#﹠ . ⁺ ❛ ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ﹠ ᴀᴍᴇʟɪᴀ. ─── verse. 𐕣

[bloodstainedbible]

@malumxsubest said: “ i met him in the graveyard. isn't that awfully cliché? ” @ jonathan ( she totally has her victim all tied up and suspended from the ceiling? talk about hot. )

jonathan’s grin widened into something wicked, his dark gaze roaming over the suspended form before him. he tilted his head, studying her handiwork with genuine appreciation. “you’ve outdone yourself,” he murmured, his voice carrying a dangerous edge of amusement as he stepped closer.

the dim light cast sharp shadows over the room, emphasizing the tension in the ropes, the rise and fall of the victim’s shallow breaths. jonathan’s fingers brushed against the taut cords, testing their strength, his touch deliberate and slow. “perfectly tied,” he mused, more to himself than to her, his tone rich with approval. “you really know how to make an impression.”

he circled the scene, his footsteps soft yet deliberate, the blade in his hand catching the faint light as he moved. “it’s almost art, isn’t it?” he continued, his gaze flickering back to her with a twisted glint of admiration. “the way the ropes cut into the skin just so. the helplessness. the surrender. it’s… intimate.”

jonathan stopped directly in front of the victim, crouching slightly to meet their panicked gaze. his grin widened, and he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “you must’ve been so excited, letting her do this to you. and now…” he glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes gleaming. “well, now it’s her turn to really shine.”

[bloodstainedbible]

" what the hell did you do ; tap - dance all over the body with ice - skates ? " @ jonathan ( I'm dead 🤭 she's like super exasperated too. like, " what a mess 😒 " )

* @malumxsubest. ╱ prompt.

↪️ │ accepting.

jonathan tilted his head, the faintest flicker of amusement tugging at his lips. he crouched down near the mess he��d left behind, his fingers ghosting over the bloodstained floor as if admiring a piece of art. he didn’t answer right away, letting the weight of the question settle between them. when he finally spoke, his tone was laced with dry humor, yet his eyes remained dark, unyielding.

“tap-dance?” he mused, glancing up at her. “now, that’s an image. i’ll admit, it’s creative. but no—ice skates are too cumbersome. too messy. this… well, this was precision. every stroke intentional, every mark purposeful. think of it as choreography, but instead of music, i worked with screams.”

he straightened, brushing nonexistent dust off his hands, his gaze never leaving hers. “you disapprove?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp, dissecting every reaction she gave. “or are you just impressed i managed to make it look this… theatrical?”

jonathan took a step closer, a subtle smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “i don’t just kill, darling,” he added in a conspiratorial whisper. “i create. some call it madness. i prefer to call it… expression.”