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Title: To Be King
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ellerkay
Rating: PG-13 to light R for some sexual and violent imagery
Word count: 1,052
Summary: Hyde was in love with the world.
A/N: This is Hyde POV, set around the beginning of the series. It is dedicated to the wonderfulnevacaruso, who got me into this fandom and convinced me that it needed more fanfic.
***
Hyde was in love with the world.
The first breath was always sweet, no matter where he found himself, and he sucked it in as he raised his eyes, black eyes darting around to examine and enjoy the sights as much as to establish his position. Usually, it was their apartment.
“Hello, nanny,” he’d say, with his most charming, dangerous smile. Katherine would smile back – cool, professional. But not unfriendly; never that.
“Good evening, Mr. Hyde,” she’d reply. Hyde would leap to his feet and bound to the nearest window so he could stare out at his beautiful world.
“It’s a perfect night,” he’d say, no matter what the weather.
“I expect you’ll be going out, then?” Katherine would ask, not really a question, and Hyde would grin wolfishly at her, advancing a couple steps.
“Unless you can think of a way to keep me occupied here?”
“Go out,” she would advise, unafraid. Lights and cameras meant no action, and she wouldn’t flirt back. “It’s your time. Enjoy yourself.”
His grin could, it seemed, get wider. “Oh, I will.”
In a flash he’d be gone, striding down the pavement, taking everything in. And Hyde wanted everything. He’d learned quickly that he got more than most people. His senses were stronger, he could see and hear and smell and taste better that anyone else. Feel, too; his skin was sensitive to slightest shifts in temperature or wind direction, even as it was resistant to cuts and bruises. He could experience more of the world; therefore, he reasoned, the world belonged more to him than to anyone else.
You could say, he thought, I’m king of the world. It made him laugh, which was strange, because he was felt very seriously about his relationship with the planet. Something in Daddy’s memories, and Hyde went with the laughter, even though he didn’t get the joke, because he loved to laugh.
He loved everything, from the darkening sky above his head to the pavement under his feet to the din of traffic on the next street. He loved every woman he passed, loved them so hard he wanted to take them somewhere and undress them and cover every inch of them with his fingers and mouth, taste them, get inside them. Or, just shove them against a wall and fuck them until they screamed, but of course, if he did that they’d start screaming before he meant them to, and then Daddy would stop all his fun and plus that kind of screaming wasn’t really what he wanted anyway, though it might do in a pinch.
And he didn’t just love women, oh, no. Mostly it was women he wanted to fuck, but there were a few faces that had made Hyde think he could make the occasional exception. As king, he felt that it was his duty to try everything he could, and he wished he could have seen Daddy’s face when he woke up next to that pretty young rentboy. The message he’d left for Hyde was stuttering and awkward:
“I noticed a – a difference, in your…[here, a long pause]…partner. I don’t mean to – but, if you have, er, questions, and such, you could always – talk to Katherine, or –”
Hyde fast-forwarded, already bored. He came in again at the end, where Daddy reminded him to use protection, per their agreement. He hit record.
“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’m not turning queer on you. Just a little experiment. But tell me, why the reminder about safety? Never happens when you wake up next to a female hooker. Seems a tad homophobic, and you know what they say about homophobes, don’t you, Daddy?”
So, despite the rare deviation, Hyde didn’t want to fuck men. But he them loved so much that he wanted to hurt them, punch them or kick them or slice them up with one of his beloved knives. Snap their bones with his hands, rip them open with his teeth, taste their blood on his tongue. He wanted to see what they looked like on the inside. Would they beg? Cry? Scream? Remain stoically silent? Fight back, give in? What would they look like?
It was because Hyde loved the world and everything in it (alcohol, chips, sweets, driving, stores, animals, people, soot, everything EVERYTHING) and because he knew it belonged to him that he hated giving up his body, and it was why he’d agreed to broker a deal, like Daddy wanted to.
Because at first, he’d refused. Night was his time and he could do whatever he pleased. And then he’d woken up in the chair.
All his considerable strength couldn’t free him from the restraints and although he pushed and pulled and pressed against that sleeping thing in his head that was Daddy, he couldn’t discover the combination. He screamed and squirmed and felt like he would crawl out of his skin. Everything was waiting for him, and he was missing it! He screamed until he was hoarse, the only way he could punish his cruel father, for now.
The only thing he’d been left was the recorder, and he didn’t even bother listening to Daddy’s message, instead filling it with volleys of abuse, for hours, until it beeped full and Hyde strained against the restraints and screamed again until the sun started to come up and he fell asleep, far more exhausted than he’d ever been after an evening of whirlwind activity. Just before he nodded off, he deleted the night’s ravings. “Okay, Daddy, let’s talk,” he whispered raggedly.
Things were livable, as they were. Good, even. Hyde twirled in delight at being free and out and about, and came to rest against the brick wall of his favorite pub, lighting a cigarette before he went in. Wouldn’t Daddy be angry if he knew about the smoking! Hyde exhaled and giggled. But then, Daddy wouldn’t be around much longer. Hyde could tell, and Daddy had no idea, not yet. Hyde could feel him getting weaker every time they switched. And then? And then, he would have the world, and the day, and everything he wanted, all the time.
He took another deep drag and blew it out with a grin and a glint in his eye, winking at a passing redhead.
“Oh, I just can’t wait…” he sang under his breath.
***
Afterword: For a good time, go listen to "I Just Can't Wait To Be King" and imagine Hyde singing Simba's part and Tom singing Zazu's. It's hilarious and super creepy.
Author:
ellerkayRating: PG-13 to light R for some sexual and violent imagery
Word count: 1,052
Summary: Hyde was in love with the world.
A/N: This is Hyde POV, set around the beginning of the series. It is dedicated to the wonderful
nevacaruso, who got me into this fandom and convinced me that it needed more fanfic.***
Hyde was in love with the world.
The first breath was always sweet, no matter where he found himself, and he sucked it in as he raised his eyes, black eyes darting around to examine and enjoy the sights as much as to establish his position. Usually, it was their apartment.
“Hello, nanny,” he’d say, with his most charming, dangerous smile. Katherine would smile back – cool, professional. But not unfriendly; never that.
“Good evening, Mr. Hyde,” she’d reply. Hyde would leap to his feet and bound to the nearest window so he could stare out at his beautiful world.
“It’s a perfect night,” he’d say, no matter what the weather.
“I expect you’ll be going out, then?” Katherine would ask, not really a question, and Hyde would grin wolfishly at her, advancing a couple steps.
“Unless you can think of a way to keep me occupied here?”
“Go out,” she would advise, unafraid. Lights and cameras meant no action, and she wouldn’t flirt back. “It’s your time. Enjoy yourself.”
His grin could, it seemed, get wider. “Oh, I will.”
In a flash he’d be gone, striding down the pavement, taking everything in. And Hyde wanted everything. He’d learned quickly that he got more than most people. His senses were stronger, he could see and hear and smell and taste better that anyone else. Feel, too; his skin was sensitive to slightest shifts in temperature or wind direction, even as it was resistant to cuts and bruises. He could experience more of the world; therefore, he reasoned, the world belonged more to him than to anyone else.
You could say, he thought, I’m king of the world. It made him laugh, which was strange, because he was felt very seriously about his relationship with the planet. Something in Daddy’s memories, and Hyde went with the laughter, even though he didn’t get the joke, because he loved to laugh.
He loved everything, from the darkening sky above his head to the pavement under his feet to the din of traffic on the next street. He loved every woman he passed, loved them so hard he wanted to take them somewhere and undress them and cover every inch of them with his fingers and mouth, taste them, get inside them. Or, just shove them against a wall and fuck them until they screamed, but of course, if he did that they’d start screaming before he meant them to, and then Daddy would stop all his fun and plus that kind of screaming wasn’t really what he wanted anyway, though it might do in a pinch.
And he didn’t just love women, oh, no. Mostly it was women he wanted to fuck, but there were a few faces that had made Hyde think he could make the occasional exception. As king, he felt that it was his duty to try everything he could, and he wished he could have seen Daddy’s face when he woke up next to that pretty young rentboy. The message he’d left for Hyde was stuttering and awkward:
“I noticed a – a difference, in your…[here, a long pause]…partner. I don’t mean to – but, if you have, er, questions, and such, you could always – talk to Katherine, or –”
Hyde fast-forwarded, already bored. He came in again at the end, where Daddy reminded him to use protection, per their agreement. He hit record.
“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’m not turning queer on you. Just a little experiment. But tell me, why the reminder about safety? Never happens when you wake up next to a female hooker. Seems a tad homophobic, and you know what they say about homophobes, don’t you, Daddy?”
So, despite the rare deviation, Hyde didn’t want to fuck men. But he them loved so much that he wanted to hurt them, punch them or kick them or slice them up with one of his beloved knives. Snap their bones with his hands, rip them open with his teeth, taste their blood on his tongue. He wanted to see what they looked like on the inside. Would they beg? Cry? Scream? Remain stoically silent? Fight back, give in? What would they look like?
It was because Hyde loved the world and everything in it (alcohol, chips, sweets, driving, stores, animals, people, soot, everything EVERYTHING) and because he knew it belonged to him that he hated giving up his body, and it was why he’d agreed to broker a deal, like Daddy wanted to.
Because at first, he’d refused. Night was his time and he could do whatever he pleased. And then he’d woken up in the chair.
All his considerable strength couldn’t free him from the restraints and although he pushed and pulled and pressed against that sleeping thing in his head that was Daddy, he couldn’t discover the combination. He screamed and squirmed and felt like he would crawl out of his skin. Everything was waiting for him, and he was missing it! He screamed until he was hoarse, the only way he could punish his cruel father, for now.
The only thing he’d been left was the recorder, and he didn’t even bother listening to Daddy’s message, instead filling it with volleys of abuse, for hours, until it beeped full and Hyde strained against the restraints and screamed again until the sun started to come up and he fell asleep, far more exhausted than he’d ever been after an evening of whirlwind activity. Just before he nodded off, he deleted the night’s ravings. “Okay, Daddy, let’s talk,” he whispered raggedly.
Things were livable, as they were. Good, even. Hyde twirled in delight at being free and out and about, and came to rest against the brick wall of his favorite pub, lighting a cigarette before he went in. Wouldn’t Daddy be angry if he knew about the smoking! Hyde exhaled and giggled. But then, Daddy wouldn’t be around much longer. Hyde could tell, and Daddy had no idea, not yet. Hyde could feel him getting weaker every time they switched. And then? And then, he would have the world, and the day, and everything he wanted, all the time.
He took another deep drag and blew it out with a grin and a glint in his eye, winking at a passing redhead.
“Oh, I just can’t wait…” he sang under his breath.
***
Afterword: For a good time, go listen to "I Just Can't Wait To Be King" and imagine Hyde singing Simba's part and Tom singing Zazu's. It's hilarious and super creepy.