

“Good. We'll need all the help we can get.”

“And you know Prince Zuko?” Sokka asked, getting excited at the thought of finally leaving.

“The son of the Fire Lord?” Hakoda asked hesitantly. “I don't know him, but I know of him.”

"Well he’s here too!” Sokka exclaimed.

“That sounds like a major problem,” Hakoda replied, crossing his arms as his face hardened.

“Actually,” Sokka said, smiling nervously. “He’s on our side now.”

Hakoda shot him a disbelieving look, causing you to step in.

“I had the same reaction dad,” you said, putting a hand on Hakoda’s shoulder. “But he really has changed. He came here with Soka to break me out. He’s been a big help.”

Hakoda’s face softened at your words. You had always been a good judge of character, so if you approved of the prince, then he did too. “So, do you have a plan?”

“We had one,” Sokka said, looking down sadly. “But some of the other prisoners got involved and ruined it. I dunno if there's another way off this island.”

“Sokka, there's no prison in the world that can hold three Water Tribe geniuses.”

“Then I guess we’d better find two more to help me plan something,” you teased, making Hakoda laugh and earning a dull look from Sokka.

You sprinted towards the yard, having been distracted by another guard for a few minutes before all the prisoners had been let out. When you reached your dad, Suki, and Sokka, you were surprised to see Chit Sang speaking with them.

“Hey you! You're lucky I didn't rat you out,” Chit Sang said, staring Sokka down. “But my generosity comes with a price. I know you're planning another escape attempt, and I want in.”

You nodded at Sokka, telling him to go along with it. He sighed softly before facing Chit Sang. “Actually, we're trying to escape right now, but we need a riot. You wouldn't happen to know how to start one, would you?”

“You seriously couldn’t start a prison riot?” you asked in disbelief, looking at the three of them in disappointment. “C’mon Chit Sang, let’s show them how it’s done.”

The two of you stepped forwards, Chit Sang picking up another prisoner as you strutted up to one of them.

“Hey everybody!” you yelled, the yard going quiet as you spoke. Without hesitation, you punched the prisoner closest to you. “Riot!”

The yard exploded into chaos as people began fighting and throwing stuff around. You quickly fought off the prisoner that you had punched before returning to your friends.

“Impressive,” Hakoda said, looking around at all the chaos.

You turned and swung as you felt someone bump into you, the person letting out a loud grunt as your fist met their face. Your jaw dropped as your eyes met piercing gold ones, your hands coming up to your face in slight horror as you realized that you had just punched Zuko.

“Yep,” he said, clutching his face. “I probably deserved that after everything I’ve done to you.”

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out in between giggles, earning a smile from the prince.

“Zuko! Good, we’re all here,” Sokka said, drawing you all into a huddle. “Now all we need to do is grab the warden, and get to the gondolas!”

“And how do we do that?” Zuko asked.

Sokka hesitated for a few seconds. “I’m not sure.”

Zuko groaned, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I thought you thought this through!”

“I thought you told me it's okay not to think everything through”

“Maybe not everything, but this is kind of important!” Zuko cried out.

“Hey fella,” Chit Sang interrupted, tapping Zuko’s shoulder before pointing at you. “I think your girlfriend’s taking care of it.”

“You’re dating my daughter?” Hakoda asked, glaring at Zuko.

“W-What? No!” Zuko cried out, slightly fearful of the Water Tribe Chief.

“Damn right you’re not,“ Sokka said, crossing his arms before Chit Sang spun him around.

“Your girlfriend too buddy.”

All four males went silent as they observed both you and Suki. You swiftly made your way up the tower, effortlessly taking guards down as you inched towards the warden. Suki took a stance at the base of the tower, fighting off any other guards who attempted to rush to the warden’s rescue. She was a truly impressive sight, her training as a Kyoshi Warrior shining through as she took down every guard that came at her effortlessly. Sokka stood a few yards away, awestruck at the sight in front of him.

Meanwhile, you had successfully made your way up to the top of the tower. You made quick work of the remaining guards before finally facing the warden.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he snarled, getting into a defensive position.

“Watch me,” you quipped, lunging at him. You avoided his punch, grabbing his wrist and spinning him around before shoving him up against the railing. You grabbed his sash, tying his hands before knocking him down and making sure he was tied securely before smiling over at your dad. “You’re my prisoner now warden.”

Down in the yard, Hakoda, Zuko, and Chit Sang all stared at you in awe, Sokka still focused on Suki.

“That’s my girl,” Hakoda stated, a proud look on his face as he looked up at you.

“Do you think she’d want to be my girl?” Zuko muttered dazedly, unintentionally speaking louder than he meant to. When he realized what he had said, he looked up in embarrassment, being met with an amused glance from Chit Sang, a harsh scowl from Hakoda, and a sharp slap from Sokka.

“Shut up!” Sokka hissed before grabbing Zuko’s arm and rushing to join you and Suki.

You all ran to the gondola, making sure that the warden was still tied up as you dragged him with you.

“We’re almost there!” Suki cried out.

“Spoke too soon,” you groaned as a group of guards came across your path, immediately sending two blasts of fire at you. You yelped as Zuko pulled you out of the way before stepping in front of you and dissipating the blasts. He sent a series of blasts back at them before grabbing the warden from you.

“Back off! We've got the warden!“ he shouted, successfully stopping the guards. When they didn’t make any movements he grabbed your hand and tugged you along. “Let's go”

Suki was the first to make it to the gondola, holding the door open for everyone else. “Everyone in!”

You all clambered on and you glanced around, realizing that someone was missing.

“Zuko!” you yelled, looking back at the prince. He started the gondola and you felt yourself panic as the guards closed in on him. “What are you doing? Hurry up!”

“I’m making it so that they can’t stop us!” With a few kicks, Zuko managed to break the lever that controlled the gondola before sprinting towards you. You leaned out of the door slightly, watching him in anticipation.

“C’mon Zuko,” you whispered to yourself, biting your lip as the gondola left the platform, now hanging freely. Zuko sped up and jumped, his feet landing on the edge of the gondola. He wobbled for a bit before you grasped his arm, fully pulling him into the gondola and into your arms. Zuko looked at you in confusion before wrapping his arms around you as well.

“Are you sure they’re not dating?” Hakoda asked, his voice quiet as he addressed Sokka. Sokka sent Zuko a menacing glare, the scarred prince gulping and loosening his hold on you when he noticed.

“What were you thinking?” you cried out, finally pulling away from Zuko and slapping his head.

“Ow!” Zuko hissed, rubbing the spot you had hit. “I was thinking ‘let me get rid of this lever real quick so that they don’t catch us’.”

“You could’ve gotten captured!” you yelled at him, taking a step towards him.

“Way to think ahead,” Sokka commented, saving Zuko from another slap.

“We’re finally on our way.” Suki sighed, sharing a soft smile with Sokka.

“Wait,” Hakoda said, leaning out of the window. “Who’s that?”

You leaned out of the window on the other side of the gondola, resisting the urge to blush as you felt Zuko’s chest press up against your back as he tried to get a good look at the platform.

“That’s a problem,” Zuko groaned. “It’s my sister and her friend.”

“This is a rematch I’ve been waiting for,” Suki growled, cracking her knuckles.

“Get in line,” you scoffed, your eyes narrowing as you watched the princess approach. You climbed out of the gondola and onto the roof, being followed by Sokka, Suki, and Zuko.

Suki and Sokka turned to face Ty Lee as she landed onto the roof gracefully, quickly becoming preoccupied with the chi-blocker. You carefully observed Azula as she landed a few feet away from you, staring you down as she stalked closer.

“Well, well, well,” she spoke, her voice taunting. “If it isn’t the Water Tribe scum.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Zuko barked, stepping slightly in front of you.

“Aww, does Zuzu have a little crush?” Azula teased, pouting as she shifted her gaze to Zuko. “Snap out of it Zuko. We raided her village multiple times. She’ll never see you as anything other than a monster.”

“Still not over what your mother used to say about you huh?” you shot back, missing the hurt look in Azula’s eyes as she shot lightning at you. You swiftly dodged the blast and ran at her, sliding onto the ground when she let out another blast.

Zuko watched as you stood up, landing a solid hit on his sister before bouncing back and dodging the hit she sent your way. He tried to find an opening to attack Azula but eventually gave up for fear of hurting you. Instead he chose to jump into the fight and wipe out the blasts Azula kept sending at you, even if you were expertly dodging them.

Azula soon grew tired of the fight, and knowing that she couldn’t beat you in the moment decided to send a blast of fire at Zuko. She caught him off guard and although he managed to wipe out the blast, he ended up tumbling back and landing dangerously close to the gondola’s edge.

“Zuko!” you yelled, momentarily distracted from the fight. Azula took this chance to kick you down, punching you before kicking you once more when you tried to scramble to your feet. You were sent stumbling against the metal handle that attached the gondola to the cable, gasping in pain as you crashed against it. She grinned widely when your head hit the metal.

You blew your hair out of your face, wincing as you reached up to touch the sore spot on your head and sighing when you noticed the blood on your fingertips.

“You have nowhere to go,” Azula stated, stalking towards you. Blue fire danced at her fingertips, her eyes hungry with anticipation as you struggled to stand. “Such a shame, you could’ve been a great asset to me.”

“I would rather die than join you,” you shot back, finally managing to stand up.

“Fine,” Azula spat, the fire growing as she narrowed her eyes. “Have it your way.”

You closed your eyes and braced yourself, knowing that you were in no shape to block her attack. You felt the heat approaching before it disappeared. Opening your eyes, you gasped softly as you saw Zuko standing in front of you. He sent blasts of fire back at Azula before the gondola swung dangerously, sending them both stumbling.

“They’re about to cut the line!” Ty Lee shouted at Azula.

“Then it’s time to leave,” the princess smirked. “Goodbye Zuko.”

Azula blasted away as Ty Lee backflipped gracefully onto the other gondola. Zuko glared at Azula briefly before rushing to your side, reaching down and gently picking you up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his face twisting with concern as you stumbled.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Just peachy.”

You tried to walk on your own only to stumble once more and fall right into Zuko’s arms. You shook your head slightly, trying to walk off once more.

“(Y/N), stop,” Zuko said, scooping your legs up and fully carrying you.

“P-Put me down!” you yelled, drawing Sokka and Suki’s attention.

“Hey! Put her down,” Sokka cried, rushing over to your side. He was stopped when the gondola swayed again.

“Stop struggling,” Zuko hissed, tightening his grip on you. “You can’t walk without stumbling. You probably have a concussion.”

You pouted but stayed silent, knowing that the prince was right. Carefully, he made his way over to the edge of the gondola, noticing that Hakoda was leaning out of the window. Carefully, he handed you down to him, making sure that you were safely inside before swinging himself in as well. Sokka and Suki quickly followed.

“They’re cutting the line,” Zuko stated, exchanging glances with everyone else. “The gondola’s about to go!”

“I hope this thing floats,” Hakoda said, fussing over your head wound as you tried to push him away.

“Hey!” you suddenly cried as the gondola began to move. You glanced out the window. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Mai!” Zuko exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowing as he observed her fighting with the guards.

The gondola made it to the other side without any other mishaps. When you got there, Zuko carefully picked you up once again, making his way out of the gondola. Sokka kept his gaze on him, only looking away when he felt Suki grab his hand. She shook her head at him before looking at you and Zuko. “Calm down. There are worse people she could be with.”

Sokka rolled his eyes at her words before trailing after Zuko, a barely visible smile appearing on his face as he noticed how Zuko was fussing over you as well. Hakoda and Chit Sang tossed the warden back into the gondola before joining the group. They all walked for a while before Zuko paused, standing on the cliff that was overlooking the rest of the volcano.

“What’s wrong Zuko?” you asked quietly, your eyes not leaving his face as he scanned the landscape in front of him. At this point, everyone else had backtracked to where you were standing.

“My sister was on that island,” was his only response.

“Yeah, and she's probably right behind us, so let's not stop!” Sokka said, trying to convince Zuko to keep moving.

“What I mean is she must have come here somehow,” he replied, his eyes still looking around.

“There!” you exclaimed, pointing at a large airship. “That's our way out of here!“

The six of you all managed to make it to the airship quickly enough and Zuko quickly lit the fire and guided it away from The Boiling Rock. The atmosphere was lively as everyone tried to catch up with each other, the excitement from the day eventually leaving everyone as the sun began setting. One by one, everyone fell asleep until it was just you and Zuko awake.

You had been looking around the ship, smirking in victory when you found a first aid kit. Silently you wandered out to where Zuko was, trying not to startle him.

“Long night?” you asked, leaning on the wall next to him.

“Someone has to keep the fire going,” he retorted, a faint smile present on his handsome face.

“Can you help me?” you asked quietly, meeting his eyes as he turned to face you. He nodded and you handed him the first aid kit before sitting down in front of him. You flinched slightly as his hand grabbed your jaw, closing your eyes as you reveled in his touch, remaining oblivious to the way his heart was racing at the close proximity. His touch was feather light in comparison to the guard who had grasped your jaw in a similar way back at the Boiling Rock. You snorted softly as you recalled the incident that had taken place a mere day ago; it seemed like it had happened ages ago.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered, tilting your head to get better access to the cut on your head.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” you murmured back, eyes still closed.

“Not about that,” Zuko replied, cleaning the wound as best as he could with the supplies you had given him. You hissed softly as he tried to place the bandage on, breathing deeply to try and ignore the pain. “I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry for hunting the Avatar down and chasing you all around the world. I’m sorry about your mother. I’m sorry for the raids that tore your village apart. I’m sorry that I kept causing you harm even when I had the chance to do good.”

You opened your eyes at his words, reaching up and gently grabbing his hand to bring his attention to you. He could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. You stared at him in silence, his golden eyes never leaving yours even as he fidgeted uncomfortably under your gaze. Your face softened as you realized just how full of guilt Zuko really was, your heart aching as you realized that you couldn’t spend any more time hating him. Not when he had already done so much to try and make up for his mistakes.

“No Zuko,” you finally spoke, guiding him to take a seat in front of you. “I’m sorry for being so harsh towards you. You did more than enough to prove that you aren’t the same bratty prince you were when we first met but I wasn’t willing to look past the fact that you were once our enemy. You left the Fire Nation to help Aang and I can’t imagine how hard that was-”

“Trust me,” Zuko interjected, laughing humorlessly. “It wasn’t that hard. My father and sister are horrible people.”

“Still,” you said, leaning in a bit. “They’re your family. Betraying your family isn’t easy, even if you don’t get along with them.”

Silence ensued as Zuko stood up and carefully finished bandaging your cut. He took his seat in front of you once more, watching the fire as you watched him.

“What?” Zuko asked, his cheeks heating up he realized that you were still staring at him.

“Thank you Zuko,” you stated, finally looking away from the golden-eyed boy.

“Don’t thank me,” Zuko replied. “It was Sokka’s idea to break you out.”

“I mean for saving me from Azula,” you whispered, looking back up at him. “She really had me backed into a corner.”

“I wasn’t going to let her hurt you,” Zuko stated, staring into your eyes. “Sokka would’ve killed me if we came all this way just to lose you to her.”

You giggled at his words, causing him to smirk in satisfaction as he realized that he had made you laugh. “He would’ve, wouldn’t he?”

There was another silence before you spoke up again. “In all seriousness, thank you. I never thought that I’d be calling Prince Zuko my hero.”

Zuko gulped as he realized just how close the two of you were. Neither of you made a move to back away and you flushed when you caught yourself glancing at the prince’s lips.

You blushed harder when you realized he had caught you in the act.

“Zuko,” you whispered, squeaking softly when said boy leaned forwards and connected his lips with yours. The kiss was soft and hesitant, with both of you holding your breath as you realized you were kissing each other.

Pulling away, Zuko’s eyes widened. “Oh spirits. I-I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just did th-”

You cut Zuko’s apology off with another kiss, this one a little less awkward. His hand came up and grabbed your waist, pulling you a little closer as his other hand cupped your cheek. Your hand came up to grab his forearm, your brain trying to comprehend the fact that you were kissing Zuko and wondering how in the world he was such a good kisser.

“I thought you said you weren’t dating my daughter.”

The two of you flew apart as you heard Hakoda’s voice.

“D-Dad!” you exclaimed. “We weren’t- I wasn’t-”

Hakoda held up a hand to stop your stuttering. “It doesn’t matter. He risked his life to help your brother break you out of prison which means he’s good in my books. Just please don’t kiss in front of me. And maybe don’t let Sokka find out about this just yet. Good night.”

You turned to Zuko in embarrassment as Hakoda walked away, making eye contact with him before the two of you dissolved into laughter.

“Well that’s one way to get the parent’s approval,” you muttered, smiling at Zuko as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him.

The two of you spent the rest of the night awake, talking about everything and nothing, stargazing as Zuko kept the flame alive.

“You know, I used to know the moon spirit when she was alive,” you said smugly, glancing up at Zuko as he smiled widely at you.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah! In fact, she was Sokka’s first girlfriend.”

Zuko smiled and pressed another kiss to your lips, smiling softly when he felt your hand come up to his chest.

And in that moment, Zuko knew he had made the right decision by deciding to join the Avatar. After all, if he hadn’t then why would the universe have chosen to reward him with something as amazing as you.

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby, @bubblebars, @iguessthefloorislava

7K notes · View notes

saipng · 3 years ago

Text

Warming up

Fandom: Resident Evil (8 in particular)

Pairing: Ethan Winters/Karl Heisenberg

Rating: E

Word Count: 13,803

hey guess what i can post the full fic from my laptop lol so this is basically a reupload!

AO3 link in replies

Ethan accepts Heisenberg's offer and learns how to negotiate.

(P.S: Technically PWP but there is a tiny bit of P in the beginning, just to set things up. Lighting some candles, putting on some music, pouring some wine. You know how it is)

(P.P.S: There aren't any actual candles, wine, or music in this fic. I'm sorry.)

“Take a seat.”

The rusted, sickly looking chair clattered against the floor helplessly, its sad little legs looking as though they would give out underneath their own weight any second now – much less Ethan’s.

He did not take a seat.

Heisenberg turned his back, walked across the room to a small table with a blistering desk lamp at the other end. You’re not a threat to me, his body language all but screamed.

You’re nothing.

“Listen, Ethan, you’re being played-“

Ethan, in turn, felt his own body seize up.

“What are you talking about!? You think this is a game!?”

There was a second - half a second - where the other man stopped fiddling with his cigar, turned his head towards him giving him a look so pointed it bore right through the tiny jet black shades. And in the very next moment Heisenberg was throwing a steel blade into the poster laden wall, metal glinting as it flew through the air. Ethan could barely follow the movement with his eyes before he was suddenly being shoved onto the flimsy chair, its legs stubbornly refusing to collapse against all odds.

Heisenberg looked down at him, sneering.

Ethan couldn’t help the shaky breath.

Most dangerous of them all, Duke’s words echoed in his head, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. His knees felt weak.

And he could swear the man in front of him looked delighted to tower over him like this.

But then he took a step backwards, then another, and then, when he was certain enough Ethan wouldn’t dare make another move, he turned back towards the board, pointing at each one of his siblings in turn.

“Lady super-sized bitch...”- A glint, and the knife was slashing through the air, pulling right out of Dimitriscu’s face, leaving an ugly mark in between her eyes with a particular sort of malice.

“Ugly ass psycho doll...”- The knife stabbed into Donna Beneviento’s torso, the crack of wall underneath the poster almost painful.

“And that moronic freak.”

The blade easily lodged itself somewhere in Moreau’s face, or maybe his neck, maybe somewhere around the eyes or the shoulder – both Heisenberg and the knife barely spared the last sibling a second’s thought and the man turned back to Ethan, his hands outstretched.

“Don’t you get it? It’s a test, to see if you’re strong enough to be a part of Miranda’s family!”

“I don’t WANT to be a part of Miranda’s family-“- Ethan was growling before he could really think, and Heisenberg kept looking at him like he was saying all the wrong things.

“Neither did I. But here we are!”- He circled back, something in his voice cracking, -“And I’m next in line, right? Kill me, move up the chain! Well, fuck that!”

And with a quick sweep of his hand, the metal wall was splitting in two.

Miranda’s portrait tore.

Ethan felt nauseous.

“I don’t give a damn about your personal issues!”- He was sputtering incredulously, not knowing why he was expecting all of this to start making sense when it wasn’t, -“I just want to fix my daughter!”

And to his great surprise, Heisenberg laughed.

“So do I!”- He grinned, ear to ear, fists shaking, -“Do you have any idea how powerful that kid is? Even Miranda’s scared of her-“

It was then that whatever horror was lurking beneath them began revving its engines up again, and images of chainsaws and lawn mowers began to flash across Ethan’s mind. He grit his teeth while Heisenberg roared at whoever it was to quiet down, daring to tear his eyes away for a glance towards the hole.

Tufts of white smoke clouded the room below. He’s been around this accursed village long enough to know that there was nothing good waiting for him down there. He’s known Heisenberg for long enough to figure that whatever it was was sharp. And painful.

His captor looked at him for a moment. Took another to inhale deeply and look away.

Ethan could empathize. He could hardly catch his own breath.

Heisenberg removed his glasses.

“You and me, Ethan,”- He pleaded, and really, there was no better word to describe his voice just then - this monster pleaded with him and Ethan felt something in his neck crack, -“Together, we go and save Rose — and then we can use her to grind Miranda into paste!”

“My daughter is not a weapon,”- Ethan growled back at him, his chest hollow, -“Fuck you!”

Heisenberg took a step back. Looked at him for that one agonizing moment once more. Ethan expected more pleading. More reasoning that he would have to refute. A conversation.

What he didn’t expect was the chair flying right underneath him, the other man boring into his arm with an iron grip as Ethan dangled on flimsy footing right above the room that filled his lungs with nightmares.

His own hand clung frantically to Heisenberg’s, body faintly remembering what survivor’s instinct was.

“Last chance,”- The other man said, his face a spasm between amusement and frustration. I’m holding the trump card now, that expression told him.

I won, so why do you refuse to see it?

“You don’t want to find out what’s in that hole,”- He added as though for emphasis, and Ethan didn’t tear his eyes away.

Couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He thought of Rose bubbling around in pieces. Thought of her crying.

Thought of Miranda’s hands.

A painful current passed through his spine, and just like that, his mind was electrified. His stomach was turning.

The soles of his shoes were beginning to slip.

“I am not using my daughter,”- Ethan told him through clenched teeth, and felt the grip on his arm falter. He exhaled shakily through his nose, his own fingers curling tighter.

Heisenberg raised his chin up, and Ethan had to force the next words out through his red-hot sternum.

“But-“

He exhaled, that single syllable just as painful as a scythe through his leg. A knife through his ribs.

“-if Miranda really is as strong as you say she is-”

Coiling his fingers, Heisenberg gave him a barely noticeable pull, his eyes squinting. Ethan swallowed down the bitter bile rising in his throat.

“Well. We’re not exactly left with a lot of options.”

Another pull, and he was standing on solid ground now – still precariously close to the gaping hole, a single firm push away, but at least no longer dangling over it like some helpless worm.

The other man levelled him with a gaze, mouth thin. He didn’t let go of his arm.

“What, exactly, are you proposing?”

Ethan didn’t let go either.

“A truce.”

Heisenberg’s eyebrows shot up.

“You want to partner up?”

“Call it whatever you want, but it sounds like you’re going to need all the manpower you can get,”- Ethan took a step forward, unnecessary but needed. His grip tightened. He could negotiate this, -“And I sure as hell am not going to turn out the only helping hand that’s been offered – even if it is yours.”

He could save Rose.

That was all that mattered.

Heisenberg made a sudden noise, something between a gasp and a chuckle. Something angry. Something incredulous.

“So now it’s you doing me a favor!?”

“Take it or leave it,”- He offered cautiously, words somehow both softer and harsher than he intended, -“We rescue Rose. Make sure she’s safe. Kill Miranda. This was always the plan, and I will do it with or without you.”

And just as he was certain no more words were needed, he found himself talking anyway.

“Help out or don’t get in my way.”

He watched the other man watch him, his eyes all too sharp without the shades, all too quick and bright on that gray and beige face, and Ethan’s pulse began to quicken once more. His breath hitched.

He hated the way his breath hitched.

His arm was beginning to ache.

Just as suddenly and impulsively as everything else he’s seen this man do, Heisenberg was throwing his head back, his laughter echoing up and down and out of the hole, mixing in with the revving noises that once again filled up the electric air.

“There’s that unfounded confidence that kept you breathing through the night!”- He roared over the sound of metal splitting metal, arms wide as he finally let go of Ethan, taking a large step back and putting his sunglasses back on, -“Now I see what’s been keeping them all hooked!”

Ethan turned his head in the direction of “them”, took one more look at the faces of the people – the monsters – he’s slaughtered in the course of the day.

He tried to suppress whatever feeling was beginning to claw its way up his throat.

By the time he turned back towards Heisenberg he could only see the man’s back briskly striding down a hall he could swear wasn’t there just a moment ago, beckoning him to follow.

“Let’s get moving then, Ethan!”- He yelled, voice faint over the constant noise that Ethan was now beginning to associate with the sound of a plane propeller and certain death, -“Can’t even hear myself think in this goddamn shithole!”

He spat that last part as though it was an insult to whomever – or whatever – it was that so insistently kept on interrupting their conversation, and Ethan realized that he could move again. Inhaling sharply before taking a couple of all too precarious steps away from the hole, he finally resolved to trudge along behind, only briefly wondering if this decision was eventually going to get him killed.

He didn’t want to think whether it would get Rose-

He couldn’t think about it.

“I’m assuming you have some sort of a plan,”- He said instead, if only not to think.

“Some sort of a- Are you kidding me?”- Heisenberg snarled, not bothering to turn around as they made their way down a shoddy corridor that looked as though touching any surface would give you instant tetanus, -“What, you think I was going to walk up to Miranda, shove a gun in her face, and hope for the best?”

He didn’t look back as he said this either – Ethan knew exactly what his face looked like just then anyway.

“Has been working out for me so far,”- He muttered under his breath, kicking at a loose screw on the floor.

“Yes, well, it’s not going to work against her.”

They finally reached a single door decorated with a large golden horse crest. Heisenberg fumbled inside his coat pockets before pulling out a large keychain with a single key.

It glinted in the dim light.

“A whole army isn’t going to work against her.”

He threw the door open, and Ethan suddenly saw the inside of a surprisingly accommodating room that did not belong in this run down factory. It bore a single metal framed bed tucked away in a far corner, a tiny kitchenette right across from that, and a small round metallic table and couple of equally metallic rusted through chairs strewn about that looked only slightly sturdier than the one he found himself sitting in and falling out of mere moments ago. Random scraps and chunks littered the floor, paper and metal and god knew what else. The space looked barely used, counters barren and bed sheets made, yet Ethan still felt out of sorts stepping into what he could only presume were Heisenberg’s personal quarters.

“And we have that? An army?”- He asked uncertainly after looking around, wondering whether they came here to retrieve said army and whether it could be found biding its time in the rickety wardrobe to his right.

“Oh, we have so much more than that,”- Heisenberg grinned at him, reaching back into his coat to tuck away the key ring and bring out a new cigar instead, placing it against his lips as he struggled with a box of matches, -“There are still preparations to be made, Ethan, but once it’s done - well, let’s just say Miranda won’t see any of it coming.”

He took a long drag, exhaling a puff of ashy smoke into the ceiling, and then, as though an afterthought, extended the cigar towards Ethan with a nod.

“I don’t smoke,”- Ethan said instead, watching the other man shrug and take another long drag. He tried to disregard the sudden shiver that came over him as a winter chill, -“W-Well, what the hell are we waiting for, then!? Let’s get out of here and-“

“Hold your horses, pops. We’re not ready yet.”

“Ready? What is there to be ready for, we just-“

“Listen, Ethan,”- Heisenberg was up in his face in a flash once again, and Ethan suddenly could see himself being forced onto another chair, shoved down and made to sit in place. His legs felt pathetic and his chest clenched in anticipation – but the man didn’t make another move, simply stood there. Entirely too close.

“It’s like you don’t even listen.”

Ethan tried to pretend he didn’t feel awkwardly disappointed. Tightened the grip around his gun instead.

“I just said there was a plan. And plans require time.”

He could deal with being pushed around, with constant attacks and violence. He had no idea how to handle a sudden moment of peace, even if he did propose it himself.

Heisenberg smelled like cigar smoke.

“Time!? Time!?”- Ethan felt his hands shake, -“We don’t have any goddamn time to-“

“Do you want to throw all this out the goddamn window!? Want Miranda to do as she pleases with Rose!?”

He was now dangerously close to walking out the door.

“Okay, look. Why don’t you take some time to regroup?”- The other man finally moved away, letting him breathe in a breath he didn’t know he desperately needed, -“Take a seat, relax, put your feet up, for fuck’s sake! Make yourself at home! You deserve a little rest after everything you’ve been through, don’t you, Ethan?”

It’s not a trap, Heisenberg told him when he was on his way to this factory, and it sounded about as reassuring then as this did now. Ethan was certain that he won’t be able to relax for the rest of his actual life after this. Not after everything he’s been through. Especially not after everything.

“And where will you be going?”

“To make those final preparations,”- He was now moving backwards across the room, hands splayed out, that shit-eating smile never leaving his face, -“Check up on few things, add a few final tweaks. You know how it is.”

And right before he stepped out the back door and right after Ethan missed his chance to protest, he added, -“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Ethan. I’ll be back before you know it.”

And with that, Heisenberg disappeared into the noise filled air of his factory.

It has been several hours until he returned.

Actually, it could as well have been several minutes, but that thought was way less reassuring and way more pitiful.

After rummaging through every drawer possible, picking up piles of metal scrap, random packs of ammo and several herbs, pocketing one of Heisenberg’s slightly damp cigars and flipping through several pages of his diary denoting the creation of “Soldats”, Ethan resolved to plopping one of the shitty metal chairs against the closest wall and plopping himself right down on it. He was definitely feeling way too exhausted to actually sit and soak it all in, way too agitated to be here in the first place. His every nerve and sense was buzzing with the need to move, and his numerous injuries burned, burned, burned. For the first time since losing his fingers was he beginning to feel phantom pains, the loss acutely piercing through his left arm and shoulder when he tried to flex his hand, wincing at the movement that never reached his ring and pinky phalanges. His knee was bouncing and his mind kept replaying scenarios of all and everything that could go wrong going wrong, and amidst all that his gaze was fixed on a single spot of rust colored stain on the old worn out carpet all the way until Heisenberg unceremoniously burst through the backdoor, scattering a few metallic parts across the floor.

Ethan’s first impulse was to jump right out of the chair, and when his body didn’t listen, he resorted to simply snapping his head up in equal parts greeting, inquiry, annoyance and excitement.

Most dangerous of them all, Duke told him a forever ago, and those words kept replaying over and over and over in his restless brain like a broken record until he’d almost convinced himself he was actually glad to have Heisenberg on his side.

“Good. You’re still here!”- Said man stopped in his step, voice colored with surprise, -“Feeling better?”

Maybe he expected Ethan to bail by now. Maybe he simply forgot he was there.

“How’re the Soldats coming along?”- Ethan asked instead, fingers interlacing with one another, ring and pinky awkwardly hanging out without their proper place, legs simply refusing to let him stand.

Heisenberg quirked his head to one side, a small incredulous smile gracing his lips, -“How do you- Hm. I see someone’s been doing their homework.”

“You leave stuff lying around.”

He nodded for a long moment, slowly placing his hands on his hips as he kept on staring at Ethan.

And kept on staring.

And kept on staring long enough for that weird alien ache to return to Ethan’s bones, make him want to squirm in his seat if his body had any resolve whatsoever left in it.

And then he simply shook his head, looked at his feet as though he couldn’t believe any of this was happening, and turned back to walking across the room towards the tiny bedside table.

“Well, to answer your question, they’re coming along just fine. Revving and ravenous,”- He stated simply, rummaging around for something Ethan couldn’t see.

“Great,”- He swallowed down in turn, finally willing his heavy, ginormous, colossal feeling body to lean forward in the chair, getting ready to stand up powering through on fumes and the rushing adrenalin alone, -“Let’s do this.”

“Woah, slow down there, cowboy,”- Heisenberg suddenly turned to him, a precariously small bottle dangling in his hand as he spread his arms out, -“We still got several hours until-“

“Several hours!?”- Ethan’s head shot up, something way too close to the surface of his skin slowly beginning to boil.

Not a trap.

“You said you were going to make checks and tweaks!”

“Yes, and now that those are mostly done we need to wait until dawn for the ceremony to start so-“

“Have you gone completely crazy!?”- He was shouting now, realizing that he had finally managed to stand up without noticing it. That his knees were shaking, -“We don’t have that kind of time, Rose will-“

“With all due respect, Ethan, your daughter isn’t exactly going anywhere. Not in the state she’s in.”

Heisenberg grinned. Ethan heard his breath catch.

“No, you know what? Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m going alone.”

He didn’t have the time to figure out how he was going to take the next step – didn’t have to. Because in the very next second, metal scraps were levitating off of the floor and darting out to throw him backwards, knees buckling against the metal chair so he was sitting back down, his wrists now pinned painfully against the wall.

He immediately tried to dash forward, and the metal bore right down into his very bone.

“Sit. Down.”

Ethan let out a breath.

Now this? This, he understood.

He only wished he could reach his gun.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going!? Miranda is going to kill you!”

Heisenberg moved slowly towards him, his outstretched hand lowering back down, a snarl over his face which made Ethan think of full moons and howling and silver bullets to the face.

He wouldn’t be able to stop silver bullets, would he?

“I’m starting to think I might as well take my chances,”- Ethan growled back, voice hoarse and aching.

“And leave me to clean up your mess!? No, thank you, I’d rather just kill you myself.”

“Big talk for someone who’s too afraid to go up against mommy-”

Wrong thing to say, the metal cuffs on his wrists told him, their grasp suddenly growing that much tighter, extracting another hopeless grunt. Ethan tried not to think of how much force it would require to pop his hands clean off. Crush his bone into dust. Sever at his skin. He somehow had no doubt Heisenberg could do it if he wanted to.

Most dangerous of them all.

No amount of chem fluid was going to reattach his hands after that.

“You have no goddamn clue what she’s capable of, you pathetic idiot. She won’t leave a wet stain once she’s through with you – and then she’ll come for me. I am not going to let that happen, Ethan.”

“Yes, well,”- He tried again, feeling as though the metal was crushing his larynx and not his arms, -“I’ve taken out three of your kind already. What’s a couple more to boot?”

Heisenberg lurched forward then, a mean expression painted over his features as he leaned in, further, further, that snarl so visceral it was all canines and blood and meat and bone, and Ethan could pull back only so far until his head connected with the wall and Heisenberg’s face was in his neck.

He groaned involuntarily. Shut his eyes and prepared for the sting-

- And then Heisenberg took a deep, deep breath in through his nose.

“Did you just- Did you just smell me!?”- Ethan stammered out breathlessly, eyes flying open as something in his abdomen sunk and he bucked against the metal restraints once more. And here he thought he could predict where this was going.

This damn village was going to drive him completely mad.

“Death… and decay,”- The other man muttered, coarse beard hairs scratching at Ethan’s Adam’s apple, his neck craning further and further till the strain was tugging at his very veins, -“You reek of it, Ethan. You really think Miranda is going to let you walk when you smell like that?”

Ethan didn’t say a word – couldn’t even form a word in his mind, had no idea what he could possibly say, Heisenberg’s own smell of metal and gasoline and cigar smoke penetrating his every sense. His breath was everything but stable, his pulse breaking through his skin.

Was this room always this suffocating?

“Dammit, Ethan, I’m on your side here!”- Heisenberg barked, the noise resonating in Ethan’s very chest cavity, his every hair standing on end by the time he pulled away and took a step back, -“Don’t you get it!?”

He didn’t get it. Didn’t want to get it.

He swallowed down, and the air was still too hot.

“We need to wait till Miranda’s busy with the ceremony - then, we strike. She’ll never see it coming.”

He was taking his sunglasses off again, running a heavy hand over his eyes. Then he looked up, and looked at Ethan, and Ethan breathed out heavy because he was starting to hate the way the other man looked.

In this light, his irises were practically white.

“Who is going to protect Rose once you’re fucking dead?”

He said nothing. The restraints let up, and he missed the pain intensely.

He understood pain. There was nothing to negotiate when violence was involved.

And now, there was only a dull itch, and the sense that his very world was crumbling – just like when he woke up outside that overturned van, a dead body and a ringing phone for company.

“Trust me on this, Ethan.”

Then, it was lonely and frigid and cold. But now…

“We’re partners, remember?”

Every inch of his being was burning up as he slowly nodded, not trusting his dried up throat with making a sound.

“At least till Miranda’s done and dealt with,”- Heisenberg added with an almost imperceptible smile, and Ethan’s brows furrowed.

“...And after?”

“Let’s not jump too far ahead, shall we? All that matters is that I’m not going to betray you.”

He took a slow step forward, too close. Too far. Ethan hated everything in that one moment.

“You will get Rose back.”

“Fine,”- He finally relented, hating it all that much more, the word tasting acidic on his tongue. He wanted, needed the metal on his wrists to tighten. Why was it still there.

Why was it barely touching his skin.

“We wait till dawn,”- Ethan nodded once again, more to himself than anyone else, saying something just to say anything and stop inhaling the smell of cigar and rust, -“But this better work.”

“It will. It has to,”- Heisenberg nodded at him, no longer looking his way, –“I’ve waited too damn long.”

He whispered that last part. A hollow silence stretched the room thin.

Ethan was still burning, and it concentrated just below his waist.

And he missed home dearly. Everything was so monochrome back then. Their hiding, their fear, their happiness – quiet, simple, muted. The pain wasn’t painful. The smiles didn’t hurt.

It was fine. It was good. Lukewarm.

“...Rose.”

Everything felt so much now. Absolutely everything.

He was miserable.

Heisenberg looked at him from the corner of his eye, and Ethan looked up slowly.

“Rose will be sacrificed at the ceremony?”

He saw the other man sigh. Watched him pull out yet another cigar.

“In a manner of speaking. She is going to become the new vessel for Miranda’s true child.”

“True child?”- Ethan blinked at him, and thought that this was good. He could handle conversation. Probably.

“What, another Lord?”

“Please. We were never her children,”- Heisenberg placed the cigar on the table without lighting, not sparing it a second glance, -“Just a bunch of ragtag experiments that didn’t lose their minds. Well, not all of us, anyway.”

“But why...”- Ethan couldn’t help the question he’s been so successfully avoiding all night, morning, day, and evening. A question he had no idea if he truly wanted to know the answer to. Whatever was holding it back now has burned through, though, and his guts were spilling onto the floor, -“Why her? Out of everyone in the goddamn world, why did it have to be Rose!?”

The other man looked amused, smile almost gentle as his eyes developed crinkles at their edges. Ethan grit his teeth. Tried not to blink.

“You really have no clue how powerful she is, do you?”

He had no idea if he actually was expected to answer – so he kept quiet. Watched Heisenberg and that out of place look on his face. He thought it didn’t suit him. He thought about that giant hammer and wondered where it was.

“It doesn’t matter, really,”- Heisenberg finally said as he shook his head, smile dropping, -“I suspect a lot of it has to do with you, anyway.”

And Ethan held his breath.

“...Me?”

“Who else? You are very special indeed, Ethan,”- He began to walk closer yet again. Ethan could swear the corners of his vision blurred. The scrape of metal against his wrists became that much more noticeable, like a couple of snakes slowly coiling their way around him.

He swallowed hard as that pair of impossibly gray eyes scanned him up and down. Slowly. Shamelessly.

“Your body is... Well, it’s something. Personally, I’m quite... interested in it.”

Filthily.

Ethan felt filthy.

And Heisenberg definitely took pleasure from standing over him like this.

His stomach turned in knots and his jaw clenched painfully as he tried his best and failed to prevent the words from spilling out of his lips.

“Are you... hitting on me?”

Fuck.

He asked and cursed internally immediately after, feeling that much dirtier.

Filthy, filthy, filthy.

It didn’t matter that the thought first entered his head back when he heard the other man enunciate his name, it didn’t matter that it continued to haunt him and evolve from ridiculous to creepy to anxiety-inducing all in the span of a couple of hours. And it definitely did not matter that Heisenberg was now staring at him like a piece of meat moments away from being torn apart, a small incredulous smirk blooming into a full sized grin – it did not matter that he felt his damned pulse betray him once again as it began to jump around his body.

Didn’t matter.

He should have stayed quiet.

By the look on Heisenberg’s face, he should have stayed quiet.

“Oh! Oh, that is rich!”

He wished it didn’t burn.

Loud laughter filled the impossibly hot air of the tiny room, Heisenberg’s eyes blown wide open in that very same expression that told Ethan You never fail to surprise me, -“Where does it all come from!?”

He laughed. And he shook his head. And he laughed some more.

And then Ethan shifted in his chair, and suddenly he was no longer laughing – rather, he was walking closer, those metal cuffs piercing and cutting through Ethan’s skin without so much as a warning, and Ethan’s heart was in his throat and his curse was out his chest.

“Fuck-!”

“Then again... You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck,”- Was all Ethan could manage, wondering if he would even be able to move his wrists afterwards. His hands have been through worse than this – he could manage. He could…

“Only if you ask nicely.”

He threw his head back against the wall again, banging it with a loud thud, incapable of nothing more when Heisenberg crouched down in front of him and began to slowly rack his gloved hands up his thighs.

Whatever Ethan was breathing with just then, it certainly weren’t his lungs – his entire chest was on fire and he meekly tugged at the restraints. It stung.

This – this, he had no clue how he could handle.

Heisenberg laughed again, but it was almost aggressive. A bark of a sound, a single ‘Ha!’, low and reverberating in Ethan’s lower abdomen despite the overpowering need to vomit.

“Really, Ethan, your wife’s body is still warm to the touch and you’re already spreading your legs for another man-“

“Don’t talk about her like that,”- Ethan remembered himself for a moment, a brief goddamn moment that felt akin to a breath in freezing winter air after spending an eternity in a furnace. He tried to kick, and his legs did not listen, -“And don’t fucking touch me.”

Heisenberg’s hands did pause – if only for a second. And then he looked up, and his grin was all sharp teeth and promise to use them.

“No one can blame you for being exhausted, papa,”- He continued to growl, the now soft, barely-there hands tracing the fine seaming of Ethan’s denim jeans, - “All that running around, the pain and the adrenalin... And the worst is yet to come!”

He dug his fingers into Ethan’s legs at that, and Ethan gasped out as his insides twitched.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to let go? Just for a minute?”

“I said-“- He began, voice sharp, and swallowed his own damn tongue when his eyes met Heisenberg’s.

He was no longer smiling.

Ethan wanted to melt into the wall. Dammit, he should have stayed quiet.

“Look, Ethan, I think we have a misunderstanding here,”- Heisenberg began, thumbs slowly, slowly, so painfully slowly rubbing up, the leather and the denim heating up in between sweaty skin.

“Damn right we do,“- Ethan muttered, and tried not to push into the touch.

“You see, this is hardly any more dignified for me than it is for you,”- The other man continued, fingers circling, impossibly light, as though trying to pretend they weren’t there in the first place. Ethan knew they were. He felt them just fine, -“But I’ve been working, too. And personally, I think I’d like to let go. Waste some time, so to speak.”

And at this, Heisenberg tilted his head, and grinned.

“We got time to waste.”

He kept on looking at Ethan, as though waiting for a sign. As though Ethan could ever possibly agree to-

As though Ethan could even entertain the idea of-

“How about this then,”- He suddenly said with a heavy breath when whatever expression Ethan’s face was contorted into didn’t seem to satisfy, -“You… don’t have to say anything.”

His voice dropped to a whisper at the same time as his eyes dropped down to stare at Ethan’s crotch. Ethan’s hips reared back into the chair. His heart was in his throat.

“Just don’t stop me, Ethan. And then we can both... Pretend.”

Heisenberg didn’t say anything else, barely made another sound or move. Just licked at his lips, slowly.

And Ethan- Well, Ethan just sat there, constrained to the wall, legs shaking, hands shaking, this- this man that he was fully intent on killing just a couple of hours ago in between his thighs, and his cock fucking throbbing. It was the most miserable he’s felt in goddamn years.

He was burning.

He never wanted to not be burning.

Heisenberg didn’t look like he was breathing.

Without making a sound, Ethan turned his head to the side and held his own breath. Grit his teeth. He felt those damn hands methodically, achingly move up his thighs, pet up his lap and slide alongside his jeans’ pockets over to his belt. He could swear he was experiencing vertigo.

“Okay. Okay,”- Heisenberg kept on whispering, and he couldn’t see his face but he could swear that that shit-eating grin was plastered all over it, and suddenly, the hands were gone, and Ethan didn’t dare look, -“Good. Perfect. Close your eyes.”

He did as he was told without a thought. Was simply glad the other didn’t gloat.

He didn’t dare think. In fact, thinking was the last thing he wanted to do, ever, because then he would realize that he’s made a decision here, and god, what did that say about him-

“Shit...”- He muttered when the hands returned, now noticeably glove free, and burning even hotter than Ethan himself, something about Heisenberg’s skin scorching like a goddamn oven. His eyes flew open involuntarily when he felt, heard his belt being opened, his body already shifting in its seat for easier access. He didn’t dare turn his head.

He really wanted to turn his head.

He exhaled a slow breath, and he didn’t think.

Heisenberg’s fingers were at his zipper now, the sound of it sliding down like the crack of thunder to his ear in the quiet room. Ethan was struggling not to pant, swallowing hard when his tongue kept drying up from all the hot air. The silence was killing him. The sound of his breathing was making him sick.

When did this room become so stuffy. He needed air. He desperately needed-

“Fuck!”- Ethan screamed desperately bucking forward when Heisenberg’s face was suddenly stuffed into his crotch, nose and mouth pressed to his still-covered cock as he took another deep, filthy inhale.

When did this happen. How did this-

“Fuck is right, Ethan,”- He muttered, lips moving against the shaft with every word, hot breath making Ethan’s hips twitch and his legs fall apart wider, -“You smell like... Fuck.”

Ethan couldn’t breathe. He could not goddamn breathe and he didn’t want to breathe.

He tried pulling at the restraints again, and they still did not let up. An electric chill ran down his spine and he began to grind his hips against Heisenberg’s face, desperate for literally any kind of friction, even if the beard did itch.

“Fuck,”- He muttered breathlessly again when the other pulled away, finally looking at Heisenberg for the first time since he somehow agreed to this happening, saw that exact grin that he was expecting, and suddenly, those canines did not look so much terrifying as inviting.

Suddenly, he felt like he could negotiate this too.

“Your mouth-“

Ethan swallowed again, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down painfully as whatever he wanted to say died down just as suddenly as it came up. He saw Heisenberg blink at him in dry amusement, watched him slowly stand up and take off his stained-through trench.

“Don’t talk, alright? Make this easier for both of us.”

Ethan obeyed gladly, instead opting to look over the curve of muscle underneath the yellow shirt, the peak of collarbone where the buttons weren’t closed. Everything about Heisenberg was distinctly man and that, too, drove him absolutely wild. He’s never done this before. Never thought he’d want to. Never had any reason to.

Then the other lurched forward towards his face, and Ethan’s head connected with the concrete wall one more painful time.

Heisenberg stopped just shy of his lips, still grinning as a deep, cigar stained laugh escaped his chest.

“Ethan, please. Did you really think I’d stoop so low as to defile you with a kiss?”

Then again, he never met any other man quite like Karl Heisenberg.

His words were one thing, but they were also burning against Ethan’s mouth and they were hungrily gulping each other’s breaths in the tiny space between them. And then, just as fast and unassuming as everything he did, Heisenberg stuffed his nose into Ethan’s neck again and took another desperate huff.

“Could smell you all day when you’re like this,”- Ethan heard him mutter, low enough to be a vibration, quiet enough that Ethan thought it wasn’t meant to be heard at all, and it was almost concerning how flattering he found those words to be all things considered. The heat went straight to his cheeks. He was goddamn blushing.

Heisenberg placed a steady hand on his cheek, angled his face away as he swiftly licked at his neck, and then just as quickly bit down with his horribly sharp teeth.

“Shit!”- Ethan yelled, his voice a shameful moan that he couldn’t prevent even if he wanted to, and his hips were once again seeking friction in the shitty metal chair that he was beginning to hate. It scraped against the floor painfully.

The bite wasn’t anything Ethan expected, and it was everything he wanted. He threw his wrists against the restraints again, panting hard as Heisenberg sucked at his pulse, never feeling so exposed in his life. The other man’s hand slid down to palm his cock, and Ethan felt his eyes roll backwards in his head.

The words were spilling out of his mouth before he could even catch himself, his voice low and distant and not his own when he heard himself begging, -“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

He could only remain quiet for so long, it seemed.

Heisenberg paused in leaving hard bites at his neck, raised his head to look at him once again in raw wonder.

Interesting, he called Ethan, and in hindsight, that statement could have meant absolutely anything. Facts about European bird migration patterns were interesting. Didn’t mean Ethan was going to fuck a crow any time soon.

“Please,”- He asked. Nicely.

And just this once – just this goddamn once he was glad that interesting really did mean what he thought it meant, because Ethan was so hard it hurt to move, and Heisenberg looked like he could very easily move Ethan himself.

And so he did exactly that.

As if in slow motion, he saw the other man pull back and take a few certain steps back, eyes never leaving Ethan’s, a hand flying out in front as Ethan simultaneously found himself being lifted off into the air, the pull on his wrists unreal, his arms feeling like they were going to pop right out of their shoulder sockets any second now. The world went black for a second as he was being turned around in mid-air, the room and all its contents tumbling in his vision as he was sent flying back across the entirety of it, finally landing with his back thrown against the weirdly hard bedding.

His breath was knocked out of him.

His entire body melted regardless.

And his wrists were still pinned up over his head with the metal scraps, arms beginning to feel sore.

He was lying on this shitty, dusty bed in this shitty, dusty room, completely helpless and hopeless after what was definitely the absolute worst day of his life, body and mind burning through with pain, this person who was more animal than man, who came excruciatingly close to ending Ethan’s very life, who could still end it with a single sweep of his hand looking at him like he was going to consume him.

And as Heisenberg quietly began to make his way over there, taking the time to unstrap his belts and tug off the random pieces of scrap he had hanging around his neck, Ethan wondered why in the fucking hell was he finding all of this so agonizingly arousing.

He heard the other man throw the belts down to the floor, buckles hitting the shaggy carpet with a dull clink, shirt undone to mid-waist by the time he reached the bed; watched as he climbed onto it one knee at a time, throwing them over Ethan’s body and lowering his full weight on top of his thighs.

Ethan squirmed underneath it, and refused to think any more.

“I figured you were impatient, but really, Ethan…”- Heisenberg leaned down slowly, hovered over his lips for the briefest of seconds before going for the neck again, and Ethan practically whined, -“You need to learn how to let go.”

He felt a scrape of teeth right in the middle of his throat, Heisenberg making his way down as he licked with his tongue, reaching the hollow spot between the collarbones and just- sucking right at the skin there. Ethan’s entire body arched up, and the other man’s hands were on his hip and shoulder, holding him down easily, pressing him into the bed like he didn’t weigh a thing.

“Yeah, well- Some might say I got issues,”- He rasped out finally finding his voice, pushing against the hold that he was certain was going to leave blisters on his skin. He felt the following chuckle rumble through Heisenberg’s chest into his own and shuddered.

“Then I’ll just have to fuck you so hard you’ll forget all about those, hm?”

His whole body was shuddering. His head was swimming.

Ethan was used to being manhandled – it was basically his second nature at this point, what with everything that happened in Louisiana and in the past day. But he was no goddamn pushover – he was used to fighting back.

So he pulled at the restraints again, desperate, knowing full well they wouldn’t budge a bit, and he bucked his body against the hand that was as solid as metal itself, that was now travelling underneath his shirt, slowly, painstakingly, and he craned his neck back far enough that he was now staring at the rust colored wall.

And when none of that worked, and when Heisenberg simply continued to nip at his collarbone, his burning fingers slowly raking up Ethan’s stomach, up to his nipple where he began to rub with his thumb, Ethan swallowed down the remainders of his pride that he didn’t think he’d still have anywhere on him, and did what he hated most.

He asked for help.

“Heisenberg,”- He whispered, voice hoarse and dry as his wrists kept wriggling in the cuffs, still trying knowing full well there was no point. He could negotiate this one, too.

“Ethan, please,”- The other man murmured against his stomach, where he was now pressing a particularly wet and toothy bite. Ethan let out a hiss, -“I think we might as well be on a first name basis, all things considered. At least, while your cock is still hard.”

And he punctuated his claim by pressing an almost gentle kiss down next to Ethan’s navel as he ran his fingertips alongside his bulge, making Ethan’s guts knot together.

Swallowing down the suffocating grip on his throat, Ethan tried again.

“Karl.”

His bones were at their breaking point with how hard he was pulling.

“I also wouldn’t object to ‘sir’, or maybe ‘daddy’, but use those at your own discretion,”- The other muttered from somewhere close to Ethan’s ribs, his smile stretched out against sore skin.

“Karl,”- Ethan simply said, and then, when Heisenberg didn’t so much as budge, he huffed out an angry breath, his tone guttural, -“Karl, goddammit, look at me.”

He did.

Heisenberg raised his eyes, blinking slowly from underneath his hat. From this angle, they somehow looked a soft brown. Almost like a puppy’s.

He raised an eyebrow.

Ethan swallowed.

“I want you to free my arms,”- He stated matter of fact, and watched as the other man grew tense, shoulders visibly stiffening up underneath the rumpled shirt.

There was a gut-wrenching moment of absolute silence, with nothing but the distant sounds of machine whirring and their heavy, messed up breathing to fill in the gaps. Ethan squared his jaw, and tried not to lick his dried out lips.

And then, Heisenberg moved his hand, and the restraints were gone, violently scratching Ethan’s hands as they flew into the wall across and got lodged in the concrete, cracks webbing their way around the holes.

“What, the daddy thing was too far for you?”

Ethan suddenly felt drunk with the regained freedom, immediately rubbing at his burning, itching, pulsing wrists, each bearing red rings of angry inflamed skin.

“Hm. You’re no fun,”- Heisenberg said then, voice a breathless whisper and expression dark as he began to throw his knees off of Ethan. And before he could move another inch, Ethan’s hands were on his shoulders, his face, his neck, roughly pulling him back in, lips pressing hard against Heisenberg’s and he didn’t hesitate for even a second before darting out a tongue and inserting it into the other man’s mouth. The beard was coarse and itchy against Ethan’s skin, their teeth clicking together from the sheer force, and his hands immediately got lost in the long frustratingly soft hair, finally knocking back that stupid hat that he’s hated since the moment he laid eyes on it. He thought Heisenberg made a noise and proceeded to ignore it, moved instead to take his own jacket off tongue still in the other’s cheek, threw it across the room without ever opening his eyes, and in a second his hands were back on Heisenberg’s face. He held it with enough force to bruise, was hoping to leave a bruise, his fingernails digging in and leaving angry red marks against his cheeks, adding more scars to his collection, his teeth meanwhile catching on the one that decorated Heisenberg’s lips. He licked at it temperamentally, liked the shape it formed against his tongue, and felt the other man press an unsteady hand against his chest, pushing him back. Ethan allowed it to, but not before catching his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling back - and only then did he finally let go and take the deepest goddamn breath he’d taken yet.

Well. He, for one, had no idea he was going to do that. That was the drawback of not thinking.

Things happened.

Heisenberg was panting loudly, mouth hanging open, something canine in his expression as he simply stared, eyes wide in shock and wonder and a nasty trail of saliva smeared against his crimson lips. Ethan’s fingers detangled from the messy hair and got wrapped inside his collar instead, pulling him down on top.

That was the benefit of not thinking too, actually. Things happened.

“Well, well, well. Ethan Winters,”- Heisenberg practically purred, stretching out that final ‘S’ against Ethan’s lips, -“Playing dirty, are we?”

“Wouldn’t have to if you weren’t taking your damn time,”- Ethan bit back, drinking in Heisenberg’s laughter with his throat as his own fingers kept travelling further down, finding those remaining buttons of his shirt and working to undo them.

If they were doing this, they were doing this. He didn’t give a damn anymore. Not after tonight.

“So impatient,”- The other man muttered before leaning back into the kiss, his full body weight pressing Ethan down into the bed as he lapped at Ethan’s mouth, tongue practically in his throat, and Ethan moaned desperate, dirty, loud. He did not give a damn.

His hips ground upwards, finally finding friction against Heisenberg’s solid leg, and Ethan dry humped his thigh while Heisenberg��s cigar tasting tongue did horribly filthy things to his mouth. Ethan’s hands grew their own consciousness, suddenly travelling to his dick completely of their own volition, grabbing at the sweaty, hot skin inside his boxers and pulling it out to feel the coarse texture of Heisenberg’s pants. Heisenberg, in turn, finally moved his hands away from Ethan’s face, and was now actively trying to pull off his jeans and sweaty boxers. Ethan didn’t even hesitate before lifting his hips up, found himself gasping and whining when Heisenberg pulled away, his leg and that desperately needed friction now replaced with the frustrating air of the room that was somehow both too hot and too cold.

Ethan more felt than saw the other man begin to untie his boots, throwing an arm over his eyes as his other hand kept working his dick, a slow but steady rhythm, his entire willpower in that one movement that was so much but not nearly enough. He was nearing his edge, and he needed to calm down. He wouldn’t come yet. He couldn’t.

Because then it’d be over. Because then he’d have to face-

“Look at me,”- Heisenberg’s rough hand was suddenly at his jaw, forcing Ethan’s head from underneath his arm, -“Ethan. I want you to watch me. Want you to see me make you cum.”

Ethan near damn choked on his own saliva, eyes practically glued to the other as he pulled off his shirt and threw it somewhere behind, somewhere into the other pile of their dirty messed up clothes – and everything about his body practically smelled of man. The curve of the muscle, the edge of the collarbone, the musk – Ethan was driven crazy by how unfamiliar everything was. Terrifying.

Hot as fuck.

His hands finally left his dick to touch at Heisenberg’s chest hair, thick and curling and strange and so unlike anything of his own. His fingers got lost in it as the other man leaned in once again, an absolutely feral smile painted over his lips as he muttered into Ethan’s neck, -“What? Like what you see?”

“Don’t get cocky,”- Ethan spat back, pinching at a nipple and receiving a way more enthusiastic response than he’d anticipated.

“Mm. Say cocky again.”

He felt Heisenberg’s bulge at his thigh then, grinding once, twice, all the while his lips kept sucking at a single spot at the base of his neck, and he momentarily wondered if he was being fucked or eaten here. Feeling curiosity get the damn better of him yet again, he bit down his lip hard, before allowing himself to mutter quietly, -“Think I’d much rather just take your cock.”

Heisenberg bit down. Hard.

Ethan moaned loudly and didn’t hate how the pain spread throughout the arm like a jolt of lightning. Lycan teeth sinking into his flesh momentarily flashed behind his closed eyes, and he wasn’t sure he could ever sustain another bite ever again without his dick immediately taking interest.

His hands were pulling at Heisenberg’s hair, wanting him to move, needing him to move, to feel those hands, those teeth, that dick. And when the other man finally unclenched his jaws and let go, Ethan immediately crashed their mouths together with no regard for how messy it felt to taste his own blood on the other’s tongue.

“Yeah? You’re gonna take my cock, Ethan?”- Heisenberg panted into his mouth, pulling him up, -“Just wait. Gonna fuck you long and hard. Gonna make you fucking scream.”

Before he knew it, he had somehow climbed into Heisenberg’s lap, was now grinding against his stomach, against his happy trail, his gut, fingers clutching at the beard and tongue lost inside a mouth that was all cigar and wet, and he felt like a damn bitch in heat trying to get off on his own here, more desperate than ever to be fucked. And Heisenberg, damn that fucking monster of a man, pressed his giant calloused hands into Ethan’s hips, fingernails digging into his ass, and in a single move lifted him up into the air and dropped him back down on the hard, spring loaded bed.

Ethan felt the wind get knocked out of him, exhaled hard into the musty air.

“I said wait,”- The other man commanded looking down on him, lips purple and wet and stomach stained with precome, and Ethan felt a full-body shudder run through him like a fucking electric current.

“Do we have to teach you how to behave, Ethan,”- Heisenberg asked, more a statement than a question. He slowly got off the bed, a hand carefully slipping down the waist of his pants, and Ethan felt his mouth run dry.

“Don’t fucking move until I get back.”

He watched with baited breath as that hand snaked underneath the slacks, strokes slow and methodical, his eyes glued to the movement. It certainly helped that Heisenberg was walking through the room backwards, his own gaze just as fixated on watching Ethan’s every twitch.

“That’s right. Just watch. See how fucking hard I am for you, Ethan.”

And Ethan didn’t dare twitch.

His fingers were tangled in the rough yellowed bed sheets and his jaw hurt. But he didn’t move. Didn’t know if he could at this point, really.

Heisenberg only turned his back when he reached the table, picked up something off it and then turned to make his way back, all while jacking himself off shamelessly, breathily. Ethan could see the tip of his dick now and his throat closed up.

When Heisenberg sat back down on the bed, knees spread wide open in between Ethan’s legs, he watched him open a familiar looking bottle and squeeze it into his hand.

“That’s the one from before,”- Ethan noted astutely, eyes frantically travelling between Heisenberg’s own and his hand that was now dipping below the waist of his pants again. He was begging to seriously hate that one single article of clothing.

“Lubricant, Ethan,”- Heisenberg replied just as wisely, licking his lips when his voice sounded a tad too dry, -“Had a feeling we might need it.”

He had a smile on his face. Ethan’s eyes only grew larger.

“Not when- I mean, now. Not when I first-“- The other man suddenly scrambled for an explanation, and Ethan couldn’t help sitting up on his elbows to quirk an eyebrow at him, -“What I mean to say is- I didn’t intend to fuck you the moment I came into this room.”

“You didn’t,”- And despite the absolutely god awful- well, everything that has been going on since he opened his eyes the night before, Ethan found himself actually beginning to smile.

“No, it- One of the Soldats downstairs was sounding rusty.“

“So you were going to use..?”

“Lube is lube, Ethan!”- Heisenberg cracked down, both his hands flying up in the air, and fuck, Ethan couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his throat. He was having fun. He hated that he was having fun, -“I’m running out of oil, alright!? Not exactly a wide variety of suppliers around these parts. Do you even have any idea how much-!”

Ethan didn’t have any idea, and he didn’t care to find out. Instead, he reached to shut the other man up with a kiss that felt disgustingly and alarmingly tender even to himself, and at the same time he reached for the lube that was now staining the bed sheets even further.

“Well, if you didn’t intend to fuck me the moment you came into this room-“- It was Ethan’s turn to graze at the other’s neck, lips and teeth running over heated skin all the way down to the shoulder, tongue darting out to lick at the curve of muscle and tasting salt and bitterness, -“-When did you intend to fuck me?”

It’s not as though he was trying to sound salacious – he was actively curious. Besides, talking gave him the courage to finally slip a lubed up hand down Heisenberg’s disgusting trousers and curve his fingers around a thick, pulsating dick. He ran his thumb down a throbbing vein at the same time as his tongue pressed against the beat of a pulse on the other’s throat, and he felt more than heard the growl that that evoked. He gave the dick a few strokes as he continued to lick, suck, bite, patiently waiting for the answer, his own cock slowly grinding back into Heisenberg’s stomach. He felt it raise and fall with every hitched breath, every stutter and sigh, and he felt powerful. In control.

He felt good.

Until, of course, Heisenberg’s hands came to tug him by the hair, raise his face up to be kissed as he was being pushed onto his back once more, hand still desperately trying to find the right rhythm at which to jack off another guy. Touching a dick that was not his own was novel. The smell in the room was novel.

Despite everything, he still felt damn good.

And then Heisenberg pulled back entirely, taking a moment to look Ethan down with a smile so small it made his insides twist, and then just as suddenly his hands were behind Ethan’s knees, lifting them up as he began to manually turn him over like a life-sized doll.

“Hey, what are you-“

“Well,”- Heisenberg interrupted him, voice something else entirely now as his slick hands ran up and down Ethan’s bare legs, nails lightly scratching where they caught on scars, -“I first thought about fucking you when I saw your dainty little face.”

Another twist, and Ethan was on his stomach now, unsure of how he ended up in this position and feeling weirdly exposed, all things considered. He furrowed his eyebrows at the statement still, trying to recall what he could about their first meeting.

“I first wanted to fuck you-“- A tug at his hips, and Ethan was now basically ass up in the air, feeling like he should probably say something about this and finding that his throat very much refused to work, -“-When you survived my game, and I realized you were very much unlike all the other meat that went through the grinder.”

He could barely breathe now, nose stuffed into the dust smelling pillow and eyes staring wildly into the darkness, terrified of what was going to come next. His dick gave a desperate twitch, neglected, aching. His fingers clutched at the bed sheets.

“And I first knew I was going to fuck you-“- Heisenberg slapped at one of his thighs, then the other, moving them further apart, and Ethan frantically tried not to think about what this looked like, what he was doing, what was going to happen, because-

“-When you first spread those gorgeous legs of yours for me, Ethan.”

Ethan swallowed hard as he felt a wet and slick finger push its way inside him, stomach tied in knots and nausea clouding his barely functioning mind as he didn’t want to remember when exactly was it that he first spread his legs for this man.

He groaned painfully when it was fully in, Heisenberg, for once, not bothering to take his time. Ethan brought up his own arm to bite down on it painfully, the thought that he really was spreading his legs for Heisenberg not leaving his damn head for a second.

Spreading his legs while his wife was-

But that, too, was interrupted when Heisenberg pulled out roughly and replaced the single finger with two, the awkward discomfort now turning into a proper burn inside and out. Ethan’s teeth sank into his flesh deeper, back arching out, and he whined.

“C’mon, don’t be shy now,”- Heisenberg all but mocked him, and for a second Ethan wondered how offended would he be if he were to shoot him just then. Not like it would kill him.

That’d be too easy.

“I want to hear you scream, Ethan.”

And when he added a third finger, definitely way too goddamn early, punctuated with a quick and filthy bite to Ethan’s ass, Ethan obliged readily.

“Fuck you,”- Ethan only just managed, voice coming out barely audible through his strained neck, bucking his hips further as he wondered at what point was this going to feel actually good.

Heisenberg only laughed in return – but maybe that point was coming sooner than Ethan anticipated, because he began to move his fingers then, his other hand finding its way to Ethan’s leaking cock, and fuck, this was everything.

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around, precious.”

Ethan didn’t hesitate to moan at that, too, dignity long forgotten.

“That’s right. Spread those legs for me, Ethan,”- Heisenberg laughed, pressing another wet bite somewhere between his ass and thigh, -“Gonna fuck you till you can’t breathe.”

There was definitely no dignity to speak of in the position he was in, and it was beginning to feel way too damn good to even bother. In fact, it was beginning to feel like not enough.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck, c’mon, fuck me-”- He whined loudly, breathily, the end of each phrase cut off with the thrust of fingers, hanging his head low as his hips were now fucking right into Heisenberg’s hand.

“Yeah- Yeah, that’s better,”- Heisenberg muttered, sounding not quite there himself, and Ethan desperately wanted to see his face. Taste his mouth. Touch his skin.

He bit down on his lip and thought he could taste blood.

“You’re so good, Ethan. So fucking good.”

He was emptied out almost painfully, his insides and outsides pulsating wildly, and his dick ached, but fuck, no way in hell was he coming without having Heisenberg inside him. And just as he turned around to see what the fuck was taking him so long, his eyes landed on Heisenberg’s. His pants were finally, finally off, his cock was out, and he was shamelessly jacking himself once again, lube shining on his fist as he stared at Ethan, mouth hanging open.

“Thought you were going to fuck me long and hard,”- Ethan heard himself saying, breath slowly getting there, anticipation making his knees tremble. He didn’t recognize himself. Had no idea what was happening to him. Only knew he needed to get off, and fuck, he needed it now, -“Are you going to make me cum or what?”

Heisenberg only laughed again.

“Are you always this demanding?”

And Ethan couldn’t help his own smile.

“What can I say. I’m special.”

“That you are, Ethan. That you are.”

Ethan turned back at that, unable to sustain eye contact any longer, thought about biting the pillow and decided against it. Something inside of him was getting ready to burst and he wasn’t sure it was just the arousal speaking, and he couldn’t handle any of that right now. He just wanted to get fucked.

He needed to get fucked.

And so when he felt Heisenberg finally grab him by the hips, he groaned in anticipation.

“Ready?”- He heard a voice ask him, and before he could even so much as think about replying, there was a definite pressure against his ass, and it was almost insulting how fantastic the burn felt inside his guts.

Heisenberg didn’t say anything else, only moaned high and needy, and as he felt him draw back his hips again, Ethan felt himself being tugged back by his shirt, back arching. There was a sudden smell of cigar and gasoline and rust and a hot tongue running up the back of his neck. Ethan cried out, stretching his arms out in front of him and feeling one of Heisenberg’s hands come up and grip at his wrists, pinning him in place yet again, sore skin pulsating wildly against the iron hold.

“Fuck- Never been fucked like this,”- He gasped into the sweat-stained bed sheets, tongue running on its own, lips trembling, -“Feels good. So fucking good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you- You feel fucking amazing, Ethan,”- Heisenberg breathed into his ear, moaned as he went in deeper, and deeper yet, and that was the moment where Ethan definitely felt him hit something inside his guts, and his knees all but gave out from underneath him.

“I could fuck you all night.”

Then do it, he thought, realizing that he would gladly let him if only Heisenberg would keep hitting that fucking spot, because fuck.

“Fuck- Harder, harder- Please.”

Ethan bucked his hips once, twice, falling into rhythm, realizing that before he even knew it he was fucking as much down into the mattress as he was up into the other’s dick, overstimulation hitting him like a pile of bricks and suddenly he was so much closer than he wanted to be. Heisenberg’s hair tickled his cheeks, and when he turned his face, he received a sloppy, lopsided kiss that was every bit as messy as the rest of this experience. Ethan drooled on the pillow as he turned back, bit into it after all as he felt himself nearing the edge, and as though sensing his thoughts, Heisenberg’s hand moved from his hip to his cock to give it the much needed friction.

“You look fantastic like this, Ethan,”- He heard a breathy voice in his ear, felt his eyes roll back in his head as he gasped and groaned, -“I’m going to make you feel so good. So good.”

“I’m-“- He wanted to say and couldn’t, and Heisenberg picked up his pace without question.

“Cum for me, Ethan,”- He gasped against his earlobe, nipping at it in between, something frantic about his movements, -“I want to watch you cum. I want you- I want you-“

Ethan couldn’t hear the rest, didn’t know if there even was a rest. He was coming as though on fucking command, his body in spasms, eyes rolling back in their orbits. He couldn’t move, could barely breathe, and Heisenberg was still fucking into him, still pumping his dick through the orgasm, and fuck, this was the hardest Ethan’s come in all his goddamn life.

He could swear his vision went blank for a good moment there – but that could also have been because he stuffed his face into the pillow. And he only realized that this was the case when his body loudly demanded oxygen – and Ethan wriggled out of the grasp on his wrists to rise up on his elbows and take a deep breath.

Heisenberg slowed his movements, the roll of his hips almost in sync with Ethan’s heartbeat. His vision settled.

It was disgusting.

He felt disgusting.

Spent and tired and wasted and already so full of acidic regret it was beginning to eat him alive.

“You’re so fucking hot when you cum,”- Heisenberg whispered into his ear, breathless. Ethan inhaled sharply.

And so he grit his teeth and swallowed down the repulsive sticky feeling, shifting slowly, certainly. He heard Heisenberg groan, and he knew wanted to see. For how perfectly filthy he was feeling then, he still wanted to fucking see.

“Pull out,”- He demanded when turning around didn’t quite work and he felt the other man still, -“Karl. Come on now, trust me. I won’t leave you hanging.”

He surprised even himself with how earnest he was being there. And then, for emphasis and own personal amusement, he added, -“We’re partners, right?”

Because who didn’t love some good irony.

He had no idea what Heisenberg was thinking, of course, couldn’t claim to - but he wanted to believe that something like this would work. That he knew him well enough by now for this to work.

And it did.

With much hesitation and huffing, Heisenberg did pull out, leaving Ethan throbbing and empty and weirdly cold. And Ethan grit his teeth as he forced his shaky body to work again, at least enough to turn around. Enough to push the panting, confused, and perfectly compliant Heisenberg onto his back and climb on top.

“Let me take care of you now.”

Ethan tried not to think that he looked good lying like that, his sweaty hair spread out on the bed sheets, his eyes somehow both the color of orange rust and clear crystals at the same time, blown out, unfocused yet watching his every move. He really did try not to think about how enjoyable it was to kiss that mouth with that scar, to explore every other scar littering that frustratingly handsome face with his tongue, to hear the soft moans and know he was causing them – but dammit, without arousal clouding his every move, it was too damn difficult. And so he kissed that mouth again and again and again, licked at that scar, at every other scar, if only because he could.

For now, he could.

But then Heisenberg’s hands were moving back to his cock, and Ethan couldn’t have that. He was a man of his word if nothing else, dammit. And now, it was time for payback.

“You going to jerk off while I’m right here? Really?”

It was his turn to grab the other man’s wrists, force them above his head with minimal resistance (and he suspected resistance would be completely fatal in this case anyway), and slowly wrap his own fingers around the swollen cock, drop the remainder of lube on it and spread it through slowly. Heisenberg shuddered, releasing a soundless chuckle as he looked up at the ceiling, visibly trying to relax into the touch.

“You’re going to choose now to learn to take it slow, huh?”- He rasped, breath slowly picking back up again with every stroke Ethan gave him, and Ethan drank it all in like he was watching the most fascinating performance of his life.

“I’m a hands-on learner,”- He quipped back easily, swirling the head with his thumb and forefinger just because he could, and watched Heisenberg quiver.

“Going to fucking kill me,”- Ethan heard him mutter, and he really couldn’t suppress his smile then, licking his dry lips and mentally preparing himself for what he was planning on doing next. He reached down and finally pulled off his disgusting shirt, exposing his chest to the hot air and the sound of Heisenberg groaning in approval.

“Told you I could take you on.”

“Ethan, I swear to-“

Ethan didn’t know who Heisenberg was going to swear to, because at that point he finally managed to swallow down the rest of his disgust, anxiety, and apprehension, and use gravity to lower himself back down on Heisenberg’s dick once more. And sure, it was loads more uncomfortable, painful, the second time around, but fuck if the look on the other’s face wasn’t worth it – Heisenberg swore loudly, throwing his head back as he moaned and his hands immediately shot up to dig into Ethan’s hips and hold him as though his life depended on it.

“You’re goddamn insane,”- He half-whispered, half-laughed out, expressions twitching between incredulity, arousal, and just a simple fucking smile, and it was that last part that allowed Ethan to try and buck his hips forward. Just as an experiment. Just to see what would happen.

“Nah, just special.”

And what happened was that Heisenberg growled, stomach curling in, and Ethan moved again, and again, and again, until he was riding the other’s hips, until he felt himself suddenly get half-hard again and wondered if this was a normal thing to happen right after he’d already come, and before long Heisenberg was moving his hips too and his fingers were leaving bruises on Ethan’s pale skin.

“Fucking hell, Ethan, you feel so fucking hot,”- He breathed out, nails digging in to leave soft scratches against Ethan’s ass, -“So fucking- I knew you were gonna be a good fuck, but- Fuck.”

Ethan spread his legs wider, balls against a sweat-soaked stomach, hands spread out atop the twitching chest, fingers twirling the nipples, and he watched, watched, watched as Heisenberg fell apart.

“Gonna make you cum so hard,”- He whispered seeing him bite down on his lip so hard it bled.

Most dangerous of them all, echoed in his head once again and he barked out a single laugh as he leaned in and captured his mouth in a horrible kiss that was barely reciprocated – Heisenberg was close, and his eyes were screwed shut, and he was gasping and panting and whining and Ethan wanted to consume it all until that was the only thing left between the two of them. He pried away a reluctant hand from his hip and took a couple slick fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking and pressing his tongue into the webbing in between.

“Want you to suck me like this,”- His teeth grazed against the scars there, and he groaned when he felt a trickle of saliva run down his chin, -“Want your lips around my cock. Like this. Just like this.”

With a desperate moan, Heisenberg was coming, and Ethan’s already sticky feeling grew impossibly larger as he felt himself fill up, and if he wasn’t already working his dick to come a second time, this just might have sent him over the edge and turned this whole situation unbearable. As it stood, though, he was simply sitting there, taking it all in, desperately panting and moaning himself as he fucked his hand, twirled his tongue around the press of Heisenberg’s fingers, and tried to get it over with quickly.

And Heisenberg watched him through it all, eyes half-lidded, his mouth a thin, plump line, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He slowly moved to sit up on his elbows, his soft dick still moving inside Ethan, still doing things to him.

With a messy pop he pulled his fingers out of Ethan’s mouth, used that hand to bend him in half, giving him yet another messy kiss.

Only this time, it was slow.

It was slow, and it felt different, and Ethan’s dick was twitching in his hand and it ached.

Heisenberg lifted him off with a tired grunt, Ethan desperately ignoring the sensation of everything leaking out of him, and placed him back on the mattress, back in his place. And then, he yanked Ethan’s hand off, and without so much as another word, replaced it with his mouth.

“Fuck,”- Ethan screamed, the swirl of hot wet tongue making his hips spasm frantically, fingers tugging at the long hair.

Heisenberg took his cock nearly all the way down to the base, then went back up and pressed his tongue against the slit, lapped up at the fluid coming out and removed his mouth again.

“Taste fucking amazing, Ethan,”- He stated, and Ethan had no doubt that that was true. He licked at the shaft in one slow motion, starting at the base and making his way to the head, then back down again, and Ethan heard him take a deep inhale, practically nuzzle against his balls, and he wanted to scream, -“You’re good. You’re so good. Is this what you wanted?”

“Yeah. Yeah,”- He panted, holding the other man by the base of his neck as he fucked against his lips, his cheek, his mouth, leaving streaks of white across hot skin, -“You get me so hard. So fucking hard. Make me cum. Make me cum again.”

“I will. You will cum for me again and again, Ethan. You smell amazing,”- Heisenberg told him just as well, stroking and licking and it was the absolute weirdest blowjob Ethan has ever received in his life, but he was watching Heisenberg practically worship his dick with a look that many did not bother worshipping their gods with, and he was never a fan of dirty talk, but somehow this was now making his guts explode. He watched that mouth wrap around his tip, suck at it almost gently, his breath now a confused mess of moans and curses and growls.

“Fuck. Like that. Fuck, I’m going to fucking cum all over you-“

“Do it. Whatever you want. My face, my mouth, my chest. Anything,”- Heisenberg muttered against the shaft, then took it back down his throat, swallowed hard, and Ethan practically saw stars. By the time Heisenberg pulled back, half of Ethan’s cum was dripping down his chin, onto his beard, his collarbones, his arms.

“Like that, Ethan. Let go. Let it all go.”

And Ethan hated how gently he worked him through the rest of the orgasm, how that made him feel dirtier than the first one when he was ass up and practically blinded, how staring at Heisenberg’s cum-stained face pressed into his thigh was making him feel weak and desperate and like he never wanted to move ever again.

Heisenberg was still pressing a wet hicky into his leg by the time Ethan had finished, had time to come back down from his high, had time to remember everything he’d said and everything that was said to him, had time to feel the dried up fluids covering his body, and had time to realize that this was it. That the distraction was over.

He wanted to sink into the bed and wake up a week later.

He had no idea whose bed he wanted to wake up in.

Heisenberg gave his skin another whiff as he was standing up, looked at Ethan from underneath those greatly hooded eyes and smirked, and then simply walked back across the room to the table butt-naked, cum stains across his abdomen and crotch and chest and beard.

Ethan crawled up the bed slowly, no idea what he was supposed to say now. What was supposed to happen. He was beginning to get cold. His teeth ached.

He watched a very naked Heisenberg wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand, pick up the cigar he discarded earlier, then crouch down and search around for a lighter, which he used immediately.

And then he watched a puff of white smoke cloud the already hot and mussed up room.

This time, when Heisenberg reached over and offered the cigar, Ethan didn’t refuse.

He took a long drag and smoke filled his senses, seeped into his lungs and came back out as a violent cough, everything about the taste making him think of the man in front of him, the feeling weirdly soft for as sickly as it made him feel. His backside burned and he desperately needed a shower.

He didn’t know if regret was the right term for what he was feeling then. It felt about right.

Heisenberg simply laughed, and the sound, too, was making him melt further down into the bed.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”- He asked settling back into bed, throwing a tattered blanket over both of them, and Ethan automatically moved aside to make space. His knees protested the new position.

He passed the cigar over, trying and failing not to move closer. The other man was still burning hot – and Ethan was so damn cold for so damn long.

He watched him take another long, slow drag, and this time instead of releasing it into the air, Heisenberg turned to look at him, blinked slowly once and then smiled and reached over.

Ethan didn’t have the time to think before opening his mouth up for the kiss, tasting the smoke and the cum and thinking it disgusting and yet reaching his tongue deeper in for more.

“Better?”- Heisenberg asked pulling back way too soon, watching as Ethan released a thinning cloud into a room that was beginning to look and feel like a fire hazard.

And Ethan took that moment to look him over. All sweaty and dirty and sullied, hair a wild mess, bite marks covering the entirety of his neck and shoulder, lips puffed out and red, that scar lost amongst the color. Eyes hooded, pupils blown out. A smile so gentle it could crack any second now.

And he looked- Karl looked- Heisenberg looked like a man. A normal, regular, content fucking person who was just happy to be there. Ethan swallowed down a lump in his throat, the smoke beginning to sting at his eyes.

He shuffled in closer, threw a leg over Heisenberg’s own. To warm up, he told himself, and Heisenberg’s expression told him he didn’t mind one bit. You’re alright, it told him. It’s okay.

“Yeah. I think I’m getting the hang of it,”- Ethan told him in a quiet voice. Didn’t know if regret was still in the room with him, or if it managed to slip out somewhere in between all the cigar smoke. He inhaled, and his lungs burned sweetly.

Heisenberg took another slow drag. Leaned back in for another kiss.

And this time, it lasted longer. The graze of lips was slow, the tongue slower yet to follow, gentle and intent on exploring, learning, mapping. And the second Ethan pulled back to release the smoke that was beginning to choke, Heisenberg was back in with another dose. Another kiss that lasted even longer.

Ethan was beginning to suspect the cigar was just an excuse.

His hand slipped over a warm thigh and squeezed. Nothing felt alien anymore.

Just slow. And sleepy.

“You should rest,”- Heisenberg told him when Ethan found himself inexplicably resting on his chest, fingers mindlessly playing with the hairs, throat weirdly tight.

“But-“

“Believe it or not, there’s still time, Ethan,”- He told him, a soft hand running up and down his arm. Ethan exhaled and tried not to think about how this looked. About how this felt. About how he felt, -“Sleep. Rest. I will wake you in the morning.”

He inhaled the smell of cigar smoke readily. Took another look around the tiny room that was the closest he felt to home in what felt like forever. Finally felt like he was no longer cold or hot.

Just warm.

“Okay. Morning it is.”

He settled back. Looked into the ceiling for a long moment, then rose up on his elbows to give Heisenberg another slow kiss – this time, in between cigar drags. Sighed into the little surprised sound he’d managed to extract. Settled back again and crawled further under the blankets.

The room was beginning to look like a dream, and for once, it wasn’t a nightmare.

He pressed his back to Heisenberg. Immediately, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Lips pressed against his shoulder.

Ethan closed his eyes.

“And in the morning, we change everything.”

#wintersberg #karl heisenberg #ethan winters #re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #fanfiction

148 notes · View notes

butwhatifidothis · 3 years ago

Text

Tumblr is starting to VERY MUCH dislike how long the other reblog chain is getting, so this will be Reblog Chain 2 of my jotting down notes of this fic. Here is the first reblog chain for Chapters 1-20

But it appears as though I was correct in sleeping off Chapter 20, because Chapter 21 is. Hm. bad. Very. Not good.

Chapter 21:

Transcript under the cut:

Chapter 21: It's Called Scars so it Gonna Be Ass

- To be blunt, the constant need to reaffirm that yes, Edelgard went through terrible experimentation and that yes, they were very horrific, is tiring. This is chapter 21. The experiments occurred in chapter 2. Every single chapter between now and then have, at some point, mentioned that INDEED, Edelgard DID in fact go through horrific trauma. It is tiring to the reader to constantly have to reread the same thing - we know it happened. We know it was terrible. There's no need to constantly say so; we already understand as readers.

- "Every time the spark of life broke through Byleth’s blank face, it brought a flickering hope to the Flame Emperor’s heart." ->

- Firstly: Awkward use of the Flame Emperor epithet (its usage is on and off with how appropriate its been - this is off).

- Secondly: Once again, Byleth's face was rarely if ever blank. She was never the Ashen Demon, as even the last chapter showcased. The author is mistaking reservation with emotionlessness, which is simply wrong

- "There had been so many empty days and nights, without friendship, love or joy. With nothing to hope for, except someday, the peace of the grave." -> Suicidal tendencies: another trait that Edelgard doesn't have... (strikes against canon: 89)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 12

- "Dimitri, too, was troubled by the thought, grasping the side of his head and frowning. As the spasm passed, he turned to Edelgard and smiled warmly." -> It seems a little callous to so casually toss Dimitri's symptoms into his interactions with others when such things simply don't occur in the canon interactions. It's not impossible, or strictly against canon, but it does not feel natural; it's more as though the author is shining bright neon signs that say DIMITRI HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES than a genuine attempt at writing Dimitri's mental health issues. This is not the first time this sort of seemingly thoughtless showcasing of symptoms has happened (Noted separately: Dimitri having drastic mood swings)

- "No, this world must be ruled by humans…not cruel gods who ignored the prayers of little girls." -> This statement follows Edelgard internally chastising the actions of not gods, but the Children of the Goddess. This is a weaselly attempt at dodging Edelgard's racist beliefs that Nabateans should not be allowed positions of power by shifting the belief to apply to miscellaneous gods instead. While not inaccurate per se - she does also canonically believe that gods should have no power in human affairs - it is not honest

- "Byleth nodded with childlike simplicity. “We should all try to get along.”" -> Again describing Byleth as childlike and/or innocent. Counter: 3

- For those curious: yes, the rat scene is implemented, yes it is sloppy, yes it is out of character for Claude - so much so that it is being noted separately - and yes it is forced to all hell

- What will be noted here, however, is that this is yet another instance of a man being demeaned/humiliated for the honor of a woman. See quote: "Byleth was on him in an instant, a tempest forming in the sea of her blue eyes. “That isn’t funny.” She crossed her arms sternly. “Jokes are about bringing people together...about making them smile. Right now, the only person laughing is you.”" with Claude reacting awkwardly. Once again, Man Bad Woman Good

- In a showcasing of a complete lack of self-awareness within the fic: "“Maybe if you’d have taught the Deer instead…but since you seem to have no ambitions outside of cleaning up Edelgard’s messes…”" -> This is Claude being portrayed as the bad guy, not the one being completely and utterly right

- " She slapped Edelgard on the back, and smiled heartily. “I agree, Dimitri!” Edelgard grimaced, trying to hide the fact her teacher had just struck the wound she had received during the mock battle." -> As well as where undoubtedly countless scars would be, yes? Scars that still cause Edelgard pain? In fact, Edelgard has been slapped on the back by Byleth and Jeralt numerous times before, and yet expresses no pain or discomfort.

- Another thing, that I had not noted though ought to have: Edelgard, a victim of sexual assault (in this fic), rarely seems to mind people touching her. She gets a little surprised if someone tries to get her attention with touch, yes, but Byleth's constant unprompted and random touching of Edelgard is never said to do anything but bring warmth and joy and comfort to Edelgard. It seems as though Edelgard suffering through sexual assault is just another source of trauma for the author to dump onto her for nothing more than pity points

- This is incredibly harsh to say, yes, and I would usually refrain from attributing such harshness onto a piece of text, but remember that Edelgard's scars only cause her pain when it's convenient, that she only experiences headaches when it's convenient, that she experiences PTSD episodes (when Claude mentions the rat) when it's convenient (note that in this fic he does it outside of battle, where her getting triggered wouldn't compromise her chances at victory). Edelgard not being touch averse and being a victim of sexual assault are not inherently something bad - survivors react to trauma differently, after all - but it is another in a steadily longer line of instances where Edelgard is simply given trauma for the sake of making her pitiable to the reader and the love interest, not something that Edelgard genuinely has to struggle with.

- "As Claude and Dimitri looked at their classmate expectantly, Edelgard was wracked with another bout of guilt. Deep in her soul, the princess knew these peaceful days would end soon. When that happened, no feast or vows of friendship could make up for the chaos and horror she would unleash. It would be better to pull away, close off her heart, rather than fuel the flames of her inevitable betrayal." -> Aka, "Feel bad for me, I feel guilty for planning to cause the death and ruination of countless innocents' lives all because I convinced myself that my way is the only way to get things done my way without ever actually trying to see if more peaceful ways could have worked. I'm going to orphan children, force families to fight each other, have the land be rampaged by banditry, and overall bring chaos onto these days that I ADMIT ARE PEACEFUL all because I feel that my way would be better. Wah wah pity me but I don't wanna be pitied I promise wah wah."

- "Byleth shrugged with a characteristic blend of innocence and spirit. “I guess I just like winning.” She began to blush and grabbed Edelgard’s hand. "It's so exciting! I’ve never had anyone other than Papa to celebrate with before!”" -> Byleth = innocent/childlike. Counter: 4

- The fic likes to reaffirm again and again that Byleth is "now" only acting like this due to Edelgard's presence in her life. Note also these statements written previously: "Every day, [Edelgard] was watching the person she loved grow and change. Become who she always was supposed to be." This, perhaps unintentionally, again enforces the "Lesbian Love is Pure and Innocent" trope; these wlw are only allowed to be their good girl, innocent selves - who they were always supposed to be - due to the pure lesbian love they have found with one another

- Count Bergliez didn't know of the experiments initially, but he eventually found out and did nothing to stop them, fleeing from a young and tortured El who was pleading for him to save her - Unnecessarily painting Count Bergliez as a spineless coward too afraid of Duke Aegir to save a child in pain

- Once again, a man fails to save a woman and further traumatizes her

- It should be noted that Bergliez is fearful not for his own life, but for that of his children, who were the ones Duke Aegir threatened. He, very similar to Ionius, cannot save Edelgard, except Bergliez (unlike Ionius) has a tangible, physical, explainable reason as to why he couldn't, and yet it is him who is painted as the bad guy, not Ionius. He is worthy of Edelgard's scorn and hatred, but Ionius only receives a begrudging feeling of betrayal from Edelgard that she feels guilty for harboring, even though he failed her far more than Bergliez failed her.

- "Daughters must always be loyal to their fathers" trope

- "No decent person thought the things Edelgard did. Just as her body had been twisted and shattered by the experiments, her mind bore terrible scars. Scars that the monster kept hidden, so she could walk in the world of men." -> Dehumanizing oneself as a monster as well as having violent thoughts (that specifically stem from trauma) one feels guilty for harboring are not traits Edelgard shows in canon... (strikes against canon, 90, 91)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 13, 14

- "world of men?" Did the author perhaps mean "world of man," as in mankind? Keep note of

- The reason as to why Bergliez is said to have witnessed young El's tortured state and did nothing to help her is revealed: in canon, he dislikes her. It is blatantly and objectively said that he and Edelgard share a mutual displeasure in the other's company. What this fic had him do will be used as an excuse as to why he doesn't hate her, since no one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Edelgard, upon being asked if revenge is the reason she is doing what she's doing (reuniting Fodlan): "“No.” Edelgard put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I think for a long time, it was…but after a while, I realized that revenge wouldn’t satisfy me.” She looked at the blue sky above. “After you go through that much suffering…when you beg for help, day after day, and no one cares...you realize that nothing will ever truly make you feel safe again. The only thing I want is for this madness to end.”" -> This is internally inconsistent. See chapter 15 note: ""You know why they created me in the first place.” / “To reunite Fódlan,” spat Hubert. “It was all my father talked about.” / “And I will give it to them. "" This directly connects Edelgard's want to reunite Fodlan to the wants of her tormenters (as this states she is doing it out of spite). Note how Hubert spits at the idea of reuniting Fodlan, and how it was all his father - portrayed as a villain - talked about. This is not what this Edelgard wants, at least not of her own independent want. Earlier in this very chapter, Edelgard internally states a want to hurt Bergliez for leaving her behind. To say that she now no longer thinks vengeance would satisfy her, or that none of the reason that she is doing everything she does is out of a want for revenge, is ridiculous

- Edelgard to Bergliez, upon being asked what will happen to him and his family should Edelgard rise to power: "“All those who distinguish themselves will be rewarded. Given your history, I have little doubt you will be among them.” She nervously played with her white gloves. “All I ask is that when I seize back control of the throne, I can count on the military’s support.”" -> Yes, all who distinguish themselves to Edelgard, for Edelgard's cause, that Edelgard can see and/or know of. How likely is it that a poor farmer who is exceptional at fighting will actually be noticed by Edelgard and be given the credit he deserves, when others who may not be as meritable but do have some merit have the connections to show themselves directly in front of Edelgard? What means will Edelgard give the poor soldiers (that she or Byleth aren't already friends with, notably Dorothea and Leonie) that will allow them to be able to be seen by her and have their merits recognized? Edelgard is the one who says who gains power after all, so it is her they must prove themselves to, but how can they realistically do that?

- What about professions that are not immediately beneficial to Edelgard's cause, such as the arts? How will they fare in Edelgard's society, when their works and talents yield no tangible, objective results (such as, say, farming)?

- Something the fic will address?

- Edelgard does not nervously do anything in front of those she is trying to negotiate with in canon, not even Thales. Strikes against canon: 92

- "[Bergliez] could only laugh in response. “I think we’re going to get along rather well, my lady…and the other?”" -> Except Bergliez and Edelgard don't get along well, ever. Pre ts they are stated to dislike each other, which continues even onto post ts with Bergliez being the only noble Edelgard couldn't bring to heel. Strikes against canon: 93

- As predicted: No one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Literally forgot Hubert was with Edelgard and Bergliez lmao

- Ionius tried to consolidate power to be rid of the consort system due to his unending love for Anselma -> A ridiculous idea, plain and simple. Ionius was Emperor. If he wished to be rid of the consort system there was no need for him to try and take away all power from the other Imperial houses.

- If Ionius truly loved Anselma, why did he allow her to be exiled from the Empire? Why didn't he step in and use his influence as Emperor to help her?

- Edelgard, when she is Emperor - passed down a supposedly empty crown, at that - showcases the all-encompassing power the title of Emperor truly holds to one willing to use that power. That Ionius supposedly wanted to do all of these reforms and yet nothing at all was done, ever (save for ruining Houses Hrym and Ordelia, something even this fic has as canon), if Ionius did want to make these reforms, means that he was too spineless and cowardly to truly go through with trying to pass them. This again unintentionally showcases how awful a ruler and weak-willed a person Ionius was when he had power when trying to paint him in this righteous light.

- Lambert was stated to be trying to pass reforms before he died in canon, not Ionius. From parents to the children, the author is attributing traits from Lambert onto Ionius just as he (author's confirmed gender is male) attributes traits from Dimitri onto Edelgard

- " Her father and mother…she had thought their romance a fairy tale-a story from her father to make a motherless child feel valued. But…they truly had loved each other." -> Edelgard does believe Ionius when he told her of the story of when he and Anselma (supposedly) met each other. There is nothing to indicate that Edelgard thought it to be a lie: in fact, in canon: "But I choose to believe there was genuine love between them." Strikes against canon: 94

- It seems as though finally, after around 18 chapters, Edelgard's scars will finally cause her genuine inconvenience due to her complex about them as well as her trust issues. She has a gash on her back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion, but will not have it treated if Manuela isn't the healer, and yet the woman is occupied dealing with the rest of the students who were injured. How will this fic deal with this?

- Ingrid, referring to her and Sylvain: ""We just switched from Felix lecturing us all day to listening to Edelgard moralizing, didn’t we?"" -> The author is trying to compare a childhood friend whose friends have had years to get used to their barbed tongue to a stranger that directly insults the dreams of one of them. Something which Ingrid canonically hates having be done to her, even from Felix, a childhood friend. Once again, Ingrid being so casual about Edelgard being so disrespectful of her dreams is out of character. Strikes against canon: 95

- "Sylvain shook his head knowingly, ignoring Felix’s truly alarming scowl. “You should have seen his face, Edelgard. Dimitri would go on and on about this girl he met when he was a kid…and Felix would complain about her for hours!” He looked at Felix and smiled. “For all his whining about the “Boar,” nobody loves Dimitri more than him.”" -> Oh? A romantic gay male relationship presenting itself within the fic?

- Another vision of SS experienced by Edelgard. Word from a nameless guard: "The woman, Byleth, leading their forces... She’s not human! She killed half my battalion with one swing of that sword of hers. She didn’t speak, she didn’t shout, she didn’t even change her expression!” The panicked man was teetering on the edge of hysteria. “All those people rallying around her, and it’s like she doesn’t care at all. Like she's a walking corpse!"" -> Obviously saying that Byleth becomes the Ashen Demon if not allowed to be with Edelgard.

- Unintentional statement: Byleth can't be the pure innocent (lesbian) woman without Edelgard's (lesbian) love granting her purity, reverting her to a monstrous, corrupt demon incapable of humanity

- See chapter 20 note: "Implying that choosing SS - aka, choosing the Nabateans - makes Byleth less human. Intentional?" Confirmed to be intentional. Also false: in canon, even when accounting for CF's lesser chapter count, Byleth emotes far more on SS than on CF, which matches with CF having Edelgard call Byleth detached in their A support. Strikes against canon: 96

- The same nameless soldier, same context: "And those Faerghus kids…” / Edelgard leaned forward in her chair. “Ingrid…Sylvain…what of them?” / “They…they were animals. Screaming and ranting about revenge for the King.” -> Is the author really demonizing Sylvain and Ingrid for (potentially!) being mad at Edelgard for murdering one of their childhood friends? Is that really the depths the Edelgard worship will sink to, that friends becoming enraged at a friend's unjust murder from a warlord is being portrayed as something sad for the warlord? Just what else should Edelgard be pitied for?

- "The scared girl desperately tried to drown out the thoughts that reverberated incessantly. / They’re going to despise us…it’s destiny. And how could they not? If we were truly good, the Goddess would have saved us…protected us. But She didn’t. The Goddess took Mother. She took our family. And soon, She’ll take everything else we love. She hates us. / It’s what we deserve." - Now confirmed that Edelgard hears multiple voices in her head tormenting her. That trait that, once again, Edelgard does not have... (Strikes against canon: 97)

- ...but Dimitri does. This is the third time this chapter that this has happened, and far from the only chapter to display such baffling characterization of Edelgard via Dimitri's traits. It is nonsensical.

- " Why had [Edelgard] even been born at all? Nonexistence would have been preferable to watching every faint dream be dashed, to suffering alone over and over. She was just…so tired of being alive." -> Once. Again. Suicidal tendencies/thoughts is not a trait Edelgard shows in canon... (Strikes against canon: 98)

- ...but Dimitri does. The fourth! The fourth time in one chapter the author desperately wanted to just write Dimitri!

- If the fic wanted to take Edelgard in a different direction than canon does and has her display some of these traits, it would be more passable, but this fic is under the delusion that it is in any way following canon closely, especially in regards to Edelgard, and so this can only be seen as a desperate attempt from the author to have Edelgard be sympathetic by donning the skin of an actually sympathetic character such as Dimitri

- "Edelgard looked at herself in the mirror. The back of her academy uniform was stained red, the rhythmic, soft dripping of blood assaulting the princess’ ears." -> And no one commented on this? No one was worried? Not Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix, who were sitting right by her? Not Lysithea, who saw her take the blow to her back and never get it healed? Not Dimitri, who delivered the blow? It just so happened that literally no one at all noticed this?

- Byleth literally slapped Edelgard on the back earlier? Wouldn't her hand come back red with blood if it were seeping through the uniform?

** The scene that follows the previous note is too long to quote, despite how truly terrible it is. Long quotes, even extremely long quotes, have been presented in these notes before, but the length this quotation would be if the full extent of it were written here would be a mess, and quite frankly, at that point it would do one better to simply go to the fanfiction itself and read the text from there. With the context received from these notes, if one wishes to see the words for themselves, go to chapter 21 of The Emperor and the Goddess, enter Ctrl + F (or Find in Page on mobile devices), and enter the phrase "Byleth crossed her arms, clearly frustrated" verbatim. The following note will not be quoting the entire scene from the fic (merely summarizing it), though context is needed to understand how truly bad the scene is. **

- To have hope in this fic performing anything correctly is proving to be a fool's dream, for it has yet to do anything right; that includes the aforementioned gash upon Edelgard's back. As stated, it did not draw the attention of those who were sitting around her nor did it draw the attention of the one who witnessed the injury itself, nor of the one who delivered the injury itself, so no one commented on the gaping, bleeding wound Edelgard was "hiding" from everyone as she turned her (bleeding) back to them and left for the baths to clean up (it must be heavily stressed: immediately after leaving it is revealed that the blood is seeping through her uniform). As she was washing - naked, of course - Byleth just so happened to step into the baths with only a towel wrapped around her "for modesty," much to the horror of Edelgard, for she does not want Byleth seeing her scarred body. A slight argument arises between the two over Edelgard getting her injuries checked, before Byleth warns Edelgard that she will go to Rhea and force her to go to the infirmary should Edelgard continue to refuse treatment, which drives Edelgard past the brink. She raises her arms from the bathwater and presents her scars (""Fine!... If you want to see so badly, here!""), to the horror of Byleth ("Byleth Eisner was not a woman given to strong emotional reactions, but she staggered back, hands over her mouth."). Edelgard cries in hysteria, fear of her beloved teacher running away in disgust over her ugly, mutilated body overwhelming her. But Byleth, childlike in her innocence, shared that she too is scarred in strange ways, and that she too is scared of failing those around her - that she has no ambitions save to help and protect those around her. Byleth reveals that it is Edelgard whom Byleth looks up to for always being so strong and always moving forward, and shows that without Edelgard Byleth wouldn't know how to handle the pressure everyone else puts on her. The exchange ends with Byleth reassuring Edelgard that she is beautiful and not the monster she thinks she is.

- There is no nice way of putting this: this is a classic example of how not to write someone opening up to another about something. Edelgard views herself as weak, ugly, repulsive, a monster, shameful, but it is Byleth's love and affection that gives her comfort and warmth, that gives her hope of something more. It forces Byleth to behave wildly out of character (the author can try to excuse this with "well she wouldn't normally behave like this!" all he wants, it doesn't matter when it goes against the base, canonical Byleth. Strikes against canon: 99) in order for Edelgard's scarred body to be seen as something that is repulsive, that is ugly, that is stained, so much so that the pure, childlike, innocent Byleth couldn't stand to see something so tainted. And yet it is that same pure, childlike, innocent Byleth's pure, innocent, childlike love that pushes away the pain of Edelgard's scars for just that moment. Other characters become suddenly blind and/or forgetful of Edelgard's obvious, bleeding wound so that it is Byleth who can be the one to save Edelgard with her pure, innocent, childlike presence and her pure, innocent, childlike uncertainty about her own insecurities (but only when it is convenient for Edelgard, as even Byleth didn't noticed the gaping, bleeding wound until she was alone with Edelgard where no one could interrupt their bonding moment). This scene is inorganic and forced, ham-fisting Edelgard and Byleth in the same room - the wash room, where both are either naked or nearly naked - so that Byleth is the one to find Edelgard, no one else. No one was worried enough about the sudden exit Edelgard took from the conversation she was having to follow her and make sure she was alright, and Byleth just so happened to enter the baths right after Edelgard. The scene is, to be frank, insulting.

- There have been a couple of joking references to a book titled Stones to Abigail in these notes, but in all seriousness, this scene plays unsettlingly similar to a scene in said book, where a scarred girl who is naked reveals her "ugly" and "revolting" scarred body to the love interest, who goes on to soothe and comfort the naked girl as best they can. The resemblance is uncanny

- Byleth described as childlike/innocent. Counter: 5

- Edelgard, in canon, never expresses feeling herself to be ugly, or repulsive, or a monster. Strikes against canon: 100

- Again, Edelgard's scars are only important when they are convenient - this time, in helping develop the romantic relationship between her and Byleth

- There are ways in which scars can be utilized without being problematic, but certainly not when this much focus is placed on them and yet they are only truly present when they cannot hinder Edelgard.

- Perhaps particularly insulting is this phrase from Edelgard: "Did she actually love Byleth at all, or just being saved by her?" Yes, Edelgard, you do simply want to be saved by Byleth, because that is precisely what the narrative has been drilling into the reader's heads ever since Byleth showed herself. Byleth is Edelgard's light, Byleth is Edelgard's hope, Byleth gives Edelgard back her humanity, Byleth is Edelgard's one source of joy, Byleth is Edelgard's entire life, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this fic has shown this to ever be a bad thing. This dependence on Byleth to bring Edelgard joy at the near complete expense of everyone else has been propped up as something romantic, and yet it's now, 21 chapters and over 85K+ words in, that we're supposed to believe that this was actually Edelgard being unhealthy? Even though the author himself said that this was what he enjoyed about their relationship, how much they found each other in each other? Even though we see what the author thinks would happen to the two of them should they separate - Edelgard, lonely and afraid without her beloved teach, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon who cares for nothing without her beloved student - in her visions of SS? This is a joke

- It cannot be overstated that Byleth came to the bathhouses completely independently of Edelgard. She did not come to specifically see her because she followed her out of worry for Edelgard due to her injury - she only knows that Edelgard's injured in the first place due to seeing bloody bandages that Edelgard removed in the bathhouse, before Byleth arrived.

- Author's notes: "On Bergliez, we find out very little in-game, but he 1) offers himself for execution so his men can go free in SS and 2) seems to be actually competent at his job. I thought a nuanced portrayal was more interesting, since I've been writing Aegir as the absolute worst person in the world." -> Note: this is what the author believes to be a nuanced take on someone. Someone who likes Edelgard entirely and does nearly whatever they can to help her, but they did one thing that's morally gray (leaving a child behind to save his own children from the same fate) that is portrayed as objectively bad, so now they are nuanced. While perhaps this sort of character would be truly nuanced in better hands, as it is with his actions being portrayed as something that is obviously so completely and utterly wrong and him someone who deserves complete and utter condemnation - and yet Ionius, who does far worse for far less understandable reasons, gets a comparative slap on the wrist - it causes confusion as to Edelgard's lines. Bergliez seeing her the one time and never helping her is enough for her to want to hurt him as she was hurt, but her father repeatedly coming to and "being forced" to watch her actively be tortured and doing nothing does little to invoke similar depths of resentment? Even granting the idea that "she gives more slack to her father," Ionius is objectively and far worse than Bergliez, down to doing hard things to protect their children, and yet it is only Bergliez who is shined in this unpleasant a light

- To be clear, Bergliez's decision was not a good one, but understandable. It is a gray decision to make. But notice how he is called "gray" and "nuanced" and yet Ionius is nearly completely innocent, as described by the author himself, despite their being no given explaination as to why "he was a figurehead" should be a good enough reason to wash him literally standing there and watching as his children - some of whom aren't even teens yet - get slowly tortured and killed.

- "There are many localization changes I understand (Byleth wanting to get drunk after the battle is one of them), but Treehouse's decision to remove Ionius' entire reason for power centralization (eliminating the consorts) was a big, big mistake." -> Given the history of this author's grasp on the Japanese language, this needs to be checked, as he cannot be trusted as a source as to whether this is true

******* Notes of Claude mischaracterization: Chapter 21, section 1, paragraphs 1, 21 & 23, 27 *******

#o captain my captain #is the Cap'n's name fuckin' Greg holy shit #this chapter was baaaaad #b-but hey maybe i'm just being overly critical?

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babybluebex · 4 years ago

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not your duke [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: prince!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 2.7k ➽ summary: at the dawn of the new century, you meet two men: one, your betrothed, and the other, a prince with a secret. ➽ warnings: explicit language, gothic era shit bc i live for that ➽ a/n: many thanks to the loml @earthlyholland for coming up with the title and urging me to finish writing this i luv u kiss

Nothing had ever drawn you into London. In fact, you were staunchly opposed to the idea when your father first told you that you were moving. What was the point of it? You knew that your father could conduct business as easily from the States as from England, but what’s done is done. You had lived in London for a short time, only a few months, before you realized the real reason why your father relocated you.

You met your fiancé at a party. London was known for its aristocracy, and your father’s banking business had put him in high regard with many of the British elite, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were invited to a New Years party. “The Osterfields,” your father told you. “I’m told they have a son only just older than you.”

“Really?” you asked, looking out the window, hardly curious. “His name?”

“Harrison,” your father told you. The carriage bumped along the street, and you swayed with it. “The Honourable Harrison Osterfield of Kingston.”

“Of course he’s noble,” you muttered. “Father, will you ever stop trying to marry me off?”

“Your younger sister is already married,” your father reminded you. “If it’s not soon, it’ll never happen. And Sir Harrison is a perfectly agreeable gentleman.”

“Agreeable to you,” you scoffed.

“He’s an Oxford-educated man,” your father pressed. “Well-read, which I know is something you covet. I’m told he’s a good conversationalist as well; I guess you’ll be able to judge that for yourself tonight.”

You cried out in opposition. “Father! Am I to meet Little Lord Fauntelroy tonight?”

“Watch your tongue, girl. You are to meet your fiancé tonight.”

The New Years party hosted by the Baron and Baroness Osterfield was what you expected, a lush spectacle of champagne and pleasing music and perfume. It wasn’t the sort of place that you usually found comfort at, but you tried your best; the Baron Osterfield was a close business partner of your father’s, and you couldn’t afford to muck everything up by having a foul attitude. “Lord Osterfield,” my father began, placing a hand on my back to usher me into his conversation. “Might I introduce my daughter?”

The man before you was older, his fair hair tinged with a bit of grey, but he was dressed wonderfully in his tails and a red tie. “Pleasure to meet you, miss,” he said in a sonorous voice. “You’re the lass that’s engaged to our Haz, yes?”

“So I’ve been told,” you smiled, and your father sent a warning pinch to your back through your dress. Attitude, you could hear him scolding you.

“Have you met him yet?” Lord Osterfield asked. “He’s a strapping lad; running around with his uni mates, I’m sure.” He looked around the room, bustling with activity, and he made a quick motion with his hand when he spotted someone across the room.

The space before you was suddenly filled by a young man, still older than you, blond hair and green eyes, a wonderful smile on his face and his cheeks blushed. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, and he took your hand in a gentle but strong hold. “Hello, madam,” he said cordially. “I’m called Harrison. Haz, to most.”

“Haz,” you repeated slowly. “I’d rather keep with Lord Osterfield, if that pleases you.”

“Of course, madam,” Harrison said. “Might I interest you in a turn about the garden? It’s such a lovely night.”

You looked to your father for permission, and he patted your back with a nod. Harrison saw this and gave a smile, and you hooked your arm with his as he led you out into the cold December night. Harrison’s body was warm and you found yourself moving into him, and he finally stopped at a metal bench along the path. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Harrison asked, settling himself onto the bench.

You shrugged. Harrison took that to mean “No”, and he situated a cigarette in his mouth. It was rolled perfectly, either the work of a skilled amateur or a professional; either way, it was the smallest proof of his aristocracy. All of your friends smoked lopsided cigarettes that had tobacco that spilled out of the ends.

“I’m sure you like this as well as I do,” Harrison began. “I told my parents that I prefer to marry for love, but my younger sister is already married. They said it was getting to be--”

“Too late,” you supplied. “My father said the same of me.”

“You prefer to marry for love as well?” Harrison asked. Feeling slightly more at ease than before, you sat down next to him, fiddling with your skirt to lay right.

“I would like to,” you said. “But we both know that’s not possible.”

Harrison shrugged. “We only have a few minutes left of this year,” he said, looking at the Swiss watch on his wrist. “Who knows? Maybe 1900 holds newfound possibilities.”

You tilted your head. “What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“I’m not sure,” Harrison chuckled. A strand of blond escaped the rest of his styled hair, and you gently pushed it back, earning you a smile from your fiancé. “I’m just hopeful.”

“Hope can be dangerous,” you remarked.

“That’s true,” Harrison said. “But what’s the harm in having a little hope? Perhaps we can learn to love each other.”

“Perhaps we can,” you agreed. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to do that.”

Harrison smiled at you, and you huffed out a laugh. He pulled a drag from his cigarette, and he said, “So we’re getting married, huh?”

“Seems like it.”

There was a shout from the house, one that made Harrison look over, and you did as well to see a man, about the same age as Harrison, dressed nicely with curly hair, half-hanging out of the house. “Haz, get your stupid arse in here!” the man yelled. “Find your girl, the clock’s about to turn!”

“I have my girl, you git!” Harrison cried. Before either of you could say anything, the man slipped from the house and came over to the two of you, and Harrison rolled his eyes. “Here we go…” he whispered.

“This is her?” the man asked. He was British too, and he smiled at you widely.

“Yes,” Harrison said, and he stood up. You did the same, and Harrison carefully took your hand. “This is Y/N, my fiancé.”

“Ah,” the man said. “Hello, madam.”

“Y/N, this is one of my mates from university,” Harrison told you. “Duke Harold Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames.”

“Call me Harry,” he said quickly. “Everyone else does.”

“Harry,” you said with a relieved smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Harry said. “Have you only just met?”

“Just several minutes ago,” Harrison told him, his arm snaking around your waist.

“Well, it’s quite cold out,” Harry said. “And the clock’s about to turn. Come in, madam, get a drink.”

“Oh, I don’t drink,” you told Lord Harry Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames quickly. “It doesn’t agree with me.”

“No matter,” Harry said. “I’ll warn you, though: a drink completely agrees with your fiancé.” He gave a laugh, and you noticed that Harrison shifted uncomfortably next to you.

“Well, Christ, don’t make me out to be a drunkard,” Harrison laughed nervously. “You’ll frighten her away, and we only just agreed to go through with this.”

“Not meant to frighten you, madam,” Harry said quickly. “In fact, my oldest brother doesn’t drink. Perhaps you two will get along.”

“Oh, no, Harry, she’ll hate Thomas,” Harrison sighed. He looked at you, then added, “Thomas is quite a bore, honestly. Not nearly as fun as me, Harry or Sam.”

“Sam? Thomas?” you asked. You agreed that Haz and Harry seemed like fun, but anxiety thrummed in your chest. If Thomas was a bore to Harrison, you didn’t want to know what he truly thought of you. You could easily also be classified as a bore: you preferred reading and drawing to the piano or squash that was popular with your friends. You had done ballet when you were growing up, but were by no means athletic otherwise.

“My twin brother, Samuel,” Harry began. “And Thomas is… Haz is right, he’s an awful bore. He brought a fucking book tonight, can you believe it? What sort of sod brings a book to a party?”

“But Thomas is a good friend,” Harrison added. “He’s a wonderful listener and gives excellent advice.”

You nodded slowly. Thomas already seemed like a better match than Harrison, and you cursed your father. Of course he would match you with someone who wasn’t the best option for you. But no matter. Your fiancé offered you his arm and you took it, and you followed the men back into the ballroom. There was a renewed energy, and the ballroom was abuzz. You were introduced to Duke Samuel Holland, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Harry (as they should), and were briefly told about the twins’ younger brother, a boy of sixteen named Lord Patrick. The Honourable Charlotte Osterfield came after Sam, and she was giggling the entire night; she was engaged to Sir Tuwaine Barrett of Chelsea, another uni mate of your fiance’s.

“Where is Thomas?” Harrison asked, looking around wildly. “He promised me that he’d be my New Years’ kiss!”

“Did he swear to it as he did to Nadia?” Harry chortled. “I bet he’s gone home already. Slipped away without any of us noticing.”

The clock chimed, and Harrison turned his jade gaze back to you. You gave him a gleeful look over the brim of your champagne as you took a sip, and your body cowered at the bitterness of the French alcohol. “Happy New Year, dearest,” Harrison said quietly, just for you to hear. “Here’s to many more.”

You nodded. Suddenly, your chest felt tight, and your head was spinning, and you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. You suddenly saw the rest of your life flash in front of your eyes: The Honorable Lady Osterfield, on your husband’s arm every single day, expected to please him and serve him. You didn’t want that.

“Y/N,” Harrison said, putting a hand on your shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you at least felt comforted at his genuine worry. “You look pale. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “Quite fine. I told you that alcohol doesn’t agree well with me.”

Harrison nodded, his lips drawn thin, and he turned to Harry. “Call her carriage,” he instructed him. “I think my dearest needs to go home.”

Harry nodded, giving you a worried look, but hurried off to do as his friend requested. Harrison took the flute of champagne from you and set it down, and he put a hand on your back. “I hate that you’ve gone ill,” he said. “I do wish we can see each other again, though. I enjoy your company greatly.”

“And I, yours,” you replied. “I really apologize for my behavior--”

“Harrison,” a booming voice came, and you looked to see the Baron Osterfield approaching you. “I need to speak with you, son.”

“Father, can it wait?” Harrison asked. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“His Majesty needs to speak to you,” Lord Osterfield said. “A business venture, he says.”

Harrison looked from you to his father, and he chewed his bottom lip. “I’ll be right there,” he told his father. “I just need to escort Y/N to her carriage.”

“Harrison, Dominic cannot be kept waiting,” Lord Osterfield grumbled. “Especially not on such a matter.”

Harrison looked at you once more, then his eyes caught someone behind you. “Thomas,” he said. “Thomas! Come here, please!”

Your heart hit against the wall of your chest when you finally saw Thomas Holland. He was a well-built man, wearing nice clothes that were a bit worn in places. His hair was dark, and in frizzy curls, crawling down his face, as was the fashion. His eyes were the color of amber, his cheeks pink, his lips thin but like a rose. He had a book under his arm, bound in leather, a bit of paper sticking from the top. “Would you do me an amazing favor?” Harrison asked. “I have to speak to your father; can you escort Y/N to her carriage out front?”

“Y/N?” Thomas asked, and your heart warmed and melted just like chocolate. He had a beautiful voice, and you could just imagine the way he sounded as he read aloud.

“My betrothed,” Harrison said, gesturing to you. “She’s fallen ill and must be taken home at once.”

Thomas finally pulled his gaze to your face, and a lopsided smile came across his face. “Oh, of course,” he said. “Such an honor to meet you, madam.”

“Same to you, sir,” you said. “I’ve heard tell about you.”

Thomas’s smile faltered. “Good things?” he asked.

“Nothing but the best,” you said. You still felt dizzy, but Thomas’s warm hand on your arm brought you comfort, much more than Harrison’s did. “I apologize again, Lord Osterfield. I hope to see you soon.”

Harrison kissed the back of your hand. “Same to you, dearest.”

Thomas led you out of the crowded and loud ballroom to the front of the manor. “Lord Osterfield?” he chuckled lowly. “He’s your fiancé. You should call him by his name.”

You shrugged. “I can’t bring myself to,” you said. “I hardly know him.”

Thomas nodded. “I understand,” he said. “So… Harrison told you good things about me?” You nodded, and Thomas let out a laugh. You could tell that it was bitter, though. “Excuse my language, madam, but that’s a load of horseshit. You know it as well as I do. Harrison only puts up with me because my brothers are his closest mates.”

You were startled at his honesty. “I suppose that’s true,” you mumbled. “My sisters are the same with me. They call me boring, say I’m no fun.”

“The same is said of me,” Thomas said. “I’m perhaps the least commendable of my brothers.”

You nodded carefully, then tilted your head to look at his novel. “What are you reading?” you asked.

Thomas smiled. “You’d like to know what I’m reading?” he asked. “Are you actually curious?”

“Yes!” you said. “I just read the most wonderful novel, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s called McTeague and it’s about an American dentist--”

“By Frank Norris?” Thomas asked excitedly. He pulled out the book to show you, and you smiled at the same one you had been describing. “It’s so entertaining. You’ve finished it, then?”

“Just last night,” you told him. “I won’t spoil it for you, but it was so wonderful.”

“Have you read The Picture of Dorian Gray?” Thomas asked. When you shook your head, Thomas’s face went red, and he laughed. “It’s my favorite. I could lend you my copy, if you’d like.”

“Oh, Thomas, that would be so lovely,” you gushed. “You’re too kind.”

Thomas shrugged. “You’re my best mate’s girl,” he said. “I’m obligated to be kind to you.”

You chewed your bottom lip. “And what of your wife?” you asked. “Am I to meet her soon?”

Thomas came to a stop at the edge of the steps, casting a glance out at the carriage that rumbled closer. “I am unwedded,” he said. “Courtships have come and gone, but none have ever come to fruition. My father believes in me proposing rather than being forced into marriage, but I’ve never found a lady that I truly loved.”

Your carriage stopped before the two of you, and the Osterfield’s servant opened the door for you. “Miss Y/L/N,” he said, then turned his attention to Thomas, and he lowered his head in reverence. “Your Highness.”

“Your Highness?” you repeated, and your heart flipped in your chest. “But I thought that you were a duke?”

“My brothers are,” Thomas explained. “But, seeing as I’m the oldest and heir apparent, I get a different tile.”

“Your Highness, though?” you chuckled. “What are you, a prince?”

Your laughter died when you saw the stony look on Thomas’s face. “Yes,” he said. “Did Harrison not tell you?”

You shifted. No. Please, God, you pleaded. Don’t let it be true.

A smile played at Thomas’s face. “My lady,” he said. “I’m Thomas Stanley Holland. Prince Thomas of England.”

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland x reader #prince!tom holland

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canon-transgender-virgil · 3 years ago

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Check In (Intrulogical)

A/N: Finished this fic relatively quickly! It's a lot shorter than the Roceit one I posted earlier this week but it's still kinda a long fic lol!

Summary: Directly following the events of WTIT, Remus pops into Logan's room for what he claims is a quick chat, but that quickly grows into something more when the two actually get to talking.

Content Warnings: innuendos, swearing, intrusive thoughts, implied NS/FW (but nothing happens, dw), hurt-comfort

Logan had taken shelter in his room the moment Thomas got home from his outing with Nico. The logical side couldn’t stand to be around the other sides at the moment and he needed to sort out what was going on in his head.

The spectacled side took a deep breath and sat at his desk, staring at the wooden tabletop before slamming his fist down on it. “Fuck!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, infinitely thankful for the magic soundproofing around everyone’s rooms. What would the others think if they heard the rational, level headed (yeah right) Logic yelling expletives at random in his room?

He straightened his tie and glasses and got up, summoning a straw dummy labeled “Thomas”. He stood in front of it and glared at the doll, visibly angry, before he began ranting to it. He talked and talked, yelling at the dummy about how angry he was at being constantly ignored and pushed aside and made fun of, and if the familiar 10 notes announcing a certain Creativity’s presence hadn’t gotten his attention, he would have continued.

“My my Logan, you’ve got so much to say and no one to say it to, huh!” The moustached side raised an eyebrow, smirking at the nerd.

“...what do you want, Remus.” Logan’s words were curt, like he was trying to say just little enough to make the Dark Side leave.

“Gosh, I can’t just talk to a friend?-”

“We are not friends.”

“Ouch!” Remus pretended to be injured. “You’re so prickly, like a kinda sexy cactus! What’s up your ass today?”

Logan stopped and consulted his flashcards, hearing Remus snicker at this and trying to ignore the fact that his face was burning slightly. “Um… Ah.” He found the card he was looking for and examined it a little. “Nothing is ‘up my ass’ today, Remus. You know full well why I’m upset.”

“Uh huh, cuz I called you out on your lying ass.” He sounded irritatingly proud of that fact.

“Yes, well, you got what you wanted. Are you just here to rub it in my face?” Logan stared at Remus, though he noticeably avoided direct eye contact with the gremlin of a side.

Remus frowned. “No, actually.”

“Then you’re here to make me… feel… worse, correct?”

“Nope!” The green-sashed monster grinned.

“Then what do you possibly hope to gain from this interaction?” The blue tied Side frowned. Remus wasn’t here to bug him, or to upset him further? What reason, then, did he have to come to Logan’s room?

“It’s like I said earlier, I wanted to talk to you!”

“...what about?”

Remus shrugged. “I dunno! What do you wanna talk about?”

Logan blinked. “...excuse me?”

“Yeah! Let’s hear what you wanna talk about!” The Duke sat down on Logan’s bed and grinned up at him.

“...” The teacher was silent. “...you’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Remus blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I-?”

“Yes, I figured as much. Remus, I don’t have time for your games and if you’re simply going to make fun of me you can just-”

“Woah! Pump the brakes Lo, who said I was making fun of you?” The green side looked legitimately confused.

Logan crossed his arms. “Remus, statistically speaking, a total of… Zero sides share any of my interests. A total of three sides have shown aversion to or have mocked the things I consider interesting or enj- er, have a vague liking towards. Why should I believe you aren’t here to add to the latter set of data?”

“First of all, because I sat through that whole talk.” Remus joked. Seeing that Logan just rolled his eyes, he continued. “And secondly, because we also have some of the same interests! Your census of mockery only includes J-Anus, Emo Boy, Hop-Pop Patton and my dumbass brother!”

“Really? Then what are some of those shared interests, oh Duke of Imaginary Death?”

“That was terrible, one.” Remus held up his pointer finger. “And two, we both like chemistry, and poisoning, and astronomy-”

“Wait wait wait.” Logan held a hand up to silence Remus for a moment. “You… like astronomy?”

“Sure! What’s more existentially terrifying than imagining going hurtling right into the sun, or a black hole, or-” Remus’s eyes widened as he talked about the possibilities.

“Thank you, Remus.” Logic sighed. “But… why talk with… me?”

“Cuz… I kinda owe it to you? After being a dickhead all day?”

Logan blinked. “You didn’t have a phallus for a head today?-”

“Figure of speech, teach.” Remus explained curtly.

Logan ‘ah’d’ and nodded.

“And anyways… I wanted to apologize.”

That caused Logan to stop. “...you… wanted to apologize… to me?”

“Yeah, it’s weird for me too, but it’s true! I didn’t mean to make you so mad you - figuratively - blew up, I just wanted to prove a point.”

“I appreciate your use of the word figuratively Remus, and… thank you.”

“No problem!” Remus grinned and thought for a second. “So… wanna talk about forensics?”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Do I ever!-” He stopped. “Ah, uh, I mean… If you’d like to…?”

Remus giggled. “Cute! But you don’t have to hide that, not around me at least!”

“...thank you…” Logan smiled softly and the duke’s heart just about stopped.

“Uh, um… no problem Nerdy Wolverine.” Remus smiled weakly at the cute nerd.

The logical side rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Remus’s shoulder, which brought the moustached side’s attention to just how touch starved he was - a problem for another day, Mus.

“So what d'ya wanna talk about? Black lights, true crime?”

“Both interesting conversations, but… how about another topic you mentioned earlier?” Logan sounded timid, like he was scared Remus would stop listening if he dared to change the subject.

“Oh? What’d you have in mind?” The intrusive thot tilted his head at a sickening 180 degree angle, but that didn’t seem to bother Logan.

“You mentioned being fascinated by astrology as well. Would you like to talk about that?”

“Of course I would, my nerdy Astro-Boy Toy~” Remus laughed at his own nickname, to which Logan rolled his eyes again. “What about space, starlight?”

Logan’s smile grew ever so slightly, thankfully drawing Remus’s attention to that as opposed to his pink cheeks. “Well… let’s talk about constellations. You’re a storyteller of sorts, what’s your favorite constellation origin story?”

“Ooh, how fun!” Remus grinned. “Well, I personally love the story of Aquila, the king who got turned into a golden eagle messenger thing because Zeus got jealous of how much people liked him! You know, he’s the one who brought Zeus his cupbearer, Ganymede? That’s where the Aquarius constellation comes from! He was some Trojan prince, he ended up being the god of homosexual love! Historians think his name was a euphemism, since it’s a combination of the Greek words for ‘gladdening’ and ‘genitals’!”

Logan nodded and watched Remus explain the stories, smiling at how enthusiastically Remus shared the information. Remus noticed this and stopped. “Well, how ‘bout you, teach?”

“Huh?” Logan blinked, being pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Remus’s voice.

“You wanted to talk about constellations! What’s your favorite story?”

“Oh, um… I enjoy the story of Orion, the hunter who killed so many innocent creatures that Gaea sent a large scorpion to kill him and then put both of them in the stars for all eternity.”

“Huh! So that Scorpio constellation…?”

“Yes, that’s its origin story as well.” Logan smiled.

“Funny! I would never have guessed it!” That wasn’t true. Remus knew each and every constellation origin story like the back of his palm. He loved Greek mythology, but the only thing he loved more than that was seeing how Logan’s face lit up when he got to explain it. “Any other stories?”

The teacher blinked and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, um… I also enjoy the Cassiopeia story…”

The duke’s face brightened, eagerly awaiting Logan’s explanation. The spectacled astronomer’s face turned pink when he realized this, not sure what to do with this sort of attention.

“Well, Cassiopeia was a queen in Ancient Greece and she claimed to be the most beautiful thing in creation, which Posideon took personally since he had made what he considered to be the most beautiful creatures, and those were the sea nymphs. So Posideon sent Cetus, this giant sea monster, to torment the town, and he told the citizens that if they wanted him to get rid of the monster, Cassiopeia would have to apologize. She didn’t, so they asked if they could do anything else, and Posideon said if they sacrificed Cassiopeia’s daughter Andromeda to him that Cetus would go away, so the townspeople kidnapped her and brought her down to the pier. Poseidon didn’t like that, of course, since he was really just trying to get Cassiopeia to apologize and didn’t want some poor mortal’s blood on his hands so he let Perseus save her and kill Cetus.

“As punishment for almost letting her daughter die to save her own pride and for insulting the gods, they put her in the sky upside down on a chair to humiliate her for the rest of time.” Logan had gotten pretty excited while he explained the story, grinning widely as he finally finished it.

Remus was silent the entire time, watching how happily Logan told him a story he’d heard a million times before and thinking about how nice it was to be able to hear it from the nerd’s perspective.

Logan, finally remembering Remus was there, coughed softly and adjusted his tie, his smile fading. “Um, apologies, Remus. Thank you for letting me ramble.”

“Lo, you were telling a story! That’d be really dickish for someone to just cut you off during a story, you know?”

“I know, but I still appreciate it.” Logan yawned and Remus realized he looked tired, like the story had exhausted him.

“You wanna take a nap, teach?” The duke frowned and tilted his head.

“I… I have to finish up my work for the day…” The logical side moved his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“...Lo?”

“Yes…?”

“You had a long day. Yes it was cuz I was being a bitch, but still, you need to get some sleep. Or, y’know, I’m gonna be even more of a bitch to deal with!” Threatening intrusive thoughts usually worked to get Janus to go to bed when he refused to sleep, so he figured he’d try the technique out on Logan.

The nerd however simply shook his head and laughed softly. “I don’t think so, Remus. I can… I can handle you…”

“You couldn’t today, could you?” Remus accidentally blurted out before immediately covering his mouth. “Oh my god I didn’t mean that-”

“It’s fine, Remus.” Logan stated, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right. I couldn’t handle you today. But I really do have to finish working on this-”

“I’ll stay with you if you go to bed!” The duke once again blurted out. “Cuz I don’t think you’d wanna stay alone with Orange so close by, y’know? I can stay and like, fend him off!”

Logic blinked at the proposition and squinted. “...you… want to stay with me? Why are you so adamant about me getting proper sleep?”

“Well one, cuz it’s already 10:30 at night, and two, cuz… you know, I don’t wanna end up actually hurting you!”

That further surprised Logan. “You don’t want to end up hurting me? I was under the impression that that’s something you enjoyed.”

“Well…” Remus was hesitant to explain - that tipped Logan into the fact that it was probably something more than that.

“What’s really going on Remus?” The stern side crossed his arms and stared at the Creativity.

“...okay, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!” The duke stomped his foot and crossed his arms, looking away. “My nightmares have been getting worse and Janus is hanging out with Roman and Patton today and Virgil hates my guts so I figured I’d at least try to hang out with the one side that for some reason still tolerates my dumb ass!” He sounded a little hurt, and added, “Or, one that wouldn’t immediately kick me out or hit me with a broom at the mere sight of me.”

Logan blinked. “Nightmares? You suffer from nightmares?”

Remus sighed and tugged on his sash. “Yeah, they suck ass - not in a fun way - but it’s part of the job description, y’know?”

“I don’t. But… does this mean you also suffer from intrusive thoughts?”

“...yeah… They’re kinda the reason I came in here in the first place...”

The logical side sighed. “Remus, you could have told me sooner you just needed company. I’m not the best at keeping up conversation but I could have at least put on a movie for you to refocus on something other than your intrusive thoughts.”

The duke blinked. “You… you’re not gonna just kick me out?”

“Why would I? You’re in need of assistance and I’m going to provide it for you.” Logan got up and rummaged through his DVD stack. “What would you like to watch?”

Remus stretched and looked over. “Whatever ya want, Sub-astute but Super Cute Teacher.”

Both sides flushed red when they realized what Remus had said.

“...interesting nickname, Remus.” Logan gulped, looking down.

“Yeah, uh…” The duke laughed weakly. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the plastic bag it was choking in, huh?”

“What, that you think I’m cute?” The teacher looked over at the moustached Creativity. “You already called me sexy.”

“Well yeah, but that felt less… sappy, than calling you cute. And anyways, I meant that I was into you. Ooh, do you have Coraline?”

Logan stopped. “...repeat that, please?”

“The Coraline thing?-”

“The thing before the Coraline request.”

“Oh yeah, I like you.” Remus was right to the point, like always. “When I saw you take the shuriken to the face and just keep on moving right along… God, that was an image!” The duke gripped his thigh and shook his head, stopping himself from reaching down his pants.

“And you’re telling me this now… why?” The teacher was still reeling from the initial confession.

“We don’t get to talk one-on-one a lot! Plus, I don’t really like talking about cutesy emotions - that’s Roman’s department, y’know?”

Logan nodded slowly.

“Anyways, I changed my mind on the movie, can you put on Monster House?”

The spectacled side nodded and got the CD for Monster House, putting it in the DVD player and sitting next to the green-sashed side. He should have figured Remus wouldn’t be the type to linger on his feelings, and he was grateful for that at least. He couldn’t handle talking about feelings for long periods, especially not his own, but to have one of the most passionate sides just drop the fact that they liked him and immediately move on from that fact? It was odd. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Remus meanwhile was laying on the bed and watching the movie intently, smiling brightly at the screen before realizing that Logan had gotten into bed next to him. He turned over a little and growled “seductively” at the teacher, who laughed softly at the dark creativity. The sound caused butterflies to erupt in the duke’s stomach, flustering him a little. He smiled back at the logical side before returning his attention to the movie.

Logan meanwhile admired Remus, watching as he talked excitedly about the movie. He found it strangely endearing, how excitable Remus got when he was able to talk about things he found interesting. He didn’t have much time to think about it though, as he found himself falling asleep soon after the thought passed through his head. The astronerd yawned and passed out, sleeping peacefully next to the intrusive side.

The duke didn’t notice until he felt warm arms wrap around him. It startled the hell out of him, but he relaxed after he realized it was simply the sleeping teacher clinging to him. He carefully took Logan’s glasses off and turned off the TV before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

**The next morning**

Logan woke up first the following morning, still a little tired but feeling much better than he did the previous night. Vision blurry, the blind scholar felt around his nightstand for his glasses before realizing he was curled up into another person. He quickly got his specs on and saw the sleeping form of Remus below him, remembering that Remus had asked to stay with him the night before.

He looked at the sleeping creativity, who looked much more peaceful (and admittedly much cuter) asleep than he ever did awake. Still feeling somewhat tired, the Sherlock kinnie looked away and closed his eyes, feeling his face start to burn. When did he start thinking of Remus as “cute”?

Logan didn’t have too much time to dwell on it as he heard Remus start to stir. “Ugh… morning starshine…”

The teacher jumped and sighed. “Oh, good morning Remus. Did you sleep well?”

“Like an asphyxiated baby… you?” Remus groaned and stretched, waking up a bit more.

“I slept well too.” Logan fidgeted with his hands. The dark creativity, sensing the spectacled nerd’s unease, sat up and went to get off the bed. He was somewhat shocked to feel Logan tug on his sleeve. “Stay. I wanted to talk about what you said to me last night.”

“Oh… that.” Remus sighed and sat back on the bed. “What about it?”

“I… I’m not entirely sure what it feels like, but I think I reciprocate your feelings?”

Remus’s expression changed from slight concern to a poorly hidden malicious grin. “Oh? You’re into me?”

“I… think I am.” Logan nodded slightly.

The duke was silent for a moment before bursting into a grating cackle. “Oh- oh my god! Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me nerd!”

The scholarly side tensed up and blinked. “Excuse me?-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! What kind of goddamn loser are you, to think I - or anyone really - would like you?! Especially after the bullshit you pulled yesterday, like Jesus Christ you’re pathetic!”

Logan’s heart sank as he heard Remus say this. “So you were, what, mocking me?!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” The intrusive side cackled once again before morphing into a huge octopus-human hybrid monster and grabbing the teacher. “You’re so fucking stupid! What on Earth made you think someone like me would like someone like you?! You’re lucky any of the others even talk to you anymore!”

Logan panicked as the tentacles pulled him up to Remus’s razor sharp teeth, about to chomp down on his head, when-

“Lo! Logan, wake up!” The logical side heard Remus’s voice coming from somewhere it should not have been, and Logan woke up with a start. Remus frowned as the teacher practically flung himself away from him.

“Get away from me!” Logan’s voice sounded frantic and panicked, like a cornered animal.

“Woah, woah!” The creativity held his hands up in surrender. “Teach, it’s me!”

The teacher took a few deep breaths and grounded himself, looking around. “...right, right… Apologies, Remus…”

“No problem, Nerdy Wolverine. Now, care to tell me what happened?”

Logan sighed and moved over to Remus, explaining to him his nightmare, tentatively telling the nightmare inducing side that he’d tried professing his mutual love to the other before getting horrendously mocked and belittled.

“Sounds a lot like my Nightmare Nico scenario. Has this happened before?” Remus had managed to ignore his thundering heartbeat and the cheering going on in his head - Logan likes me back!! He could focus on that later. Right now, Logan needed his help.

“No. I don’t normally dream, period, so to get a nightmare is extremely unprecedented.”

“Huh… so, I’m the reason you had the nightmare?”

“That would be the logical conclusion, though I had assumed that your effects would be… muffled, in my room?”

“Maybe it’s a mix of psychological and my effect on you guys? Like you were stressed or anxious about last night so my ability to give people nightmares got amplified?”

Logan nodded. “Interesting hypothesis, and it’s… definitely possible. I apologize for yelling at you earlier.”

Remus shrugged. “Eh, it’s okay, I’ve heard worse.”

The nerd nodded and the two were silent for a moment before Remus sighed and asked what they were both thinking. “So. I like you, and you… apparently like me back? What does that make us?”

Logan hesitated. “I… I’m not sure. What would you like us to be?”

The duke grinned. “How about boyfriends?”

The scholar smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

Remus beamed brighter and moved a bit before stopping. “Can I kiss you?”

Once again mildly surprised by the other’s bluntness, Logan nodded and scooted closer to the dark creativity. Remus quickly pulled the former into a kiss.

Logan was the first to pull away, flushed red and smiling to himself. “I think I could get used to this.”

Remus grinned and took the scholar’s hand. “Me too, Lo. Me too.”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #intrulogical #ts logan #ts remus #tw innuendo mention #tw swearing #tw implied ns/fw (but nothing happens)#hurt comfort #long post #sanders sides fanfiction #lucifer writes

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wastelandcth · 3 years ago

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Father’s Day - cth

summary: calum celebrates another father’s day with his crazy family.

author’s notes: hello! welcome back to the doves! it’s been so much fun to be able to write them again, i missed them so much.

warnings: the doves are too cute for their own good.

masterlist || request || more doves

“Happy papa day!” Eloise squealed as she ran over to Calum, “I can’t believe you’re so old now, papa!”

“It’s not his birthday, Elly,” Charlie frowned, walking in after his four-year-old sister, “It’s just a day where we celebrate him!”

“Oh,” Eloise mumbled, looking up at her dad confused, “So you don’t have two birthdays?”

Calum chuckled, shaking his head and crouching down to pull his excited four-year-old into his arms. Eloise always loved special days like Mother’s Day, Valentine’s day, and as of recent, Father’s day. Ever since Dovey had mentioned what he’d wanted to do that day in front of the kids, Eloise hasn’t stopped asking about Calum’s special day and what he wanted to do. Every day at breakfast she’d ask Calum how many days were left until it was time to celebrate and every night when Calum was tucking her in she’d tell him about how excited she was for him. Calum, who would love every day trying to make sure his daughter always was as happy and excited for life as she’d been that day, couldn’t have asked for a better present than a whole day with his family.

“No, El,” Calum chuckled and shook his head, standing up and bouncing Eloise on his hip, “But it does mean that I get to chose what we do today!”

“What did you decide on, bub?” Dovey asked and smiled as she handed Charlie his water bottle, “Or is it a surprise like last year?” she smirked.

Calum had always gotten to pick what the family did on Father’s Day. His first holiday as a dad was spent pushing a seven-month-old in a stroller around the beach, not the brightest idea, but the sun was warm and baby Charlie had been giggly. The year before had been spent across the ocean and far from home, the Hood family hiding away in the privacy of a rental home in Sydney. Every year, Calum got to pick what he wanted to do with his family and this year had been no different. All he wanted to do was see the smile on his kids’ faces and the look of adoration on his wife’s face. The only reason he’d told Dovey his idea this time around was because they would need to pack for the kids and make sure they both had time off of work to do so.

“I was thinking we could go to the lake?” Calum grinned, looking as the two kids gasped and cheered.

They’d been to the lake plenty of times, enjoying the summer breeze and sun while the water outside the usual place they rented shone. It was the place where Calum had caught his first fish with Charlie, both of them too squeamish to do much about it besides throw it back into the water. He’d taken Dovey and Duke there years before their two kids had arrived, the snowy mountaintops hiding them away from the peering eyes of the world. And they’d even gone to the lake for Eloise’s second birthday, the giggling toddler splashing the day away by the shore as their friends and family enjoyed a barbecue in the April sunshine. Calum couldn’t think of a better place to spend a few days away, and maybe Father’s day was the perfect excuse to ditch town and hide away in their special cabin.

Dovey, who was the most amazing wife and Calum still wondered how he’d gotten so lucky, had already packed and stored their weekend bags away in the car. Her dramatic gasp and giggled that joined the children made Calum’s heart race and even if this day was all about him, he had her to thank for it. Without Dovey, he would’ve never become a father and would’ve never had two kids currently attached to his hip as he packed some snacks for their ride up to the lake. She’d changed his life the second she’d told him she was pregnant and ever since that moment, Calum Hood had never been happier to be alive. He was a father and that’s all that ever really mattered, sure he still loved the band and going out to create music, but being able to come home and see his kids was so much better. He was there for the food days where they’d both talks his ear off about school or something exciting they did with their mom and he was there for the bad days when stuffy noses and clogged ears meant he’d have one of them on his chest snoring the day away. He was a father and nothing would ever top that for him.

“Papa?” Charlie asked as he looked out at the passing scenery, “Is Duke my older brother?”

“What makes you say that, bud?” Calum asked with a chuckle, his eyes moving up to the rearview mirror to look at his son.

“Well mama always calls him your baby and he was here before me and Elly,” Charlie shrugged, patting the old dog’s head who was happily snoring away on his lap, “I think it’d be cool if he was my brother.”

“Well, then I guess he is, in a way, your brother.”

“Papa?”

“Yes, Eloise?”

“Is he my brother too?”

The questions continued for much of the journey up to the lake, each kid taking a turn to ask Calum a question and giggle at his response. That was one part of parenthood that Calum hadn’t realized would be his favorite. He rarely used to love answering questions, years of interviews with the same five questions being thrown at them making him numb, but his kids could ask him the same question all day long and he’d happily answer it to hear their giggles or the hum they gave as they thought it over. But as the sunshine high in the sky and the fresh air floated in through the open sunroof, the two kids quieted down until all they let out were quiet snores.

It wasn’t until the car pulled into the driveway of the familiar cabin that Calum had finally felt at ease. The past couple of months had been hectic and Calum was glad to finally let loose and not have to worry about anything but spending time with his family. He carried the two sleeping kids into the living room, laying them both down before helping Dovey with the bags from the car. The two of them unpacked and made a quick lunch for everyone while the kids napped and it wasn’t until the morning sun was high in the sky that they heard the snores fade and be replaced by giggles.

“Papa, can we color your hair?” Eloise asked excitedly, the toothy grin she gave Calum a weakness she knew and used often.

“What color are we thinking this time around, sweets?” Calum asked and chuckled as he helped the little one change into her favorite orange swimsuit, “Maybe pink again?”

“No! Charlie and I want green!”

“And yellow, papa!” Charlie nodded, his legs swinging off the side of the bed as Dovey slathered him with sunscreen, “And red like Uncle Ash!”

“Maybe once we get back home we can do that, yeah?” Calum chuckled and nodded, “It’ll look so cool!”

The rest of the day was spent with one another, with a lot of laughs and giggles from everyone. It was spent lounging by the lake and taking in the sun, making piles of sand into a tiny city while Eloise and Charlie fought over where the dog store would be. It was having a barbecue on the porch and drinking sweet lemonade while Calum told the kids the latest story in Luke’s new puppy adventures. If Calum could’ve imagined the perfect Father’s day, it would’ve been that day. All he needed was his wife, his two kids, Duke who’d been snoring inside all day, and the beautiful view of the lake from outside the living room. He’d been lounging on the couch, listening to Dovey retell the story of how she and Calum had met all those years ago to the two kids who’d hung on her every word.

“But now your papa and I have to clean up that bathroom that you all made a mess in,” Dovey teased, her eyes meeting Calum’s who only smirked, “Why don’t you two watch a movie with Duke, yeah?”

“Happy Father’s Day, Dove.” Dovey whispered and smiled, her lips pressing up against Calum’s as her arms pulled him in between her spread legs, “You’re an amazing daddy,” she teased.

“Yeah?” Calum chuckled and kissed her shoulder, her skin warm against his wandering lips, “Glad you think so, baby girl.”

“Mhm, of course, I do,” Dovey breathed out, her head tilting back as Calum’s lips traveled from her shoulder to her neck, “Maybe we should make you a father again.”

Calum chuckled softly and pulled Dovey’s hips closer to his, both of them groaning at the feeling of the other against them, “We both know that’s not happening anytime soon lovebug.”

“Ugh, yeah no, the thought of pushing another child out of me has me wanting to push you out of this bathroom,” Dovey teased and giggled as she squeezed Calum’s hips with her thighs.

“And on my special day?” Calum teased, smirking as his hands found their way up to the soft flesh on Dovey’s chest, giving them both a soft squeeze.

“Cal-“ Dovey whimpered out, groaning as she heard the inevitable sound of Eloise opening doors to look for them both, “She’s your kid,” she huffed and shook her head.

“Fuck, you stay right there and don’t move. I’ll be back soon.”

Soon, Dovey learned was pretty much never.

As she walked out of the bathroom, with the pit in her stomach still burning and her thighs squeezing together to find relief, she hasn’t expected to find Calum and their two kids snoring on the couch. The sun and the dip in the cool lake had tired them out and Dovey couldn’t help but snap a picture of her family. They were crazy and sometimes things got chaotic, tears were shed and giggles were echoed throughout a home they’d built. It was chaos and love and everything Dovey could ever ask for. She pulled a blanket over the three snoring bodies, each one mimicking the other’s squishy cheeks and drooling mouth before pressing a kiss to Calum’s forehead.

“Happy Father’s day, Thomas.”

taglist: @hoodhoran @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop @notinthesameguey @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @2fangirl4u @multistann @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood

#calum hood x reader #calum hood x you #calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #calum hood oneshots #calum hood #5sos x reader #5sos x you #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos fics #5sos oneshots #5sos #5 second of summer #gemma writes #the doves

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vizowrites · 3 years ago

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My BlitzStrike Twins: Headcanons and Shenanigans~ [probably with a bit of my M&M kids thrown in just for fun]

So today I got a couple of fantastic asks about Blitz and Striker as parents, and since there seemed to be a pretty positive response to them--and because @helluva-simp is amazing and encouraged me to be brave enough to write this up--I thought I’d go ahead and make a full post of my headcanons for these two little devils. I really do love the hell out of them and hope you guys enjoy hearing about them too!! <3 <3

Twist’s and Ty’s full names are Twister and Typhoon but literally nobody calls them by their full names ever so they like to make the joke of “the ‘-er’ and the ‘-phoon’ are silent”

Ty is actually the older of the two [though not by much] but everyone thinks that Twist is because his name is always called first. It’s always “Twist and Ty” [or just collectively “Twist-Ty”] instead of “Ty and Twist”. Ty honestly doesn’t mind that much as far as following after his brother goes, just don’t make the mistake of trying to label him as the younger of the two. There are a lot of things Ty’s perfectly content to let Twist take the lead in, but having the title of “the older twin” is just going too far.

Twist and Ty are mirror twins, meaning that they’re mostly identical except for a few key things: 1. Twist is left handed and Ty is right handed, 2. they both have heterochromia but Twist’s eyes are Left: Red | Right: Green-Gold whereas Ty’s eyes are Left: Green-Gold | Right: Red, 3. Twist has a birthmark on his right hand and Ty has his birthmark on his left hand--and yes when you put the two marks together, they form a design not unlike the heart shaped one on Blitz’s forehead :)

Both of the twins are incredibly agile, but Twist is faster and Ty is more flexible

Striker affectionately calls Twist “Whirlwind” because of said fastness

Blitz affectionately calls Ty “Noodle” because of said flexibility

.....Though it should be noted that it’s not all fun and games because Twist is CONSTANTLY crashing into things or tripping over his own two feet from going too fast, and Ty is so flexible that he’s able to contort himself into positions that honestly make both of his parents throw up a little in their mouths with the split-second panic of “OH GOD OUR BABY WAS BORN WITHOUT BONES!!” DX DX They’re both usually just fine tho!! :D

As noted in an earlier post--but I want to say it here too--Twist’s first word was “Bang!” and Ty’s first word was “Fuck!” Twist was the first one to talk, though, and it made Striker and Blitz second guess the context of his first word by the time Ty said his. XD

Another thing that was noted in another post but I want to put it here too is that Twist and Ty have incredibly high self esteem and both Striker and Blitz wouldn’t have it any other way

Twist is dyslexic and so gets easily frustrated when he has to read a book, but he love love LOVES the hell out of stories.....and so Ty is almost constantly making up random stories to tell him

This actually also works out well in Ty’s favor because Ty’s attention span is about as short as Blitz’s patience and he has a lot more fun telling stories than he does sitting still long enough to read the ones that other people made up unless it’s a book about something he’s reeeeeeally interested in

It’s also made Ty hella good at bullshitting on the fly, which I think most of the older/adult members of his family wish he was a lot less convincing at

Twist knows how to lie and is a natural at acting, but his flair for the over-dramatics tends to give him a way a lot easier than his twin

They both have what I’m calling a “hierarchy of obedience” within their family which really translates into a range of “eh I can think about maybe listening to this person sometimes” to “oh SHIT I need to listen to this person 5 fucking minutes ago”. For Twist, his hierarchy of obedience is: Millie --> Blitz --> Striker --> Loona --> Moxxie. For Ty, his hierarchy of obedience is: Loona --> Millie --> Blitz --> Striker.....and Moxxie doesn’t even make the list for him because honestly I’m pretty sure Ty just naturally tunes him out most of the time and not even fully on purpose. As he puts it: “You just have one of those voices”. XD

Ty can sleep literally anywhere and on anything. I’m pretty sure there have been mornings where Blitz and Striker have to play the game of 'Where the hell is my kid??' because they THOUGHT that he went to sleep in his bed like their other child did but NOPE they go into their room in the morning to get them out of bed and are just like, “.....Twist where the hell is your brother??” and Twist just gives an innocent shrug and says, “I don’t know--probably on the roof or something.” u3u and goes out into the kitchen to make himself breakfast--and then two seconds later Blitz and Striker hear him calling out “NEVER MIND! HE’S IN THE OVEN!!” and that starts off a whole new kind of panic because they know damn well that Twist’s favorite thing to have for breakfast is cinnamon rolls XD

Twist’s laughter is infectious--this really cute witch-like cackling that just bubbles out of him in the most adorably genuine way when he’s that delighted about someting

Ty does this adorable thing where--when he sticks his tongue out at someone--he flicks it in a very snake-like fashion and even gives the tiniest of hisses in lieu of a raspberry when he does it

Ty also manages to twist himself into the most uncomfortable-looking positions when he sleeps but rest assured, he’s never been more comfy

Twist’s tail never stays still. It is constaintly flicking to and fro, back and forth, swishing and swirling like a cat’s tail, and he loves flicking it in front of people’s faces to get their attention

Twist in general doesn’t really stay still very often but the one time he did was when Ty broke his arm--and then he spent almost every moment of the day and night plastered to his side because he knew it was driving Ty crazy not being as mobile as he usually is while having to wear a cast

The twins really don’t ever go that far apart from each other. If you look and only see the one, you can rest assured that the other one is around somewhere nearby and it’s probably not a good sign for you if you can only see the one.

Ty is much more of a biter when it comes to self-defense and Twist always goes straight to using his claws

Twist is the outwardly more protective twin and is vicious with his words when defending his brother. He will force every last ounce of moisture out of your body from how hard he makes you cry.

Ty, on the other hand, will fuck you up hard physically if you try to hurt his twin--and Lucifer himself would not be able to save you if you actually do hurt his twin

As they get older, and their sexualities and gender develop and grow, Twist would discover that he’s a nonbinary he/they homosexual panromantic and Ty would discover that he’s a genderfluid he/she pansexual homoromantic

The above being said, both Twist and Ty wholeheartedly say “fuck you and your gender norms” from a very young age and well into their teenage and adult years, with Twist enjoying painting his nails and Ty carrying all of his stuff around in a purse--and they both have a preference for wearing high heeled shoes [Ty because he just likes being tall in general and Twist because he likes being specifically taller than his parents because it drives them crazy XD]

Twist and Ty’s best friend is “Missi” [Moxxie and Millie’s eldest daughter, Missile] and she’s honestly an absolute hero for putting up with as many of their shenanigans as she does

Whenever they go out on family outings, Twist is that kid who just NEVER wants to leave--and so Blitz usually, after spending ten minutes of trying to get him in the damn van and Striker even using his Dad Tone (TM) and that not working, will just be like, “Alright kiddo, I tried playing nice. You asked for this.” And he puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles with a, “Loona Sweetie? Fetch.” >3 And Loona gets the BIGGEST grin on her face and Twist gets the biggest “oh shit I’m so fucking screwed” look on his face and Ty--who’s honestly probably very awkwardly coiled up in Striker’s arms because after a long day of family fun he’s tired af and decided that he doesn’t want to use his limbs anymore--just kind of looks over at his twin and says, “I believe in you, but also maybe try to run faster than last time” u3u

I think that they would both love their Auntie Barbie a lot and she would have soooooooo much fun teaching them different circus tricks--especially how to yeet each other back and forth on the trapeze XD

I also think that their Auntie Barbie would really love just how close they are.....and probably inspire her to make up for lost time in her relationship with her own twin too

For some reason I can’t shake the thought of the twins being great at acapella and I have no idea why but I’m also ttly here for it XD

In school, I feel like Twist’s favorite class would be Art [he loves to paint and happily makes all kinds of messes with his “expressing creativity”] and Ty’s favorite class would be P.E./Gym [because he loves testing the limits of his physical body]

Family game nights are always fun in their household because usually what happens is Twist and Ty team up against Blitz and Striker, and while they’re in the middle of duking it out, Loona ends up getting a monopoly on every street and is just like, “Pay up fuckers.” u3u

Moxxie and Millie both love and hate babysitting for the twins because on the one hand, they love them to pieces and love seeing how well they get along with their three kids, but on the other hand.....the twins keep finding Millie’s strap on and putting it on their middle child [Mark]’s head and calling him a “cockicorn” XD

Ty’s favorite food is ramen noodles and Twist spent three weeks [and probably set their kitchen on fire at least twice] learning how to make them with JUST the right flavor profile that he knows his brother likes the best

While I think both of the twins know that they can talk to their dads about anything, I think that they still keep their most personal thoughts reserved only to themselves and each other

Twist’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the flashy ‘sharp and pointy’ kind whereas Ty’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the aggressive ‘point and shoot’ kind. However I honestly kind of think that in terms of what they’d use themselves in the field, Twist’s primary weapon of choice would be a whip [though he would definitely have some throwing knives and handheld revolvers in his back pocket too] and Ty’s primary weapon of choice is honestly poisons. Assume that everything this kid has that he throws at you--be it a knife or a bullet or even a fucking cannonball--is poisoned somehow.

They both definitely play wrestle like Blitz and Barbie did as kids.....and just like Blitz and Barbie, they also get their horns tangled together more than once and need to have someone come rescue them. There’s almost always a photo taken that gets posted to Voxtigram first tho. XD

There are plenty more headcanons where this came from but I feel like this is already waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too fucking long so I’m going to go ahead and stop here for tonight!! If you guys are interested in hearing more about these two, please please please feel free to let me know and I’d be happy to write up a Part 2 to this, or just overall write up a quick little oneshot with them in it, or if you want to send me specific questions about them that I can answer, feel free to do so!! Thanks so much again and I hope you guys have as much fun reading these as I did writing them up!! <3 <3

#vizowritesheadcanons #BlitzStrike twins #ocs: Twist and Ty #BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Helluva Boss AU where Blitz and Striker are parents #I.M.P. family fun #kid AU

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awigglycultist · 3 years ago

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Okay hatchetfield zombie apocalypse au bc why not ("but tgwdlm is a zombie apocalypse" shh no that's an alien musical apotheosis and also this is won't be the exact same as tgwdlm)

This ended up being way longer than I thought it would and also kinda ramblely (is that a word??) oops. So read the rest under the cut

Okay this takes place in 2019

Emma and Paul are together, emam ofc suggests they going to her cooky reclusive biology professor

This isn't the apocalypse Henry excepted and he doesn't like that, but hey he still prepped for an apocalypse so he's safe

Since this isn't a musical apocalypse and it'd probably be pretty hard to get money off of someone during a zombie apocalypse, so he's currently not trying to murder anyone

He let's Emma and Paul stay with him

But then Emma is like "hey you have room do you think my nephew, brother in law and his gf could stay with us? The gf's a nurse she could be helpful!!"

He eventually agrees

Then Paul's like "hey my coworkers are kid dumb asses there's know way they're surviving an apocalypse on their own can they stay with us? And also one of them has daughter and the other has a little brother (cough cough HCB) them too?"

And then Hidgens ends up agreeing to that, and then Alice and HCB are ofc both like "wait hold on our friends-" (ie: Deb, Ziggs, Grace Chasity (this would be HCB's friends not Alice's ofc), Cineplex kid (because I said so) Ethan (also Tony, my beloved) Lex and Hannah (once again, because I said so, do we seem them interact? No, but they're friends now)

And Hidgens at this point is like "well fucking fine I guess so! Bring em here we have a bunch of ppl already so why not!!"

All of these people, living under one roof (albeit a very big roof) is ofc chaos!

I'd imagine ppl kinda stay in groups a bit tho. Like the teens stay with each other for the most part. CCRP gang hangs out together most. Ect.

Still, very chaotic. The teens (really mostly Deb, Ethan and Lex) causing plenty of trouble. The adults all being dumb asses. Plenty of arguments between Bill and Ted ofc. And probably several arguments between the nerdy prudes (grace, hcb and cineplex) and the other teens. Probably one fight between Alice and Ziggs but it gets settled quickly and they figure everything out and clear the air and become good friends.

I mean you think this amount of ppl, particularly this certain group of ppl, are going to be well organized durning the apocalypse? Hell no!

Hidgens is the only one that actually understands shit about apocalypse, he's the one who prepared! (once again: although for the wrong one) so he's constantly having to be like "no we can't do that that's dangerous!!" Emma, Alice and Lex are the only other really competent ones.

Hidgens ofc spends his time trying to find a cure, Emma helps him. If life ever goes back to normal she has an automatic A in his class for the rest of college just for going through this shit and helping him.

Tom, Bill, and Tony are the dads. They're obviously dealing with the kids. But the do mainly try and focus on their own kid because... That their kid ofc they care about them the most. But they try to take care of the other kids too.

Bill has a rough time connecting with anyone besides Alice. But Grace was always nice to him church so there's that. And ofc Alice has gf, a gf he doesn't like a ton but now he's very much stuck with so he might as well try and get along with. They eventually do.

Tom ofc like I said cares most about Tim. But after him the next he cares most about are CaliforMIA gang. Lex and Ethan were his students (I know it's not confirmed that Ethan was one of students but he is now bc I want him to be), probably his favorite students, and that Lex's little sister who's only a few years older than Tim, ofc he's also gonna care a lot about them.

Tony also cares alot about Lex and Hannah, that's his son's gf and her little sister, once again, ofc he'll care about them alot too.

Becky absolutely cares about all the kids a ton!! She's a nurse who works with kids, she's very nurturing and mother like. She cares for and about them all fairly equally but Tim is her favorite because... Well that's her bf's son and she's known him the longest out of any of the kids ofc. Lex and Hannah end up loving Becky alot because she's so much kinder and sweet than their biological mother.

Before the apocalypse Ted took care of HCB, now he's still taking care of him ofc. Ted doesn't want to be taking care of any of the kids besides his brother. He wants to drink and party and stuff. I mean it's the apocalypse so why not? But he ends up taking care of Grace and Cineplex quite a bit too. This happens not bc others aren't taking care of them, they are being taken by the other plenty well (like I said the dads and Becky all care for all the kids they just have favorites) but because they see HCB going to Ted for almost everything and Ted doing stuff for/helping out HCB so they're like "well okay guess we'll go to him too" He's not happy about it. He already has to deal with his obnoxious little nerdy prude bother and now there's two more? But part of them reminds him a lot of himself when he was younger. Maybe that's why he doesn't like them, or also maybe that's why secretly likes them a ton?

Hidgens, Emma, Ted, Tom and Lex are the ones that go out most often because they're the only who are really able to fight off the zombies and stay safe a stuff (okay Ted not so much as the others but they bring him anwyay cause Henry's like "he looks like he can use gun or something" and Emma, Paul, Bill and Charlotte are all like "this is a horrible idea don't bring him" but they do anwyay. He doesn't kill any of the others so hey why not keep bringing him? Besides if something goes wrong they can use him as bait or throw him to the zombies to get them off the rest of the group /hj)

Other ppl in Hatchetfield exist of course and are out they're trying to survive. Sam and Pamela are some of the first to die that's karma bitch

Lex and Hannah were living with Pamela ofc when the apocalypse hit, the girls wanted to go somewhere safer but Pam wouldn't let them, then one day she went out and got turned into a Zombie, the girls quickly took that as their chance to escape and they went to Tony and Ethan and then ofc ended up at Hidgens'

Charlotte was with Sam before he turned into a Zombie and then when he did she ran to Ted & HCB and stayed with them before they ended up at Hidgens'

Gary and MIAH are together and trying to survive on they're own. Sylvia, Melissa, and Greenpeace Girl end up meeting each other and decide to gang up together and they're badasses. Dan and Donna are two focused on the news and finding out if Peanuts is surving (which yes, Peanuts, (as well as Papa Ed.. At least for a while) are doing fine) and they die pretty quickly. Holloway and Duke are doing great, Holloway's a witch so yeah she's good and ofc Duke is with her so he's good too.

Lucy is in Hatchetfield and she's already in the woods vibing with Chumby before the apocalypse hits (THAM doesn't happen in this universe and instead Lucy ends up finding Chumby own her own because uh??? Reasons??? Idk bc I said so) the two of them have no idea there's a zombie apocalypse. The Paul clones take this apocalypse as they're chance to escape, Paul23 leading the uprising ofc, they don't kill Paul and take his place tho, instead it's more like "there's a zombie apocalypse? Oh fuck yeah!" *escapes* "oh theres a zombie apocalypse oh no-" some try to stay in a group and live together, some try to go out their own. There's now a bunch of random Pauls and Paul zombies around town. The main gang do end up seeing the clones and they're all just kind like "uhhh wtf???" except Paul, he's absolutely freaking out, the clones kinda are just "uhh haha how do we explain this".

Spoiler alert: the world isn't destroyed. How? Not totally sure yet but probably through Hidgens managing to find a cure and time travel. Emdriod has traveled back in time to replace Emma, but oopsie she didn't travel back far enough so she can't kill Emma in Guatemala, so she goes to Hatchetfield in hopes she can kill Emma when no ones looking and just replace her then, but oh no there's apocalypse so thats a much bigger issue. She survives easily, she's strong af, doesn't need food, all that jazz. She and Emma do meet each other and it's another "wtf?" "how do I explain this?" situation. But Emdriod lies ofc and kinda explains what happened but said that she accidentally time travelled and leaves out the whole wanted to kill her part. Now the Emdriod has found Emma she does try to kill her, that's awfully hard to do tho considering Emma is literally always with a group of people, and Emdriod doesn't want to just kill Emma right in front of everyone bc then they'll all hate her and her goal isn't to just kill Emma it's too replace her. She end up giving up and she runs into Paul 23 and they bond of my doubles of someone and wanted to kill that somoen at first and then fall in love and kill zombies together :)

Ohh uhh other ships: Paulkins, Lexthan, Barneston, Potseed (Alice x Deb) ofc. Charted, Obnoxious Teens (HCB x Cineplex Kid) oh and ofc Holloduke. Uhh Bill x being okay for once, Ted x probably not dying for once (not too sure about that one yet) Hidgens x not actually trying to murder someone for once

Wait wait I just got idea: the zombie apocalypse occurs BECAUSE of Hidgens, he tries too bring back the working boys (remember his original backstory with accidentally killing them and stuff??)

Okay I think that's all I got for now

#starkid #hatchetfield #tgwdlm #black friday #nightmare time

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maboroshi-no · 3 years ago

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Hamefura LN11 Moments: AlanxKatarina

While reading Hamefura Light Novel Volume 11, I wrote some summary / quick translations of some moments.

Here is the AlanxKatarina moment in the book.

Context:

Katarina had met the King the day before. She told Geordo and Alan she doesn’t think of them differently even after hearing what their relatives did

Katarina has decided to study love so that she can face her feelings, Geordo’s and Keith’s

Katarina is now more proactive regarding the measures against her doom

Katarina has decided to go to the castle’s library during her day off, hoping she will find another memo containing hints regarding FL2 in a book

Katarina’s POV

Katarina meets Alan at the library.

Katarina: "Ah, Prince Alan!"

Alan: "Oh, it's you, Katarina. So you came to the castle today, huh. What did you come for?"

Katarina: "I am off from work today, so I have come to the library to do some research."

Alan: "You've come to the library during your day off to do some research? You?!"

Alan is making a mocking face.

Katarina: "How rude, Prince Alan! Even I can come during a day off to do some research (starting today)!

Katarina pouts, inflating her cheeks. Alan is not making a mocking face anymore.

Alan: "Oh well, do your best and try not to fall asleep, okay?"

Katarina is thinking to herself that Alan may look like a grown adult, but inside he's still the same as when they were kids.

Katarina: "Mean Bossy Brat."

Katarina mutters to herself. Alan heard her.

Alan: "What did you say?"

Katarina: "It's not like it was hard to understand."

Alan: "You were insulting me, weren't you?"

Katarina: "If you know, then don't ask!"

Alan: "What's with you, stupid duke's daughter?"

Katarina: "And now you're insulting me?"

Alan: "Weren't you the one who started it?"

Katarina: "YOU started it by making fun of me!"

Alan: "I was just telling the truth!"

Katarina: "What did you say?"

They argue back and forth for a while and then Alan bursts out laughing.

Katarina : "?"

Katarina is blank.

Alan: "No, it's just that it has been a while since we had that kind of exchange, so I thought it was funny."

Hearing Alan say this with an innocent smile, Katarina was taken aback and thought it was indeed funny, and then laughed with Alan.

Katarina: "That's right. When we were little, we would often butt heads like this."

Alan: "Ah~ Yeah, kinda. For all kinds of things."

//TN: starting here, I switched the narration to Katarina’s POV

Alan looked embarrassed saying this. At first, when I met him, Alan had a strong inferiority complex towards Geordo, and was stormy. He has completely calmed now. This fight just now feels so nostalgic. As I was remembering the past,

Alan: "I am sorry for all I did in the past. Butting heads with you for whatever.".

He said.

Katarina: "Eh?! After all this time?!"

I opened my eyes wide from getting apologies more than 10 years later.

Alan: "Yeah, it is late but it's just that I remembered I never apologized, that's all."

He said this, looking embarrassed, and continued with

Alan: "I am sorry, and thank you."

As I got confused again from being thanked this time, he laughed at me again and I couldn't ask him why. Alan is laughing a lot today. Ah, that's right. I guess I'll ask Alan.

Katarina: "Prince Alan, do you know about love?"

Sora told me that even if I asked people about love, I won't fall in love myself, but... If I ask various kinds of things, maybe when I have this kind of feeling I'll be able to realize it more quickly. So there isn't anything to lose. However, Alan and Mary are only engaged for political reasons and they don't give off a lovey-dovey air. Besides, Alan is especially childish so even if I ask, I don't think he would know. He is probably like me, a fellow member of the "I don't know what love is" club, but

Alan: "Wh- What are you saying suddenly?"

Alan was bright red and shaking.

Katarina: "Eh?! No way! You know?!"

I raised my voice in surprise as I thought he would say "I don't really know". While I saw them as a boss and her underling, there was love developing between the two of them.

Alan: "What do you mean 'No way?!'? I have been an adult for several years already... So of course I would know that much..."

Alan said with a red face.

Alan: "What about you? Do you?"

He asked me in return.

Katarina: "Eh, Me?! Well.. I..."

If I told him I didn't, he would probably make fun of me, and since I couldn't reply right away...

Alan: "I bet a kid like you wouldn't, right?"

I knew he would make fun of me. I got so upset I felt like matching his words.

Katarina: "Of course I know that much."

I replied in a somewhat pretentious way. As I did, Alan's eyes grew wide, and

Alan: "...So you do, huh? And who is the one you love?"

Alan had an unusually serious face.

Katarina: "Eh?! Well, he is..."

I didn't think that far, and since I couldn't answer...

Alan: "Could it be Geordo? So in the end, you..."

Because Alan continued the conversation with a serious tone, I couldn't keep up with it, so I immediately threw away my pretense.

Katarina: "I'm sorry. I lied when I said I knew. I was just putting on airs. Actually, I don't know anything about it."

As I replied honestly, Alan felt somewhat relieved. Eh? Could it be that Alan was also putting on airs when he said he knew? As I thought, could he be a fellow member of the "I don't know what love is" club?

Alan: "Oh, I see! So you still don't know!"

As he said this, Alan vigorously ruffled my hair. It feels like I am being treated like a kid.

Alan: "Oh well, I guess you wouldn't. Makes sense."

Alan is nodding to himself. It feels like he is making fun of me again. And he also looks extremely happy for some reason. I thought I would ask him if he really is a fellow member of the "I don't know what love is" club, but Alan who was now in high spirits said

Alan: "Well then, I have some official business to attend, so I'll see you later. Good luck with your studies at the library!"

As he said, he stroked my head again before going off happily. Jeez, it's not studying, it's research. In the end, I couldn't hear from Alan anything useful about love.

Alan's POV:

I, Alan Stuart, am on my way to attend an official business, in a very good mood. Earlier, my mood sank to the very depth for a moment, but after I realized it was a misunderstanding, my mood then reached new heights. Just thinking I could see her 2 days in a row makes me happy. Yesterday, when I heard from Father that he would talk to Katarina and Maria about the unsightly past of the royal family, I felt dizzy. It's because I felt anxious thinking that after hearing the story, Katarina might look at us with eyes full of contempt. The time during which Father was talking to them felt incredibly long and just imagining Katarina telling us "I don't want to see you ever again" was the worst feeling ever. But when we asked her directly she told us while staring right into our eyes "The royals who took part in this struggle are different people to begin with. My opinion of the two of you cannot possibly change after hearing this story. Besides I know very well each of your personalities.". Looking at her dignified appearance, I fell for her all over again. However, when I looked at my side, Geordo was looking at her so lovingly. I averted my eyes right away. That's right. Katarina is Geordo's fiancée. And afterwards, when I saw her being escorted by Geordo, I suppressed my feelings somehow. Why did I have to fall for my older brother's fiancée, a woman I absolutely must never fall for? And when I think of looking elsewhere, there is no other woman like Katarina, and as a result I can't stop my feelings for her. Mary, my fiancée who, like me, has fallen for someone who won't return her feelings told me "Even so, I can't simply give up". But I can't do the same. Geordo and Katarina will get married eventually. I know I have to give up. But it's just that, while it is a well-known fact that Geordo loves Katarina, I know that Katarina herself does not have such feelings for him. No matter how much time passes, childish Katarina won't have such feelings. So just like that, I have been feeling at ease. So when Katarina asked me "Do you have someone you love?", I ended up shaking fiercely. But then, when I realized my misunderstanding, learning that Katarina was actually still not in love, I felt incredibly happy. I know someday I will have no choice but to give up. But I can't help wishing I could stay like this just a little longer. I kissed the hand where the sensation of her soft hair remained, and continued on my way with light steps.

#hamefura #my next life as a villainess: all routes leads to doom #bakarina #katarina claes #alan stuart

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lady-griffin · 5 years ago

Note

You that while Catarina's logic is wrong, it's not unsound?

Basically, yeah!

That’s one of the reasons why she is such an appealing character. There is a rationale to her madness or, I guess, her density.

While Katarina often comes to the wrong conclusion or misses the point entirely, her thinking is decently logical (at times).

She knows about these secret, invisible mechanics of her world and, technically, she has seen the future or at least one version of the future.

Katarina Being Exiled

Even though she’s the daughter of a Duke, it’s not impossible for her to be exiled.

Despite everyone else seeing it as completely impossible and ridiculous because of her social status, we and Katarina know that it is a possibility, even if small.

So, her preparing for that possible future is a sound strategy.

Katarina’s problem is that she’s so hyper-focus on what she knows from the game, that she completely ignores all the reasons why she wouldn’t be exiled.

- Geordo and Keith would never push for her to be exiled. Even IF they did fall in love with someone else.

- Two Princes and the two children of the Prime Minister are in love with her.

- If she were to be exiled, I guarantee you, either Keith or Mary would be on that boat with her - at the very least.

- People believe Katarina is a good person, because she has consistently shown she is one, by being a good person.

- She hasn’t even come close to doing a criminal act severe enough for such a harsh sentencing.

Etc.

But even with all that, we can still understand where Katarina is coming from.

For all she knows, maybe the mechanics of the game are hard and set rules of her world and the game events will always come to pass in one form or another, no matter what.

I mean, how many stories are there where the person tries to avoid their fate, but ends up causing it, because they were trying to avoid said fate. And Katarina, does base a decent amount of her thinking on stories.

To be fair to Katarina, a lot of the game’s events have come to pass, despite Katarina changing things over the past seven years.

- Geordo meets Maria when she gets lost on campus.

- Keith’s first meeting with Maria does involve a handkerchief.

- Geordo, Maria and Alan are respectively #1, #2, #3 in the class rankings.

- All of her friends are on the student council.

- Even though Katarina is not doing the bullying herself, Maria is still being bullied in the exact same way (place/time) she was in the game.

And so on.

Her logic is not unfounded, so to speak. It’s just that Katarina is just always coming to the wrong conclusion.

She consistently puts more weight on the similarities between her life and the game, rather than all the differences.

Yes, Geordo met Maria in the same way he did in the game.

BUT, Geordo clearly didn’t think much about the encounter, because he’s in love with Katarina. It was just a simple interaction for him, that had no real or profound bearing on his life. Same for Keith.

However, Katarina is so panicked by said encounter (and what it could mean for her), that she completely ignores what Geordo is actually saying in that moment.

Also, even if Geordo or Keith did fall in love with Maria, they would still care about Katarina and not want anything bad to happen to her, especially not from their own hands

Katarina is beyond dense and oblivious.100%. Absolutely. No doubt.

But the information that she has and her own rationale does give credence to her actions and thought process.

Which for me, is such a great aspect of the story.

Sorry, that was probably a lot longer than what you wanted.

But that juxtaposition is such an underrated aspect in my opinion and I’ve been wanting to talk about it.

It could easily have been badly done, but the story just nails it. Which just adds to Katarina’s appeal and loveliness.

Yes, Katarina’s logic is wrong or at very least the conclusions she comes to are wrong, but her logic is not unsound – given what she does in fact know.

#Hamefura #Otome Game No Hametsu Flag #Bakarina #Katarina Claes #Destruction flag otome #Geordo Stuart #Keith Claes #Gerald Stuart #Anonymous

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

Text

Moirai [6]

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

➜ Words: 2.9k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

What the fuck. Those three words encircle your brain as you’re drowned in darkness, body jolting while the wagon shakes violently down the rickety path full of rocks and holes. Bounded and blindfolded, you shift around until you can feel the wall and you use the remaining strength in your body to sit upright. Whoever kidnapped you clearly wasn’t the brightest when they decided to tie your wrists together in front of you. With just a bend of your elbows, you’re able to tear the blindfold off of your eyes and spit out the cloth in your mouth. It takes a second for your vision to focus. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but you’re able to make out the wooden walls around you and the hay underneath your form. You figure out that you’re in the back of a windowless wagon, heading to god knows where. You can’t believe this. You can’t begin to fathom how something like this could happen. But there’s no point in banging your head on the ground and screaming. You struggle with the tight ropes tied around your wrists and ankles, jaw clenching as it burns into your skin further. It seems like they coiled it around your limbs a hundred times and each moment your fingertips can graze one of the many knots, your fingers become more numb. But you don’t want to admit that your attempt is futile. That every movement only exacerbates the pain. You don’t want to acknowledge that your effort is only making it harder for yourself. “Fuck!” The wheel of the wagon crashes through a rock. The entire wagon angrily tilts. You slam back onto the hard ground. Tears sting your eyes and you grit your teeth. In the original game, it was the heroine who was kidnapped. It was a scheme set up by Anastasia. But it’s obvious that you’ve taken her place, that a mistake was made, based on the threat they muttered to you. You don’t know who could’ve done this, who would have such animosity towards her. But you suspect it’s your own parents. If so, it’s a great irony that their own daughter got kidnapped instead. Karma’s a bitch. You just don’t know why you have to suffer the consequences for it. “This gold’ll last me a lifetime!” there’s muffled voices through the other end of the wagon, no doubt the perpetrators on the other side. “And she’ll sell for a pretty penny!” Chortling laughter grates against your ears. You remember it was also in the original game that the heroine was rescued by whoever her love interest is. But you don’t have a love interest. Most certainly Jungkook won’t be the hero and save you, not when Lucy reassured him that you chose to head to your bedroom early. No one’s coming for you. No one. Inside the wagon, you are an island. Or rather, it has always been that way. From the very start, you have been alone. Deserted. Fighting for yourself and fighting to survive the next day. You are a villainess self-turned into a side character without a redemption arc or a beautiful story. Not only are you weighed down with your burdens, but you bear them by yourself. Tears bite at your eyes, the temptation to succumb to your despair overwhelming. But before the thick darkness can consume you whole, you force yourself upwards once more. Once more, you gain your balance. Once more, you attempt to undo your binds. Once more. And by your teeth biting into the rope, you manage to pull at a loose knot. Then, one by one, it starts to untangle, rope plunging downwards, and you yank your hands free. Your wrists burn, rough to the touch. But you don’t dwell when you begin to frantically unravel the binds around your ankle. You rush towards the door once you’re free and throw them open. The wagon is rapidly moving, the horses attached are practically sprinting through the open forest. Every pebble in sight only lasts for a second before it’s gone in the distance. You grasp onto the edge, knowing you need to jump. You need to. You— Can’t. At that exact same moment, the left wheel is knocked into a hole in the dirt road. The wagon jolts violently again and you accidentally stumble forward with a sharp inhale. You brace yourself, eyes shut tight, ready to collide with the ground. But the impact never comes. Instead, you open your eyes to find brown irises gazing into yours. “I’m so glad I came in time.” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth upturns. He’s out of breath, levitating in mid-air with you in his arms. You grasp onto him with tight fists, still shaking. The footman in front notices the noises, slows down and peeks over the wagon. “Hey!” Taehyung sets you down on the ground. “Don’t look,” he says in a low timbre as if asking you to promise him. You swallow hard and shut your eyes tight. Taehyung brushes past you. You hear the footman and another yelling. And then they’re apologizing. There’s the crunch of leaves, a shout, a crack of bones that startles you, and thunder booming in the distance. “Who did this?!” Taehyung’s ear splitting voice makes you flinch. You’ve never witnessed him this angry before. “Was it the King?! It was him, wasn’t it?!” You turn around with your head down. You run towards him. There’s blood seeping through the dirt on the ground, but you don’t give it attention to it as you grab a hold of Taehyung’s arm. “Stop it.” There’s a long pause and you repeat yourself. “Stop.” A body drops in front of you and when you lift your eyes, Taehyung engulfs you in a hug. You’re overtaken by his frame, his warmth keeping the cold away and for once, you give into the temptation. Your lashes flutter as your eyes close and you hug him back. You allow yourself to savour the moment. // The palace awakens past midnight. Barely after the feast has come to a halt, a guard with his sword by his side enters the throne room and strides down the aisle towards the King who was entertaining guests a minute ago. “Your Majesty.” The guard bows. “Prince Taehyung is missing.” “What?” A fist slams down on the armrest. The King’s face is reddened, wrinkles deepening as he scours his mind at where that boy could be, what he could be scheming. “Does anyone know?” “No, Your Majesty. A guard of the Western tower found him missing and reported it. Only the guards and a few maids are aware.” “Then search immediately! Report what you find!” Several guards respond and rush out of the room. At the same time, a maid stands at the doorway with her eyes wide in fear. She hesitates, then cuts through the crowd in the opposite direction, fighting against the current of men. “Y-Your Majesty.” She bows her head at the end of the steps leading up to the throne. “What is it?” “Lady….Lady Anastasia is missing as well.” The King is taken aback, not sure how the castle can be so chaotic at this hour, how it can spiral out of control so quickly after the festivities. He deems himself negligent. “Have you searched the rooms?” She nods. “We’ve looked everywhere, Your Majesty. No one’s seen her ladyship since the feast.” The King sits back, brows furrowed deep enough to hurt. It can’t be a coincidenc— A guard swiftly enters the room. “Your Majesty, they’ve returned.” There are whispers throughout the palace. Those who are still awake at this hour murmur under their breaths, taking second glances, knights and maids, servants and guards alike. They speak of rumours that are sure to be spread when morning comes. But the two of you don’t pay mind. Taehyung’s cape is wrapped around your shoulders, you squeeze his hand and approach together. You don’t know why you thought this would be simple. That you could just slip into your room, into bed and try to stop shaking by yourself. You were gone for far too long to do such a thing. There are too many eyes around, too many who notice when a single hair is amiss. The moment you came back, they told you to meet the King. “What is the reason for your absence?” His eyes scrutinize the both of you as if you were on a scandalous endeavour — the Prince’s fiancée and the bastard son, a pair that would sure ruin the reputation of the entire empire. You don’t even have time to think how far you’re deviating from the original story. “Your Majesty, I was kidnapped,�� you confess in a loud voice and the maid standing by gasps. She covers her mouth abruptly the moment it happens and retreats into the side. The King’s eyes dart to her and heavy silence boils throughout the room. You look at the man beside you, his fingers still twined through yours for reasons you’re not sure you want to divulge. “It was His Highness Taehyung who noticed something suspicious and came to rescue me. The perpetrators ran, but I’m safe thanks to him.” You can tell the few people in the room are surprised Taehyung has the capabilities to save you. And that he did. A courageous act that is sure to gain reward. The King makes a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat. “I will find the people responsible for daring to threaten the next Crown Princess.” As if the throne hall was not full of nosy people already, the Duke and Duchess enter with frenzied expressions. It’s unsettling to see them feigning concern. If anything, you’re guessing they’re simmering with anger that their men captured the wrong girl. But it still doesn’t stop your mother from coming to look at you, grasping onto your arm while your father addresses the King, “Your Majesty. We heard the news a moment ago and—” “No need for the formalities, Herrick.” He smiles cordially. “You should take your daughter to rest. We can discuss this matter at a better hour.” He nods and they both usher you out with a parade of servants. But you don’t miss the chance to peek over at your shoulder to look at Taehyung’s form until you have to turn the corner. You stay silent as you lead them into your room. The doors shut, servants outside for the time being and you turn to face your parents. “You did this….didn’t you?” Your mother’s expression is cold and impassive. “Excuse me?” “Can’t you be honest with me?” you plead from them, desperation leaking into your tone. You ache for their sincerity, for their compassion. “I know they captured the wrong person and I know the only people who would want to harm the baron’s daughter are the both of you. You probably thought she was in my way—” “You’re tired, Anastasia.” Your mother waves you off. “You should rest.” “What happens if the King investigates and this leads back to the Devereux house?” Your voice never wavers, feet rooted into the ground. You know they’ll make sure it never traces back to them. But they’ve gone quiet once you’ve mentioned the title they’ve risked. Your father’s frown is unmistakable and your mother doesn’t look at you. “Don’t do things like this anymore. Please.” The two of them look at one another with faces you can’t decipher. You’ve never asked for many things from them before. But this time, you’re begging. There’s a knock on the door and Jungkook enters a second later. He doesn’t notice the tension in the room, the stiff atmosphere that’s put you on the verge of tears. “Anastasia!” He comes to your side, scanning you up and down and your parents take their leave to give you privacy, probably with the hope that this incident will drive you and Jungkook closer together. “I’m alright,” you lie and sit down shakingly on the edge of your bed. Even with the horrors of your reality, you can’t help but wonder what’s going on with Taehyung. // Across the castle, the throne room empties. Everyone’s attending to the Crown Prince’s fiancée after all and an incident like this won’t be taken lightly. It’s a threat to the royal family, something Taehyung knows most about since he’s the embodiment of one. Taehyung turns away. “If I can be excused.” He doesn’t expect a reward, acknowledgment, recognition. He didn’t come to you for those things, but the King would never offer it to him anyway. He’s the bastard son. The shame of the family. And yet, he can’t even leave in peace. “I know what you’re doing,” the King speaks up in a low tone, a warning. The dark-haired man halts-mid step, his brows furrowed in puzzlement. The King’s wiry lips upturn but the smile never reaches his old eyes. “You’re trying to undermine the royal family and take the crown for yourself. First by taking your brother’s fiancée and then gaining the acceptance of the people. Winning the Hunt was only the first step, wasn’t it? I’ve underestimated you, boy. But I’m not blind to greed.” “No.” Taehyung turns on his heel to look at his so-called father. “You’re blind to benevolence. You don’t understand how someone could be motivated by something other than power.” “What is it that you want then?” he challenges him. “If not to take the throne for yourself.” Taehyung walks away. “I want the one thing I could never have.”

The flower petal is plucked. It’s pulled from its center and flutters in a downwards spiral, dusting the grass in a blushing hue. “Are you okay, Anastasia?” Lucy leans in close, her murmur full of concern and you muster a nod as you continue to pluck flower petals. Instead of a game of he loves me, he loves me not, it’s I’ll live, I’ll die. “I knew I should’ve come with you. I was so worried. To think that….that something like that would happen.” You wonder what she would think if she knew that you took her place. That she was the one who was supposed to be taken out in the open in the middle of the night like that. That the both of you traded positions. But she isn’t the one to blame. “It’s not your fault.” “Lady Anastasia...” “You didn’t know something like that would happen.” You muster a smile. “I was the one who told you to go back, right?” Gossip about the incident has spread through the palace and past its walls, especially the fact that Taehyung was the saviour. He rescued you, saved your life. He was the one who came after you when you were confident no one else would. How could someone like that be the villain? You don’t understand. No one does. In the original game, Taehyung instigated a civil war and in one of the final scenes, he dies by his brother’s sword as the heroine he had fallen in love with stands by his brother’s side. The last thing he says is her name before he crumbles on his knees. A death that only brings celebration to the empire. It’s as tragic as your ending. You wonder if such a thing is going to happen in the near future. You wonder if it’s possible you could avoid his bad ending as well as your own. But you don’t know if you can prevent Taehyung from committing his crimes. You don’t know if his hatred and jealousy will ruin him. The pit of your stomach stirs uncomfortably at the thought. He’s done so much for you. He’s saved your life. He shouldn’t succumb to his darkness. You owe him at least that much. “Lucy.” You snap back to attention, turning to the girl who’s been keeping you company all afternoon by her own accord. “What do you think of Taehyung?” You saw her earlier talking to Jungkook in the open corridor. It looked like they ran into one another on accident, but while you couldn’t hear what their conversation was about, it seemed intimate. Or at least, you’ve never seen Jungkook look so delighted and shy at the same time. Usually, you’d watch from afar. Admire the scene at a distance. But you’re not sure what to think of it anymore. “His Highness?” She blinks and admits, “I’ve only held one conversation with him before. But he seems very kind.” “He is.” For some reason, your smile can’t reach your eyes. “You should speak to him more. He would be a good match for you.” The girl is caught off guard by your bluntness and blushes while looking away. “I-I would never dare to dream of marrying into the royal family. I’m already honoured to be your friend, Anastasia.” Your arm extends and you clasp your hand on top of her’s that’s within her lap. “Then think of it as a favour you’re doing for me.” Lucy meets your eyes with a frown, unable to understand why you’re oddly persistent. But she doesn’t know that the only route to save Taehyung is through the heroine, albeit she will suffer the most and it’s the hardest path to take. Instead of being with Jungkook, it’s possible she can end up with Taehyung. But only she has the capabilities to save him, just like the game. You look down to your ground that’s filled with the remains of the flowers you ruined. It’s just like the villainess to have to destroy everything she touches.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts reader insert #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #I know this chapter is short but next chapter will be a bit longer #plus this is kind of a necessary intermission before shit really hits the fan #trust me y'all #anyway hope you enjoy it!!

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immortalonus · 3 years ago

Text

Where You Belong: Chapter 3

A/N: I hate this chapter so, so much. Unfortunately, I also couldn't find any way around it. If I got anything wrong, chances are I just missed it, so feel free to let me know.

Read on AO3 here.

“...Humans with ghost powers!? Crazy, right?” Valerie snorted, then paused.

“Or humans that turn into ghosts, or ghosts that—stay human when they die or whatever. The important thing is that there was a part of Ellie that was real. And if it hadn't been for Phantom, I'd have just left her there with Plasmius, to do whatever—to hurt—to—”

Valerie took a moment, struggling to admit out loud what she had already begun suspect for herself.

“—kill her. he was gonna murder a little girl, mama, and if Phantom hadn't convinced me she still had some human in her, if I hadn't listened to a ghost, I woulda let him.”

Phantom, if she hadn't listened to Phantom, specifically. It was a detail that still irritated her every time it came up.

The ghost boy had been so persistent, for so long in his charade of being a “good guy,” that most days, she simply tuned him out.

And truly, was that so wrong?

Up to that point, Everything Phantom had said in his own defense had been nothing more than talk. Oh, he said sorry, he said he felt bad about it, but at the end of the day, what had he done?

Ruined her fathers job and her life, then fled the scene like the criminal he was.

Stole for the hell of it and couldn't even be bothered to take the blame when he got caught.

(Valerie still had no idea why the ghost thought an “evil mind controlling clown guy,” was a reasonable excuse, at all, for anything.)

Who was always ready to fight, but never to help.

Never, not once, in all the wretched aftermath of the Grey's financial dissolutionment, had Phantom come to their aid. Not in the immediate events that came after, nor during the process of her father's dismissal, when he could well have stayed his expulsion simply by appearing, proving Damian Grey's assertions of spectral interference months before he would have been otherwise believed.

Not during the move from her childhood home to her current residence down in Elmerton. Too strapped to hire assistance, it had been down to Valerie, her father, and Fenton, who had taken his weekend off to help her move instead.

No haunting the creditors who dogged their every step, even now.

Hell, he couldn't even be bothered to tell the public that it was his fault her life was ruined! In private, yes, where he knew no one could hear. But never where it mattered, to whom it mattered, since that would require Phantom to actually give something up for once and admit what he did was wrong. Which he would never do, because Phantom, like all ghosts, was a fundamentally egotistical creature, right down to his very core.

No, Valerie had good reason to believe that she had Phantom all figured out: A showboating prig, full of hot air and false excuses, distinct from other ghosts only in his capacity to fool the masses into believing he was ever anything more.

Then Elle happened.

The ghost girl's mere existence had managed to throw Valerie's world into a whole new tailspin, leaving her reeling even as events conspired to yank more and more of her footing out from under her, teetering on the edge of her own understanding as all her convictions suffered blow after blow.

Living ghosts.

Ghostly humans.

Friends acting as enemies.

While enemies acted as friends.

“I woulda let him kill her.” She repeated, “Just like I let him kill—end—All those other ghosts I gave him, just handed 'em over for whatever freak experiments he had cooked up.”

Just like she had snuffed out who knew how many other specters during her own patrols.

How many of them were still alive in there, she wondered, underneath the ghost?

Her mother's brows seemed to furrow in response, worried, no doubt, over what exactly her daughter had done.

“I didn't mean it mama, it wasn't my fault! It was all Plasmius, you know Plasmius? That knockoff Nosferatu all the time picking fights with Phantom. He used me and he lied, and—“ Valerie licked her lips futilely seeking moisture from a mouth gone dry.

“He played human to do it.”

Valerie felt a flush of rage and shame wash over her at the words. She had been used all over again, played for a fool and manipulated just like her so-called “friends” had used her before, dangling control and importance in exchange for the very essence of her soul.

To learn that she had struck the same deal with a different kind of devil, that all her power was a tool in someone else's hands had curdled into an ache that rivaled the raw burn of a whole new betrayal.

Because unlike the A-listers she'd run with not too long ago, or even Phantom, who she'd always hated, Vlad Masters had been a man she'd seen fit to trust.

“Plasmius was Masters, and—God, they even share the same first name—My sponsor, the guy who gave me my first suit, trained me up, even kept me and daddy off the streets when things were at their worst. And me stupid enough to think it was 'cause he cared.”

A hard exclamation escaped her throat at the thought, to forceful for a scoff, too sharp for laughter.

No such thing indeed.

“Everyone's out for something. Masters—Plasmius, he was out for Phantom, and I was just the pawn that was supposed to get take him out.”

That's part of what scares me too. Why was Plasmius so dead set on Phantom? Why'd he sink so much money into taking him out? Why does Phantom hate him back?”

And it was peculiar, how much Phantom seemed to hate Plasmius. Valerie had thought for a long time that it was some kind of territory dispute, a conflict over a rare and valuable thin spot between realities. After years of chasing after Phantom, however, it became more and more clear that the ghost boy's resentment of Plasmius went beyond that of simple competition.

The mere mention of the vampiric specter was enough to turn Phantom tense and snippy, as though the mere thought of the other ghost irritated him, somehow. After witnessing the two up close, Valerie's suspicions had cemented into certainty: Phantom hated Plasmius, and he hated him personally.

“There's so much I don't know, and no one to tell me. Plasmius doesn't know that I know, and until I get out from under him, that's how it's gotta stay.”

How Valerie was supposed to get out from under Plasmius was another question entirely. Plasmius, in Vlad Master's guise, was the sole reason the Grey family had managed to keep on top of its debts for as long as they had. To make matters worse, he also provided most of the materials Valerie's suit consumed for its more elaborate systems and weaponry.

Even so, the temptation to throw it all away and smash Plasmius' smug face against her boot was a strong one, stayed only by the fear of what would happen to her father if she tried.

“Phantom went squirrelly on me too,” she said. “I thought maybe I could get something from him, since we never ended that truce. But in the end, he was still just a ghost.”

She hadn't wanted to go to Phantom, in those days between Elle's escape and her decision to plunge into the Zone, had felt too much like would be admitting something, somehow, to do so. Had it not been for the fact that Phantom was her sole and only choice, she was sure she would never have asked at all.

Once she'd made the decision to do it, he'd been easy enough to track down. She found him—where else?—but In the middle of a fight, duking it out at altitude with one of the countless animal ghosts that regularly made their way across the paltry excuse for a veil stretched across Amity Park.

The fight had been easy, the conversation that came after it, much less so.

How could someone be alive and dead at the same time? Were they alive and dead at once? all the time? Did they alternate at will? Were they born? Were they made? How many were there? A lot? How did she spot a human-ghost if she saw it? Was there a way to tell? Or did you have to guess?

Phantom had been the one to tell her that these human-ghost, ghost-human things could exist in the first place, which had lead her to expect, rather despite herself, that perhaps he could explain them, too.

So it was only natural, really, that in that moment precisely, he had chosen to clam up. He knew nothing of these miraculous hybrids, could find out nothing concerning them, and as to finding them, he had no clue at all. Nevermind that it had been he who had first told her such beings were possible in the first place, the ghost was a veritable well of ignorance, utterly unable to aid in her pursuits.

“Ghosts are narrow minded and selfish, they go round everywhere like they've got blinkers on both sides of their head. You stick an idea in front of their nose, and they grab it if they like it, and shove it away if they don't. They don't consider where you got the idea from, they don't think about why its there, they don't even goddamn care why you picked it up in the first place. All that matters is somethings blocking their little slice of the world, theirs, specifically, 'cause they wouldn't never consider any other kind.

That was Phantom's problem, he wanted a truce yeah, but his way, not mine. A truce for beating things up, not a truce for trusting and talking or or anything that might give trouble to him. That wasn't how he wanted it to work.

He was even worse with Elle. She's the only other one I could talk to—not counting you, ma—who could tell me anything about anything about what was going on!

And Elle, I couldn't track her down. When she said she had places to be, I thought she meant like Phantom when there wasn't anything fun for him to hit, not just gone! I tried tracking her, I did, but it didn't work. Either staying human hides her, or she's run too far to track.

Stupid Phantom wouldn't help me with that, neither. It was just 'oh she's fine,' this and 'why do you care' that, like I can't worry about a human girl wondering on her own without nobody to make sure she's even fed!”

Not only had he been absurdly reluctant to answer her questions, but even had the audacity to wonder if they were at all related to her continued association with Plasmius. It was an insult, beyond all doubt, as though he didn't know how little choice she had.

As though he wasn't the one who forced her into making it.

“I guess so far as he figured, if Elle wasn't being kidnapped, then she was fine. It didn't matter that she's a kid, or alone, or was stealing apples just to eat. She was strong enough to survive on her own and not melt, and that was good enough for him. He just sat there when she left, too, watching her scat like any other ghost."

Did he know how far she intended to run, or simply fail to understand why he should care?

"No matter how well he thinks he means, Phantom can't help the human parts of her. Just because she could beat any man that tried to take doesn't mean that she doesn't get—scared, or lonely, or—“ Valerie wriggled uncomfortably in her pallet of dust. “—Or that she doesn't need people. Phantom can't give that, and Plasmius is a sick piece of shit, so that left me. Just me. If I let that go, then Elle'd be alone for real.”

The worry in her mother's gaze didn't lighten, exactly, but it did shift, consternation giving way to curiosity mixed with a hearty topping of concern. It was easy to imagine the question she would have asked, if she could but speak.

“Then what is it do you think you're doing all the way out here, hm?”

Valerie sighed. This, at least, she had a clear answer for.

“I'm on a mission. There's this thing called the infini-map. Don't have all the details, but with a name like that?” She scoffed, “don't need 'em. Whatever it is, its good enough to send Plasmius into a fit just at the idea of laying claws on it.

If I could get something like that, imagine, I could find Elle in a heartbeat. No more lookin', no more running blind and hoping for luck. And when I find her, I could use it get out from under Masters thumb for good. Use it, sell it, whatever, with that thing, it would be easy. Me and daddy could be set for life.”

At the time, the idea had seemed brilliant. With her search for Elle stymied, and rental payments approaching their inevitable due, she had latched onto the idea of a Ghost Zone mission the instant her so-called benefactor had brought it up. It was a chance to bleed “Mister Masters” of a little more of his money, without actually having to tolerate his presence for any length of time. Even better, it presented an opportunity to do right by her father while staying far away from the quiet anger, the soft, dispirited sense of regret that had seemed to overtake him as jobs remained scarce, and Valerie continued to hunt.

Perhaps most selfishly, it was the opportunity for the Red Huntress to become what Valerie had had always wanted her to be: A free agent, no puppet masters, no expectations, just the world, and herself within in it.

It was one thing she truly did not regret, even now, lying in the dirt looking up at the memory of a memory ripped to tatters in her hands. Whatever else happened in this strange, wild place, it was her decision, her choice. She was finally in control.

Thinking of control, there was another reason why she wanted to speed up her search for the ghost girl.

“Elle's a good kid, but she <i>is</i> a kid, with a ghost in her she don't even know to fear. I'm not sure how long she can fight it like that without anyone to tell her what's going on. She needs someone who knows about ghosts,who can show her how to fight back, 'cause if she doesn't, I'm not sure how long she'll last until she ends up Plasmius."

“Or Phantom.”

It was an ugly theory, but explained a great deal. The identical looks, the raw antipathy towards Vlad, in particular, or how a full ghost could see himself as related, somehow, to a being that was something so much more.

All ghosts came from somewhere, and Valerie rather doubted Elle was truly Plasmius' only attempt at capturing a hybrid of his own.

“'Cause I think they're the same kinda thing. It explains why Plasmius wanted her so bad, and they change the same way, too. They go from being a ghost, ectosignitures and all, to being alive. Not some fake, but breathing, heartbeats, everything. There's something in them that's really, truly alive.

Plasmius and Elle, they're both alive," she whispered, "but only Elle's human, and I don't know how long that's gonna last.

I can't stay stupid about all this ghost shit, neither. There's so much they won't tell me, and Elle's my ticket to figuring it out. If I can find her in time, I could fix it. Bring her to the Fentons, maybe, take out the ghost before it gets too big, make cash, move out me and daddy and Elle all together. Either way, this is how I do it, right here, right now. This is my chance.”

No more being lead around like a particularly witless donkey for his carrot wielding master, no more suppressing every violent impulse that threatened to take her over any time she chanced to look “Mister Masters” in his insufferable face, no more long, interminable periods of her nose against a grindstone day after day, scraping her fingers bloody against poverty's wall in the way her father seemed convinced was better, somehow, for all the pain it so obviously caused him.

“I know it's risky, but it's worth it, it's gotta be. If I can get the infinimap, then I can fix everything, all at once. I won't owe nobody nothing, and I can start fixing things again, for everyone.”

And perhaps her mother agreed, as the shadow that had gathered against her brow seemed to ease, relaxing back into something more serene.

Valerie smiled, running her thumb over the place where her face once was, pointedly ignoring the sensation of absence in favor of the smiling visage still shining across her display.

“See, I knew you'd see it my way.” Valerie was pretty sure she'd had to have gotten her sense of adventure from somewhere, after all. “It's hard, but I'm fine. And when this is all done, it'll be more than fine, it'll be better.

Just you wait.”

Overlay image: Session end.

The memory of Theresa Grey vanished slowly, victim of her daughter's own reluctance to see her go. But vanish she did, sunshine grew pale and laughter faded, memory crushed into data and erased of meaning, and Valerie was once again alone.

She sighed, finally allowing herself to lower the photograph as she reached over for her other parcels, which she began collecting into a small bundle atop her chest.

Technically, she could reach over to put her mother with her boots and rations instead of the other way around, but found herself suddenly disinclined to do so. Without the stress of the day to keep her going, she found exhaustion pushing down at her very bones, keeping her pressed against the meager comfort of her body warmed hollow of dirt.

No, lifting herself up as little as possible seemed a very enticing proposition indeed.

She grabbed both her boots, then her gloves, peeled off to reveal the same skintight leather which coated the rest of her, the remains of her wallet, and a single, battered bag, too smooth for leather, too thick for silk: All supplies from her earlier run in with the thieving insect from before, pared down to those goods and supplies she could actually use.

She chose not to dwell on how few of them there were.

Her mother came last, placed gently at the head of the pile, where she could look it over one last time.

She should have done this sooner, she knew, perhaps even the moment she entered the Zone. Keeping the photograph on her physical person was too much of a risk, one born of foolish sentiment and thoughtless desire. She had just wanted so badly to keep one good thing with her, somewhere tangible and real, she'd disregarded the threat she put it in.

Because if there was one thing death was guaranteed to do, it was steal everything and everyone it thought was yours.

Valerie placed her hands over the small collection, reaching once again into the inorganic hum prickling ever at the edges of her mind.

Unit_1 selected (Gen_Storage:)

Report

Status: Stable (20% full)

Contents (See details)

Intake request:

Intake selected? (Y/N)

>Yes

Processing…

A flick of her mental fingers, and it was done. Boots, bag, and all turned into their own kind of mist, dissolving into the small pocket dimension that followed her always, shadows diffusing into the surrounding light, the weight of them dissipating until nothing but the memory of their pressure remained.

Valerie brushed her fingers over the space they left behind, a half smile tugged at the corners of her trembling lips.

“Goodnight, Ma,” She whispered. A grief like seaglass hung heavy on her heart, smoothed over edges cut no longer, though the heft of its sorrow lay leaden even yet.

“Sleep good now, you hear?”

No voice answered in response.

Valerie no longer expected it to.

Deep in the realm of the dead, a figure turned on its side, curled against itself on its small outcropping of stone. Legs up to its chest, arms clenched tight around its shoulders as it heaved, breath by mortal breath, seeking some moment of repose.

#Valerie Grey #Danny Phantom #Fanfiction #Where You Belong #Chapter 3 #Writing

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