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#i'm still here. and never getting over him keeping himself alive by dreaming up infinite ways of falling in love with her because wdym??
mintsandapples ยท 1 month
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but then i started dreaming of you. and there you were. you and i fell in love in different ways, and it kept me going. and then you were gone, too. i couldn't see your face anymore, just like i couldn't see carl's. i can't live without you. without you, i die.
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darkdevasofdestruction ยท 4 months
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๐“’๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ต ๐“ยฐ5 ~ ๐“—๐“พ๐“ผ๐“ด๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐” ๐“ก๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ป
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Oh, to be young and in love, in the most romantic era of the notorious 1950s, with one very magical man who never fail to make you swoon with every suave look who offers.
It isn't very often that Husker reminisces his past life - He knows, if he does, he will remember all of the good times, when his heart was gold and trembling with pure emotion - After all, if he recalls the time he was alive, and very much in love, his frozen heart will just shatter to dust once again, with the same infinite anguish he felt once everything was ripped away from his grasp.
A pain so intolerable, that runs so deep - A pain that no amount of alcohol can mend.
He never truly knows whether he wants to remain asleep forever, so that he will never have to face reality again, or if that would be a nightmare, tormenting him for the remaining abyss of eternity...
Or, perhaps he should stay awake, so that memories will stop toppling him over, beginning with a most beautiful reverie, yet always ending with the same night terror he must face every time.
If this is his way of paying for his irredeemable sins, then he is well aware he deserves it, and even more - Yet every smell reminds him of that sweet Chanel Nยฐ5 that she used to wear. Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of the gracious dances he would share with her. Every song he hears, he recalls that angelic voice of hers, and every time he lays abed and stares up at the ceiling, her seraphic visage flashes before him.
"You are drinking again." Angel slumped in one of the stools by the bar, noticing his best friend looking in a far worse state than usual. "Rough day?"
"Rough life." Husk rasped, chugging down a whole bottle of strong spirits.
"Wanna talk about it?" he tried, in vain, to appear sympathetic - The feline demon was far too gone into his own darkness to even think about slurring away his never-ending sorrows.
"I wanna die, that's what I want." he growled, slamming away the bottle into the nearest wall. "Just like this fucking bottle. That's what I fuckin' wanna do - I wanna die, damn it!"
Angel's eyes widened greatly - Yes, life in hell surely was crazy, and especially for demons like the two of them, who sold their souls away because of their own failures, both in life, and now, in hell - But what in the world could it have caused him to get so hopeless that he was unable to fight back the tears glistening in those tortured eyes?
Even someone like him couldn't dare to make light of the situation, or try and crack a joke, let alone taunt or flirt with him. He felt... Pity, for the poor bartender who always listens to others' woes, yet dares naught speak out his own problems.
"Listen... Husk, ergh... I'm not the best at comforting, okay? But... If I can help, you can tell me... And, if not, then... I'll still be here. And maybe try to keep the others away from you. How's that?" Husk didn't quite seem to compute what his friend said, though he robotically nodded his head, as if remote controlled.
Angel remained in that stool for a few hours, watching the winged demon drink bottle after bottle after bottle, yet his sorrows only washed over him tenfold with each shattered glass against a different wall. He wonders what is going through Husk's mind, what he's ruining himself over with each sigh o grip on his fur.
Who would have thought that, of all things possible, Husker's greatest lament was...
"I fucking hate red. Why the fuck are my wings red? Of all the fucking colours in hell, they just had to be red, yeah?" he stammered angrily, pulling at his feathers. "Y'know what? They can't change colour. Tried dyeing 'em, but nothin'. Got so much fuckin' red on me - I wonder if it's Hell's way of punishin' me forever for my fucking sins."
He hates red...? What an odd statement - He truly seems to have a personal vendetta against that colour - But why? It's just a colour, after all, it can do no wrong. "Why... Do you hate red so much...? Angeldust dared to ask.
At first, he was met with a low growl, hostile, yet inoffensive at its core. Then, he heard a most disturbing answer. "That was the colour of my wife's dress when I last went home." Angel's brain shut down completely. To think someone was trusting him with such a vulnerable piece of himself, the very core of their hopelessness, their weakness; In a way, he felt flattered that Husk trusted him so much, yet in another way... He couldn't help but feel borderless pity for his friend. He wishes such a fate to no one... Well, maybe to Valentino.
Angel forced himself to smile softly, placing his hand gingerly over his own, taking away the alcohol from his hand. "What was her name?" Husk looked up with shock, a little startled, right into his dual coloured eyes - He hasn't ever spoken her name out loud, it almost felt like a blasphemy against her purity. Yet... Maybe... "Y/N." he dared whisper.
"Y/N." Angel repeated after him. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady." Husk nodded his head.
"She was a Princess." he muttered, his sight blurry with tears.
"A Princess? Really? Nobility and all that?" much to his surprise, Husker chuckled.
"Nah, not quite." he rasped. "At heart, she was. Her family was very rich, so she was pampered up. Huge manor, servants, a personal maid, luxury brands, jewellery and perfumes, indulging in any studies and hobbies she liked..."
"How'd you two meet? I don't suppose you were a Prince or something, were you?" Angel tried to joke friendly, encouraging his friend to open up.
"Ha. Far from it." in his hand, a few dices appeared, and he idly played around with them. "I was an ugly dead beat from a working class broken family. Hardly worthy of her attention." he gritted his teeth bitterly. "Got around to finding work at a young age - Gambling, magic, sax player - If I had money to live, anything worked."
"Did you meet at one of your gigs?" Husk nodded his head affirmatively.
"No clue what she saw in me, Angel. She could do so much better." for a split second, he had a dry smirk on his face, before it disappeared again. "I asked her once, what the hell did she see in me - And she said... I played her favourite song. Silly, innit?"
He didn't receive a mocking laugh, much to his surprise - Instead, Angel cooed. He never imagined the jaded demon before him could be so romantic! "What did you play?" Instead of answering, Husk turned around to his bar, and took out another bottle, yet this time, he hummed a familiar tune as he was doing his bartending for two glasses. "Oh, now I get it - You always hum that song when no one's around! I thought you were just bored out of your mind." he let out an amused exhale. "Fly me to the moon... Refined tastes, alright."
"The stars in the sky never sparkles as brightly as those in her eyes when she looked at me." no wonder he never accepted any flirting from anyone - How could anyone match the love he had for Y/N? "If I were a decent man, I'd have told her not to waste her precious time and love on me. Instead, I was a selfish fuck. I stole years of her life... And in the end, I even stole her life. All because I wasn't even half the fucking man I pretended to be."
The conversation soon turned significantly sour. "I was the man - I was supposed to provide for her. Afford all that fucking expensive Chanel Nยฐ5, and the Dior dresses, the Chantelle lingerie, and the damn Cartier and Tiffany's jewellery." even someone more modern like Angel knew all those luxury brands, and was even more impressed and shocked that they could so easily afford such high-end items. "I brought her flowers every day and I took her out on brunches every morning, on dates every afternoon, and to soirees every fucking evening. She loved dancing at parties... But I suppose she preferred the moonlight over the chandeliers."
"You must have overworked yourself a bunch to afford all these things. I'm sure she appreciated it." Angel tried to comfort him, earning a nod of agreement.
"She told me she didn't need any gift, except for my presence. Genuine woman, that one. But how could I, in good conscience, go to her parents and ask for her hand in marriage, when I couldn't even afford a half-decent house with a room for each of her hobbies, a drawer for each month outfit, another for her shoes and three more for her bags, jewels and perfumes; and a large flower garden and a fucking rose gazebo and a swan pond with ten different breeds of pedigree dogs." Angel cringed a little, realising the tremendous gap between their living conditions. "I lost myself on the way to greatness. She was making me so euphoric that I just wanted to see her excited every moment of her life. I didn't need to eat or drink, I just needed to see her smile, and I could work again a few more days without rest."
"But then... You collapsed from overworking?" Husker shook his head.
"Worse. I fooled her parents completely, and we planned our wedding." he replied bitterly.
"How is that a bad thing? Isn't the wedding day the happiest day in a couple's life?" Husk sighed, from the deepest part of his soul.
"It was." he said. "I got greedy. I went to loan sharks, took a shit ton of money to make that wedding the most grand event the country saw in a while. Then went on a month-old honey moon around the world." he cursed in a few different languages that Angel couldn't understand, but was sure were some highly offensive and crude words that he would never utter around Y/N. "I don't need to say more, do I?"
Yeah, he needn't continue speaking the descent into madness, alright. Angeldust didn't want to hear that his friend's love story ended up in his soulmate getting murderer by the loan sharks, only for him to end up killing them, and then himself, out of pure rage and sorrow. He didn't want to hear that an innocent woman like Y/N never knew that her husband was broke and took loans, just to try and mimic the lavish lifestyle she grew up with and deserved. He didn't want to hear the broken shriek of anguish, or the streaming river of tears that befell as Husker saw her dead, on the floor, her pearly pink dress dyed a deep crimson from her own blood, and getting even more stained with each strong embrace he held around her shattered body, just like a precious porcelain doll fallen off the shelf.
They only just recently became something akin to 'best friends' from both sides... Yet Angel couldn't bare to hear the tragic end of the story, and he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he felt, having to live his afterlife as a Sinner, for as long as he has, without the woman he loves by his side.
"It's better this way, I guess. At least she finally got rid of me. Wherever she is, she must be living far better, than with a lying fuck like me who couldn't keep it together." the spider demon frowned, watching his friend slump on the bar counter.
"I don't think that's the case." he spoke vehemently. "I don't believe there is any person, of any kind, treasuring her as much as you did." Husk's ears perked up immediately, twitching lightly. "At least on an emotional way, I'd say, you and Y/N were lucky. There's so many people who never experience the love you had, let alone get to meet and marry their soulmate."
"What the fuck would you know?!" he growled, throwing a bottle at his head, only for the demon to dodge.
"... I wish I had fallen in love too, you know?" Husk gritted his teeth, realising the sensitive wound that he unwillingly stabbed open - But it wasn't his foult - He is hurt! He is in pain! "As a human, as a demon... I was like you, sort of. I was so shit at managing my life, that I ended up falling prey to my vices... I needed more and more, and I couldn't resist. I had no ration or logic. I gave in to my so-called 'friend group' and got addicted to drugs... Couldn't get rid of that addiction even after death... And I clinged on the only demon who could give me what I wanted... And now, I can't escape Val, even if I wanted to turn my life around and live the life that I never could." Angel had a wry smile on his face. "Do you really think a drug addict or the most famous porn star of hell would be able to meet his soulmate, without destroying their life in the process also?"
The two remained silent, only hanging their head and sighing. No matter how happy life can be for some... It will never have a chance of turning around for them. It just couldn't be. They are in hell, after all. Even Charlie won't be able to save them and bring them on the path of redemption, no matter how insanely enthusiastic and cheerful she can be... They were still sure to drown.
Somehow, this few hours of vulnerability brought Husk and Angel closer, and although they won't be speaking about it again, it was clear to the residents of the Hazbin Hotel that the two were as close as two demons can get, without the inclusion of vice or extortion.
Things were going well enough for them, even with the new addition of Sir Pentious, the villain turned... Something? It was still not too bad around the hotel. Though unsure of whatever Charlie's plan was, to fight against the purge from the Angels, they were still there to sort-of support whatever dream the Princess of the Pride Circle has.
That is, until the Hotel opened its doors to a brand new resident, a gorgeous demoness dressed elegantly in a dress of pearly pink, adorned with high quality jewellery, and with her long hair done stylishly, and smelling like a fresh day of Spring. She walked in guided by the Radio Demon, of all people, and she was smiling so demurely, completely unafraid of the fiend next to her, yet still reserved and soft.
"No way, is that Chanel Nยฐ5?! How'd you get it in here?!" Angel squealed, fangirling over the flowery perfume - But then, it clicked for him. Didn't Husker mention his wife loving this scent the most?
"Oh, you noticed! I am so happy that there are more sensible people - Erh - Demons with refined tastes!" the girl unfolded her laced fan and giggled behind it demurely.
Although she looked even more regal than even the Princess of Hell herself, as they stood next to each other, there was one particular detail that made the new-comer stand out from any other netizen.
With her hands clasped together over her chest, a bright white gold ring, with a most brilliant zircon was shining brighter than even the moon herself.
Whilst the other demons gathered around the seraphic beauty, wanting to have her attention, and even going as far as to have Alastor speak out about this new lady, Husker's breath stopped completely; His brain was going into overdrive, and his heart, he wanted to rip out of his chest.
That ring... That ring, he knew all to well - After all, he bought it himself, when he proposed to Y/N. That voice, the fashion, the mannerism... Even with altered looks, she looked the same. Even in hell, she looked the same. Even with demonic eyes, she looked the same.
She was the most beautiful woman in the universe.
"Y/N, this is Husker, our bartender." Charlie's face was split open by her overly-cheerful grin. "Husk, won't you introduce yourself to Y/N?"
"I'm not a fucking child. I don't need to introduce myself." the man hissed aggressively. "This is fucking stupid, I'm out." without even realising, he shattered the glass in his grasp, before stomping away into his room.
How could that be? Was this a nightmare? Surely, this must be some impersonator demon or something - There's no way an innocent being like Y/N could possibly have ended up in Hell, with a bunch of Sinners, of all thing. Was this his fault also? Did he bring her down with him to hell? Was he never going to be forgiven for all of the shit he's done in his previous life? Did Alastor bring her to the Hotel, so that he could blackmail him even more? Was his empty soul worth so little, in the end?
He was so afraid - Will Y/N be angry once she realises who he is? He couldn't blame her, obviously, he's earned her scorn... Yet why is his heart hurting so bad? He wishes so badly to jump on her and wrap her in his arms and wrings, and never again let her go. Ah, but he looks like a stupid flying cat... He looks ridiculous. There's no way...
...
Perhaps... She should stay with Al...
He has the influence, the money, the fashion sense, the looks, the freedom and privilege, the elegance...
Alastor has everything, and embodies everything that he could never be.
In life, he was selfish, and he didn't let go of her. Perhaps, the only way to apologise and make up for his sins was to let her be cherished by a man capable of doing what he never could.
As he lay awake on the bed, curled up and cursing his whole existence, wanting to sob until his body was all dried up and shriek until his throat was bleeding raw; he wanted to claw his face to velvety ribbons and drown his lungs with all of his blood... As he was succumbing to his self-hatred and spiraling down into the depths of despair, Y/N decided to end the day with some delicious pastries and an aromatic cup of tea in the garden, with her friend, Alastor.
Y/N was idly playing with her ring, looking at the inscription inside of it. 'Y/N โ™ก Husker'. How absolutely adorable, she thought, a beautiful smile gracing her features. "He looks... Different. Are you sure it is the same person, Alastor?" her voice showed nervousness.
"Y/N, Y/N, would I lie to you?" he grinned, as always, sipping from his tea. "You should hear him purr. He truly resembles a little kitten."
Y/N looked up into he friend's eyes, a look of intense surprise and borderline intrigue taking over. "Are you being truthful? He... Purrs?" she gasped, quickly slipping her ring back on her finger.
"Yes, my darling. Unconsciously, someone strokes his fur, he gets so very adorable~." Alastor hums, watching the lady before him being so romantically melancholic over a life long gone. "What did you think about today's meeting?"
Y/N sighed, looking up into the sky. "I feel guilty for enjoying the moment I ripped Velvette apart, yet I feel no remorse for killing her. Such an uncouth and vulgar person has no right to behave with such disrespect towards me." Alastor's grin widened significantly. "And... I cannot wait for the next purge. I want to burn Heaven to cinders. Those hypocrites have grown far too arrogant for their own good, and I believe they need to be taught a harsh lesson."
"I see we are on the same wavelength as always, my dear." the demon sipped from his tea. "I am quite glad those arrogant hypocrites turned you away, for such a silly thing like - Vanity - They say. Beautiful women should be allowed to feel that-a-way, not ostracised for being such jewels for one's eyes." ever the charmer with poison dripping from his tongue. "Before I turn in for the evening, I have a gift for you - For friendship's sake." Y/N rose a suspicious eyebrow, watching as he took out a carefully folded picture from his blazer's pocket, and handing it to her. "I am going for a new fitting with Rosie tomorrow, should you wish to join us for a lovely day of self-care." the girl smiled, nodding her head at him in appreciation. "Have a pleasant evening."
Y/N muttered her pleasantries, and waited for Alastor to leave her sight, before unfolding the picture and bursting to tears. She cradled the precious memory to her heart, and sobbed for as long as her heart needed.
What have they done so wrong to deserve this? They were so happy while alive, so what went wrong? Was her opulent life, the reason for their downfall? Did her beloved think she wouldn't love him, if he couldn't match her family's wealth? Were all soulmates made to be torn apart while at their most blissful?
Still, she was grateful that she wasn't accepted into Heaven, for she would have had a most awful afterlife, as opposed to the many Overlord friends she made since she's been sent to Hell after her gruesome death, and the many favours she received from the Lords and Royals who went to Earth to retrieve items of importance for her.
Drying her tears, Y/N walked back inside the hotel, ready to turn in for the night, only to stop in her tracks as soon as she heard a soft sob, followed by a few very familiar curses in a variety of languages that she knew all too well. Her heart clenched as she stepped cautiously towards the foreign room, eavesdropping for any other sound, only to be met with more muffled cries.
Biting her lip, the demoness knocked on the door, only to be cursed harshly and told to fuck off. Y/N gulped, feeling taken aback by being talked in such a way - Though she immediately composed herself, reminding herself that he, too, is hurting, most likely far more than she is.
She excused herself before opening the door and entering. "What fucking part of 'FUCK OFF' don't you FUCKING UNDERSTA---" Husk was livid, getting in a sitting position as he growled with incredible hostility at the one who dared barge in his bedroom so rudely, only to remain speechless as he realised it was the demoness herself, standing with a sympathetic smile on her face. She also seemed to have been crying prior to this. "Oh. It is you." he cleared his throat, getting back on the bed, unable to face her.
"I have missed you dearly." her voice was so soft, so beautiful, so endearing... "I... Cannot believe that I am seeing you again. It seems to me that, no matter how far apart, our souls will forever traverse oceans of time and space, just to embrace each other once more."
She could hear him sniffling, his nails digging deep into the blanket. "You have always been so romantic and poetic." he grumbled, hiding his face in the pillow. "You shouldn't be here."
"You will have to be more specific, my love." she hummed, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "Here - In Hell? Or here - In your room? Either way, I would say, I am right where I need to be."
"I don't understand." as if burning with frustration, Husk shot up, looking with self-hatred at the girl. "You did nothing wrong your entire life. You were nothing but a living sunshine. A fucking flower in human form. What the fuck did those angels not agree with, that they cast you to this shit hole?"
"There was a time when you would beat up any man who would curse in my presence." Y/N's adorable giggle made the demon's face flush red. "I am sorry that you are suffering so much, at my expense. I could never repay you for everything you have done for me, while we were alive."
"What the hell are you apologising for anyway? I got you killed, not the other way around - And even if it were that way, it'd've been a blessing in disguise, getting rid of a dead beat worthless fuck like me." he huffed, looking away. "You always were too good for me." the demon had so much to say, so many regrets to yell, so much love to spill... Alas, he remained quiet. "You seemed happy with Al. I wish I could be that, while we were alive." his voice went to soft, it was barely audible. "You should... Stay with him."
"Yes, I am happy being friends with Alastor. He was the one who introduced me to Rosie and Carmilla and Zestial, and I cherish them all dearly, as my like-minded friends." Y/N spoke calmly, reaching her hand to cup her lover's soft cheek. "He also was the one to tell me of your misdemeanours. How you succumbed to your vices; to gambling and alcohol, to the the point that you lost your soul in a deal with him. How pitiful." he was so confused as to where she was trying to get with her words, yet in spite of the anticipation for blames and reproaches, he couldn't help but lean into her warm and gentle touch. "He is the one who helped me become an Overlord, and I took your place. And it is Alastor, and some other friends of mine, who helped retrieve some objects I thought long lost."
"... You still smell like Chanel Nยฐ5." his comment made the girl giggle again.
"One of my friends had his little imps go to the human world and rob an entire Chanel store, to bring me all Chanel Nยฐ5 perfume bottles." how incredulous, Husk thought, staring at the girl flabbergast, speaking of a clear crime, committed in her name. And then, he started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of her statement.
"Angel would kill to have a whole room of Chanel Nยฐ5." he said, his eyes softening as he put his hand over hers. "Y/N... Knowing that you are doing fine... That you aren't suffering... Or anything that I put you through... It makes me... Content."
"My darling." Y/N called out. "Do you remember the day of our wedding?"
"Of course I do. What's that question?"
With a cheeky grin, she took out the picture from her purse, handing it to her beloved. "Alastor was able to find this. His connections truly are amazing." Husk's eyes were wet with falling tears, and his lips were trembling. "I forgot I had pink roses braided in my hair. I was so busy looking at my handsome husband, that everything around me vanished." Husk's sobbing got even louder. "I wanted to frame this picture first, but I couldn't resist showing it to you first."
"Get out, Y/N! Get out!" his voice was broken and raw, so pained that even her heart shattered. "I am not the man you fell in love with. Why do you think my name is 'Husk'? I am just that - A husk of the man I never was. I am not worth anything. I don't amount to anything. I just gamble money I don't have and drink booze until I pass out. I don't deserve a second chance, and I certainly don't deserve you. I never did. I got you killed, damn it!"
"You think too much, you fool." Y/N cupped his face, bringing him into a gentle kiss - A kiss so loving that it numbed his pain, and hightened his senses, that got his heart pumping again and his lungs screaming for air. "I fell in love with you for good reason, and I intend to remain by your side, loving you." she smiled, wiping his tears with her thumb. "You can try as much as you wish to drive me away, but it will not work. You may succeed in convincing yourself that you are a lesser man, but you cannot do that with me. I know the man before me, and I know I will never leave you."
"Y/N..." the man sniffled, burying his face in her bosom, holding so tightly onto her petite body that he almost feared breaking her.
"There was once a time when you would only call me 'Sweety'." her honeyed giggle sounded so teasing, yet it didn't embarrass him. It served only to make him chuckle.
"There was also a time when I would only call you 'Chanel', if you recall." it almost felt as though they were both alive, and during their honey moon, without a single care in the world, and living a most carefree life.
"That does bring back some very amusing memories." Husk hummed in agreement, feeling melancholic, despite the intense joy surging through his body. Perhaps it was due to the unfamiliarity of this positive feeling, that he felt exhausted, or maybe from his excessive crying and whining. Regardless, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in his wife's arms, and never leave this blasted room ever again.
"Can you promise me something?" the man asked. "I am selfish still - Even more so as a demon. I am nothing but filth. I didn't deserve you then, and I deserve you even less now. Still... Now that you're here... I can't let you go again. So..."
Though he found himself eating his words, Y/N only smiled, laying down on the bed and taking him down with her, nestling him comfortably into her loving embrace. "Alastor said you purr like a kitten. I would love to hear that, tonight." she hummed, hearing his annoyed snarl. "And every night going forward, for as long as we may live in this afterlife we have." Husk's body became stiff, frozen with shock. "That is what you wanted me to promise, isn't it? That I will never leave you." he didn't respond. "It is within our wedding vows, silly. There is no way I would walk away, after I have just found my soulmate."
"... Even though I look like... This? And I am irredeemably addicted to gambling and drinking, even more so than before... And I have lost my soul to the Radio Demon? I am stuck doing his bidding for eternity... And..." Y/N only hugged him closer.
"No matter what, in sickness and in death, you and I will still be soulbound." his small body was softly trembling with emotion. "I've got you, my darling. Worry not about anything. I have got you." she remained silent for a little while. "But, Husk..." her voice sounded so distant, so... Melancholic. "Do you... Still like me? The way you did before?"
Startled by her words, Husker jolted up, looking at the pitiful visage of his lover. "What... What do you mean...?"
"My skin is pure white, with no colour, except for my make up. My eyes are black where they should be white, and the worst carmine red, where they should be embodying the aspect of nature. Even my hair looks to be an abnormal colour, and no matter how much I try to dye it, it will not retain its original shade." she gulped, looking away from him. "Any shred of normalcy that I have... Is so tiresome, so much work to keep up, the princessy facade that I used to have, that I used to love... That you used to love..." she sighed softly. "Yet even that completely dissolves as soon as I transform in the monstrous form that I fight so hard to keep veiled from the world."
"Y/N." he caressed her soft face, only to notice small particles of powder latching onto his fur. "I'm a fucking furry mammal with wings. I look like a children's plush toy or somethin'. Meanwhile, you look as doll-like as always, and you're afraid I wouldn't like you anymore? How silly." he sighed, leaning to place a kiss on her forehead. For a few seconds, he stopped to ponder over a rather bold move, and in a split second, he retrieved a wooden box from under his bed. "This is my secret. Nobody has to know about this." he spoke, a rosy tint on his cheeks. "Open it."
Carefully, the girl did as instructed, revealing the content of the box. A bunch of letters were preserved there, all of them neatly placed and handwritten with black ink. "Husk..." Y/N felt the air in her lungs dissipating, as she realised all those letters were recreating the exchange of love words from their time alive. "H-How...?"
"I have all our letters memorised." he chuckled lightly. "I... Needed some way of keeping you close... Of remembering you. I am shit at drawing, but I have a good enough memory... So this was the only way of preserving what we had."
"It's been so long... And yet, you... You still remember... All of it? There must be tens, if not, hundreds of them... How...?" the girl was flabbergast, yet melting completely.
"I read them every night before sleep, when alive, and I read them every night now also." those precious teardrop diamonds caressing her cheeks falling down so gracefully.
๐ผ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“€๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“Œ ๐’ถ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“…๐“…๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ; ๐ผ ๐’น๐’พ๐’น๐“ƒโ€™๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“€ ๐’น๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐“‰๐“‡๐“Š๐‘’; ๐ผ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น๐“ƒโ€™๐“‰ ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“๐“๐“Ž ๐’ท๐‘’๐“๐’พ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’, ๐’ฐ๐“ƒ๐“‰๐’พ๐“ ๐ผ ๐’ป๐’พ๐“ƒ๐’ถ๐“๐“๐“Ž ๐“‚๐‘’๐“‰ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š.
His usual raspy voice sounded so romantic as he recited the love poem he wrote to her. A voice that he only reserved for her. A voice that only she would ever know.
๐ธ๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡๐“Ž ๐’น๐’ถ๐“Ž ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐‘”๐’พ๐“‹๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐“‡๐’พ๐“๐“; ๐’œ๐“๐“ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’น๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐“‡๐’พ๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐“๐“Ž ๐’ป๐“Š๐“๐’ป๐’พ๐“๐“. ๐ผ'๐“‚ ๐’ถ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‚๐“ˆ; ๐’ด๐‘œ๐“Š ๐’ท๐‘’๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‚๐“ˆ; ๐ฟ๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘’; ๐“…๐“๐‘’๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐’ถ๐“Ž ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“๐“.
A love so pure and true, bottomless and without boundaries; Husker himself forgot just how endless his emotions could run. He thought himself jaded and cold, having lost his own heart, the second he lost her... Yet now... Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he first thought. Perhaps... Even someone like himself deserves some kind of redemption.
๐ป๐‘œ๐“๐’น๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ฒ๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‚๐“ˆ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’พ๐“‰๐“ˆ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’. ๐ผ๐“‰โ€™๐“ˆ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‡๐’น ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’พ๐“‚๐’ถ๐‘”๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘’ ๐ป๐‘œ๐“Œ ๐ผ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น ๐“๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’.
Without her, he wasn't whole. Without her, he is not himself. Without her, he is empty. Without her, his whole life falls apart. Without her, he is nothing but a worthless deadbeat.
๐’ฅ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐“๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“€๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐’ข๐’พ๐“‹๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐“‡๐’พ๐“๐“. ๐ผ ๐“๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“Œ, ๐’œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐ผ ๐’ถ๐“๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“Ž๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“๐“.
But now, he is not alone anymore - Well, perhaps he never was to begin with, considering he still had Angel and Charlie, to some extent, yet nothing can compare to sweet Y/N's existence by his side. Nothing can heal his aching soul, or revert the damage he did to himself throughout life and afterlife, the way her love for him did.
โ™ก ~๐“˜ ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ฟ๐“ฎ ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ, ๐“ถ๐”‚ ๐“ผ๐”€๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ ๐“Ÿ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฌ๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ผ~โ™ก
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akumaalert ยท 3 years
Note
not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break
This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!
Good Boy
Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit
CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg
An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.
"Unfh..."
That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.
Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.
"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."
Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.
Comforted...but cautious.
The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.
The knowledge.
The horrible, horrible knowledge.
Love.
Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.
It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.
Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.
Misery otherwise known as Eva.
Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.
Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.
But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.
The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.
The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.
He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.
Won freedom...and her.
"You did it, Heis! You did it!"
Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.
"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."
"...family?"
She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.
Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.
"Our family..."
"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"
In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.
"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."
The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.
Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.
Family...and joy?
Lucky...with him?
Another Heisenberg...alive?
A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.
A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?
First.
As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.
When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.
"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."
Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.
"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."
"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"
"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"
"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"
Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.
But that was before her second moan filled the office.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.
A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.
"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."
Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"
"Mmn?"
"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."
Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"
"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."
He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.
"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"
Heisenberg scoffed.
"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"
Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.
"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."
"Okay...looks like your C7."
"My what now?"
Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."
Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.
Lucky immediately began squirming.
"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."
Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"
"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."
Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.
"Mmn!"
Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.
But the noise could not be ignored.
"What was that?"
"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."
"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.
The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.
"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"
"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."
Above the waist...but below the waist...
"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."
Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?
I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...
The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.
Her response was immediate.
"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.
To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.
Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.
What the hell did she just do to me?
If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.
If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.
If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.
"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."
Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.
"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.
If she looks down...if she sees...
"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.
Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.
Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.
"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."
Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.
Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.
So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.
Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...
What am I? A fucking dog?
...don't answer that.
Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.
He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.
Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.
"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."
A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.
All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.
Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.
The desk.
He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.
"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"
"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.
Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.
"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"
"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."
A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.
"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"
Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.
So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.
"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."
"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."
Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.
"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"
A nod of his head.
"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."
With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.
Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.
Until her.
And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.
Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.
He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.
"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."
"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"
"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"
When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.
Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.
"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."
"Heis..."
"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."
"Like what?"
Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.
"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."
A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.
"Please what?"
"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."
Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.
"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."
Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.
"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."
Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.
Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.
But it was not her. It was not enough.
Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.
Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.
The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.
Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...
The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.
Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?
Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.
But she's not just any assistant...
Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.
"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."
"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."
Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.
"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."
"Yes?"
"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."
"My...my voice?"
"Yes."
Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.
"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."
Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.
"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"
How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.
But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?
He looked away.
"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."
The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.
"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."
"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."
"Can I hold your hand?"
Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.
He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.
When she spoke, it was hushed and low.
For him and him only.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."
Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.
"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."
Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.
"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.
A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.
"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."
A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.
"You don't have to answer now-"
"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."
A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.
She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.
Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.
"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.
Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.
More.
Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.
As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.
That damned schematic.
His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.
Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.
"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."
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desertofsnowflakes ยท 3 years
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Incorrect Order Chapter 6 (Nessian AU)
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A/N: I'm sooo sorry I haven't been updated in more than two weeks. I had exams :/ Also, do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!
Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.
Trigger Warnings: Language
1572 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The smile Cassian plastered on his face didnโ€™t reach his eyes. His brothers saw that. Feyre and Elain saw that. Mor and Amren knew that. He himself did. But they didnโ€™t say anything. If it werenโ€™t Feyreโ€™s anniversary, he wouldโ€™ve even gone home. He couldnโ€™t though. He wouldnโ€™t do anything that would hurt his family. So he stayed. Smiled. Joked. Laughed. Did everything he could to keep his mind from straying to a grey-eyed masterpiece.
Az and Rhys saw, he knew. They always seemed to realise everything about each other. Even if one of them had a minor headache, the other two would know. Tonight, however, none of them pushed him. They probably thought he wanted to be alone. But did he? Truly?
He wasnโ€™t sure. He didnโ€™t want to be alone. That would make memories of their lunch rise. Of her shirt splattered with coffee on one day and blood on another. Of her pale form laying on his bed. Of her, enjoying his food. Of their shared jokes. He didnโ€™t think he could take that.
He wasnโ€™t sure he wanted to be around people either. He didnโ€™t know if he could stay around people who laughed and teased. He didnโ€™t know if he could laugh with them and actually mean it. He didnโ€™t know if he could anytime soon.
Cass glanced at the clock. 3.00 a.m. He smiled. Whenever they gathered around in the living room, retiring early was totally off the table. The earliest they dispersed was four in the morning.
To his right, Rhys sighed. โ€œItโ€™s late,โ€ he said, tucking Feyre close to his side. โ€œGotta go to bed.โ€
He smirked, but held back the joke on the tip of his tongue. After a chorus of goodnights, Rhys and Feyre told them they could stay here tonight if they wanted to and rose to go upstairs. Feyre laughed at something Rhys said and Cass felt a pang of sadness hit him.
Sadnessโ€ฆ and something else. He knew he shouldnโ€™t, but he envied the both of them. How easily they bantered and teased. How smooth their relationship was. He remembered how Feyre locked herself in the cabin after Rhys proposed. He remembered how she asked Mor not to let anyone in, especially Rhys. He sighed. He felt an amount of the jealousy dissipate. Probably Nesta would get together with him after their slight misunderstanding passed. If it did.
He got up to leave when Az stopped him. โ€œYou sure youโ€™re going back?โ€ Cass didnโ€™t remember telling Az that he was going back. Then again he didn't need to. Az always saw everything. โ€œYou're not thatโ€ฆ somber.โ€
Ah. Cass smiled. โ€œI'll be fine, โ€ he reassured. Az still didn't let him go. โ€œI'll send you a text once I'm home,โ€ he tried. Az sighed.
โ€œI'll be waiting for it.โ€
Cass looked at Mor, drunk and blabbering before stepping out of the house. He kept replaying that memory till he reached home, keeping his mind occupied. He was scared of what would happen if he kept his thoughts idle.
He informed Az that he reached home. He didn't know why going back home felt like preparing for a battle. It probably was a battle. Between her and his self-restraint. What was at stake here was his sanity. Cass sighed. He stepped in through the threshold and welcomed the darkness that enveloped him.
***
Stop crying like a baby, Nesta repeatedly reminded herself. Why should she cry? Nothing here was her fault. Nothing.
Not the fact that she let his charmed smiles bring her guards down. Not the fact that she felt alive when he said something stupidly funny. Certainly not the fact that she was slowly falling for him.
None of it was her fault. So why should she cry? Why should she stop herself from attending her own sister's anniversary? When it was all his fault.
She shouldn't be crying. She should be thinking about ways of exploiting his weaknesses. She should think about how she would portray him as the weak one. She should think about how she was going to make him regret everything.
But how could she make him regret it when she never regretted a second of it? She hated that this was where her thoughts went first. To scheming and plotting. She thought she changed. Did she regret her wish to be good? No. She reveled in it. No, she vowed herself, I would not scheme to make him beg. I'm not that Nesta anymore. I'll never be.
She was proud of herself. She never realised her self restraint was this good.
But apparently not good enough. Her thoughts drifted back to him. No, not him. Cassian. Cauldron, it'll take some time to get used to calling him Cassian. Or maybe Cass. Feyre and Rhysand called him that. Probably she would too. She thought about what he called her. Nes. She flushed. That stupid name did stupid things to her. She pretended she didn't like it. In fact, she loved it. Somehow, she wasn't ready to tell him that yet.
***
Nesta blinked open her eyes against the morning light. Her eyes were closed? It was morning already? Huh.
It took her some time for her eyes to adjust. She screamed at what she saw. Nesta scrambled back from the looming figure of Tomas, leering at her face.
โ€œNesta, Nesta, โ€ he said in his eerie voice. It became scarier with his sing-song tone. โ€œMy Nesta.โ€ He paused. โ€œThough I suppose you aren't mine anymore. You were still mine last time, you know. When you handed me over to the police. โ€
She bared her teeth, opened her mouth to say something when his hand closed around her throat.
โ€œBut now, I suppose I can't call you mine anymore, can I? That reminds me. Where is your bodyguard? Or is that brute your boyfriend?โ€ He spat the last word. His hand tightened around her neck.
โ€œDo you know what he did to me? Your bastard. Did you know how he threatened me? Did you know that he smashed my bones, that it took me this long to heal?โ€
Some sort of savage satisfaction filled her. The fact that Cassian did all thisโ€ฆ she smirked. It didn't go unnoticed by Tomas. He growled, the sound sending icy fingers ghosting down her spine. She hoped she didn't have to hear it again.
His hand around her throat pushed her farther back on the bed. He drew back, she let loose a relieved breath. A mistake.
His hand cracked on her cheek. He came infinitely closer to her, his hot, rancid breath glancing off her cheeks. His hand kept tightening around her throat and she wondered how she wasnโ€™t dead yet. It was certainly bruised now.
โ€œLook at you. So vulnerable. So killable. Iโ€™ve imagined how I would slit your throat. So many ideas. If only I could kill you in all the ways I imagined. But do you know what is the best way I could kill you?โ€
Nesta let him talk. He loved to hear himself talk. She subtly looked around her room, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. She looked back at Tomas. He wasnโ€™t talking. Did he ask her a question?
โ€œTell me, Nesta. Do you know what is the best way to kill you?โ€ Nesta shook her head, his hand pressed around her throat. Tomas smiled. She cringed mentally.
โ€œI think the best way to kill you and make it hurt is to kill you slowly. You know what makes it better? Having that bastard watch you die. Let him watch the life seep out of you. And then Iโ€™ll kill him too.โ€ he said and she felt the room closing in. Panic was slowly rising in her.
โ€œNow, now,โ€ he said. She supposed he meant to be cajoling but the effect his voice gave was the exact opposite. โ€œThereโ€™s no need to panic. I told you Iโ€™ll kill you only when your bodyguard is there.โ€
He pulled out a knife. She gasped and pain erupted around her throat. Her lungs were burning.
โ€œBut darling,โ€ he said. She whimpered. She hated this. She hated that she was vulnerable here. She hated that she couldnโ€™t do anything when her death was slowly nearing. โ€œI didnโ€™t say I wouldnโ€™t hurt you.โ€
Then his knife struck. Nothing hurt at first. Then, fiery pain whipped through her, beginning at her arm. She screamed. Pain. There was so much pain. She screamed so loud she pondered how the whole neighborhood didnโ€™t hear anything.
***
Nesta gasped. Her eyes darted through her room. Nothing. No one. She looked at her arm. No pain. No scars. No blood. She touched her throat. It wasnโ€™t sore. It wasnโ€™t swollen. She got out of bed and looked at her mirror. No bruises. She let out a frustrated sound. It was a dream. A fucking dream. Or she supposed it was a nightmare. Still. It wasnโ€™t real.
It was still five in the morning. Still quite early. She released a breath. She wouldnโ€™t find a cab now but she could walk. It wasnโ€™t that far. She fixed her hair and changed her clothes. She wasnโ€™t going because she missed him. She just didnโ€™t want to be vulnerable again. Thatโ€™s all. She just wanted to know how to defend herself. Nothing else. So Nesta went to Cassianโ€™s house, hoping that sheโ€™s making the right choice.
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