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had a dream that scaramouche/wanderer (really, either era works) dropped a diss track on the fatui but it was just not like us (without the slurs)
“say, dottore, i hear you like ‘em young.”
“certified rooster boy? (pulcinella) certified pedophile-“
“You’re drunk,” the villain said, voice tinted with surprise.
The hero hiccuped.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No—wait, why are you here?”
The villain laughed.
“Someone told me a party was going on, and that I should crash it. I didn’t expect it to be yours.”
The hero blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears.
“Not really mine any more. So if you had any reservations about crashing…”
The villain arched a brow, and sat down on the slightly damp grass across from the hero.
“Are you saying you want me to crash your party?”
“Not my party.”
The villain tugged out a piece of grass.
“Why isn’t it your party anymore.”
“It just isn’t,” the hero said around a sob.
The villain studied them, too observant, too seeing.
“Does this have anything to do with you being drunk?”
The hero hiccuped again. “No.”
The villain hummed.
“I thought you had a problem with alcohol. Because of your—“
The hero stuck their hand out, pressing a finger to the villain’s lips.
“Can we not?”
The villain had the audacity to smile.
“Stop smiling.”
The villain obliged.
“Did you…did you want to get drunk?”
The hero didn’t answer, and the villain stiffened. Their eye caught on the empty solo cup, abandoned on the grass beside them.
“Please—and I mean this in every sense of the word—tell me that those ‘friends’ of yours did not spike your drink.”
The hero shrugged, noncommittally.
“They just wanted me to relax. Have fun. It isn’t their fault.”
When they looked up again, the villain was seething.
“They drugged you.”
“That sounds so bad—“
“Did you give consent?” The villain’s face was carved from stone.
“I—they wanted me to relax.”
“That’s a no.” The villain grabbed the hero’s chin. “If it isn’t an enthusiastic yes, it’s a no.”
The hero moved their head from the villain’s hand.
“It’s fine.”
“It isn’t.”
The hero looked back at the villain. The villain sighed.
“You’re even more stubborn when you’re drunk.”
Ridiculously, the hero smiled.
A moment later, the villain held out their hand.
“Come on. Let’s go get you some better friends—these ones are trash.”
The hero blinked uncertainly. They shot a glance back at the house, humming with music, and laughter, and light. The hero doubted their friends—their ex friends—had even noticed they were gone.
They took the villain’s hand.
“As long as they aren’t douchebags.”
The villain laughed. God, they had a nice laugh, and led the hero away, down the street, and kept holding their hand the whole time.
The only friend the hero ended up making that night was the villain.
And in the end, they were the only friend that mattered.
i do think people who separate walt and heisenberg are so weird to me because in my head heisenberg is more a symbol than what walt is
heisenberg is simply how he will be remembered and seen but there isnt any line. even in season 5 where a lot of people think 'heisenberg' has taken over there is a scene while saul and walt are in the disappearing guys bunker where walt tries to do the 'this ends when i say it does' but he fails because he ends up coughing
throughout the show while walt looses his morals he never truly 'becomes heisenberg'
Qwydion, what a cutie!! 💛