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unseededtoast · 9 months ago

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Seven

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"When they return, I'll be waiting for them."

The eerie silence of the night amplifies every little noise. Joel managed to fall asleep about an hour ago, and each time he moves or readjusts, fear strikes me. For some reason, my mind is convinced that more infected are in here, when I know they're not. If they were, they would have made themselves known by now.

Looking back out of the window, I readjust the way I'm sitting because my legs have gone numb. My eyes burn from forcing myself to stay awake, but each time I close my eyes I'm haunted by images of the dead children. I tap my fingertips on the floor as I keep close eye on the horizon, looking for anything to signify life. My chest rises and falls dramatically as I sigh in frustration and disappointment.

Standing from the ground, I pace around the small corner I've confined myself to for Joel's comfort. I knew that he'd never let himself be lulled to sleep if I stayed close, he seems to be well guarded and generally untrusting. So I was surprised when I glanced over and saw his eyes closed and head leaned against the wall a few hours ago. Only the muffled sound of my boots hitting the floor can be heard, and I'm sure it's not loud enough to wake him.

My mind begins working through different scenarios once more. Like what is my next move if the killers don't start a fire tonight? How am I going to determine which way to go? I can't just guess at it, that would be a massive waste of time and would put me in unnecessary danger. My eyes drift back to the large windows on the wall, wishing and hoping that I'd finally see something. Each time I look and see nothing, a small part of my strong resolve dissolves.

Yawning, I find my fingers fiddling with my necklace, trying to keep myself inspired to stay here and see this through instead of feeding into my disappointment and going back to the QZ.

"Why don't we trade off?" Joel's voice startles me. My body jumps involuntarily at the unexpected sound and I look over to him, the moonlight illuminating half of his face. Once my heartbeat has settled to a semi-regular pace, I shake my head,

"No that's okay. You get more sleep, I'll be just fine." My voice is rough from staying silent for so long. Joel looks out the window.

"You haven't slept all night. You really think you can keep goin' like this?" His voice is deep and quiet, his dark eyes meet mine through the shadows. A part of me knows he's right, I can't keep functioning at my fullest capacity with limited sleep.

"I'm gonna have to." I say, my words betraying what I know is right. For some reason, I know I would feel bad if I took him up on his offer. This isn't his fight, he shouldn't have to stay awake for my sake. He shakes his head,

"You say that 'til you're face to face with death because your judgment is impaired and you make a simple mistake." It almost sounds like he's speaking from experience. I walk closer to him so that our voices can stay quiet, just in case there is something lurking around in here that we didn't see.

"But that won't be on you. And besides, this was my idea, I can't pass off my responsibility to you. You'll need the rest for your trip." I say, tucking my necklace back underneath my shirt. He stares at me for a long while, like he's trying to figure me out.

"Who are you after?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders,

"I don't know. Well, you heard what I said back at James' place, three kids were killed. They were all assaulted and mutilated. One of them died in my arms. And I had even checked that area not fifteen minutes earlier." My voice trails off as I remember the poor girl's last breaths and her blood smearing on my arms as she grasped at them for help. My gaze finds its way down to the ground and I blink away the tears.

"Who were those kids to you?" He asks, his voice sounding softer than it was a few minutes ago. I pick my eyes back up and stare straight ahead out at the city.

"I didn't know them. But nobody deserves that end, especially not kids." I say and turn my head to look at him. He just nods.

"Sleep. I'll look for them." He says and stands from his position on the ground. I shake my head and cross my arms, prepared to stand my ground on this one. I'm not sure why I'm so concerned with this stranger's wellbeing, but I can't find it in myself to be selfish and accept his offer.

"No it's oka-"

"No. Sleep. You'll need the energy." He doesn't let me finish my sentence before he turns his back on me and goes to look out the window.

I take his spot up against the wall, and lean my head back. If he's so insistent on it, then I guess I shouldn't fight it. He knows his capabilities and it's not my job to take care of him. My eyes close and the silence welcomes me to sleep quickly, maybe I needed this more than I thought.

"Hey." A shove on my shoulder wakes me and my eyes fly open. Quickly, I look around, not recognizing my surroundings. I find Joel's face above me, he's standing right beside me and must have nudged my shoulder with his leg.

"What?" I ask, suddenly alert and aware of where I am. I stand from my spot and follow him over to the window, where he presses a finger to the glass, pointing off in the distance. I follow his finger and see what I've been looking for all night. A plume of black smoke is rising to the sky.

My jaw sets tight as I watch the smoke dissipate in the air. The rising sun is visible on the horizon, I must have been out for a few hours. My arms cross in front of my chest and I make note of where it's coming from, and what streets I need to take to get there. If I leave now, there's a good chance I'll be able to reach them before they abandon their camp.

Turning away from Joel, I grab my backpack that I had put in my corner last night. I shrug it over my shoulders and tighten the straps so that the weight is evenly distributed. My boots feel like they might be getting a touch loose, so I bend down and tighten the laces. Once I'm sure I'm ready to leave, I take a centering breath and go over to Joel and extend a hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I say with a small smile, appreciating his willingness to stay with me. He looks down at my hand and back out the window.

"The smoke was to the west, the way I'm headed back home." Is all he says and I awkwardly drop my hand back down to my side. My eyebrows scrunch together, not entirely understanding what he's implying.

"You could go around, might add a mile or two to your trip though." I say, glancing back at the smoke plume. Joel takes a moment to look back out at the smoke before he nods his head and holds his hand out. I take it and give him the firmest handshake I can.

The two of us turn and make our way back down to the street, the sun quickly rising in the sky. If I can pull this off well, I might even be back home before sundown. Off in the distance, I can still see the smoke. Joel and I turn to one another before we part our ways.

"Stay safe out there." I say with a small smile, hoping that his trip is uninterrupted and goes well for him. He's probably got a family waiting for him, and they deserve to have him back. He gives me a curt nod,

"Good luck." Is all he says before we embark on our separate journeys.

I begin walking towards the smoke and try to get into a fighter's mindset. It's not only the people I have to worry about out here on the streets. I push every other thought out of my mind and try to get back into the headspace I had years ago when I had to fight the infected every day on patrols. They're quick and they're strong. So, I have to be quicker and smarter if I want to live. The same goes for dealing with the killers.

My stomach twists the closer I get to the smoke. I don't like that I'm essentially going in blind, who knows how many there are. It would be in my best interest to try and pull this off stealthily. If I can find some sort of vantage point before I get too close to scope out the camp that would be best. It would be really nice if I had a rifle with me, then I could find somewhere up high to camp out and take them out like that. But unfortunately, rifles are very difficult to find nowadays, even more so now that the arms trade has slowed in Boston.

I keep moving forward until I find myself close enough to the smoke where I can smell it. Taking a look around, I find an old store off to the right where I should be able to get a good angle on their camp. Swiftly and quietly, I make my way to the store with no interruptions and carefully step through the broken glass door. I'm careful to keep my footsteps level and close to the ground, so that the glass shards don't make too much noise.

The store looks like it had been ransacked years ago, and is now a mess of tipped shelves and useless products. As I make my way to the back of the store, I look at the discarded items, making sure there's nothing of use that I can grab. But it looks like all that remains are empty boxes and various electronics. Nothing that I can immediately use to my advantage. The back of the store houses the roof access point and I climb the ladder, pushing the entrance open with a small squeak.

Sunlight blinds me as I step out onto the roof and I quickly crouch down so that any wandering eyes won't be able to spot me. From my vantage point, I see a small camp. There's one tent set up and a smoldering fire in the center, billowing white smoke now that it has been put out. Squinting my eyes, I see one person standing around. But nobody else.

My blood runs cold, that has to be the killer. Or at least one of them. Maybe the other one is off patrolling the area or something. If I can go take that one out, then the other should be no problem. However, it all seems too simple, too easy. Something just doesn't feel right to me. But, maybe I'm just overthinking this and it really is going to be this simple.

I wait for a few more minutes before I leave the rooftop, just to be sure nobody else is going to show up. I don't hear anyone in the distance, so I have to guess that the coast is clear, or at least will be clear enough for me to get down there and take down the person I saw.

I stay crouched as I make my way to the camp, grabbing the curved blade out of my belt and holding it tightly in my hand. All of my focus is on staying quiet and making smart moves. My mouth goes dry as I approach the edge of the camp. Hiding behind a building, I peek out to make sure nobody else somehow showed up.

The same person is standing by their tent with their back facing me. It strikes me as odd, but maybe they got their hands on some pills and are too spaced out to know what's going on. Before I leave my cover behind the building, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer with shaky breaths.

My eyes open and I'm focused on one thing only. To kill the man that stands a few feet from me. I turn the corner and take calculated steps, avoiding debris on the ground. My breath is silent, but my heartbeat sounds incredibly loud. The man isn't turning around, he's standing oddly still and it sends a familiar panic through my body.

I freeze in my tracks as my boot steps on a rogue twig, probably meant to fuel the fire but never got used. Within the blink of an eye, the man turns around and it doesn't take me long to register that he's not alive, well, not humanly. The man's reanimated body screams out and runs toward me, hands outreached to grab me.

I dodge his swing and plunge my knife towards his head. The recently-turned man is fast, and my knife only catches a few inches of his throat. I don't have enough time to react to the missed slash before I'm tackled to the ground, the man's teeth inch closer and closer to my neck as I try to fight him off.

My panic somehow makes me more focused, and old maneuvers feel like muscle memory. I bring my knee up and hit the man, throwing off the equilibrium so I can get the upper hand. As he's thrown off balance, I use the momentum from my kick to bring my body above his, my hips straddling his torso. Without thinking, I raise my knife and bring it down into the man's head. His body goes limp and twitches as he dies once again.

Blood splatters my hands and forearms as I pull the knife from the man's skull. I use the man's green shirt to clean my blade and then I stand from the ground, looking down at the corpse. He looks recently turned, maybe a few hours old at this point. Turning around, I look for any more runners that may have been tipped off to the struggle, but find nothing except empty streets and silence.

Taking advantage of an empty camp, I start rummaging around for anything they left behind. I check the man's pockets first, finding nothing but an old cigarette. Next, I search the tent and find an old map shoved underneath the sleeping bag. Unfolding the map, I see several marks on it.

The Boston QZ is circled, and I see a few other cities with the same circle. Other places are marked with the Firefly symbol. Sprinkled throughout the country there are some areas marked with stars. One location is marked with a large 'T'. There's no indication of what these symbols mean, but I can deduce some things from common sense. I can only guess that the circles represent QZ areas and the Firefly symbol is where known Firefly outposts are; that much is fairly obvious. The T might represent where these people came from, but it's all the way out in Nebraska. As for the stars, I don't have the faintest idea.

I fold the map up and put it in my bag to study later once I'm not out in the open. The rest of the tent holds nothing of value to me and so I move out and check the fire. There are scraps of paper in there mixed with twigs. Reaching in, I grab the largest scraps I can find, and see that there's only a few legible words left on each. The one scrap says "eliminate" and the other says "immune".

Moving on and not dwelling on what those words might mean, I tear apart the rest of the camp to look for anything useful. Beside the fire there's a second sleeping bag and I reach my hand down in it, pulling out another piece of paper. These people love writing notes to one another it seems.

The words on the paper are a lot more useful than the scraps I found in the fire. I read it quickly and read it a second time, not believing what I'm seeing. The note is almost like an instruction guide. It tells whoever was here what their mission was. It looks like their mission was to hit all the QZ's in the northeastern part of the United States and kill children between the ages of thirteen and seventeen indiscriminately. It doesn't say why, but on the bottom of the paper the Firefly logo is drawn.

I put the paper in my bag along with the scraps and map. What do the Fireflies have to do with this? Going back to the man's body, I look for the telltale sign of the Fireflies, but see no pendant around the man's neck. But what I do find is the letter 'T' carved into the skin of his chest.

Making sure there's nothing else to find in the camp, I move on so that if someone does come by I'm not caught off guard. I return to the store rooftop to monitor the camp some more. If someone does come back, they'll need to be killed for their involvement as well. Nobody is going to be spared from this group if I can help it.

The sunlight begins fading, and it's becoming abundantly clear to me that nobody is coming back to this camp. Infected probably came by and they scrambled, leaving their friend to his undead fate.

Back on the move, I decide to go west. I know there's more of these people out here and if I'm right about the map, they might be going back to where they came from in Nebraska. And even if they aren't going there now, they will eventually. And when they return, I'll be waiting for them.

Part Eight

#joel miller #joel #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal

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glambots · 3 years ago

Note

Your headcanons and fanfic writings are just…mwuah🤌✨

I’d like to request a scenario for the four Glamrock babes!

Swole AF crush is Night Security who originally had the day shift, but due to their crippling insomnia, switched to the night shift (sense they’re exhausted all day, but wide awake at night).

Their sleep cycle wouldn’t do a complete 180 to where their insomnia effects them during the day, right?…right? Wrong.

On an especially bad day of zero sleep and a night shift stretching on until 6 am, crush, to their unfortunate luck, is assigned camera duty.

Somewhere else, Glamrock babe realizes they didn’t greet their favorite security guard before their shift! They clamber their way up to the security office, thrilled that their favorite little guard was here for the night and about to express that excitement with a loud, and happy hello—immediately cutting themselves off when they find their crush’s face plastered to the keyboard, dead asleep.

Crush has evident dark circles dug under their eyes, and looks obviously uncomfortable all crunched up at the bulky desk.

Glamrock’s initial reactions and what they would do to make their sleep-deprived crush a little more comfortable?

(Sorry for the long buildup! Writer problems! 😅)

🎩Glamrock-Freddy + "Finding His Crush Asleep:" 🎩

He's never seen you asleep before. But...that can't possibly be comfortable. He knows he should wake you up--you are supposed to be on-duty, after all. However, that would probably just make things worse. You can't do be at one-hundred percent if you're on the verge of constantly falling asleep! Plus, you look so peaceful. He's sure it wouldn't hurt to let you rest, just this once. But first, he's going to find a nice blanket and pillow--maybe with his face on them--before he leaves, to let you rest a bit more comfortably.

🐊Montgomery Gator + "Finding His Crush Asleep:"🐊

He's torn between wanting to scare you awake and/or drawing on your face while you're sleeping. But he decides against both once he takes in just how miserable you look right now. Jeez, do you sleep at all? For a while he just stands there, pondering whether or not to try and make you more comfortable. On one-hand: yeesh, desperate times, huh? On the other: if you woke up, he'd never hear the end of it. Uggghhhhh--eventually he just throws a Monty-themed blanket over you and storms off to go pout in his room.

🍕Glamrock-Chica + "Finding Her Crush Asleep:"🍕

She comes bouncing into your office, practically shouting your name--only to stop short once she sees you asleep. Ohhhh, you look...! She wants to say "cute," but...mm, that can't feel very nice. Good thing she knows just the solution! When you wake up, you are absolutely cushioned in Chica-themed merch: blankets, pillows, and even a tiny plush tucked into your folded arms. She's sitting across from you, doodling in one of her journals and humming to herself. Hey! You're awake! Sleep well?

🐺Roxanne Wolf + "Finding Her Crush Asleep:"🐺

Hey, loser, it's about time you showed up--! Oh. You're asleep. Ugh, seriously? You couldn't even stay awake long enough to tell her hi? \(She's half-kidding. And also talking aloud to herself, as you continue to sleep.) Jeez, you'll sleep anywhere, won't you? You're lucky she...tolerates you, or else you'd wake up with doodles all over your face. Instead, you wake up gently tucked in a Roxy-themed blanket, with said mascot idly doing her nails as she sits across from you. About time you woke up.

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violetjedisylveon · 2 years ago

Text

Intruder

Summary: Eda stumbles upon an unknown Island and meets a powerful kid she assumes to be an orphan raising their brother. With some insitance from a certain annoying bird brain, she slowly starts to build up trust between herself and the orphaned Collector.

Word count: 6.4k (totally didn't forget this)

Warnings: Swearing, manipulation, child abuse, trauma, denial, sick kid.

A/N: a 3/4 baked fic for a 3/4 baked AU! The Collector is a traumatized baby now, you're welcome.

He Hatched (art/AU explination), Eda raises two gods AU here. Ao3 link here.

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Someone was on the island.

There was a stranger.

They sat up and checked on their brother, he was sleeping soundly. He was a heavy sleeper. That was good.

They picked him up gently and carried him over to his little hidey hole, placing him securely in the soft fabric of their hat. He liked sleeping in their hat.

They scratched between his horns and he cooed softly. They chuckled, he was so cute.

They left him sleeping while they went to check out the intruder.

The Guard was making it's rounds. It must not have detected the threat yet.

Small rocks fell far ahead. Cursing followed, sounds echoing through the empty stone halls.

They snuck closer, flying so as not to alert the intruder to their presence.

They caught a glimpse of orange near the entrance. There was someone in their home.

"Who's there?!"

They backed out of the sudden beam of light shot towards them. They didn't like others in their home.

"Go away." They called out.

The light swivled towards them, they covered their eyes and hissed.

"Wha- you're a kid! What are you doing here?" The stranger asked.

They backed out of the brightness and got a better look at the stranger.

She was a witch, she had fluffy short orange hair, was wearing a lot a red, had an owl staff, and somehow had a familiar presence.

"I live here with my baby brother, we're waiting for Dad to come back." They said.

Dad is coming back! He is, he is! He's not the Isles, he's not! Philip lied. He's a liar, liar pant on fire! Dad's coming for us! He pinky promised! They swore to themself.

The witch gave him a sympathetic look, pity. They didn't like pity, they didn't want it.

"Go please, you'll wake my brother, then he'll be upset and I'll be upset." They told the witch.

"It's raining, kid, I can't do that." The witch gestured outside at the rain.

They cocked their head to the side.

"I can go in rain. Dad can too. What's wrong with you?" They asked.

"Your pop must have one hell of a protection spell." The witch chuckled.

"Protection spell? No, no, I don't need that." They shook their head.

The witch gave him another strange look.

"You are a weird kid, aren't you?" She prompted.

"Rude." They stuck their tounge out.

The witch did it back.

"I'll help you go." They said.

The witch was from the Isles, they could send her there easily.

"Bye." They snapped their fingers and she was gone.

The island was safe.

He was safe.

He would always be safe here.

XXX

Eda ignored the persistent itch in her mind to the best of her ability. The Owl Beast had been rearing it's ugly head ever since she found the island with that strange kid on it.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit concerned about them, they were young, about eight she'd say, and they had a baby brother, and they were living on an isolated, remote island in the middle of nowhere.

The kid had gotten her back to the Isles with just a snap of their fingers, whatever they were, they were insanely powerful.

Maybe that's why they're hiding. Most dangerous, powerful demons have gone into hiding since Belos took over. Maybe it's better to leave this alone. She thought.

The Owl Beast scratched at the mental wall between them, surfacing again. Shit, the bird brain was getting annoying.

That kid's dad probably isn't coming back. She sighed.

It was a very high likelyhood that the kid's dad was dead somewhere. She could only assume that they had no other parent as she would've seen them instead of the kid.

The Owl Beast barked at her. She groaned and set down the human toy she was fixing to sell at the markets. Three days of dealing with the bird brain had drained her patience.

"Alright, what do you want me to do about it?" She asked rhetorically.

She certainly had not been expecting an answer.

"Feed, warm, safe." The voice was raspy and sore sounding.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. The Owl Beast, the vicious, wild animal living in her head wantes her to feed and take care of some random kid?!

"How am I supposed to do that Bird brain?! I don't even know how to find that island! It popped up out of nowhere!" She shouted.

Titan, she must look crazy, just a crazed witch, pacing her living room and talking to herself.

"Know it, I'll find." The beast said.

"Whoa, slow down, you'll guide, not find." She said.

"So we go?" The energy in her head almost felt like a puppy begging to go out on a walk.

Eda slouched down onto the couch, she was tired and if this could make the stupid thing shut up, it might as well be worth the try.

"If we go, will you shut up?" She asked.

She could almost see the smirk on the stupid bird's face.

"Ugh, you're gonna kill me, bird brain." She grumbled.

XXX

The witch was back. She had a big bag today, it wasn't raining.

They stuck close to the shadows, watching her scan the entrance to their home, the crumbling building gave plenty of places to hide.

"Hey kid, are you here?! I've got some, I dunno, they're snacks for most demons, maybe you'll like it?" The witch called out.

She sat down on the ground and started laying the objects in her bag out. There was food there, he needed food, he couldn't go nearly as long as they could without food. And toys and something soft.

Maybe a little peek wouldn't hurt.

They snuck closer and grabbed the nearest object. It was a big round fruit with a tough skin. They'd had it before. Their stomach rumbled with three hundred years of hunger.

They tore into the tough flesh, sweet juices washed over their tounge as they ripped out a large chunk. They swallowed quickly, barely chewing it. Their stomach eagerly accepted the food, it'd been so long since they'd eaten!

Half way through the fruit, a chunk got stuck in their throat. They gagged and coughed until it was dislodged and they spat it out.

"Whoa, slow down, there's plenty of snacks, you don't need to eat so fast." The witch warned them.

Wait. How long had they been sitting out in the open? Had they not thought to retreat after claiming their meal? Foolish.

They eyed the witch with distrust. She didn't seem like a liar, but neither had Philip at first.

They edged away from her, holding their food close to their body.

"I'm not gonna take it, I brought it for you." She told him.

She picked up a crab apple that had been set out and started eating it. Determining she wasn't a threat, yet, they sat back down to keep eating.

When they were done, they found another of the same fruit had been rolled over to them. They snatched it up and ate.

"I take it you like Blossom Bat fruit?" The witch guessed.

"Blothom Bat fruit?" They echoed around a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, that's a Blossom Bat fruit, blossom bats really like them so it got named after them I guess." She shrugged.

"They're pretty easy to find and cheap, I always have some around the house." She said.

"Mmm." They nodded.

They'd never known what it was called, just that they liked it. He would like it too.

"How did you find us?" They asked.

"Got some help from an annoying little bird." The witch pointed to her head.

They didn't know what that meant.

"I brought some stuff I figured kids would need or like, just in case you wanted it." She told them.

They nodded again. There was a dead jackalope sitting near them.

"Did you catch and stuff that yourself?" They asked, pointing to it.

"Uh, no. Why would I give a kid a stuffed dead body? That is a plushie." She said, looking slightly horrified.

"Plushie?" They tilted their head slightly.

"Do you not know what that is?" She asked.

They shook their head 'no'.

"Oh. Well, it's a soft toy made from fabric, this one's made from some real fuzzy and tough fabric, and then filled with stuffing, it's this soft fluffy white stuff that makes it squeezable and soft. So it's a toy. A lot of people sleep with them cause they're so soft." She explained.

They examined the jackalope plushie for a few seconds, then reached over and picked it up. It was very soft, it felt nice on their fingers, it was very lightweight and it smelled good.

"You can have that if you want, I'll see if I can find a smaller one for your brother." She said.

They examined the size, it was about his size, maybe a little bigger.

"No, this is good for him." They told her.

"Okay, whatever you want kiddo." She said.

She smiled at them, one of her fangs was shiny and golden. They hadn't been smiled at in a long time. It felt nice.

They talked with the witch for a few more hours, she explained all the new things she'd brought that they'd never seen before, then she left, declaring it was late, and she promised to come back again, with more toys. It had been nice to talk with someone again.

They took the blanket with the toys and snacks wrapped up in it back to their room, deep inside the building.

He was just stiring as they got back, he slept a lot. He'd probably eat a lot too if there was food. They were glad the witch brought food, they didn't know how long he could go without it.

He scampered over to them, his little tail wagging happily. They scooped him up and took him to their hanging bed.

"I've got some food for you now, buddy." Them told him.

They still hadn't given him a name, they were waiting for Dad to come back so they could name him together.

They pulled out a crab apple and split it into smaller pieces, then handed it off to him. He munched it down instantly and held his hands out for more.

They got all the snacks seperated from the toys so he didn't accidentally eat any and gave him all the food they figured was safe for him.

Watching their little brother fill his stomach until he couldn't eat anymore made them feel happy. With him fully fed for the first time since he had absorbed his yoke, his internal food supply, he fell right asleep.

They giggled and picked him up into their lap, he was always so warm.

"A witch came by today, she brought all the food, and she brought toys for us to play with. I think she's coming back soon." They whispered softly.

They grabbed the jackalope plushie and held it next to him close to their chest. They breathed in the soft warm scent and closed their eyes, cautiously hopeful of what was to come.

XXX

The witch had been visiting every couple of days for the past couple of months, she always had food and toys of some kind for them to play with while she was gone.

They liked the witch. She made them feel happier, they felt comfortable with her around, she felt warm and honest and safe.

They hadn't felt safe in such a long time, they'd almost forgotten what it really felt like.

The witch felt entirely different from Philip, he'd felt cold from the very start, something had been off, there was a gut feeling that told them not to trust him, but they had. They'd been tricked and lied to and hurt.

Their lip stung where their scar was, Philip had hurt him, they didn't want to be hurt again. They were hopeful that the witch wouldn't hurt them or their brother.

They looked up as the witch landed outside their home, she was carrying a bag as usual. They waved to her happily. They liked it when she came. They liked it a lot.

"Hey kiddo, how ya been?" She asked.

"I'm good, my brother likes the jackalope a lot, and he used the coloring book book the other day and I drew this!" They held up their paper in her face.

They'd drawn her and her owl buddy. They really liked it and hoped she did too.

"Do you like it!?" They asked.

"Whoa kid, this looks better than my wanted posters, you are really good at drawing." She reached her hand out towards them, they froze, panic gripping them, they flinched.

Nothing happened.

"Did I scare you? I didn't mean too. I was just gonna pat your head, I should've asked first."

They blinked and stared at her in disbelief. She appologized? She stopped and she appologized? To them?

Nobody had done that for centuries.

"Um... thank you..." They whispered.

"No problem kiddo, I don't really like people touching me either." She told him.

The rest of the day went nice. The witch told them stories and made little visuals with her magic. It was nice.

"Hey, what's your name anyway kid?" The witch asked as she was preparing to leave.

"I..." They didn't know how to respond to that.

When Philip had asked what they were called, they'd said they were the Collector, that's what all the witches and demons called them, but they didn't really like that title, it didn't fit them any more. Dad called them Enzo, yeah, they could give the witch that name. They liked it more.

"My dad calls me Enzo." They said.

The witch smiled.

"I call myself the Owl Lady. See you around, Enzo." She waved and took off.

Owl Lady. I like that.

XXX

It was raining today, again. A big storm had formed over the seas and was bombarding Bonesborough with boiling rain.

Eda paced her living room, the storm was so bad here, she could only imagine how it was on that tiny little island Enzo and their brother lived on. And it was driving her crazy that she couldn't do anything about it.

The Owl Beast was shouting at her again, it had been shouting since the storm started, telling her to find the young and bring them to the safety of her nest, since their nest was not a good place.

She still didn't understand the Owl Beast's interest in the kid, the bird quieted down when she was on the island and resurfaced every couple of days to tell her to go back.

Eda felt this increasing sense of worry over Enzo, she didn't understand it, or why she was compelled to keep going back without the influence of the Owl Beast. Perhaps the kid had grown on her?

Psht, yeah right. Like some kid could weasle their way into the heart of the fearsome Owl Lady.

Nah. The most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles didn't care about some random, abandoned, hungry, lonely, likely traumatized, kid raising their brother alone on an island in some vain hope that their father was coming back for them.

Well, when put like that, maybe she did care, just a little.

Or maybe a lot.

She sighed and slumped against the wall, tapping her finger on the topaz embedded into her dress. She felt the Owl Beast pushing for her to go, brave the storm and find Enzo.

Something in her gut told her something was wrong. She just had a feeling Enzo needed help.

"Fuck, I must be crazy." She groaned.

She stood off the ground and went to the basement where she usually brewed her potions, and stored random things that she might need at one point or another. She grabbed a knapsack and put a few kid friendly healing potions in it, she snatched up some healing plants she had, just in case she needed them. She grabbed a few other potions that might come in handy, then went to the kitchen.

She took a few Blossom Bat fruits from the bowl on the counter, she snagged two packs of crab apple sauce, it was the closest thing to baby food she had. Then she went to the living room and grabbed two blankets, one for Enzo and one for their brother. She put on her red cloak and fastened it securely.

All of this preperation was just in case the kid needed it, just in case.

She took a deep breath and cast her protection spell before opening the door to face the storm.

XXX

Eda spotted the entrance to the tower Enzo lived in and immediately felt something wrong. She just didn't know what.

She landed at the key shaped entrance and spelled a few witch lights. The atmosphere of the place felt off. There were the little statues everywhere, as always.

"Enzo?! Enzo! It's me! It's Eda the Owl Lady!" She called out into the shadowy ruins.

She went in further, she had never gone very far in since Enzo was always waiting for her at the front. She caught the scent of fear, it was heavy and gave her more reason to worry. She hoped nothing bad happened to them.

"Enzo! Are you okay?! Is something wrong?!" She called out again.

Her ears picked up fast movement. She lowered her staff and turned just in time for Enzo to ram into her. She was almost knocked off balance by the sudden force.

Wait a second. Was Enzo crying?

She looked down at Enzo, who'd buried their face into her dress, sure enough, the poor kid's body was shaking and trembling as they cried. She didn't know what to do, she'd never dealt with this. She tried to remember what Lily did whenever she was upset as a child.

She put her hand on Enzo's shoulder, got on their level and gently coaxed their head up. She panicked seeing Enzo's upset face.

Shit! Shit! Shit! What do I do? What the fuck do I do?

Help them! Comfort them! Get them to tell you what's wrong! The Owl Beast screeched at her.

For once, she was thankful for the bird brain, mostly it's instinctive parental knowledge.

"Enzo, buddy, I need you to tell me what's wrong. I need to know how I can help you, okay? Can you tell me what's going on?" She asked in the calmest, softest voice she could find.

The kid hiccuped and sniffled, wipping their eyes, but nodded.

"Mybrotherissickandhe'snotgettingbetterandI'mreallyworriedcauseIdon'tknowwhattodoandyouweregoneforalongtimeandIwasworriedyouwouldn'tcomebackandIneedhelpcausehe'ssick!" It came out as all one blur of rushed words and crying.

"Enzo, I need you to slow down. Take some deep breaths, in then out, slowly, breath with me." Eda told them.

She took in a long deep inhale, held it for a second, then let it out slowly. Enzo copied her, they did it much faster at first but their breathing slowed down and they stopped shaking soon enough.

"There, that feel better?" She asked.

"Much better." They nodded and wiped their eyes.

"Good. Now what's wrong?" She asked again

"My brother is sick! He's really sick and not getting better and I don't want anything to happen to him!" Enzo cried.

Eda let the kid cry into her again. She patted their back very gently so she didn't startle them.

"It'll be okay, I'm here, I can help, I'll help him." She said softly.

"Thank you, he's this way." Enzo grabbed her hand and led her down a path she could see had been used a lot.

They stopped at what looked like just another wall, but then Enzo tapped it lightly and it opened. Instantly, Eda was overwhelmed with the smell of sick and sound of a baby crying.

Enzo ran arcoss the room, around a raised platform with a cracked eggshell to a hanging bed and grabbed something off of it. They turned around with a crying, fussing little dogish creature with a horned skull on his head. Eda had never seen anything like him before.

"He's sick and won't stop crying!" Enzo held their brother out to her.

She gingerly took the squirming little guy and sat down to check him over. He wasn't physically hurt, he seemed healthy enough minus the sickness. The poor thing was burning up with a fever.

She dug through her sack to find that yes, she had packed a potion to bring a fever down, but before she could give it, she'd have to check his temperature.

It was easy enough to cast a temp check spell, it would tell her his recommended temperature and how far off it he was. In his case, his recommend temp would be about one hundred two and a half, and he was currently at a temp of one hundred and seven, four and a half degrees off.

Yikes!

She gave him the potion without much difficulty, he must've gotten tired by now. Once the potion had been in his system for a few minutes, she checked his temp again and saw it was closer to where it should be.

Alright, temp's down, now to find the problem.

She ran her hand over his stomach, he flinched and squealed loudly. So his stomach was hurting. That didn't exactly narrow anything down, there were so many ailments that could cause an upset stomach, she needed to know if this was life threatening and he required emergency care, or if this was something she could actually handle.

"I gave him medicine so he won't be so hot, but I still haven't figured out what's wrong with him. He might have a stomach flu, or it could be something else." She said to Enzo.

"Do you know what kind of demon he is?" She asked.

There was a breif glint of hesitation in Enzo's red eyes, as if the kid was debating whether or not to tell her something. They shook their head.

"No, I know he's something really strong though, but as little babies they can't do much." Enzo told her.

Now, Eda figured they weren't telling the whole truth, but she wasn't going to pry. They were protecting him and it was clear they had some sort of trauma, and that scar on the orange half of their face... She wanted to rip the throat off whoever did that. Enzo had a reason for lying, it was probably a good reason.

"Since I don't know what he is, it'll be a little harder to figure what's bothering him, but I can do it with the ingredients I have at home." She said.

She didn't have what she needed to diagnose and treat him here as all she'd brought were physical healing spells, and she didn't want to risk waiting any longer. She stood up to leave.

"Wait! Dad said we can't leave!" Enzo pulled her arm back.

Eda bit her inner cheek, this kid had been waiting for who knows how long alone, it couldn't have been good for them. If she told them, they'd be upset, of course, but if she told them, they might come off the island. She could take care of two unidentified demon children, right? She decided to bit the bullet and say it.

"Enzo... I don't think your dad's coming back. If he were, don't you think he would've been here by now?" She leaned down to their level.

"I know it's hard to process, right now, I think you both need to get off this island, you can live with me, and if you want, we can look into what happened to him, but your brother needs help and I can't give it to him here." She told them.

Enzo looked up at her with teary eyes.

"b-But... h-he pinky promised...?"

Fuck! This kid was going to ruin her with stuff like that.

"Sometimes, even the best of people can't keep a pinky promise. I know he must've tried super hard and fought like hell to get back here." She tried comforting them.

"Really?" Enzo sniffled.

"Yeah, who wouldn't with you waiting for 'em?" She said.

Enzo giggled and wiped his eyes. He hugged her and held on tight.

"Don't worry kiddo, you'll be okay soon." She whispered to him.

The door slid open behind her. She turned and saw a weird, gooy rock creature standing behind her. It's eyes were flashing and sparking out. It looked like a predator waiting to pounce.

"That's the guard Dad left." Enzo said.

"I-" Eda broke off as the guard thing swung at her.

She lurched back with the baby and Enzo in her arms. She ducked another swipe. Enzo scampered back to grab the few possenions they had, mostly from her. They grabbed the blanket she'd given them and the jackalope plushie.

She summoned Owlbert, scooped up Enzo and shot straight past the guard with both kids in front of her to shield them from harm.

She cast a protection spell right before they went out into the rain, she didn't even look back. She should've.

The sound of something being fired came from behind, she swerved to dodge it, but it managed to graze the baby's horn, clipping it and knocking part of one off. The impact sent her into the ground.

"Got it!" Enzo shouted, they had the horn in their hands.

The guard fired another arrow, Enzo sent it flying back. Eda scooped up the unconscious baby that had fallen and grabbed Enzo then got out of there as fast as she could.

"Is he gonna be okay? Can you fix his horn? Is he gonna die?" Enzo was panicking.

She had to calm him down, but she couldn't make a promise she might not be able to keep.

"Enzo, I'm sure he'll be fine, he's not going to die, I'll see what I can do for his horn once he's better, okay?" She settled on saying.

Enzo looked up at her with their large, teary red eyes. She tried to give them a reassuring smile, it must've done something since they seemed to calm down.

"Okay... thank you... owl lady..." Enzo whispered quietly.

"No problem kiddo, I've got you."

XXX

Eda checked the baby's temperature, it was going down at a good rate. The little guy had a nasty bug that was making him very sick, and once the parasite was removed, his condition began improving almost instantly. He was a cute little rambunctious gremlin.

Enzo was calming down considerably too, that was also good. They hadn't slept since arriving and stayed glued to their brother at all times, no matter what they were, they had to get tired eventually.

And that time was now, three days after she had brought them into the owl house. She could see the kid was wearing out, practically dead on their feet as they built more of those statues with their brother.

Kids were supposed to go to bed at a decent time, right? Eda glanced at the clock, it was getting pretty late, they should probably get to bed. She stood and went over to the pair of kids.

"Alright kiddos, time for bed." She said while picking the baby up, he still didn't have a name.

"Do we have too?" Enzo yawned.

"Yes, you haven't slept in days kid, time for some shut eye." She told them, holding her hand out.

They grumbled but took her hand and let her lead them up to the spare room she had been using for junk she couldn't find a place for in her room. She still hadn't finished cleaning it out, but she'd gotten a mattress set down for the siblings. The baby slept soundly curled inthe middle, Enzo wouldn't sleep, they just stayed up all night looking out the window if Hooty was correct.

Eda set both kids down onto the bed and the baby found his favorite spot right in the middle. Enzo sat at the edge near the window, they looked like they had absolutely no intentions of sleeping, they were already looking out the window. Children could be difficult, she knew that, but she was learning that talking to them helped a lot.

She sat down at the edge near Enzo, not close enough to invade their space, she'd learned they were sometimes uncomfortable with that. Enzo quickly glanced at her then refocused on the night sky. She let the window open so they could see clearly, the storm had finally died off and the sky was visible for once.

The moon shown with a bright, cold silvery light, the stars a harsh, pale yellow. Both beautiful.

"You like star gazing?" She asked.

Enzo giggled, a slightly devilish smile formed.

"You could say that." Their smile changed to something more wistful and longing.

"Dad and I used to watch the stars together, he'd let me sit on his head and point out all the shapes to me, I liked that." They rested their chin on their hands and leaned against the window sill.

Eda got a warm feeling looking at Enzo, just sitting there, staring out the window and reliving good times with their father. There was something oddly peaceful about it all.

She let them sit there until their exhaustion caught up with them and their eyelids started drooping. She gently rolled them back and let them curl up next to the baby, she really needed a name for him. She closed the window and pulled a blanket around the pair.

"I need you to sleep tonight, okay Enzo? I'll leave some witch lights so you can find the bathroom, and my room is just right upstairs if you need me. Okay?" She told the sleepy demon kid.

They nodded sluggishly, their eyes drooped closed and they snuggled closer to their brother. She took their hat off and set it aside for the morning, then she gave both kids a light head scratch, made the promised witch lights and went to her room.

Kid's finally getting some sleep.

XXX

Enzo curled around their brother in their sleep, wrapped tightly around him to keep him safe.

Something felt wrong.

They had been feeling it since they arrived on the Isles. It was an uncomfortably familiar feeling. It didn't feel good.

They suddenly went cold. They could feel their brother with them yet when they looked down, they didn't see him.

What they did see was almost worse.

They were shadowy and flat. They were shadow projecting, but they hadn't chosen to do it.

They had been summoned.

The only beings who could do that had the summoning tablets they made so they could go multiple places at once. There were only two left, they'd gotten rid of the rest to protect him better, and one didn't work anymore, they'd broken it themself.

There was only one left that could function, but that one had been sealed away by Dad so nothing could happen. The only person who might have access to it, maybe, please no, was-

"Ah, Collector."

Enzo froze, their heart trippled, no, quadrupled, in pace. They didn't want to look up and see it was true. But that voice, sure it might have changed in the last three hundred years, they could still hear what it used to be, it was one that haunted them.

Slowly, they looked up. There, summoning tablet in hand, stood the worst being they had ever known.

"It's been a while since I last saw you, Collector, how long would you say it's been?" Philip smirked, there was sadistic malice in his cold, lifeless eyes.

"Not long enough." Enzo blew a raspberry.

"That's not very mature." Philip scolded.

"Says you!" They blew another one.

Philip gave them a calm glare and slowly approached them. Their instincts told them to get away, but they couldn't, they were confined to projecting on a pillar for the time.

"It seems you've left whatever was keeping me from using this," Philip gestured towards the tablet, "You're in the open now, Collector."

Enzo hissed at Philip, wishing shadow projection let them do something to that horrible human.

"You'll never find us!" They growled.

Philip circled them, an evil look in his eyes.

"Oh I will. You might not know this yet but I am doing far better than where you left me, I am the Emperor of the Boiling Isles, I have all the Isles resources at the tip of my fingers, I will find you, one way or another." Philip sneered.

In the flash of an eye, a disgusting gooy arm flew out and struck Enzo's head, they could feel the pressure from the harsh impact. They clawed at the hand gripping their face to little use. Philip came closer and invaded their space, he always got to close for comfort.

"I will find you, Collector. Whatever it is you've been hiding will be mine. And there will be nothing you can do to stop me. Sooner or later, I will be coming for you, anyone who tries to stop me will die." Philip threatened.

Enzo ripped themself free of the grip and the summoning tablet's influence.

They woke up, terrified and panicked. Their heart was racing so fast, it was so hard to breath.

He knows I left! He knows! He knows we're out! He's coming! He's coming! He's still alive and he's coming for us!

Enzo was so caught up in the panic and fear that they didn't notice the absence of their brother. Or the door open with light illuminating the darkness and the person in front of them.

"Whoa. Enzo, buddy, are you okay?" The owl lady! She was here? She came when he was uspet?!

Eda bent down in front of Enzo, the baby in her arms, he was worried and squeaking nervously. Eda raised a hand and started counting with her fingers, she breathed in and out slowly.

Enzo slowly copied her, tears started falling as the kid gave themself a chance to breath. Their body shook and trembled with sobs. Eda let the poor kid cry into her and rubbed their back.

The baby made soft chirps and snuggled close to his sibling. Eda scratched the baby's head gently. She'd woken up to the little guy scratching at her door in a panic and almost fell down the stairs in his rush to get her to follow. She was glad he'd woken her and understood his urgency once she saw what was wrong.

Enzo had a night terror.

She understood that all too well. The Owl Beast had made many nights difficult with the nightmares and terrors it caused.

It must've been a really bad one.

Eda stayed there in the small room until the panic and shock passed and Enzo would be able to process what was happening. She didn't want to move them and have them panic more.

Once the sobs became soft whimpers and their heart returned to a slower pace, Eda decided to try talking with them.

"Hey Enzo? Are you okay with telling me what's wrong? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She told them.

Enzo tightened their grip on her sleeping sweater, they looked up to her. There was a bruise on their face. That hadn't been there when she put them to bed a few hours ago.

Her head quickly spun with possibilities of how it happened. They could've just hit themself in the panic of their night terror, she'd done that plenty of times, or they could've just hit something. However, the shape of the bruise looked like someone had punched then grabbed them.

Nobody had gotten into the house, Hooty would have alerted her way earlier. Something weird was going on. Not the good kind of weird.

"Let's go get you something for that bruise." She said, trying to raise.

Enzo buried their face back into her sweater and sobbed again.

"He knows. He made me project and he knows. He said he's gonna find us, he wants to take him. He knows I'm out! He knows! He's coming, he's coming, he's coming!" Enzo cried.

"Whoa, who's coming? Who's trying to hurt you?" Eda asked.

Enzo shivered, their lower lip trembled.

"He's the emperor now... he says he's gonna find us... he's bad, he's really really bad! I don't want him to find us!"

Well, that's a bombshell if I ever heard one. What does Belos want with Enzo? Eda frowned. If the Emperor wanted to get to these kids, he'd have to get through her, and the Owl Beast.

For Enzo's comfort, she could make a concealment stone for them, they could hide in plain sight. Yeah, she could make it work for them so they didn't stay inside at all times.

"Enzo, he's never going to get you or your brothee. I promise I'll keep you both safe." She swore.

Enzo's crying paused for a moment.

"Pinky promise?" They asked cautiously.

Eda extended her pinky finger and hooked it around Enzo's with a binding oath spell to let Enzo know she was dead serious. Breaking a binding oath had disastrous consequences.

"Cross my heart and never lie, I'll protect you til the day I die." She recited.

Her hand glowed for a moment then fizzled out.

"C'mon, you two can sleep in my room tonight." She picked both kids up and took them to her room.

They all got settled in to her nest, Enzo got a healing patch for their bruise, and soon the sounds of sleeping filled the air.

Things would be different for The Owl Lady from now on. A single choice had changed her entire life.

The Owl Lady didn't make promises to anyone. The Owl Lady was attached to no one and cared about no one but herself.

At least, she hadn't until she stumbled upon an abandoned island inhabited by a lonely, traumatized kid waiting for their father to return for them and their baby brother that wormed their way into her heart.

The Owl Lady's life was about to change, for better or worse is up for debate.

________________________________________________________________________________

@ophanim-vesper cause you seemed interested in a fic.

Tada!

The first Chapter of the Eda raises two gods AU/King and Collector Brothers AU is done!

Did you like it? I feel I did alright with this considering it was very spontaneously started.

If you like this, please share/let me know your thoughts, and let me know some ideas you might have about the AU and what could happen.

Thanks to everyone who's been liking this, which is the most liked art I've ever done so that's exciting.

Have a wonderful day everyone!

VJS out!

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aropride · 3 years ago

Text

‣ exile arc

↳ a breakdown of the songs on my c!tommy exile arc playlist! all the songs are in chronological order :] all /rp, of course

playlist link!

run boy run - woodkid

tomorrow is another day / and you don't have to hide away / you'll be a man, boy / but for now, it's time to run, it's time to run

↳ i see this as the very beginning of exile, when c!tommy is still fighting. he's still running, he's refusing to throw his items in the hole, he's still joking around. he's not beat down yet.

good kid - the lightning thief

i never try to do anything / i never mean to hurt anyone / i try, i try to be a good kid, a good kid / a good son / but no one ever will take my side / all i ever do is take the fall / i swear, i swear that I'm a good kid / guess i'm good for nothing at all

↳ he never meant to hurt anyone. he didnt even mean to burn george's house, just to put up signs and netherrack. and now he's taking the fall for something he never meant to do.

art is dead - bo burnham

i must be psychotic, i must be demented / to think that i'm worthy of all this attention

↳ this is his mental health beginning to fail. maybe after the first or second time dream makes him give up his armor/tools and maybe he's thinking he's not good for much at all anymore.

be nice to me - the front bottoms

there is very little left of me and it's never coming back & but you're a killer / and i'm your best friend

↳ tommy says he's going to feel "very very lonely" & knows things are going to get worse. and he's right, things do get worse. but he has dream. and dream might be an awful person. but he's his only friend at this point, right?

sweet hibiscus tea - penelope scott

and i'm not your protagonist, i'm not even my own / i don't know anything, i don't even know what i don't know / and if you look outside, you'll see disintegrating trees / the artificial way the sunlight bounces off the waxy leaves

↳ he's getting worse. things don't seem quite as real anymore, and he feels foggy. he feels like he's wandering in circles in the plains because, well, he is.

no children - the mountain goats

and i hope when you think of me years down the line / you can't find one good thing to say / and i'd hope that if i found the strength to walk out / you'd stay the hell out of my way / i am drowning / there is no sign of land

↳ although not all of the song fits (the marriage part specifically lol), it is essentially about a toxic relationship. tommy hopes that if he runs away dream won't chase him. every morning he wakes up in the ocean and has to swim back to shore.

i deserve to bleed - sushi soucy

i punish my body 'cause it's not good enough for me / the scary thoughts are spreading like a weed / the thoughts that say that i deserve to bleed & they say that it gets better, but i guess that was a lie / i guess we all just fake it 'til we die

↳ he's stopped taking care of himself. he's missing a shoe, his clothes are torn, he's missing or not even attempting easy mlg's. he's staring out at pits of lava.

pluto - sleeping at last

still i'm pinned under the weight / of what i believed would keep me safe / so show me where my armor ends / show me where my skin begins

↳ i like to take this lyric literally- i like to imagine him frantically making armor early in the morning so he can feel safe even for just a couple hours of his day. once exile ends, i imagine it'd be hard for him to take off his armor for quite a while.

hast thou considered the tetrapod - the mountain goats

and then i'm awake and I'm guarding my face / hoping you don't break my stereo / because it's the one thing that i couldn't live without / and so i think about that and then i sorta black out

↳ what's a tommy playlist without a music disc reference? he can't live without his discs & dream is constantly trying to take them.

look who's inside again - bo burnham

well, well, look who's inside again / went out to look for a reason to hide again / well, well, buddy, you found it

↳ this is when he really starts to collapse into himself. every time he tries to talk to people (like when he tries to go to l'manberg for christmas) he's shot down, he's forced to stay alone, isolated, under threat of being chased and hit with an axe until he loses his final life.

my r - lollia

for the very first time, there i see / someone with the same pains as me / having done this time and time again / she wore a yellow cardigan

↳ i see this as one of the final days before his attempt, when he's shooting himself with arrows. he's not going to do it yet. but he's going to think about it.

i cant handle change - roar

i can't help but repeat myself, "i know it's not your fault" / Still lately i begin to shake for no reason at all

↳ he's trying to convince himself it's not his fault. and as the viewer, we know it's not. but it's hard for him to remember that when he's shaking and terrified and dream is telling him it's all his fault.

hear me - imagine dragons

maybe if i fall asleep, i won't breathe right / maybe if i leave tonight, i won't come back & can nobody hear me? / i've got a lot that's on my mind / i cannot breathe / can you hear it too?

↳ this song reminds me of one of my other blorbos, in full honesty, and that's why i picked it originally. but the lyrics fit as well, portraying someone who's really, really struggling & believes no ne can hear them and nobody cares to try.

achilles come down - gang of youths

won’t you get up off, get up off the roof? / you’re scaring us and all of us, some of us love you & (ce, qu'on appelle une raison de vivre est en même temps une excellente raison de mourir) & how you will heal and you’ll rise above

↳ this is him on the tower. "some of us love you"- him looking at the photo of tubbo, remembering someone who cared about him. the french, which translates to "what one calls a reason to live is also often an excellent reason to die" - i relate that to how he feels about his "only friend dream." maybe some people would stay alive for their only friend. for him, it's more reason to jump. "how you will heal and you'll rise above" could easily be about how he feels at the end of the disc war finale, when he's flying above everyone with the trident and cheering.

& so self-indulgent and self-referential / no audience could ever want you / you crave the applause yet hate the attention / then miss it, your act is a ruse / it is empty, achilles, so end it all now / it's a pointless resistance for you & you will not be more than a rat in the gutter

↳ part 2 of this song. i see these lines as how dream talks to him and how tommy begins talking to himself. additionally, dream often dehumanizes tommy by comparing him to animals -- the "rat in the gutter" line resonates strongly with that piece of the story.

camisado - panic at the disco

the bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake & can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid / sit back, relax, sit back, relapse again

↳ this is him falling into the water, him choosing to live. dream tried his best to take his will to live but it's still there, he's still alive, and he's covered in physical reminders of what dream did.

the foundations of decay - my chemical romance

you must fix your heart / and you must build an altar where it rests

↳ this is tommy on the tower deciding to live. this is him getting up & rising from the ruins of logstedshire & running.

class of 2013 - mitski

can i sleep in your house tonight? & i'll leave once i figure out how to pay for my own life too

↳ tommy asking techno if he can stay with him. or, to be fair, not asking, but just moving in. he asks techno to help him just this once.

rat - penelope scott

i loved you, i loved you, i loved you, it's true / and sometimes i feel like i still fuckin' do / i lived here, i loved here, i bought it, it's true / i'm so embarrassed, i feel abused / i feel so used

↳ dream made him feel like he was his friend, & now he's out of exile and he knows it was all to condition him to trust dream.

freaks - surf curse

i dream of you almost every night / hopefully i won't wake up this time

↳ tommy after exile. he's looking for friends, he's looking for a support system. & he's also struggling w ptsd from what dream did, and passive suicidality as well.

#exile arc #suicide tw #abuse tw #c!tommy #AND POST #text #bbhsmp

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trashytoastboi · 3 years ago

Note

I loved the headcanon first times with Law, can you do the same for Eustass Kid? Sfw and nsfw thanks

Heyya! Sure thing!🍀 I'm glad to hear you liked them and hope you enjoy some for our favorite angry tulip ~

(Gender Neutral)

Headcanons: SFW and NSFW - First Times with Eustass Kid

Warning: NSFW

SFW and NSFW First times with Trafalgar Law

Eustass Kid

SFW

🛠First date was not really much of a date, it was Kid's usual activities that he had {Name} tag along with. He tried... He really did and believe it or not, he even tried to do the gentlemanly thing, awkwardly, abrasively and terribly. But the effort was there if you looked hard enough. However, being shot at by marines, nearly being devoured by a sea king and having another pirate crew threatening to turn them into wares thanks to the bounties on their head was not exactly the best idea of a first date. It ended with a very exhausted {Name} and Kid on some beach, awaiting Killer and the rest of the crew to pick them up while laughing about how terribly everything went. One warm meal later, they were wiped out and sleeping at the table.

🛠PDA is a bit of a double edged sword with Kid, he has moments where he wants to put on a bit of a display only so others know that {Name} is his. Other times he can be embarrassed by simple gestures that prove to fluster him, and disguises it under extra bravado. Such as the first time {Name} ever held his hand, despite being the one to hint at it, it was up to {Name} to actually take the invitation and initiate it. Notably this is not one of Kid's favourites kinds of affection because it makes him look soft.

🛠If you're looking for a romantic and sweet first kiss, Kid is not the one. His first kiss with {Name} was rough, messy and overall awkward. It happened as a spur of the moment thing and {Name} was just surprised and taken aback that they couldn't respond, and considering the erratic nature of his kissing, it's hard to fall into sync with. No mistakes, Kid is a good kisser and definitely has experience, that being said it doesn't account for taking one completely off guard when one moment {Name} is walking past and the next they're being pulled in for one of the most intense kisses of their life.

🛠The first time Kid ever uttered the words “I love you” it occurred in a fight. When worked up, sometimes to such an extent Kid can be a little more inclined to complete honesty, cunning is for the calm mind but when aggravated sometimes his brain shuts down and honesty is the only thing left. It wasn't necessarily a bad fight, nor a serious one. More of a heated argument over something not so serious, the entire fight was over the moment Kid said that though because {Name} couldn't be angry with him and Kid couldn't deny it so the fight was instantly brought to a ceasefire and angry cuddles ensued.

🛠Sharing a bed the first time was not at all fun. Kid was not used to sharing a bed and sleeps like a log. {Name} was sleeping next to him, honestly if it were cold it would have been pleasant but it was a hot night and Kid being a space heater did not help. So avoiding sweaty snuggling {Name} opted to sleep next to him until a swift force dropping onto their stomach ripped them from sleep. {Name} noticed Kid had rolled over and his arm was pinning them down, moving it failed and so did waking him. {Name} did not have a peaceful sleep pinned under the dead weight of his arm.

🛠First time {Name} ever got to see Kid feeling down, it was after a close call with one of the admirals. Kid and a fair portion of the crew were injured, some barely and others heavily. Kid will blame himself for his own incompetence and weakness, especially when his crew gets hurt. It's a side he rarely shows anyone and he keeps to himself or buries it under acts of savagery and anger. It was a side of him that {Name} never knew existed, how Kid could seem so fragile. It was a difficult moment for Kid, even more so having {Name} see him in that state. Somehow their presence was comforting and helped them to grow a little more understanding of one another.

NSFW

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

🛠The first time having sex with {Name} proves a bit challenging for Kid. He is aware of how big he is... stature and otherwise. And makes a great effort to try and be gentle at least until they're a little more used to it. Impatience is unfortunately a fatal flaw and despite holding himself back still rushes into things, thankfully instead of hurting them, he was pleasantly surprised when {Name} moans underneath him and mutter how good it feels only stoked him further into his passions. He was willing to let {Name} set the pace. Though when they were begging him to carry on, he wasn't very well going to deny.

🛠 Honestly Kid was in his element, loving the exploration of unfamiliar places and learning where {Name} feels it the most. Every moan and sigh brought about by his hands was winding him up. It pushed Kid into becoming more domineering, rougher in his actions and seeing just how much they love it. Pulling him closer with every thrust, praising Kid and tangling hands in his hair to give it a few harsh tugs, and just listening to their voice and his groans everytime he moved.

🛠First time Kid had introduced a kink of his, it wasn't something entirely new seeing that he can't help it nor hide it. And that being a massive size kink, even with taller partners Kid has always been taller than them to various degrees. Its a point of pride to him, especially when {Name} unintentionally mentioned something about his size it was an instant ego boost for Kid.

🛠{Name} wanted to reciprocate things and pleasure Kid, which he was more than happy to be the oh so great teacher for. As he so eloquently put it... "Mouth stuff." And watching them settle between his legs, looking up at him with those lustful eyes as he guides his cock into their mouth and watching them take him so eagerly stirs something a little more carnal in him.

🛠Kid is more than inviting and encouraging to {Name} being a little more open and honest as to their desires. Honestly he was pleasantly surprised when {Name} began listing off a bunch of fantasies they had. Hearing half of the things that they wanted turned Kid on more than he realized he could be. It is physically impossible to fulfill it in one night, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

#one piece #eustass kid #eustass kidd #trashytoastboi #eustass captain kid #gender neutral #smut #lemon #unholy toast #ns.fw #fluff #romance #op eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece scenario #one piece scenarios

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wh6res · 4 years ago

Text

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

647 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 4 years ago

Text

⭐Yandere Joestars⭐

(Parts 1-7 + Bonus Charcter: Joseph and Johnny’s characterizations are based off @dear-yandere ‘s interperations) I tried to write this mostly in the Joestars' POV. Their respective darlings resemble lifelike dolls rather than human beings to further illustrate how out of touch with reality the Jojos have become.

Warnings: Gore, kidnapping, dehumanization.

Edited: By the amazing Peri!! (@tealyjade-libran )

⭐Jonathan Joestar is possessive. ⭐

It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it...

It's an old saying, one that Jonathan remembers from an antique storybook his mother use to read him. It didn't mean anything back then, when he was still an infant too young and new, to fully comprehend what "owning" and "losing" was. But as the years ticked by faster than any clock could keep track of, things started to change. What had once been a passing quote in a chivalrous story about knights and dragons, soon turned into the epitome of Jonathan Joestar's life.

Soon love wasn't about saving a princess or impressing the neighborhood girls with his boxing skills. No, all too soon love became about own and guarding.

There may have been a time -long before "Jojo" and Dio met- when Jonathan was just like any other gentleman. Tender and sweet, flirtish at gatherings and charming in ladies' companies...but that was a Jonathan from a could-be-past that had been demolished the minute Dio Brando stepped foot onto the Joestar estate. From then on things depleted all so quickly. Everything Jonathan had come to unconsciously cherished had been so easily stripped from him by his beloved new "brother".

Everything he loved had been killed, destroyed, or broken in some inhuman way. His friends had abandoned him, his lover had distorted him, his father didn't even notice him...

"It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it". The second time he hears that phrase, it freezes him to the pavement, his body star-struck like he just received a message from the heavens. Although it's rather peculiar, why "heaven" would convey a message to him in such an unholy place.

With Dio having practically kicked Jonathan out of the mansion and countryside. Jojo had no other place to go but the back allies of London. Sure he still tried to be home for supper and bedtime and any other time his father may get an inkling of his absence. But when there was no need to 'appear' Jonathan took to the London streets away from Dio and his lackeys.

In fate's bizarre game, it's in a backstreet that reeks of days old licker and rotting flesh of paupers that no one has bothered to bury. That Jojo hears that life-defining idiom once more. His dulling sapphire blue eyes follow the mist of those melodious words. Staring until they're practically itching to cut through his sockets and run after those little words. But they stop right before they can leave their eyelets, they stop and stare at the figure that strolls out of the shadows, in such a way, that would make Jojo's father slap him across the face for being "barbarous".

It's luck or fate or maybe even destiny that leads the heir of the Joestar legacy to meet his darling in the slums of England.

"How my heart resonates when I lay my weary eyes on your enchanting face..."

There's an odd sweetness about the naivety that surrounds his little friend. A sort of innocence that comes with not knowing about the hell that he's gone through. It's charming in a moderate way, his darling can't come to despise him if they haven't got a clue who he is. Keeping both his worlds as far apart as possible is really the only option left. Dio and his friends can't hurt his new friend? Lover? Companion? In actuality, Jonathan really doesn't know what you are to him. At first, you're merely a distraction from his crumbling, lonely shell of an existence. A sort of invisible pillar holding up London's bridge before it collapses into the River Thames. Sure he views you as another person, unlike the other noblemen Jonathan has no desire to treat you as anything less than a respectable young lady despite your social statutes.

Dio can have the noblemen and ladies, he can have all of George's affection and favor, Heck Dio can have the whole goddamn world for all Jonathan cares. So long as he has his darling, his sunflower, his only means for living, then he will be content.

Jojo lost everything he once loved, but he swears it to every star in the night sky that'll preserve his darling from the wickedness that runs this cruel world. He'll cherish her while she's still in his arms...

He'll protect her, just like the knights did in the old bedtime stories his mother would tell him.

"...I swear on my honor as a Joestar that I shall never lose you to the likes of anyone, I'll be a true gentleman, a true knight and I'll protect you from any who wishes cause you harm."

⭐Joseph Joestar is Protective and all so patronizing.⭐

Why must Love hurt so much?

It's solitude, pure utter solitude that attracts Joseph to his darling. Oh sure, he must have known them from an earlier time in his life, back when the words Hammon and Ripple just sounded like fancy dessert names. Back when he was still a naive kid wishing on every goddamn star that he could just meet one of his parents for a fraction of a second. Back when life was easy when everything made sense. That's when he first met his darling. Although all so many years ago he probably just thought of them as the little sister he never got a chance of having.

There's a numbness growing inside him now that his life has slipped off its axes, hurling into unknown darkness that plagues him in the form of Pillarmen and red gems.

Everywhere he looks there's a reminder that nothing's going back to the way it used to be. No waking up to Granny Erina's voice calling him down for breakfast, no running around chasing Old Man Speedwagon. Everything is gone, replaced by Lisa Lisa's brutal training and Ceaser's endless taunting.

Day by day nothing changes, but once he looks back every little thing is different. Ruptured and mangled into something unrecognizable.

But then there's his darling. Someone -or rather something- that's still the same. Just like before. Her smile is still the same as ever, bright and cheery as she runs up to him wrapping her arms around his abdomen muttering about how much she missed her "Dear Big Brother".

(Y/N) is a comfort, a familiarity in a strange new world. She's something so frail and vulnerable, not to mention naive. Thrusted into a world where horror writers don't dare venture into. It's so likely that she'd be captured by one of Kar's zombie vampire things or -even worse- charmed by Caesar’s silver tongue.

It's thoughts like these that haunt Joseph at night, keep him up and wandering into her room just to gaze at her sleeping form. He's lucid enough to know how it might look. Like he's the bad guy trying to take advantage of a defenseless little girl. But he can justify his actions, he's her big brother, he has to watch over especially when she's at her most vulnerable. If Ceaser ever tried anything or some vampire freak snatched her away in the dead of night, Joseph would never forgive himself!

But what does he get for all his efforts? What does he get for all his sleepless nights and hours upon hours of worrying? Just a small smile and a fleeting kiss on the cheek. No sincere, "Thank you big brother," or, "You're my hero Joseph!" Nothing, nothing worthwhile anyway.

Now it's a competition, a battle to the death if it has to be -funny how he takes this more seriously than his match against Wamuu.- He's competitive by nature and he's willing to do anything to earn his darling's affection once more. He doesn't care who he has to beat within an inch of their life so long as he can have his darling back in his arms.

There is an aftermath to all of these, once all the fighting has ended and the battle's won. Once Joseph has finally claimed his prize. There's a certain way his darling has to act. She’s got to smile and play the role of the dotting little sister once more. Just so Joseph can justify his actions...

"And your next line is, 'I love you more than anything else big brother Joseph!'...at least I wish it was."

⭐Jotaro Kujo is cold and sadistic.⭐

Never learned how to love...

A lover by Jotaro's book is nothing more than a walking, talking doll. Someone who cooks meals, irons clothes, and kisses him on the cheek before he leaves for the day. Sure they have other uses, in flares of passionate moments, they're something to hold onto, another pair of limbs to get tangled in. Something hot and solid, someone to push down, to weigh his force on.

That's it, that's all there is to it...

A lover and a convenient toy are one of the same.

He knows it's wrong to think about someone that way. To deprive a living thing of all their thoughts and feelings just so it's suitable for him. But at the end of the day who wants to hear idle chatter and gossip or go outside for walks in crowded areas. All too social, it's all so troublesome. All Jotaro wants is a closed-off life, away from the scums of the earth...away from people in general.

It's such an inconvenience to seek out a lover, to hassle through dates and meetups in hopes of finding someone that clicks. Jojo would even go so far as to call it wishful thinking. So it has to be a pure accident that he even meets his darling. They're just someone who gets tangled in with the crusaders. A perfect living perception of 'wrong place, wrong time'. Someone who's life gets blown to bits and shambles just because fate decided to play a cruel joke on them.

And that's what piqued Jotaro's interest. The desperate, depleted look of pain cemented over their face. The sparse dying gleam of determination that blazes within their eyes. Oh, what Jotaro wouldn't do to snuff that little ray of hope. To watch as what little purpose they have is ripped from their arms. What he wouldn't do to see them in pain...

Pain is submission, that's really all Jojo wants. A darling submits, not out of their own free will, but because every little thing they've ever loved has been slaughtered, all that they cherished has been stolen from them.

But it's not enough

It's never enough

Although Jotaro adores the looks of anguish that decorates his lover's face. There's something more satisfying about maltreating them. About leaving marks all over, about leaving bruises that never lose their violet glow. He's claiming his darling, physically and mentally. Not a single day goes that Jotaro doesn't remind his lover who they belong to. From verbal taunts that plague his darling's mind day and night, to punches that break bones leaving them paralyzed on the floor begging for help, to cuts that are just a little too deep to ever heal properly.

Even when his darling is behaving, even when the poor little thing does everything her lover tells her to do, there's still going to be some sort of violence directed at her. Some backhanded remark about how useless they are just because they couldn't follow his mother's recipe. Some sort of blow just for greeting him 'too late'. Trivial things morph into punishments, just for Jotaro's sick amusement.

At his core, Jotaro is an unresponsive man, one with no regard for how others feel. He's distant, it's a trait he can't change. He likes how he does things, how there's no room for slip-ups when it's only him. Even his darling isn't someone he'd consider opening up to. Their opinion of him doesn't matter and their feelings are irrelevant. Most days he's gone until the last possible moment, leaving his darling an endless amount of time to mull over every word and scar.

But here's the catch.

As the clock ticks by, as the nights and days begin to merge into an endless existence, as all hope burns in the pits of hell, darling's mind is also going to stray. Ever so slowly losing its perception of reality.

'Maybe' spiders begin to spin webs of doubt through darling's empty cranium. The isolation begins to bite at her skin like the razor-sharp fangs of frostbite. They start to crave Jotaro's harsh touches, they start to miss the venom-like words. Every insult and slap to the face is welcomed, all the misplaced anger and death threats start to feel like sweet kisses and flowery touches.

Poor darling no longer sees big scary Jotaro as a monster. They've lost the ability to see him for what he truly is.

And what happens when Jotaro does finally come home? Oh, how little (y/n) will ravish in the gut kicks and loathsome words. How she'll take every beating with a sweet sugar-coated smile.

Cause this is her life now. A meaningless existence that revolves around Jotaro and his bleak personality. A life that's only worth living when Jotaro is around.

Is it even a life?

"Yare yare daze you're such a hassle, be glad I keep you around...”

⭐Josuke is obsessive with delusional tendencies.⭐

Maybe I'm the one you'll fall in love with next...

Just like his "father" Joseph, Josuke is stuck in a perpetual state between diaphanous and phantasm.

There's something all too wrong with Morioh nowadays. The narrow streets and verbose buildings have started to feel like a transparent cage. The town has always been small, barely reaching a population of 3,000 despite all the new families that keep moving in.

Nevertheless, everything has dulled, faded, and withered into a monochrome collage. The layers of repetitiveness had finally begun to pick at Joskue's nerves...

And yet somehow, by some diabolical twist of fate. In the mists of the oceans of familiarity, Josuke’s eyes grab onto some shimmering pearl lounged into between the crowd of familiar faces.

Sure he's seen this girl before, but he's never actually seen her. Never stopped to look at the odd way their eyes twinkle like newborn stars or how their skin shimmers with the glow of a thousand suns.

One second is all it took, a fleeting compliment as you passed by Jojo in the peppermint flavored afternoon. Your hair flowing like a tapestry of the galaxy as you disappeared in the crowd of dead pulsars. Not a care in the world, not for him, not for anyone.

Destiny was definitely up to its old cruel tricks again.

He's not stalking. Josuke will swear on his grandfather's grave that he'd never "stalk" a harmless little girl, like some distorted maniac. He just happens to bump into you at the beauty parlor when he's picking up a new brand of hairspray. And it's totally an accident when he meets you out in the abandoned fields! Honest! It's not his fault fate wants the two of you to keep meeting, it's not his fault that you guys are meant to be!

It's not technically a friendship that you two start to build up, it's far from one. Friends don't dream about sugar-filled kisses behind school walls. Or about ice cream that tastes like scandalous touches and candy induced moans. No, Joskue isn't your friend, he NEVER wanted to be your friend. He knows that! He knows what he wants...but with each passing day, he's beginning to doubt that you know that.

He'd never realized he's been so sensitive on you. So entranced by your out of tune voice that muttered rather than spoke. He's seldom been so eager to throw a punch and crack his knuckles on someone's skull, just for saying you looked "lovely today".

Whenever his eyes don't land on you, a rage-filled volcano bubbles in the pit of his gut, uncontrollable anger that festers inside of him, like lava waiting to spill out and burn anyone that wanders too close. His palms itch with the need to hold you, to feel your soft skin rubbing against his.

The jealousy is always there, pricking at his skin like rose thrones. Until they inevitably cut through his flesh and make him lose his composure. He's ready to kick and punch and hurt and kill anyone that comes too close to you, anyone that saunters off their orbit and makes a beeline for you, disturbing the balance of solitude that Josuke so eagerly sets you into.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when the world has finally dozed off, Joskue's mind begins to wonder. He thinks the way he feels about you is the same way an addict feels about his drugs. Maybe to him, you're even more addicting than heroin and ecstasy...and yet he can't quit you, he just doesn't want to quit you. Nothing in this world could compare to your sweet voice that tickles his ear when you lean in, to whisper a secret, or the may your full lips move when you throw another honey-filled insult at him.

He prefers when you're alone when he's the only one you talk to.

Sure there are exceptions like everything in life, although in the end

there's a sort of backhanded irony.

It's those exceptions that are going to hurt him in the.

Josuke trusts his friends, he knows that Okuyasu and Koichi would never do anything to hurt him...

But you're not on that list and to be fair you're surely the only one who can truly hurt him.

You fall for a friend of his. Not him, not the boy that's been driving himself insane just to earn a smile from you, not the boy that let you get away with insulting his hair and poking insults at his look, not him never him, it just can't be him.

"You're like an older brother to me"...Did you wash your mouth with acid before you spat those words at him? Did you intend to lace your words with knives and blades and rubbing alcohol before you stabbed him? It's figurative, sure. But it might as well be literal. No pain, no cut, no punch from any stand would ever hurt so much! You really don't know what you do to him, do you?

"I'm happy for you," it's a lie, blank and simple. Automatic words that he's practiced in the mirror a thousand and one times. He'd rather watch you suffocate on your own blood than in the arms of another man. He'd rather break every bone in your body than watch you kiss one of his friends.

How on earth had he ever come to love you? Someone as cruel and cold. Were you even human? You resembled some ice stand more than a flesh and blood person. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM.

He really hadn't meant for it to become an addiction, he hadn't meant to get all so used to the crunch of bones beneath his foot, and the bloodied lips quivering, shuttering out apologizes for having the gall to utter your name in his presence. But there's only so much a teenage boy can take, only so much torture that he can bury inside with a moonlight smile.

Addictions really do funny things to semi-sane people, huh?

It's a split-second decision, done in the heat of an all so regular moment. It's just a simple half-hearted punch when you beat him at another videogame. Then another

And another

Then a crack, another and another, and before either of you knew it you're on the floor screaming out in pure agony.

Josuke vows he's not being cruel when he breaks your bones so delicately. He can justify every crack, every fracture. Although it's rather repetitive and in certain cases borderline petty.

Five broken bones on your left leg just for "kissing" your new boyfriend. Your right leg is bent at an angle you're sure it's not meant to be. All because you hugged said new lover before going to class.

Josuke's once liquidy blue eyes that held the softness of clouds have been dulled over by a sort of thick mania. His once soft touch is nothing but nails digging into already bruised tissue. His lips wobbling as stray tears flow past his eyes. Muttering apologies and stuttering curses at both you and himself.

It's not really like his darling can leave after that incident. Josuke is known around town as the boy with a diamond heart. There's no way in hell anyone will believe what he did to you. It's just better, safer, to stick close to him, to swallow the indignities and paint a loving smile over your face when you gaze into his depraved eyes.

It's better to pretend to love him, rather than have another limb broken...

"Come on (Y/N), it's just a little crack. If you promise to give me a tiny kiss I'll let Crazy Diamond fix you right up."

⭐Giorno Giovanna is sneaky and manipulative. ⭐

Sono pazzo di te. Sei la cosa più bella che mi sia mai capitata...

There's a sleekness to Giorno, a cunning that's hidden behind layers of charisma and charm mimicking that of his birth father's. It's so easy for him to fool his darling into believing that he's a charming prince from a storybook. He's the good guy trying all so damn hard to make his dream a reality. He's admirable, he's noble, he's Giorno Giovana, the golden boy.

It's not like he ever intends to hurt his darling. He'd never dream of laying a hand on them, he's all too familiar with the wounds that come from endless beatings. The bruises and phantom pains, that get worse as the days slip by. He knows real pain, and unlike all so many others on both sides of his family, Giorno doesn't want his lover to experience an uncia of it.

He'd never repeat what his stepfather and mother did to him. He's going to try and do everything he can to make sure that his darling is safe...

Because isn't that what's important? To make sure the one you love is safe. To make sure they don't get swept off their feet by some masquerading drunkard or taken advantage of by some fanciful sadist.

Giorno will do anything to keep his darling safe, even if it means tampering with their mind a little. Nothing too serious, he'd never even considered changing anything about them. Although isolating them isn't completely off the table and a few verbal threats are fine from time to time. Just for precaution...

Giorno is a rather determined boy, he'll go to any lengths to isolate his lover. Scaring away friends by letting Gold Experience give them a small out of body experience. If they're persistent then he can't guarantee that that out-of-body experience will simply remain an experience much longer. It's not out of malice, but it's what must be done for the sake of his darling, the only other thing he cares about.

There's a shift, a difference between the young naive Giorno Giovanna, the golden boy with starry eyes, and the new boss of Passione, the Mafioso who holds the whole country in the palm of his hand.

Oh sure, as a simple Soldato Giorno was dangerous in his own right. But Don Giorno? He's the sort of monster written about in the grimmest fairy tales. Wearing the appearance of a true king but underneath the luxury suits and priceless watches, he's just another greedy, fire-breathing dragon.

As the Don of Italy's most influential gang, Giorno's manipulation tactics have gotten rather ....hazardous. He doesn't have time to waste getting rid of every single person that poses a threat to his darling. If someone looks their way, he'll send some goons to take care of them.

Although it's so much easier to keep his lover locked away, he even has the perfect excuse now. He's the head of the mafia, he has all so many enemies who jump at the opportunity to hurt him in some way. So he has to keep his defenseless little lover locked away in some mansion that's all so far away.

He's also a bit more violent now. Giorno's more physical, ready to break a bone just for a wrong word or a cracked jaw from a punch for even asking to go outside. He blames it on the stress of running an organization...although it's more likely that all the power from passion has begun to rinse away Giorno's caring side.

"Cuore mio, Resta con me per sempre"

⭐Jolyne Kujo is clingy and obsessive and delusional.⭐

I can't stay away from you...

Jolyne is a rather condescending yandere. Her rough ragged exterior does little to hide the clingy neediness that writhes inside her shattered heart.

She's soft, dependent, desperate at best. Wanting her darling to approve of every tiny trifling thing she does. Needing their words of praise and approving smiles to have the courage to live another day.

At times it seems like the only thing keeping Jojo alive is the "good girl!" and "I'm proud of you!" her darling throws her way. Chanting the words of praise with closed eyes and fluttering smiles of anxiety.

It's difficult to make her sweetheart realize how virulent this relationship is, far too hard to call Jolyne a Yandere. The derogatory term applies to someone who ceases all control from their lover, who locks them in a basement, and throws away the key. It applies to murders and

stalkers and lunatics that roam the streets in the dead of full moon nights. It applies to those who were thrown into Green Dolphin for a reason.

Not to some girl whose life has been demolished over and over and over again.

Not to the girl with a star birthmark that follows her darling around like a lost puppy in the freezing rain.

But even Jolyn has her limits. She's been let down time and time again, abandoned and framed by those she thought she loved unconditionally. From friends to boyfriends to even her own father, everyone leaves, they take what they want, and then they leave.

Flesh like strings, stitched into a web of antithesis and distraught moods, act as a solid, interchangeable reminder of who really holds the power in this relationship. Of how Jolyne can go from needing her darling to controlling her darling in just a fraction of a heartbeat. She loves them, she swears she does...but they need to stay close to her, they need to only think about her.

Her addiction gets worse as the days tick by. It's less romantic, less loving. Morphing into a dependency, a compulsion. Rotting thoughts of her darling suddenly leaving, plague her every waking moment. The once semi pleasant conversations between her lover and her friends, get cut off like a severed limb.

Even Hermes and Foo Fighters aren't "good enough" to be around Jolyne’s lover. She's all so, scared they'll try to take them from her. Stealing the ONLY good thing in her life.

There's a certain degree of control that Jolyne's willing to give to her darling. A sort of freedom to make, revolting appalling choices, so long as they include her. A freedom to boss her around and make her submit. Her darling is free, so long as that freedom revolves around Jolyne.

"(Y/N)~ don't look at them! You should only focus on me! I'm supposed to be your world!"

⭐Johnny Joestar is sadistic and manipulative.⭐

Arrogance disguised as affection...

It's all degradation, all harsh words that sting worse than bullet wounds. Glares from dull wicked blue eyes that might as well kill, cause it's better than the alternative. Smirks that make being alive so damn distasteful. Kisses that engrave the lingering taste of rotting lead into your tongue.

Johnny isn't sweet, he doesn't smile at his little sweetheart. He doesn't pat their head and kiss their temples while uttering sweet nothings into their blushing ear. No, his lover doesn't deserve a honey-coated life. They don't deserve to have what was stolen from him by his so-called "loved ones". Instead, he uses them as a living dart board, for both his acid-laced words and bullet-like fingernails.

There's no love when it comes to Jojo. He doesn't want to waste time on something so frivolous as a "significant other". But he does like having someone -or rather something- to play with, a form of entertainment that bends at his will. Not a pushover, not someone who's too proud either. But a living doll that can take a few verbal spats and survive an armada of fingernail bullets through the stomach.

Oh, sure he wants to break them, having a toy that's so conflicted, that questions their own sanity is so much more fun. But it's the intervals that count. Johnny wants to be the one to break his darling. To engrave the helpless look of distress into his memory. He wants to preserve every scream, every tear. That's the whole purpose of even keeping a darling.

Johnny rarely lets his darling out of his sight. It's so much easier to play with their mind if he's the only one they ever talk to. They'll become so easily dependent on him if he's their only companion. Although sometimes Gyro can get a little too touchy and friendly. And there will be occasions when Hot Pants start to pry into the darling and Jojo's personal life. But the incidents are few and far between. Not like Johnny minds, if anything these minor secondary "meetups" are useful to the paraplegic jockey. They refill his darling with the most precious thing..." Hope". Just so Johnny can beat it out of them all over again.

There's a darkness that resides deep within Johnny. A toxicity that laces his actions. His life is miserable and he's damn well sure it'll always be that way.....

So why not take his lover down with him?

"Don't you love me darlin' ? Cause I certainly don't love ya."

⭐Jorge Joestar is delusional and obsessive.⭐

What if we lost our minds, together?

A love story better than his parents, that's all Jorge wants. Flower field dates, and quick lingering kisses before midnight. Something sweet, that doesn't have a macabre end. A romance without body-snatching vampires and zombies that shed their flesh. Something normal, gentle, lovable.

Although with the family he's been born into and the kind of things that keep finding him. Jorge doubts he's ever going to get such a hopeful love life. He's all so desperate to carve a life for himself outside of his family's shadow, but in the end, it's simply eager wishing.

He's not exactly sure what he's even looking for in a lover. Someone sweet but strong-willed, an average answer. Someone who bears a sort of resemblance to Lisa Lisa. Not physically but rather mentally, he's not a coward, he swears he's not, but he just wants someone who can protect him. A fair exchange in his eyes. His lover will guard him against the bullies and freaks of the island and in turn, he'll protect them from the grim ghouls that run amok through the world. Although when push comes to shove he isn't sure if he'll really be 'protecting' his lover or running away and hiding somewhere with them.

He just wants to fall in love and not go insane, a reasonable request, if he hadn't seen the worst that the world has to offer. It's just wishful thinking, sweet dreams for a boy designed to attract trouble.

He doesn't want to have conversations with his dead lover's head. He doesn't want to wear their skin and waltz around town. He doesn't want any of that creepy, supernatural stuff that destroyed his parent's love.

He just wants normal. But as the years slip by Jorge's grip on "normal" slowly begins to decay.

Normal is something, but what that something is has become a blur. Normal isn't vampires and zombies and ghost clowns that throw nooses around people's necks...Yet on the other hand maybe it is?

He's so far gone that he can't even differentiate between methodical and irregular. His brain's capacity to understand the difference has gotten so altered and broken.

Once he finds his darling he does try to act like the ordinary people of the Canary Islands or England, depending on where he's residing at the time. He tries to follow the mode, just to impress his lover. It's a façade, a bloody masquerade that's bound to deteriorate once he and his lover have settled down.

Although a poetic, domestic life had always been Jorge's dream, he soon comes to learn that it just doesn't suit him. Jorge's paranoia starts to increase. It's comical at first, the way his eyes dart to closed doors, half expecting a killer to emerge. Although the same paranoid tendencies can become rather smothering at times. He's all so certain something is going to jump out of the shadows, some creature with sharp fangs and knife-like claws is going to rip his lover's body to rags.

He's gotten rather umbrageous now that he's the one who's married and living in the Joestar estate. His tendency to run away from any form of conflict has morphed into a rogue-like sense, much similar to a rabid dog barking at anyone who gets too close to its territory. He keeps his darling locked away inside, triple-checking the locks to make sure no one or thing can get in. He avoids the probing disquieting neighbors who still speak ill of his widowed mother and murmurs about the "curses" bestowed on the Joestar bloodline. Sometimes even getting physical when the insults shift towards him and his new lover.

Punches are thrown.

Insults exchanged.

And then the door and windows are locked once more.

Leaving both Jorge and his darling in the chilling company of the semi alive shadows.

It's safer in the basement. It has to be safer down there. After all his mother kept his father's severed head down there for decades before anyone found it. So it's only sensible that his lover will also be safe, tucked away in the darkness of a brick room some few meters under the earth. He's not acting like his mother -and deep down he prays that this isn't something his late father would ever even consider doing- It's a thin line of justification, but he can reason with himself so long as he knows it's not something his other family members have ever done. He does try to keep his darling comfortable down there. Buying them the most luxurious furniture and comfortable bedding. Constantly bringing them new forms of entertainment.

Keeping them in this preserved state is what any reasonable person would do. Not just another insanity driven Joestar.

"It's for your own safety" he's repeated that phrase an umpteenth amount of times, although every time the sculpted words leave his tongue, Jorge becomes less sure of who he's really trying to convince.

Jorge is all so sure that he's doing all of this for both his lover's safety and to erase whatever misfortune follows around the Joestars, like an airy plague. Even his enrolling for the great war is done with this mindset...

Even though in the end it's also this mindset that gets him killed. Leaving his darling a wide window to freedom.

"Darling, what do you think when you look at me?"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

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pinketine · 3 years ago

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Crawls out from my pit

Psst, hey, kid, want some Joey/Lost Empire headcanons? Because I sure have some!

OK so all of these hinge on the empire's name and him once saying his empire can only be found if you're lost lets go!

-So I think that the Lost Empire once existed a long time ago, and crumbled

-Joey was alive when it first existed and fell, but died/was put to sleep so that one day he could wake up and restore the empire

-That's why he made the deal with Xornoth, so that his empire will never ever be harmed again. Nothing can touch you when you're at the top, right?

-Its language is lost to time, with Joey being the only one still fluent in it. For some reason, he seems to be rather secretive and guarded about it

-He still talks to himself in it, though

-The Lost Empire is also where lost things go, so it's common to see ghosts wandering around

-Fire/Warmth is one of the most important things to empire (read: Joey). It's in a jungle of course, and Joey built a fire temple first. And warmth means not being dead, it means being alive for him

-Also why totems are so important to him, they're a symbol of undying, revival and all that

-They are also his kingdom's anti corruption item, which deep down he saw coming since they're gold, and gold heals

-It doesn't help that he uses them so much that they're practically ingrained in him, corruption burning to ashes when he touches it for too long. There's a reason he never fully goes through with touching Xornoth after all.

-It also just repels any effects the corruption has on him, he's really just Like That

-He also shimmers slightly in the right light

-I could talk about them so much Holy shi-

#empires smp #joey graceffa #joey my beloved #the one where they are all royalty #505 Radio #AAAAH I SUCK AT WORLDBUILDING #But like i need to talk about him i have so many ideas idk how to put into words #hhhh #whatever.#take my trash ramblings :p #my blog my rules

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kylosgenesis · 4 years ago

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Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

warnings: quick mentions of minor character deaths, A/B/O dynamics

Chapter 1: No longer children

The nights in the outskirts were loud, filled with crickets, and nature! The smell of the woods is all she'd ever known, her mom was exiled from the pack when she was pregnant with her, but only a select few knew of her existence. Those who did, protected her mom out of respect. She was kind and strong, she brought her daughter up on her own in a harsh, and desolate part of the woods. Still within pack territory, but at least an hour journey on car. Following the waterfall all the way to the bottom creek where the water came to a halt, and the cascade fell into a peaceful flow, That’s where she called home. There was only just an abandoned hunting cabin back then, but her mom rebuilt it with bloodshed, and tears. For a long time she managed on her own!

Winnifred Barnes was a kind woman, the only other person she'd ever known, Winnifred was a beta from the same village her mother came from. Every so often she would sneak out of the village, and travel down unto the creek with supplies, and fresh bread to deliver to them. She barely saw her, but her favorite memories involved her. She had a son, his name Was James, but he hated being called James. He went by Bucky.

~15 years ago~

“Here fishy fishy, I’m a friend” she'd had taken out a fish trap to the creek and spent the entirety of the morning watching fish just swim by her feet as they neatly avoided the trap she'd set up “ fishy, fishy please come “ she'd sighed in frustration! Whenever her mom came to the river, she made it look so effortless. She would just sing, and it was like animals wanted to be surrounded by her presence! It never took long for them to catch dinner and return home. “ Maybe it's because you're scaring the fish away with all the talking and paddling your making!” Bucky said with a smirk!

~flashback end~

Looking back, that was her first memory of Bucky. He was older than her. Maybe 12 at the time. He didn't let that stop him from being her friend. He taught her to fish that day! She went home with three small trouts and some catfish. she was stoked to show her mom the progress she'd made! She knew her mother often worried about her. She was alone, but Bucky brought a spark of life and joy into her life, she couldn't quite comprehend.

Years went by like that! She saw Bucky almost every week! He taught her everything she knew now!

They hunted together! Fished! Started fires!

They could spend hours around the woods within their own imaginations. She'd pretend that the king of the forest had kidnapped her, and hide! Bucky would use his tracking skills to find her! He was always the knight in shining armor, and they'd be gone for hours within our own world. As she grew older, she knew his interests would one day shift!

They stopped playing like kids, his body began to change, and her body did too. She no longer imagined the trees were magical , and she was a princess! Bucky no longer was the knight to the rescue! The world started to become more real, and her childlike imagination faded! Along with her favorite memories of Bucky.

It was the day of her tenth birthday! Winnifred showed up with a delicious tart, she was so exited when she heard her voice from across the cabin, her little heart nearly burst with excitement as she raced to meet her. Her happiness faced as she noticed Bucky was not with her! He hadn't come!

He had presented an alpha! He had officially grown up and had a different mindset now, he'd have duties and would soon start his own life. His days without responsibilities were over, He had a new life and had to to help take care of a pack now!

She had cried all day that day, her mom could tell she was inconsolable! Once again she was alone! Her only friend was gone, and it was just the two of them once again! She knew Bucky wasn't dead, but as the years went on without him it was like she was dead to him!

They saw Winnifred one a month at least, sometimes Rebecca, Bucky’s younger sister was with her. As Rebecca grew she too presented! She was a beautiful beta, it didn't take long for her to find a role and love within the pack.

Two years after Bucky stopped visiting had passed, and she was once again alone! She didn't know much about the people from the village, but Rebecca painted beautiful stories with her words about her friends and the guy she wanted to be mated to.

She used to fall asleep to her stories, and would imagine what they were all like! How Bucky was doing? what if she was there? What did being in love feel like?

Secluded from the world she loved books! They were her escape into any world she could wanna be in. As she grew older hunting became less fun, and more of a necessity! Her mother was growing older and weaker, she could see the strain that household tasks did to her body. She no longer sang when she cooked, the piano she used to play sat in the corner untouched, only collecting small specks of dust. Her life, just seemed monotone to her. Wake up, live, repeat! it was like she gave up living, while still being very alive! Losing a mate would often take a physical toll on the body, as well as an emotional one. She had noticed that when her mom lost her Pa, she lost half of herself along with him! She tried to be strong, but without a bond your body starts to become frail! Winnifred said her mother used to light the whole pack with her smile and kindness! She was so beautiful there wasn't a day she didn't have fresh flowers from prospects at her door, and that was long before she presented a as a beta.

She began to take responsibility for housework, gardening, and making sure there was protein on the table. In our household nothing went to waste! We used furs for shoes and clothing, Winnifred had been kind enough to donate us her old sewing machine once she was able to afford a new one.

Coming home from the lake after a long day of fishing, she tucked her old leather boots near the door. They were a couple of seasons old and needed to be reinforced with a new leather, but they were the best she could do with the nearly approaching winter season. Tossing the bucket full of freshly caught trout on the kitchen sink. She took the scales and bones out before neatly placing the fish on the freezer. It wasn't much, but it was enough to last through the harshest part of winter season. They still had a few months to prepare, but she didn't want to be caught off guard. Hunting big game was next on the list, they'd have enough to get them safely though.

After dinner they sat down near the fire! Her mom reminisced about her friends when she was young, and her father. Specially how much she loved him! You knew he was a good man, but it was no secret he had a temper, and a hard time taking orders. It was because of him you guys were banished! Her mom never wanted to talk about what happened, or how he died! She knew it must've been something bad. Despite everything they were lucky to be allowed within pack territory. Being outside a marked territory was very dangerous, and not many could survive the cruel nomad packs that would kill, steal, and rape any wondering females outside of a protected territory.

That night as she laid in her small bed. She looked to my side to see a hoodie. It was so small now! It used to belong to Bucky. She vividly remembered him giving it to her! One day, it got too dark, too soon! The walk back to the small cabin became straining to her small body. Bucky offered his hoodie to provide an extra layer of warmth. It still smelled like him! He smelled of pine and firewood with hints of fresh morning rain, his scent was comforting! Still to this day she couldn't let go of the thought of him.

Little did she know that would be the last time she saw Bucky!

That flashback brought her comfort, and soon sleep overcame her. Waking up the next morning felt as if she'd hunted an entire season, and hadn’t rested a second. Her hips were screamed for her to stay in bed longer, head spinning, and fluttering stomach, she pushed it all aside! She rose up to get herself some water, the thought of a nice warm tea with some fruits and maybe some nuts already alleviated her body, and caused her to salivate at the thought of relief.

As she walked into the kitchen to see her mothers usually tender eyes, She saw the opposite! Her mothers tender smile and eyes had fallen! Her eyes became filled with tears as she dropped her mug. Ignoring her aching body, she ran to comfort her in a hug! She hadn't seen her mother cry often, but at this very moment she sobbed, and looked at her in disbelief! It wasn’t tears of pride, it was pain that filled her words. She knew it was coming! They had hoped when the day came, she'd present as a beta, just like her mother! Her mother was apologizing with her soft sobs and tears. She had brought an omega into the world, the implications of being an omega without status or protection meant that a bad heat could kill her! Or a wandering cruel alpha could hurt her and claim her if I wasn’t careful.

This changed everything! She was an omega!

Bucky Barnes POV:

Bucky stepped out of his pickup truck. His hair was getting too long to handle, but he hadn’t had the time to get it cut. He had been away from the pack for what felt too long. He missed his mother’s cooking and the mead that Natasha's pub brewed fresh every morning. He couldn’t wait to shower, and become one with his bed.

Steve had entrusted him with a supply run for winter. Blankets, medicine, extra food and anything that could be used to fix an electric grid in case the power went out like the last few times. The village was nowhere near desolate or old, but the decline in births and the battles against other packs had left their village vulnerable.

Steve was his best friend! he had inherited the title of the pack leader from his father. He was caring, and would do anything in his power to keep his pack safe and prevailing! Bucky was only a year older than Steve! Growing up with him was the best childhood he could ever imagine. Steve’s father wasn’t as kind as forgiving as Steve was! Steve would often fall victim to his fathers outburst. His father needed a strong healthy Alpha heir, and Steve was small and often sickly.

His dad often reminded him he would never be a leader, and he probably wouldn’t make it past his fist designation season. When his father died ten years ago, little did he know that in only one summer that boy would tower over the pack at 6’5 and had the strongest and most intimidating glare a leader could have! What made him a leader was he had the heart, he was still that scrawny little kid on the inside, but with a giant heart.

Steve had fallen into his role as an alpha so naturally. He made sure everyone was taken care of! He took care of the widows! He made sure that the sacrifices their husbands made to protect the pack wouldn’t be in vain! He’d deliver wood and food from those supply runs Bucky would often make before every winter season. Steve and him were also 2 of the 4 teachers in the village. Wanda and Sam would take turns with the students as they tended to their own families as well. But Bucky knew that Steve was in a hard position, omegas were becoming rarer and rarer. The few omegas in the pack were already mated long before Steve presented. And the few unmated betas had difficulty getting pregnant. Less than 20 kids had been worn in the last 15 years, and that worried Steve! Their pack was declining in numbers and was soon gonna become vulnerable to invasion.

Bucky was grateful that his role as Steve’s right hand man was less straining than Steve’s. He was more of a warrior than a leader. He patrolled, and defended the pack from intrusions. He was the best hunter the pack had. Steve teased him about never crossing his way when he was on a mood, but he just loved the woods. He liked the calm! It reminded him of a simpler time, a time with her! He often wondered, how she was doing?

After he presented he had to leave behind all those childhood memories, it often hurt him to think of her. She was special, and kind. She must’ve been so hurt when he stopped coming over. When his mom first made him come with her to the outskirts to visit a friend, he had been so angry at his mom for not letting him stay over at Steve’s.

Seeing her near that creek trying to lure fish in by talking to them, he knew he’d never be the same! He assumed the role of a mentor in her life. He's spent years teaching her how to hunt and fish, and the best ways to start a fire, they even competed on who could hunt the biggest game. She was a little less than half his age, but she had a fire to her. They were equal in the woods and you couldn’t tell her otherwise.

Then one night they hunted for too long! Night came, the sky opened up to rain, the temperatures dropped; he could tell she was starting to grow tired. The hair around her face became wet, and her lips were quivering. She smelled different than she usually did, It was delicious and intriguing to him! She smelled of coconut and honey, but with small delicious hints of lavender.

He couldn’t pinpoint why he was able to smell her that night, but after driving home he was met with waves of pain and rage. Like he needed to run away, and stay locked in at the same time! That night he presented as an alpha! He realized the world smelled different now and everyone had a distinct smell. But nothing or no one has yet to ever smell as good as she did that night. He was scared of himself; he was an adult alpha now.

Looking back on the memories of her, he thought she’d probably be a lot older now. She probably wouldn’t even remember him. He was not a 16 year old boy anymore he had the battle scars and beard to prove it.

After delivering the supplies around the village and finishing his patrol, he drove home! His house wasn’t fancy or big, it was enough for him to just lay down, and occasionally read or watch some tv.As he pulled up into his muddy driveway, he saw his mom's car, it wasn’t weird for him that his mom was in his house. She often came around to do some cleaning, and drop off some warm food for him when she knew he’d be back from a long day.

When he entered his home there were two scents, his moms, and a scent he hadn’t smelled in ten years. It was her mom, but what was she doing here in his house with a look of pain on her face? Winnifred motioned him to sit down! Her mother looked older, she’d grown weaker since he last saw her. She also smelled different, but it wasn’t her smell! He could scent her, her smell was mixed with her mother’s, but still ever so lovely and potent. There was something scaring him about your smell though.

As to confirm his suspicions his mom met his confused gaze, and confirmed what he already suspected from that hint of her lingering smell. Bucky could barely breath, he felt like he'd received a punch to his gut.

She’d presented!

She was an omega!

He had to let Steve know! It was his duty to let Steve know of this omega, she could save the pack. She was the first unmated and fertile omega in the pack in the last 25 years. To keep her hidden would be a crime against the pack. Steve needed her, he deserved to have this happiness.

Then why did it hurt Bucky so much to give up this Omega?

Taglist: @austynparksandpizza

#alpha/beta/omega verse #bucky barnes x reader #alpha steve x omega reader #alpha Bucky x omega reader #steve rogers x reader #omega reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #alpha steve rogers #alpha bucky #bucky barnes must be protected #protective bucky #protective steve

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fly-like-a-phoenix · 3 years ago

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House of Lust (part 16)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: some mentions of violence and wounds, mentions of sex.

Odelle went to the dungeons in the morning, finding François sleeping on the ground, covered with the blanket. She actually thought he was dead for a minute, but he wasn't. He survived the punishment. And she didn't know how.

What she was thinking by now was about that empty bottle and that blanket. Who gave those to him? Was it you? One of the guards? Louis? Claude? One of the guests? No, they didn't know he was in the dungeons.

She opened the cell and approached him. She kneeled beside him and put her hand on his shoulder, moving him to wake him up.

"Abbé. Hey Abbé. Wake up. C'mon."

He started to open his eyes and, at the moment he saw Odelle, he jumped and moved to a corner, scared like if she was the product of a nightmare. He even thought he was dead, and she was a demon from a real Hell.

"Oh, do I scare you that much? That's nice!" She mocked. "Take this. Put them on." She throwed him a new cassock, shirt and trousers, and waited for him outside, smiling. He still had some bruises all over his body, and that made her feel good. But the lashes in his back somehow were cured. And she noticed it. It was impossible he did it alone. Someone must have help him.

Coulmier arrived at her side with new clothes, while he finished zipping the last buttons. He was breathing slowly. He frowned when he saw her standing and waiting for him. He wanted to kill her. It was the same feeling he always had while seeing doctor Roger-Collard.

He thought a lot about him those days in the dungeon. It reminded him a lot of the Charenton cell he made him go into. He thought a lot about Madeline too. And the Marquis. He dreamt about them. And you. He dreamt about you a lot.

"What the hell do you want now, Odelle? What are you going to make me do?" Said he, angry. His nails scratched the skin of his palms.

"I'm not going to make you do anything, Abbé. I'm done with you. I punished you because of what you did. But that's it. Today is the last day of the House of Lust this year. And you'll be free to go."

Was that true? He didn't trust her at all. But she didn't seem to be kidding. Maybe she was going to free him. Maybe it was true. But it was just a maybe. He didn't say anything else. He just glanced at her with hate.

"Now, go to Y/N chambers and clean yourself a little. Fix you hair. You're so handsome, but now you look horrible."

She smiled and left. He heard moans coming from a door next to where he stood. But it was a common thing by now, and he didn't mind about it.

He entered to your bedroom and found you sleeping. He approached to you in silence, sitting at the edge of the bed, extending his hand to touch your hair. You were fine. That was everything he wanted to know.

"Y/N, it's me." He said, and you woke. You scared at first, but then you recognized him.

"Abbé! Oh my God, I was so scared! Are you okay?" You hugged him quickly, not letting him a chance to go anywhere.

"I'm fine, Y/N. I'm... I'm fine. I'm alive." He smiled.

He broked the hug and looked at you im silence, right into your eyes. You kissed him with hunger, surprising him. But then, he continued with the kiss, touching your face and then your neck.

"I've missed you so much, François." You said, and his name in your lips caused something inside of him.

He started to cry suddenly. You didn't understand why, but you hugged him again, caressing his hair with pity. You didn't know what he had been through.

"Why are you crying, Abbé? What is it?"

"I thought your sister was going to kill me, Y/N. She... Let me in that cage like an animal. And, you know what? I didn't care about that. But then I thought about you, and I wanted to survive for you. I'm so glad you're fine! This are tears of joy!"

You hugged each other again, but when your hand caressed her back, he jumped with pain.

"What is it?" You said quickly, noticing he wasn't that right. You cupped his face with your hands. "You're not okay."

"No. Actually, I'm not." He smiled with pain in his eyes, tears still filling those green diamonds. "Your sister tortured me."

"What?! That fucking bitch! I'm going to kill her!" You screamed.

"Don't say those things, love." Coulmier cut what you were saying, putting his index finger in your lips. "I share the feeling, but tomorrow we will be free."

"You're right. I'm sorry, François. You're absolutely right. Tomorrow we can go to any place we wish, together."

"Actually, I want to talk with you about a couple of things---"

"Not here. Wait. Come with me to the bathroom. I'll give you a nice bath."

He smiled and followed you to the bathroom. He took off all his new clothes, and you couldn't help but put your hands in your mouth when you saw him naked. His back was all wounded with lashes. He had a stiched cut in his chest above the right nipple. And many bruises all over his skin.

"Josephine helped me." He whispered, in case anyone was outside. "She cured my wounds. You were right. She is not like Odelle."

"I told you she's nice. I hope she can get out of this place soon." You said, helping him enter the bathub, which was full of warm water. You started to clean the rests of blood from his back with care.

"I wanted to talk about that. I'm thinking she can go with us, at least while we go away from here. Do you agree?"

"Well... Yeah. She's my sister. And yes, she's done a lot of bad things, but I love her. It's a good idea. I agree."

You both stayed in silence a couple of minutes, just watching each other. You were washing his back with care and, when you ended, you started to give him a little massage in his chest and shoulders. He moaned a little because of the good feeling. After those days in the dungeons, it was nice to be back with you.

"Odelle makes a party every year when the days of the House of Lust are over." You explained. "We have to go and act normally. If anyone asks why they didn't see you these days, we can say you had a seminary."

"What happened these days I've been in the cell?" He asked with confussion.

"I don't know. I've been in a cell myself, Abbé. Odelle locked me up in my bedroom. Josephine brought me food and some water, and I had a bath just before you arrived."

"That bitch... I can't wait to be out of here, away from her." Said he, with hate. You couldn't blame him. You felt like that since many years.

"I need to ask you something, Abbé."

"Tell me." He responded, closing his eyes to feel your fingers massaging his scalp.

"When we were... You know... About to make love... And my sister found us..."

"Yeah...?"

"You said you had to confess something. What was it?"

François opened his eyes and looked at you briefly. He suddenly remembered how good you tasted, and the sounds you made while he was fucking you with his mouth and fingers just before he was taken to the dungeon. Yes. He had to confess something. Something awful. And surely you will understand.

"Do you know the 100 Days of Sodom? The book, I mean. It's a Marquis de Sade book."

"Yeah, my sisters have it in our library. Odelle reads it since it came out, and uses to practice somethings in here. Why?"

"Did you read it?"

"Some parts, just because she obligued me to do it. What has the book to do with your confession?"

He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath, like if what he was about to say was really painful for him. He shocked his head and, with notable shame in his eyes, he talked with low voice.

"It wasn't the Marquis de Sade who wrote it. It was me. Roger-Collard... The doctor who made me be an inmate... When the Marquis died, I started to write as if I was him. I heard his voice in my head, guiding my hand into the paper. When Roger-Collard knew about that, he made me write a long story to print as a book. He told everyone it was the last thing the Maquis ever wrote, but it was me."

"And what about that?" You said, not getting why was that so bad.

"If people is so wicked... If this House of Lust has it existense based in that book, as you said... It's all my damn fault. I... I was so away from God... With everything that happened in those days... My mind was full of demons. And I really understood why the Marquis had to write them."

There was an extended silence in the room, with you finally getting how bad it was for him to write such a nasty, bad and pervert tale as that. Who will imagine it? A priest writing those things!

"Hey. Look at me." You took his face in you hands. "No one has to know. Ever. And I will keep my mouth shout. I promise. It wasn't you who wrote it. As you said, it was the Marquis. But you don't hear him anymore, don't you?"

"No. I haven't hear his voice in a year."

"So, you are you. And that's everything is fine." You said, smiling. He smiled back and kissed you.

"Now, we have to go to the stupid party. This will end soon. And we will be free to do whatever we want."

You helped him to put his clothes again and, back in your bedroom, you brushed his hair with care. He looked at himself in the mirror, and you, standing behind him, approached to him and kissed his cheek.

"You're so damn handsome." You said, waiting for him at the bedroom's door. "And you look so fine... I don't think no one will ask anything odd."

"I'm fine thanks to you and Josephine. And you are magnificent and beautiful too." He responded, smiling, hugging you and kissing you again, as if he didn't spent three days in a cell after a painful and pleasurable torture. "I love you, Y/N."

Guests started to arrive to the dining room from their bedrooms while you smiled at him. It will be a long, weird day. You both knew that. But you didn't imagined what was coming. You had no idea...

Tagging: @darknessisafriend @five-miles-over @yukis-writing @thegirlwho @jokerflecker @missrockabilly99 @luperugorria99 @weirdflecksbutok @skaraboo @starksclown @sgtsavoytruffle @joaquinisart @sophiefleck @the-queen-of-things @ajokerfangirl @bailaycantaconmingo @joaquinphoenixdaily @joaquinfeed @beatlebabe1996

#joaquin phoenix #abbe x reader #quills #abbe de coulmier x reader #abbe de coulmier thirst squad #abbe de coulmier #abbe thirst squad #abbé de coulmier #marquis de sade #joaquin phoenix x reader

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