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therewasatale · 3 years

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his scars

On Ao3.

Summary: Each Lord had their own rules, and you have broken Lord Heisenberg's.

Note: I saw a bunch of fanarts with Heisenberg having a lot of scars, so I played with the idea.

Each Lord had their own rules. Which if their servants did not follow, they had to pay a heavy price.

Rules like that; you must not go to the lower levels of the factory alone. If Lord Heisenberg said something, you had to do it without question, especially for your own safety. And if you visited his private room, you always had to knock before entering.

You’ve always followed two of them. However, your attention slipped over the last one as you hurried out of the elevator to Heisenberg's room. At each step, you could feel the slow, rhythmic thumping of the factory from behind and below you as the various machines and tools worked non-stop. Every click, tap, or squeak has become as familiar to you as your very being.

Pulling closer the book you got from him a month ago, you tried to gather your thoughts about what you wanted to say. You'd have never thought a darker fantasy would appeal to you so much. It had a mystery, a bunch of different, but still interesting characters, and an oppressive background that the story slowly began to bring to light by the end of the first book. The ending was open for a promising sequel.

And you entered his room. Without knocking.

Inside, the smell of thick tobacco and oil rushed your senses.

"Heisenberg, I brought back the book! And imagine it's already-"

"WHAT IN THE LIVING HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" He yelled.

You froze in place in the doorway. The sudden shout shook you up completely and you gripped the book tighter in your hand so you wouldn’t drop it.

Your gaze was immediately drawn to the man, as he was standing by the bed.

Heisenberg's shirtless upper body was covered in a myriad of thin scars, like cobwebs across his entire body. Starting at his neck, they ran down his chest all the way to his waist, and probably continued under the pants. The scars on his arms were gnarly, from long healed injuries, which were most likely the results of fights. However, some of those on his chest were too straight and clean to come from an accident.

"Get. Out." He didn't look into your eyes. Objects trembled around him. A knife rose into the air from his desk. "NOW!"

You didn’t look back when the door slammed close behind you. Not when the elevator was already climbed up a few levels. And not even when you got to your own room and threw your back at the door. You felt like a hand was wrapped around your throat and it began tightening its fingers, ever so slowly.

Long minutes passed and yet you still felt as if your heart was trying to break out of your chest. The only thing you could clearly hear besides the beating of your heart, was your own panicked breathing.

"Shit..." you slid down with trembling legs. You had to wrap your hands around your body to try stop the trembling.

It was over.

You broke his rule. And now he's going to kill you, if you're lucky, he will make it quick.

Each Lord had their own rules, and now you have broken Lord Heisenberg's. Like a stupid fucking kid.

"Shit!"

You were aware of the fact that the people in the Dimitrescu castle disappears and got replaced very often, and you were really surprised how different Heisenberg was from what you imagined. He shouted a lot and swore even more, but he never tried to hurt you, even on his worst days, he just grumbled impatiently and vented his frustration on his machines.

He was loud, but understanding in his harsh way. Impatient, but still a good listener on his good days. He was rough, but you knew he cared about you, in his own grumpy way.

You were happy. You enjoyed living here.

But now...

Now you had to get out of here.

The sudden thought helped to clear your head with such force that you have managed to get on your feet. You didn't want to die. You didn't deserve death for a complete nonsense.

You had to get away.

Heisenberg waited while as the elevator started upwards.

He didn't even have to move his hand. The knife spun around its axis then it slammed into the wall with tremendous force, then again and again and again. It didn't stop until the blade bent from the force. His fingers trembled, bolts and gears threw themselves around him in all directions. The legs of his bed buckled as the springs in his mattress straightened, pierced trough the material and then snapped and shot themselves into the ceiling.

"Fuck!" He grabbed his dirty-gray hair and pulled it hard enough so the pain would clear his head a bit. He needed to calm down before he smashed everything around him. The bed creaked behind him, as two of its legs finally gave up and fell to the ground with a thud. Then there was silence again. This snapped him out from his blind anger.

He shut his eyes tightly. Letting his shoulder sunk, he took a step back and threw his back against the cold wall. He needed to take a few deep breaths to slow down his pounding heart.

When he opened his eyes the first thing that caught his eye, was a scar running through his forearm. He clearly remembered getting it in a fight against a bunch of lycans. Years ago, when he started constructing his factory the territory of the lycans stretched all the way to the area where the main building would be. At the time, they didn’t even know who they were facing and sometimes they ventured through the fence. That evening, Heisenberg did not expect them in such numbers, let alone that they will attach wooden spears on their arm to counteract his powers.

With a sharp exhale he lowered his arm.

Those creatures became what they were thanks to Cadou. Technically, they were all related. He took a deep breath, knowing it well that these thoughts didn’t help and were not important right now.

He gave himself a disgusted look before he got dressed. When he buttoned the last button on his shirt, only then he let his thoughts wander again. An unpleasant feeling settled into his chest.

You saw him. And now you will run away.

It was over.

He knew that the body he had to live in was utterly repugnant. The body which was experimented on by Mother Miranda, conducting studies and surgeries until she was satisfied with it. The body she put the parasite in and which cursed him with this fate. He hated her for making him this way, and he hated himself for being her child.

He still woke up time to time drenched in sweat from nightmares where he has been implanted with the parasite over and over again.

It spread throughout his body and turned his existence into pure hell. His thoughts burned away by the eruption of the unbearable pain, he felt as if his chest would open up and his heart would tear itself out of its place. However, the worst part of it all, was the realization that something was trying to subsume his consciousness. Claws tore into his brain and tried to suppress part of his being. It was almost successful, but Heisenberg held on.

And when he woke up after the procedure, he found himself in a whole new hell.

You were the only thing, along with the constant building, that kept him happy day by day, and helped suppress his raging hatred. On the worst days he still could felt the Cadou trying to making its way into his head. But you always were there to help him, or at least, you tried and he was grateful, even when he didn't say anything.

He knew full well that this would not last forever. Because why would it last? In this godforsaken horrible place everything fell to pieces and rotted apart eventually.

He took out a cigar from the depths of his coat.

He didn't want anything; he didn't ask to being like this. And yet you stayed with him. He had you. But now, you saw him.

The bitter smoke slowly rose from his lips.

Everything was over.

Hours have passed. Night arrived, or just the tiredness told you that.

You thought about running away again and again trying to figure out how, and when you should do it. The first thing you thought was that you had to find a way to do it as soon as possible. The elevator was an option, but you would have risked running into Heisenberg, or, more dangerously, into his servants. He could send them after you at any time.

It was risky.

Or there was a ventilation system that weaved through the factory. You could use that, though you were afraid of getting lost inside of it forever rather than getting out. Escaping trough, the dumpster promised only similar chances.

You even started to think that maybe first, you should talk to the man. Or at least try to talk to him. Though your reasonable-self protested profusely against this emotional suggestion.

However, your pride also spoke up and somehow, it made you stay. You're not going to run. Not anymore. Not from him.

So, you waited.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you hoped you would have a chance to talk to him. You just couldn’t decide when to go to him. Every part of your body shivered as Heisenberg's angry voice echoed in your head. You had to go to talk to him, but you were simply unable to leave your room, at least for now.

Fortune was on your side for once.

Your door opened slowly. You felt your shoulders tense up and you swallowed dryly. You couldn’t look up at him.

"I thought you would have left already." His voice didn't sound as harsh, as you would have expected.

You glanced up at the man who was leaning against the doorframe. He folded his arms in front of his chest, his eyes were hidden behind his black sunglasses.

"Why should I leave?"

"Well," despite his words his voice sounded surprised "I yelled at you."

"You've yelled before."

Heisenberg snorted a little and rubbed his hair under his hat. This didn’t go as he thought it would. "Well yeah, but..." his words let him down.

"What happened to you? I mean your body…?" You got up from your bed. He was just a few steps away from you.

The man drummed with his fingers a couple of times on his arms. "I fell."

"Heisenberg..." you took a careful step towards him.

"Lord Heisenberg." He corrected you. "If my bitch mother is forcing this prestigious bullshit then we should keep to it." He sounded more annoyed than angry. He continued to drum slowly with his fingers, but you could also feel his eyes watching you from behind his glasses.

"I'm sorry that I didn't knock."

For long minutes, the only thing could be heard was the rhythmic thumping background sounds of the factory.

"Well...Yeah..." He scratched his graying hair slowly as he pushed himself away from the doorway. "Listen, if you want to go, then go. I'm not going to stop you, just don't ever comeback. All right? Have a nice life, or whatever. That giant trash is actually looking for new maidens," He turned around.

You managed to stand up and hurried after him stopping him in front of the elevator.

"What?" Heisenberg glanced down at your arms as you hugged him. "(Y/N)?"

"I'm sorry." You snuggled closer to his back, hiding your face in the fabric of his coat.

"For what?" His hands shook, he had to stop himself from touching your arms. The thought made him tremble a bit, but he realized that you were trembling too. You were so close to him, he could felt your body against his, your finger griped into his clothes.

"For not knocking. And not saying sorry. And for not trying to talk to you." His coat smelt like tobacco and oil, just like everything around him did in this place. For you, it felt like home.

When he didn't answer, you spoke again.

"I don't want to leave. I'm sorry."

There was another quiet minute. You were about to let him go when he finally found his voice.

"Are you sure? But you saw me." He carefully caressed your hand with his fingers. "You saw what that bitch did to me."

So, you were right, those wounds were too straight to be from some kind of accident.

With your eyes closed you enjoyed the gentle touches, as he run his fingers along the top of your hands, and then slowly moved up on your arms as well. He slowly relaxed between your arms and leaned closer to your body. Even his breathing became more even.

When he sighed, you let him out from your hug and stepped beside him, looking up at him "Come with me, Lord Heisenberg." You gently took his hand and pulled him after you. heading back to your room.

"Hm?"

"I need some rest, and you too. And I'm sure you've destroyed half of your room."

Heisenberg pulled down his hat into his eyes. Damn.

"Why would I have done that?" Oh, for the love of god, shut up you, idiot! He snorted to himself.

"Because you care about me, just as much I care about you. Come." You pulled him all the way to your bed. Turning towards him you took off his hat and glasses.

"Mh, what?" His tired eyes looked straight into yours.

"Your eyes are really beautiful."

"Oh shut up." Stepping next to you, he threw himself on the bed.

You never dared to ask why you got a bed which was big enough for two people. Whether someone owned this room in the past, or the man had some kind of plan for you. But right now, as he leaned back to the bed, you haven’t really found a reason to worry about that. Climbing next to him, you hid under his arm. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you sighed deeply.

"Well, I hope you're happy."

"Very much, thank you."

He snorted and listened quietly to your steady and calm breathing as he tried to ignore his own pounding heart. He fervently hoped you wouldn't notice this. This hope was unfortunately false considering that you were only a couple of centimeters away from his heart.

The redness spread through his face even more so than before.

He didn't imagine this could happen. You shouldn't have been here anymore. You should have gone to the village a long time ago and not looked back. You should have left everything...and everyone behind.

Instead, you were here. And you laid next to him so damn close. His skepticism struggled against the notion.

Like anything would just become magically fine after this.

"You know, you can't fix me with cuddling, right? I'm messed up in the head and even more fucked up in my body." He swallowed dryly.

"What are you talking about?" Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes.

"I just told you." He let out an impatient huff. "You can't fix me, I'm this fucked up. And it won't go away after some warm cuddling and snuggling. Sorry to ruin your hopes."

"I don't want to fix you, Heisenberg."

"What?" Every answer of yours caught him off guard.

"Why would I want to fix you when I like you this way?" You leaned closer, slowly kissing him. His body tensed, you could feel his grip tighten on your shirt, then his lips gently kissed you back. The kiss tasted bitter, like his cigar. He pulled you closer and didn't let go until you yourself pulled back.

Looking into his eyes you smiled gently. "Besides, I've been here a long time, so I'm pretty sure I'm just as messed up in the head."

"Damn." His grey eyes almost sparkled. "God damn."

You let him pull you closer, snuggling up to his shoulder.

"So, we're messed up together."

"Pretty much, yeah. But somehow it doesn't bother me."

Heisenberg was sure by then that you could feel the pounding of his heart, but he didn't mind it now. He gently caressed your face with his fingertips from your forehead through the line of your nose all the way to your chin. He spent a lot of time under your eyes.

"Listen, I know she did something to you." You placed your palm carefully on his chest. "But your body isn’t scaring or disgust me." You gently caressed around his heart trough his shirt. "It's your body, it belongs to you and I like it. I mean it's yours and it's fine."

"Mh," he replied tellingly.

His heart finally started to quiet down. Good. He needed to think with his god damn head and not with his heart. Everything happened differently. For hours he believed, no, he knew, that you have already ran away. He wanted to give you time, that was one of the reasons he didn’t come after you for so long. And yet, deep within him he felt he can't just let you go. Who knew what he would have done if you would have told him to his face that you are leaving him? He felt as if his whole world started to tremble.

It was as if you could feel what he was thinking you snuggled closer and rubbed your head against his shoulder.

The man sighed softly.

But you stayed. You were here, and you were honest. Maybe he could be a bit honest too.

"Sometimes, I dream that I'm just a machine myself." He gently played with your hair. It was a long time ago when he touched something this soft. "That I'm lying on one of Mother Miranda's experimental tables, and when I look down at myself I see nothing but gears and bolts that work together inside me. It's not my body anymore, I lost my real one. Then I start to lose my mind as well. And she just watches me, every damn time. Calling me his son. " He rubbed his face into his hands.

Raising your head a little you laid it back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"What are you-"

"Sh."

The man snorted, in confusion and embarrassment.

"Hm, all I can hear is your flesh heart beating in your chest. The rhythm is pretty fast but maybe because of the many cigars."

"Oh, shut up." He hid his face in his hands and tried to rub the crimson of his face away.

"All right, all right." You snuggled back to his shoulder. "Still, I'm not going anywhere."

"You can be a stubborn bastard sometimes."

You chuckled, clearly proudly and as you embraced him a smile remained on your face.

The room around you was filled with the sounds of the thumping factory. It felt comforting. Your heart started to quiet down as you let your consciousness relax from the rhythmic noises around you two. His hand drew gently circles on your shoulder.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" You asked, what he didn’t dare to ask.

"Sure." He pulled you even closer and buried his face into your hair. He seemed to relax even more. He raised a finger, and his sunglasses slipped off, levitated under his coat, and raising it up gently laid it on the two of you, before it landed itself on your nightstand with a small clink.

"Thank you." You muttered as you gently drifted towards sleep.

"Yeah-yeah." He kept his face hidden in your hair.

You won't leave him, at least not now. Maybe you will actually stay with him, maybe you were stubborn enough to do it. He ignored his worries about the future, instead, to his own surprise, he let himself be happy for once. He slowly fallen asleep with you on his side, listening to your breathing.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg imagine #heisenberg x reader #reader #re village #copper #heisenberg x you #house heisenberg

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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Ash and Dust Part 6- Small Victories

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Summary: You first meet Dabi on the worst night of your life after unwittingly walking into the very bar the League of Villains made infamous. That should probably be the end of the story. You stumble on the remnants of one of the most infamous terrorist groups in the history of Japan, get viciously murdered or call the cops and get them arrested, the end. Except that’s not the end of the story. It’s only the beginning.

Masterlist Help Lulu (Kofi)

It’s been a month now.

A month of the worst game you’ve ever played in your entire life.

Dabi enjoys the back and forth the two of you have, that much is clear. He seems to get a sick thrill prodding you to see what elicits a quip out of you and what renders you speechless. It’s nerve-wracking constantly standing up to him, trying to navigate the line between jabs that will amuse him and those that will genuinely anger him. By now you feel you’ve got a pretty solid handle on where that line is. You’ve made an art form out of treading around it, but every so often you’ll say something particularly witty or biting and there will be a moment of silence. Those cold blue eyes will fix on you and your heart will pound in your chest. You used to identify the feeling as fear but you think it’s something else now, something you’re unwilling to put a name to. That one moment always seems to extend infinitely before collapsing back in on itself as the words sink in and you pull another amused smirk or even a full-blown cackle from the man. You don’t think he likes you per se, but there’s a persistent fascination that you’re pretty sure makes him want to keep you around. If that were the only facet of the game you think you could live with it, but there’s one more thing.

Dabi is determined to keep you unemployed.

Or perhaps more accurately he’s determined to see how long it’ll take you to give up on being employed.

Every morning for the past month you’ve attempted to get a new job and every morning for the past month Dabi has managed to fuck it up for you one way or the other. From preventing you from doing any prep work for the numerous interviews you’ve attempted to set up, to sabotaging your morning to ensure you show up late, he’s done it all. On one occasion he pretended to be your concerned husband calling to cancel the interview on your behalf, on another he’d burned all of the paperwork you’d needed to bring in to cinders. The interviewers hadn’t been very amused when you opened your manila envelope only for ash to come slipping out and onto the table instead of the requested files. The only reason you aren’t terrified of being unable to pay the rent is because of your artwork. A sentence you never thought would apply to you.

Those two retweets you’d gotten on the Deku painting you’d posted had quickly grown to twenty, then thirty, then a hundred, and then a couple hundred. A few people had even started tagging Deku himself in hopes of drawing his attention to it. The recognition had drawn people to your page and then, finding no other work there, to your dm’s, begging for copies of the painting or their very own Deku fanart. It had reached the point that a couple weeks ago you had decided to start advertising commissions and a few people had taken you up on the offer. It’s not much, but between the commissions and your savings, it would be enough to get you through this month’s rent at least.

You love creating art and it’s surreal getting to do what you love to pay some of your bills, but between spending more time slouched in front of your easel or over a sketchbook and sleeping on the couch, your back is the sorest it’s ever been. As you finish getting ready for bed, slipping into a pair of comfortable pajama shorts and an old college t-shirt, you stare at your bedroom door longingly, yearning for the comfort of your mattress. As you hear the creaking of its springs, a sign Dabi must be crawling into bed after another successful day of fucking your life up, something in you snaps. Your feet carry you into your bedroom, shoving the door open with righteous indignation. You’re a little surprised to see that Dabi is shirtless as he lies in the bed nonchalantly, brow quirking at your sudden entrance. Your eyes can’t help but wander over his chest, noting where scarred tissue is stapled to unmarred flesh but also drinking in the lean muscle on display.

“Ever heard of knocking Doll?”

The sound of his voice breaks you from your thoughts.

“Sorry what?” you ask, cheeks heating up as you realize where your mind had gone.

“I didn’t take you for a pervert but here you are, bursting into my room just to ogle me,” Dabi teases, and immediately your embarrassment from before melts into anger.

“Your room? This is my room! And that’s my bed! And I didn’t come in here to ogle you, I came to sleep in my bed in my room in my apartment!”

“I have zero intention of leaving this bed, but I don’t recall ever saying you couldn’t sleep here.”

Your eyes narrow at him. He’s so smug you want to wipe that stupid look off his face. He’s bluffing and it’s a damn good bluff but it’s a bluff all the same.

“What’s wrong, Doll? Scared to sleep next to the big bad Wolf?” he smirks and that’s the last straw.

Without a word, you storm over towards the bed and practically launch yourself into the limited space Dabi isn’t occupying. You groan appreciatively and within minutes you’re under the covers and getting comfortable. When you look up to Dabi’s face where he’s still sitting up there’s a brief moment of genuine shock and discomfort that flits across his features. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared but a smug feeling of triumph swells in your chest in response.

“What’s wrong Dabi? Scared to sleep next to your Doll?” you smirk and the amount of serotonin you get seeing the look on his face could last you a lifetime. It’s a combination of affronted at your audacity, annoyed you’d called him on his bluff, and begrudgingly impressed you’d had the courage to do it. “We both know I’m not scared of anything,” he growls. “Then sleeping next to each other shouldn’t be a problem, should it? Since I’m not scared and you’re not scared,” you fire back. “No, it shouldn’t.”

Dabi makes himself comfortable as you both stare each other down, daring the other to chicken out and move to the couch outside. Stubbornness cements you both in place though and eventually with a smug goodnight you roll over to face away from him. You hear him scoff and do the same but it feels distant as your aching body settles into the mattress and you drift off to sleep.

A/N: I am very much obsessed with the dynamic reader and Dabi are forming and really enjoy the idea of her feeling out where the line is between “I’m gonna fire back and he’ll be amused my puny ass had the tits to do it” and “oh he’s genuinely pissed and debating ending my life”

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #bnha dabi #dabi #touya todoroki #touya x y/n #touya x fem!reader

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