Prompt: 'How Protective Are They? Continuation! -- Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Lilia Vanrouge, and Jamil Viper
Requisitioner: Rin!
Warnings: None!
Words: 4022! (Purchase: Custom Fiction.)
A/N: Hello everyone! We've got another commission to be shared, requested over on my ko-fi! This one comes to you by the sponsor 'Rin!' -- Way back in the day, I wrote a fic detailing the TWST housewardens on a protectiveness scale in regards to their s/o. Rin asked me to bring that prompt back to surface and write for four characters of their choosing. Ah...I remember when I made that first post. I was reading the comments in the back of my calc II lecture and surely not thinking about solving proofs. Good times.
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Jade Leech
9/10
Jade is often considered the more ‘reasonable’ Leech. That is the first mistake people always make. They assume that because he smiles politely and speaks with indoor manners that he is somehow the ‘safer’ twin. More approachable. Less…ah, driven to extremes.
Incorrect. Catastrophically incorrect. Need we be reminded that as youth, Jade was the more difficult son for his parents to handle.
You see, he is rather the possessive sort in a sense that by the time you realize how serious the situation has become, it’s already too late.
One day you realize he has memorized your class schedule. The next? He is silently appearing beside you before you even noticed someone else was there to be a bother. It is genuinely unsettling how quickly he materializes whenever you are uncomfortable. Sometimes before you realize the feeling is about to settle in.
You carry a shadow that is towering, one that swamps your own in broad daylight.
Physically, Jade is not clingy in the traditional sense. He is not hanging off your shoulder or demanding affection in public. In fact, he is oddly respectful of your space…which somehow makes him more overbearing? He simply has eyes in the walls. You grow accustomed to the sense of being watched over with time, as he is worse than a helicopter mom at disney world.
A hand on the small of your back while walking through crowds. Casually steering you away from danger like you are a shopping cart with a broken wheel. If someone becomes too loud or aggressive near you, Jade inserts himself into the situation before you can speak.
And seven help the sad sack who touches you without permission.
Jade does not explode like Floyd or bark threats like Leona. No. He politely dismantles people with a shark-took grin. One warning is spoken with that overly pleasant customer service voice and suddenly the entire room feels humid.
“Oh dear. I’m afraid you seem to have mistaken my partner for someone interested in your attention. How embarrassing for you.”
People at Mostro Lounge learn very quickly that your name is not one to use carelessly in conversation, unless they want Jade’s attention - and trust me, that is not a fun prize. Gossip in his domain? Unless he thinks it is relatively harmless and might yield a cute reaction from you…nuh-uh-uh.
Jade understands social warfare better than nearly anyone at NRC. He knows secrets. Everybody has secrets. Azul collects contracts but Jade collects information, and if someone threatens your reputation? Congratulations. They have just volunteered for psychological warfare against a man who enjoys sampling poisonous mushrooms in his free time. Very Mao-Mao from ‘Apothecary Diaries’ core.
If someone DOES spread rumors about you? They tend to disappear before they gain traction. It is almost magical. One moment there is gossip circulating around NRC and the next the students involved are apologizing to you with sweat dripping down their backs while Jade stands nearby smiling like a proud parent at a piano recital.
You never find out what he did to make it happen. Snitches get stitches, you can ask whomever you like. No one is about to get on a Leech’s bad side. Especially anyone from the Coral Sea…they like having their gills intact, thank you very much.
In fact…your social circle seems to thin out. No one you’d miss, certainly. Anyone worth keeping around is already known by you before Jade’s fancy was stuck, after all. He just has a ‘quality’ that keeps bottom feeders away.
Jade is significantly more possessive than he pretends to be. He acts amused when people flirt with you. Smiles. Tilt his head. You’d think him entirely unbothered, if not for the slight twitch of his lower eyelid.
Meanwhile he’s mentally ranking the best burial locations on his usual mountain trails. He won’t do it. Just…let him tinker. He can only tolerate so much audacity from these people after all.
Unlike Floyd’s explosive jealousy, Jade’s comes in the form of increased politeness. That’s how you know he is upset. The sweeter he sounds, the worse the situation is. If someone is heavily flirting with you, Jade becomes attached to your side for the rest of the day. He won’t intrude unless you explicitly ask – discounting the times you’re unaware of his presence – but he does expect you to shrug the plebs off. Make an effort or his ire might have you backed up against a wall later that night.
Make no comment when he casually mentions your relationship status every three sentences either. Subtly, as he watches the offender making a move on you crumple like the trash they are and evaporate from his sight.
Yet…if it continues beyond flirtations? If someone dares to make a vulgar comment at you?
His terrariums gain new fertilizer.
No, because seriously. There is no situation where he’d let any sort of objectification or crude remark slide. Not interesting. Not funny. The only tolerable admiration is watching bottomfeeders deflate as they realize he’s already got the best pickings of the land. He can and will cut their tongues out.
“My, what a vulgar thing to say. I do hope for your sake that you simply misspoke…though judging by your expression, I suspect not. How unfortunate. Shall we continue this conversation somewhere private? People do become rather forgetful when they are trying to impress someone who is already spoken for, don’t they? ”
Jamil Viper
7/10
Jamil does not WANT to be protective.
That is important to understand first and foremost.
He already has enough responsibilities. Enough people depending on him. Enough stress. The last thing he needs is another person to worry over and yet somehow…there you are. Sitting comfortably in the center of his thoughts like you pay rent there. Mm.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
He’s a bit of his own worst nightmare. Jamil finds a partner who is competent insanely attractive. Nothing gets him going like a show of power…but his brain doesn’t have an ‘off’ switch. So he naturally tries to take charge in most situations and has a terrible time letting his guard down.
Because now he has to think about things like whether you ate today. Whether you got enough sleep. Whether Ace and Grim dragged you into another near death experience. He catches himself scanning crowds for your face automatically and gets irritated every single time he realizes he is doing it.
Just his luck that he’s fallen for the person with the self-preservation skills of a mosquito…ha..haha..hahaha.
Physically, Jamil is surprisingly attentive. Not overbearing, but hyperaware. He notices exhaustion before you say anything. Notices when your social battery dies. Notices when you are forcing yourself to smile through discomfort. He’s used to reading people.
He is the type to silently pull you away from overwhelming situations under the guise of something casual.
“Come help me with this for a second.”
Suddenly you are outside getting fresh air while he pretends to sweep the outer courtyard. .
Jamil is not loud about protecting you because loud attention is dangerous in his mind. He prefers subtle control over situations. Strategic positioning. Standing between you and someone sketchy without making a scene. Steering conversations away from topics that upset you. Making sure you get back to Ramshackle safely even if he acts like it is an inconvenience.
And yes. He absolutely keeps track of where you are. Give him your phone so he can add you to Life360. Just do it.
Not in a creepy way. In a “if something happens to you I will have a stress-induced migraine” way. He gets pissed when Grim takes your phone though. The headmaster seriously has you both sharing one? Just…look, take his old one. Don’t tell Kalim either. He’ll 100%% get you the newest model with an unlimited data plan, but Jamil isn’t about to have someone else doing what he can do for you just fine. Especially Kalim.
He especially hates when you wander around NRC late at night alone. This school has entirely too many weirdos, overblot incidents, and students with magical superiority complexes. The moment he finds out you went somewhere dangerous by yourself he is giving you ‘That Look’.
You know the one.
Socially, Jamil is vicious in the pettiest ways possible.
He does not have the authority of someone like Riddle nor the intimidation factor of Leona, so instead he weaponizes competence. If someone is rude to you publicly? Congratulations. Jamil is about to make them look stupid in front of everyone.
Not directly, of course. That would be messy.
But suddenly they are fumbling their words during class presentations because Jamil “helpfully” pointed out inconsistencies in their work. Suddenly they are losing arguments they thought they could win. Suddenly every flaw they have becomes painfully obvious because Jamil knows exactly how to press people until they crack.
He has years of experience surviving court politics. Some random teenager is light work.
The thing is, Jamil gets especially protective over your image because he understands what it feels like to have people make assumptions about you. So rumors? Harassment? People trying to paint you negatively? He…is guilty of doing that to others.
So he is able to detect the early signs of someone scheming. No one’s ripping at your confidence. He’ll end them.
Not only because he cares about you, but because he genuinely cannot stand unfairness directed toward someone he loves. You become one of the very few people he allows himself to prioritize emotionally and he takes that seriously.
Now jealousy?
…Yeah. Yeah Jamil has issues.
Not outwardly at first. He tries SO hard to play it cool. He tells himself he is being irrational. That you can handle yourself. That he trusts you.
Then he sees someone flirting with you too comfortably and suddenly his eye is twitching.
Jamil’s jealousy manifests through hovering and passive aggression. He starts inserting himself into conversations uninvited. Interrupting. Pulling you away under flimsy excuses. Offering to do things for you before someone else can. Oh, he is burning. That ego he tries to keep under a tarp is coming out at full force.
And the sass?
Unmatched.
“Oh? You suddenly developed interest in my partner after ignoring them for months? What a fascinating coincidence…sorry, what’s your name again?”
The worst part is that Jamil absolutely notices when people are attracted to you before they even realize it themselves. One lingering glance and he is already annoyed.
He also DESPISES overly touchy people around you. No one gets a pass. Kalim really pisses him off, but he has to bite it down. At least there’s the comfort of knowing it’s strictly platonic but still.
Your little first-year group? He has so much beef with Ace it isn’t funny. That ******* knows exactly what he’s doing whenever he slings an arm over your shoulder. Floyd? Every basketball practice is one where Jamil is tempted to spike the ball at the back of his head. He tolerates Grim, knowing that the menace is going to be there until the day you both die.
And if someone thinks to pass a vulgar comment? A cat-call? Mm. Patience isn’t always a virtue.
Jamil’s entire expression flattens like someone turned his emotions off manually. He gets cold in a way that makes people instinctively backpedal. Unlike some of the others, he is less likely to threaten violence and more likely to verbally flay someone alive with frightening precision.
He knows exactly what insecurities to target too. Doesn’t matter who it is. He can pick them apart in a few short moments.
“You know, confidence is attractive in moderation. Unfortunately for you, this is just embarrassing.”
Rook Hunt
8.5/10
Dating Rook is like accidentally befriending a very affectionate cryptid.
One day you are minding your business and the next you hear rustling in the trees followed by an enthusiastic Frenchman praising the way sunlight reflects off your hair. There is no such thing as privacy anymore. Not because Rook wishes to control you, but because he genuinely enjoys your existence so much that he cannot help orbiting around you constantly.
He is EVERYWHERE.
The scary thing? Half the time you do not even notice him until he speaks.
“Ah! Trickster! The way you leap away in surprise reminds me of a startled doe. Magnifique!”
Cardiac arrest. Immediate cardiac arrest. He ceases for the rest of the day but then is right back at it the next.
At first his protectiveness does not even register because Rook treats everything with fascination. He watches everyone. Compliments everyone. Appears out of nowhere for everyone. So naturally, you assume his attention toward you is just part of his personality.
Then you realize he has been tailing you across campus for three hours because you mentioned feeling unsafe walking alone after dark.
Romantic.
Terrifying, but romantic.
This man has the instincts of a hunting dog and the perception of a military drone.
You are never unsafe around him.
Ever.
Physically, Rook is actually extremely protective. Far more than people expect. Underneath all the theatrics and poetry is someone with terrifying awareness of his surroundings. Rook notices danger instantly. The shift in someone’s body language. A suspicious movement in the crowd. The subtle signs someone intends harm.
A student reaching for their pen? He sees it. Someone following you through the halls? Already aware. Suspicious noises outside Ramshackle at night? He is perched somewhere nearby like a Victorian gargoyle with a bow in hand. Sorry Malleus. This one is not fit for your club to study…unless?
Ahem. You genuinely cannot sneak up on this man.
And because of that? Nobody sneaks up on you either.
The issue is that Rook treats protecting you like an act of devotion. He enjoys it. Not in a creepy controlling way but in a “the hunter safeguards what he treasures most” way.
And unlike some of the others, Rook is willing to get physical FAST if he thinks you are genuinely threatened. People forget that beneath the dramatic monologues and layers of concealer is a man who hunts for fun.
For FUN.
One second someone is getting too aggressive with you. The next Rook is suddenly behind them smiling with their wrist pinned up against their back.
“Ah ah~ I would reconsider your actions, mon trésor’s comfort is far more important to me than your pride.”
The thing about Rook is that he rarely ‘sounds threatening. Which somehow makes him infinitely worse. He says horrifying things with the same tone someone would use to compliment flowers.
And LORD help the poor soul that genuinely hurts you somehow.
Rook becomes the physical manifestation of “I know where you live.”
His little ‘Oo la la~’ pitch that carries in the wind like fallen leaves suddenly turns into Krampus incarnate. Deep, guttural, and spoken directly into the perpetrator’s ear with a promise for something much worse than a beating with a straw broom and some coal in their stocking.
“Aha. No. We are not looking at mon coheur in such a manner. You may apologize now, or I will be forced to consider alternative persuasion. Un, deux, toi –”
Socially, Rook is extreamly supportive rather than controlling. He absolutely hypes you up constantly. Shamelessly….it’s very much the ‘Wear whatever you want, my darling. I know how to fight’ dynamic amped to maximum overdrive.
He will praise you in front of literally anyone with zero shame. Your intelligence, your beauty, your habits, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh—nothing is safe from his admiration. At first people think it is exaggeration because surely no one can speak this poetically about their partner twenty-four hours a day.
No. He means every word.
The issue is that this also means he becomes deeply offended when others speak poorly of you. Rook values beauty in all forms and to insult someone he treasures? Mon dieu. The audacity.
Rook does not argue normally. He psychoanalyzes people like he is peeling an orange. Someone makes fun of you once and suddenly Rook is smiling thoughtfully while pointing out all the hidden insecurities fueling their behavior.
In front of everyone.
“Oh? Such cruelty toward someone so radiant…could it be envy, perhaps? How unfortunate. To possess eyes capable of witnessing beauty and yet remain unable to appreciate it.”
Murder. Actual murder.
And because Rook is naturally charismatic, people listen to him. He can spin social situations terrifyingly fast. One minute someone is mocking you and the next they are being publicly pitied by half the room while Rook comforts you dramatically like the star actor of a tragedy play.
But jealousy? Hah! Listen.
Rook is a strange creature because he simultaneously understands why people are attracted to you while also wanting to put them in the ground for acting on it.
He appreciates beauty. Of course others admire you! How could they not? To him your existence is practically artwork.
So when others pursue you, he does not see them as something to dismiss. No. No. He will acknowledge their challenge…and you will find no one more competitive. He wants to win.
Which means the flirting somehow becomes worse. He is a peacock spreading its feathers while aiming a shotgun with its beak.
You think one person complimenting you is bad? Congratulations. Rook is now reciting poetry while kissing your hand in front of them with enough intensity to make bystanders uncomfortable.
He becomes unbelievably touchy too. Draping himself over your shoulders. Holding your waist. Tilting your chin toward him while maintaining eye contact with whoever dared flirt with you. If they want you, then they’ll have to offer you better than what he can provide. Which is impossible, because Rook spares no effort in ensuring you have everything you could ever want.
And if someone says something vulgar about you?
…they have a ten second head start.
Rook does not mind admiration, he encourages all beauty to be appreciated, but crude lust disgusts him. In his eyes it reduces something precious into something cheap and tawdry. He takes it personally, like someone smeared mud over a painting.
He merely teases the brim of his hat, ducks his chin low, and fixes the offender with sharp eyes and the terrifying realization that this man could absolutely hit a bullseye through their skull from fifty yards away.
“You speak of them so carelessly…how terribly sad. To witness something so precious and reduce it to vulgarity. I highly suggest you choose your next words with greater care, monsieur. ”
Lilia Vanrouge
6.5/10
At first glance, Lilia does not seem protective at all.
If anything, he encourages chaos.
Go explore dangerous places! Fight strong opponents! Experience life! Make reckless memories! Half the time it feels like he is actively encouraging your bad decisions while Sebek is somewhere nearby having a stress-induced aneurysm over it.
Lilia is not controlling. Not even remotely. Rather than stop you from pursuing danger, he’s walking into it at your side.
He does not hover over your shoulder monitoring who you speak to or where you go. He will not cage you up “for your safety” because frankly? That sounds dreadfully boring to him. Lilia fell in love with YOU. Your spirit. Your freedom. Your ability to live fully despite fear.
Why would he take that away?
No, if you are with Lilia then you are expected to spread your wings and enjoy life to its fullest. He wants stories. Excitement. Late night walks, spontaneous adventures, troublemaking, dancing on rooftops because “the moon looks lovely tonight.”
He treats love like something alive. Something meant to grow unrestrained instead of being locked away. He’s waited seven-hundred years for this chance and will not waste a second of it.
Which honestly makes people underestimate him terribly.
Because while Lilia is not overprotective in everyday situations…
He IS an elder fae. Even those of lower status are raised not to take matters of the heart lightly. Your soul is an extension of his own.
The man could probably locate you in a foreign country with nothing but a vague description and a prayer. You will be halfway across campus thinking you're alone only to hear his voice from a tree branch.
"My, my. Fancy seeing you here."
He truly is an extension of your person now. While not tethered for centuries, he is quite fond of being a phantom limb of yours.
Which becomes obvious the moment someone truly threatens you. He does not mince his words or offer mercy to those who threaten his family. Kingscholar was very fortunate to be spared after targeting Malleus during the spelldrive tournament during your first year in wonderland. Remember how brutal Lilia’s words struck.
There is a massive difference between Lilia finding your recklessness amusing and someone else harming you intentionally. One earns laughter. The other earns silence.
And silence from Lilia Vanrouge is one of the most terrifying things a person can experience.
Because Lilia does not posture.
He does not threaten.
He does not growl warnings or puff out his chest.
He simply decides that someone is dangerous.
Then acts accordingly.
People often forget that beneath the jokes, the gaming addiction, and the culinary war crimes is a former general. A man who spent hundreds of years protecting a royal family through actual conflict. Lilia has survived war. Buried friends. He knows exactly how far he is willing to go for the people he loves.
Which is as far as his body can take him. Lilia would die for you without hesitation.
Not in the romanticized “I’d take a bullet for you” way either. In the very literal, non-negotiable sense that he has already accepted the possibility long ago. Loyalty is woven into Lilia so deeply that protecting his loved ones is practically instinctual.
Which is why anyone who thinks otherwise, dares to even tinker with the thought of harming you, is scheduling an audience with General Vanrouge.
Socially, Lilia is surprisingly relaxed. He has lived too long to care about petty gossip (although he does enjoy hearing it). Rumors roll off him like water because honestly? Most students at NRC are children to him mentally. Why would he value their opinions over yours?
That being said, he DOES care if the rumors genuinely hurt you.
Not because your reputation reflects on him, but because he cannot stand seeing someone he loves feel isolated or targeted. Lilia knows what loneliness feels like better than most people ever will. He still will not intervene though, not beyond offering a distraction to make you smile.
Honestly? He finds caring about that sort of thing silly. With time you’ll understand and think the same, of that he’s certain.
If someone dislikes you, they dislike you.
If someone talks badly about you, then they are showing their own character.
Most of the time he laughs it off. "Mhmm. Are they finished? Goodness, they seem to think about you more than I do."
Now jealousy?
Pshh. Manageable. A dime in a dozen.
Lilia feels secure in your relationship. He does not panic over every passing flirtation because he trusts you and frankly finds some situations funny. Watching younger students awkwardly attempt to woo you while he sits nearby smiling into his tea is genuinely entertaining to him.
He especially enjoys making them nervous. “Oh? Trying to court my darling? My my, how brave~”
Although he is not against blipping in if harmless flirtations progress to crude vulgarity or a breach of boundaries. Which is unfortunately common with youth that possess egos with more concentrated power than the sun. The moment someone dares to say something genuinely degrading about your person, he eases in with the air of someone far superior and reminds the offender to view a specific chapter in their history textbook. He normally isn’t fond of his pictures in those books, but surely they have their uses.
“Tsk, what an ugly thing to say. Careful now…there are far crueler creatures in this world than me, child. You ought to learn some manners before you meet one.”
You were lucky.
People often say that good and bad luck are interwoven like the strands of a rope, but whether you can actually endure until the good comes after the bad is entirely a matter of luck itself.
In that sense, you considered yourself fortunate.
Stumbling into another world by complete accident was undoubtedly the "bad luck" part.
You thought you had just stepped onto the platform of your usual station during your morning commute to university, but suddenly, you were in an entirely different world. The train you had supposedly just stepped off was nowhere to be seen; behind you stood nothing but a single, massive full-length mirror.
It was quite some time later when you finally learned that the mirror was a magic item called a "Gate" used by the people of this world for transportation.
Because you happened to be taken into custody in a public area, you were officially recognized as a victim of a Gate-related accident. When government officials explained to you that returning to your original world would be difficult, the only response you could muster was a blank, hollow, "Oh…"
It wasn't the kind of reality you could swallow right away—the fact that you had strayed into a world filled with magic and different races, and that you could never go back to your old world where your family, friends, and everything else had been left behind.
While you were still in that daze, your custody was transferred to a private volunteer organization.
"Custody" made it sound intense, but they didn't do anything drastic. It was essentially a homestay. You ended up living with an elderly couple who ran a small café, being taken care of under their roof. In exchange for working as a shop clerk, they looked after your food, clothing, and shelter. You even received a modest salary.
While learning all sorts of things about this world from the elderly couple, you spent your days living a modest, quiet life.
You had lost everything, but somehow, you were still managing to live a reasonably decent human life. I guess I really am quite lucky, you thought to yourself, and so, you continue to live each day with resilience.
The small café run by the elderly couple seemed to be operated mostly as a hobby, so the stream of customers was sparse. At least since you had started working as a shop clerk, the customers could be counted on your fingers each day.
Among those precious regulars, there was an exceedingly handsome man. He had a tall stature that required you to look up at him, and his vibrant, sea-colored hair was streaked with a single lock of black. His facial features were as perfectly sculpted as a doll's, and his sharp, slanted eyes held an intellectual air. He was a man more beautiful than any other human being you had ever known.
Almost as a daily routine, he would come in nearly every day, finish his breakfast and a single cup of tea, and then depart.
At first, you did nothing more than bring him his orders. Before long, however, the two of you began to exchange casual small talk. While at first glance he possessed a rigid, icy beauty that seemed to push others away, once you actually spoke with him, he turned out to be surprisingly pleasant and quite an interesting person.
He loved mountains, mushrooms, and his brother, holding them all very dear. While he usually showed up in the morning wearing a high-end suit, on his occasional days off, he would sometimes appear in the evening dressed in hiking gear. On those occasions, he would always give you a bounty of mushrooms as a souvenir.
Although you knew absolutely nothing about the mushrooms of this world, you did have some knowledge regarding mushroom dishes. You would fry them into tempura or cook them into seasoned rice, and as time went on, the instances of sharing the food you made and eating together naturally increased.
"The batter is so crispy and delicious."
The man happily spoke with his mouth stuffed full of mushroom tempura. He was so endearingly charming that it almost verged on cute, making you think to yourself that, one way or another, you might actually be quite lucky after all.
Having arrived in an alternate world after losing everything, you had somehow been granted a place to belong. And now, you had even managed to make a rare, irreplaceable friend.
Of course, bad things happened too.
There was the time you went out shopping and were cornered and threatened by a strange man. Another time, an unpleasant customer harassed you and threw coffee all over you. Even so, having a friend you could vent to, telling him everything that happened that day, was incredibly reassuring.
Whenever his calm, low voice assured you, "Everything will be alright," you felt as though everything truly would be. And in fact, strangely enough, you never encountered those nasty crowds a second time. That was why you continued to spend your days in a leisurely, peaceful manner.
Eventually, you ended up moving in and living with him.
The house of the elderly couple where you had worked and lived for so long was completely destroyed in a fire. The flames raged all through the night, burning your room, the shop, the memories you had made since coming to this world, and every single bit of the savings you had meticulously scraped together down to ashes. Standing before the charred ruins where thin plumes of white smoke drifted upward, you could only freeze in sheer daze, still dressed in the same pajamas you wore when you were jolted awake by shouts of "Fire!" and dragged outside.
You had lost both your home and your workplace.
The elderly couple apologized profusely, telling you they could no longer look after you. They bowed deeply to you, before trudging away with heavy, sorrowful steps. In the end, the cause of the fire remained entirely unknown.
As you stood there, utterly at a loss, he arrived by your side.
"If you don't mind, would you like to come to my room?"
When he extended the invitation, all sorts of calculated survival thoughts raced through your mind. The sheer guilt of calculating costs against someone so genuinely kind to you, combined with the bitter frustration of being unable to maintain even a shred of human dignity, caused fat tears to finally spill from your eyes, fat and heavy.
Because you liked him, your ideal would have been to properly tell him your feelings, have them reciprocated, start dating, and eventually move in together as a natural next step. You didn't want to look so pitiful, as if you were trying to exploit his sympathy. You didn't want to take advantage of his kindness just to save yourself. Because you truly, deeply liked him.
Your mind was a chaotic mess. Yet, your conscience refused to let you be so underhanded as to just cling to him without saying a word. Sniffling softly, you spoke with a tone that almost sounded like a desperate threat: "Am I allowed to take that… to mean that kind of meaning?"
A hint of a chuckle bled into the man's breath. Gently wrapping his arms around your soot-stained back, he held you close.
"I would be delighted if you took it to mean exactly that."
His voice sounded so genuinely happy, and the arms holding you were so strong, robust, and incredibly warm, that you completely broke down. For the first time since arriving in this alternate world, you wailed aloud, weeping for everything that had been utterly lost.
You had saved up your earnings bit by bit, and you had finally managed to build up a decent amount of savings. Your plan had been to look for an apartment and start living on your own. You had been thinking that once you did, you might finally be allowed to turn your gaze toward something like love, as a normal human being.
And yet, it had all turned to ash.
You wept until the high-end suit he wore became damp, cold, and soaked with your tears. Utterly exhausted from crying and left in a daze, you were guided to his room.
The place he lived in was an apartment building located not too far from the shop that had burned down. It was a fine apartment—an ideal suite for a single man to live in. And that was where you ended up moving in.
"Please do not worry about money," he had told you.
He also suggested, "Why don't you take it easy and rest for a while?"
Leaning on his words, you spent some time staying strictly indoors. You unraveled his collection of books, tended to the housework, cooked meals, and waited for his return. They were peaceful days. You felt as though the wounds in your heart, raw from the fire, were healing bit by bit.
Eventually, you began to venture outside again, little by little. You felt it wasn't right to remain completely dependent on his care forever, so you decided to look for a job. You figured that as long as you weren't picky about the type of work, there would be positions available even for someone from another world. Surprisingly, however, the job hunt proved to be a struggle.
Even when you felt a first interview had gone well, a rejection notice would arrive after a short while. Though you managed to secure a few temporary, day-labor gigs, within a few days the job bosses began to avoid you, leaving you to wonder what you could possibly be doing wrong. They acted as if they were terrified of something, even fearing to lock eyes with you.
Wondering why on earth this was happening, you tilted your head in confusion and consulted the man about it.
Drooping his eyebrows in a troubled manner, he murmured with a look of deep concern, "There may have been some sort of misunderstanding."
You lacked knowledge of this world. You possessed no means of survival here. Because of that, you worried that you might have unknowingly committed some sort of terrible faux pas—a mistake so awful it made them decide they never wanted anything to do with you again.
After repeating this cycle several times, you were still refusing to give up and were searching for a job once more when it happened.
"Are you really that desperate to escape, girl?"
When you asked if there might be any work available at a consultation desk nestled in a corner of the city hall, the sullen clerk lowered his voice, casting a wary glance at his surroundings.
" Huh…?"
You had no idea what he was talking about. You could only blink, rounding your eyes in sheer confusion.
"This entire area is the territory of those monsters," the clerk whispered, his tone suggesting that even uttering the word was repulsive. "If you want to run, get on a bus right now. Take the one leaving from Berth 3, and you can get out of this town. Here."
Stealthily, as if hiding it beneath a stack of documents, he slipped something into your hands. It was a small wad of bills.
You were utterly bewildered. You had merely gone to consult him about wanting a job; why on earth had the conversation shifted to fleeing the town? What did he even mean by "monsters"? Did such terrifying beasts truly exist in this world?
Yet, the clerk’s face was deadly serious. He did not look like he was joking in the slightest.
"Just take it, quick! If they find out, it’s over for me too…!"
"Seriously, what the hell did you even do to make those monsters this obsessed with you…?" he muttered under his breath, grumbling in a hushed whisper that sounded like a frantic monologue meant to distract himself from his own mounting terror.
You tightly clutched the few bills that had been shoved into your palm.
You didn't understand what was happening. Even so, you couldn't shake the chilling sensation that something terrible was unfolding somewhere entirely beyond your knowledge. You felt a suffocating claustrophobia, as if you might look up to find every single escape route completely cut off.
Nothing tangible had actually occurred yet. Perhaps you were just overthinking it; perhaps the clerk was simply so dead serious that his sheer panic, anxiety, and dread had proven contagious.
"Alright, next in line, please."
Returning to his sullen facade, the clerk spoke up, practically shooing you away. Yet, his eyes remained locked onto yours, staring intently as if desperately pleading for something.
"Th-thank you very much!"
Leaving it at that, you turned on your heel and practically fled from the city hall, your footsteps quickening by the second.
Berth 3 at the bus stop.
You had no idea what was pursuing you, nor what it was that you were supposed to fear. Yet, if you boarded the bus leaving from that very platform, would you truly be able to escape the clutches of the "monster" the clerk had spoken of?
With a heavy, dragging tread, you walked the path toward the bus stop.
You didn't understand what you were doing. You didn't understand why you were trying to leave this town. You didn't understand why you were attempting to run away from the man who had said he liked you, and who had so gently taken upon himself the burden of your entire life. Your footsteps grew heavier, weighted down by the nagging doubt of whether it was truly right to do such a thing.
Leaving this place.
Departing from his side.
What would happen to you after that? What would change? You simply didn't know.
Your slow, sluggish pace came to a sudden, dead stop.
And then, upon your back, a calm, gentle voice descended.
"My, my. Whatever is the matter, standing in a place like this?"
"Jade-san…"
You slowly, hesitantly turned around.
The smiling man drooped the outer corners of his eyebrows in a look of deep concern at your state. Gently closing the distance between you, he softly wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
"You look like a lost child. Did something happen?"
"No… it's just, I don't really understand anything anymore."
"You don't understand?"
"There are so many things I don't understand, and… I just got a little scared."
"…"
A soft, quiet chuckle bled into the man's breath.
"You must be exhausted. It was right after that terrible fire, after all. You have been through something far more frightening and deeply wounding than you even realize. That is why… that must be why you felt the urge to flee from this town where the fire happened."
"Is that… really why?"
"Yes, I am certain of it."
You had only ever known this town since arriving in this alternate world. The house where you had lived with that elderly couple was your precious sanctuary in this universe. Losing it to the fire meant losing the only place you had managed to build for yourself here. Because this town was the setting for such an awful, terrifying event, was that why you had wanted to run away?
The arm draped gently over your shoulders pulled you into a tight embrace. He held you close, squeeze, as if softly shielding you from the world.
"Everything will be alright. I am right here with you."
"…………Okay."
The arms embracing you were gentle, warm, and comforting. Against the man’s slightly cool body temperature, the unidentified anxiety and terror felt as though they were slowly, loosely melting away.
"Jade-san."
"Yes?"
"Do you happen to know… anything about a monster?"
Slowly, the man leaned down to look into your face. His beautiful, slanted eyes gazed at you, reflecting nothing but pure sincerity.
And then, he spoke.
"No? I haven't the slightest idea."
■□■
You walked back, side by side with the man.
Straight back into the monster's den.
And a few days later, when you visited the city hall once more, that sullen clerk was no longer there.
You would undoubtedly never cross paths with him ever again.
■□■
He was lucky.
At first, he had simply caught wind of a rumor circulating among his underlings by pure chance. A rumor that there was a woman in town who claimed to have strayed into this world from another universe.
When he looked into the details, he found that the woman had supposedly arrived in this town due to a Gate accident, leaving her unable to return to either her original destination or her former home. Ultimately, she had been taken into custody by the local city hall, taken in by a volunteer organization, and was now reportedly scraping by a modest living in a quiet corner of this town.
What could another world possibly be like? Driven by such curiosity, Jade took some time between his duties to visit the place where she had been taken in.
It was a small shop tucked away in a narrow alley, a short distance from the bustling downtown district. The owners were an elderly couple who lived in the residence on the second floor. She was apparently working there as a live-in clerk.
With a crisp clink, the bell chimed as he stepped inside.
"―――"
His eyes met with yours, a petite girl rounding your eyes in sheer surprise. Jade, too, blinked in astonishment. He had absolutely no idea why a clerk would look so shocked just because he had walked into a café.
While Jade was indeed an executive of Monstro—the mafia that controlled the underbelly of this town—he found it hard to believe that his true identity could be known even to someone who had only just arrived here from another universe.
Furthermore, the youthful, innocent appearance you possessed caught his attention. According to Jade's prior investigation, the woman from another world was supposed to be an adult. Yet, the woman standing right before his eyes looked young enough to still pass for a student.
You had long, glossy black hair, and deep black eyes that held a faint hint of warm brown around the edges, much like coffee. Your smooth, cream-colored skin was fair, yet it lacked the pale, bluish undertone that would reveal the veins beneath. While he still couldn't entirely bring himself to believe whether you truly came from another world, it was certain that you were at least not a native of these parts.
As you locked eyes with Jade, you offered a bashful smile and gave a small, polite bow.
"I’m sorry, I just wasn't expecting any customers to come in."
It was a comment that hardly sounded like something a shop clerk would say.
Turning on your heel, you guided Jade to a table by the window. There were no other customers inside the shop besides him. Behind the counter, the elderly couple stood still as if in a light slumber. He thought to himself that your remark about not expecting anyone to show up might not have been a lie after all.
After ordering a cup of tea and a meal from the menu, Jade began to observe you. While he had no immediate duties to attend to, you sat at the counter, spreading out a book and a notebook. A brief glimpse of the book's title revealed it to be something meant for children attending elementary school.
Finishing the meal—which turned out to be nowhere near as terrible as he had braced himself for—Jade casually questioned you during the checkout, as if the thought had just crossed his mind.
"What is that for?"
"Oh, this?"
You drooped the outer corners of your eyebrows in that bashful manner once again.
"You don't have to believe me, but… I actually come from another world."
"Another world?"
"Yes. For some reason, I can understand the spoken language perfectly fine, but reading and writing seem to be completely out of the question for me. That's why I'm studying it from scratch."
As you spoke, a shy, innocent smile played on your lips. How endearing, he thought.
At the same time, within your ability to honestly expose your own vulnerabilities, he detected both the strength and the weakness unique to someone raised in a thoroughly gentle environment. Weak people always try to hide their flaws. It is precisely because they conceal them that those flaws become targets for exploitation. Yet, you made no attempt to hide yours at all.
Was it that you simply didn't know the inherent danger of being deceived or taken advantage of in the first place? Or did you know the risks, yet understand that it was better not to hide them? He found it profoundly intriguing to wonder which of the two it might be.
Tucked away in a narrow alley with so few patrons, the quiet café turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. Enclosed by walls on all sides, the tiny establishment was always lit by the exact same dim, mellow glow, making it feel as though time itself had ground to a halt. Though clearly well-maintained, the aged furnishings sat in their designated places, carrying themselves with the dignified air of fine antiques.
Jade began to frequent the shop.
He pretended to be a regular office worker employed at a company nearby. Weekday mornings, and evenings on days off. Showing up at hours typical for an ordinary salaryman, he spent his time at the café as a regular customer.
As he continued to do so, his opportunities to converse with you increased.
It seemed you truly did come from another universe. The world you described possessed a level of consistency far too detailed to be mere fiction. It was a world entirely devoid of magic. Apparently, merfolks did not exist there either. To someone from such a world, the stories shared by Jade—a resident of this reality—seemed profoundly fresh, and no matter what he talked about, you listened with genuine delight.
You had no idea that Jade was a monster. You had no idea that he was the second-in-command of the organization that controlled this entire town from the shadows. You conversed with him as if he were just an ordinary office worker, just a man named Jade. You listened to his words, your sweet, soothing laughter bubbling softly in response.
Jade came to love the almost tedious tranquility he experienced at the shop above all else. Especially after ruthlessly handling blood-soaked, violent cleanups, the time spent in that tiny café was an irreplaceable solace.
Everything changed the day you were harmed by a male customer.
It was a form of extortion. The customer made a bogus claim that he had been burned by the coffee, demanding an apology and compensation, and threw the hot coffee directly onto you. The elderly owner had no choice but to wrap some cash up, shoo the customer away, and tend to your injury.
The white bandage wrapped plainly around your smooth, cream-colored wrist looked incredibly painful, and the blistered, red burn beneath the wrapping looked even more agonizing.
At that exact moment, Jade thought to himself, completely devoid of emotion: Ah, I don't think I can forgive this.
Having his territory trampled and seeing you harmed by a vulgar intruder, Jade finally recognized his own obsession for the very first time. He found it utterly unendurable that you could be damaged in a place completely beyond his knowledge.
Therefore, his first step was to discreetly buy out the shop and make it his own.
As for the man who had trashed the establishment, Jade made sure he paid dearly for what he did. By now, the man was likely at the dark, quiet bottom of the sea, deeply reflecting on his actions. This place was the monsters' territory. It was under Jade's control. There was absolutely no need to show leniency to anyone who dared to interfere.
Adding a little extra on top of the buyout price for the shop, he ensured the elderly couple's silence. They, who had always kept their eyes downcast as if in a light slumber and worked in quiet reticence, widened their eyes for the very first time when their regular customer showed up as a monster to conduct the transaction. They looked at Jade, their gaze heavily laced with terror and bewilderment. The warm eyes that had once watched your interactions with him with a gentle smile were no longer there. They were the eyes of people looking at a monster.
Yet, you knew nothing.
Completely unaware that the legal owner on the registry had changed, you spent your days just as you always had, smiling peacefully. Your coffee-colored eyes always reflected Jade with sweet tenderness, and you laughed with genuine delight at his words.
What troubled Jade next was your vibrant, independent spirit—though you still knew nothing of the reality. Having continuously scraped together your modest earnings, you were beginning to make preparations to start living on her own. You were about to leave the shop.
This is rather troublesome, isn't it? Jade thought, drooping his eyebrows ever so slightly. After contemplating the matter for about five minutes, he decided that the quickest way to solve it was to burn the shop to the ground. If everything turned to ash, if everything was taken away from you, you would have nowhere left to go.
The shop burned. It burned with your room, your wealth, and your modest collection of memories serving as the fuel. The elderly couple left the town. Only you were left behind, stranded before the charred ruins.
"Am I allowed to take that… to mean that kind of meaning?"
How utterly sweet it was, the way you used every ounce of your strength to put up a brave front when he invited you to come to his place. He found your pride immensely endearing—the way you desperately tried to stand on your own two feet with a fragile bluff that felt as though it might crumble at the slightest touch. It was precisely because it was so endearing that he wanted to chop those legs out from under you and lock you away forever.
"I would be delighted if you took it to mean exactly that."
With that single sentence, you finally broke down. Your face crumpled, and you clung to Jade, wailing and weeping like a child. Now, you had no one left, and nothing remained. Gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders—you, who had nowhere left to go—he brought you back to his room.
It was a room he had newly prepared just for you. A room that had taken a bit of time and effort to arrange, just to make it look as though he had been living there for a very long time.
You believed this to be the room of a man named Jade, who simply worked at some decent company nearby. Like a wounded animal searching for a safe place to settle, your gaze flickered uncomfortably around the space, unsure of where to anchor itself. Caring for you in your distress, Jade faced you with absolute sincerity, and bit by bit, you grew accustomed to the room.
By the time living together as a pair had become completely second nature, your rambunctious, independent spirit began to act up once again.
It seemed you wanted to work outside.
Jade was a little troubled. He truly did not want to let you out very much. He had no desire to see you get hurt in a place beyond his knowledge, nor did he want you to be diminished even in the slightest. For that exact reason, he had pulled strings behind the scenes to ensure no one would hire you. Yet, despite his efforts, you still managed to find occasional day-labor gigs from time to time—your sheer resourcefulness and human charm were truly bottomless.
Your proper, upstanding nature—the way you refused to be spoiled by a sweet environment where you "didn't have to do anything"—was immensely endearing to him. Even so, attempting to escape from under Jade's control was simply unacceptable.
That being said, he knew all too well that stripping away your freedom in an overt, recognizable way was not a wise strategy. If he forced you down, there would undoubtedly be a backlash.
Therefore, he was planning to secure a suitable shop and prepare it as a workplace just for you. It would be best if it were close to the apartment. Moreover, the stream of customers should be sparse—just enough for the place to be completely dead. It would be ideal if, upon introducing it to you, you would say, "I had no idea a shop like this existed in a place like this!" Preparing it in the corner of a narrow alleyway, a spot you wouldn't normally wander into, seemed like the perfect choice. He would buy up an appropriate piece of land, order the construction, and place a single, trustworthy underling to act as the shopkeeper.
"You look like you're havin' fun, Jade."
"Yes, I am contemplating a few arrangements."
"Ugh, another terrarium? I keep tellin' you to stop because they smell like dirt."
At his brother's disgusted voice, Jade blinked once.
A terrarium.
Replicating a makeshift ecosystem inside a tiny glass vessel, pouring meticulous effort into it, and creating a perfect cycle. Exactly what Jade was doing right now bore a striking resemblance to managing a terrarium.
A miniature garden, crafted for the sake of just one single girl.
Ufufu, Jade let out an immensely delighted chuckle.
They say a hobby can be your saving grace, and that was precisely the case. The inhabitant of Jade’s terrarium was brimming with curiosity about the world outside her invisible walls, and if left to her own devices, she would constantly try to escape. It wasn't even that she disliked Jade; rather, it was her sheer curiosity, diligence, and independent spirit that drove her to do so.
If that was the case, his only option was to expand the vessel. For the sake of his one and only inhabitant, he would simply reconstruct the entire town.
"By the way~"
"Yes?"
"What was up with that thing you took care of the other day?"
Oh?
For a fraction of a second, Jade didn't register what he was being asked, tilting his head ever so slightly.
"Y'know, the guy at the city hall," his brother prompted.
"Ah," Jade murmured as a wave of understanding washed over him. "Just a nasty insect."
Every now and then, they would spawn out of nowhere—harmful pests that dared to ravage Jade’s miniature garden. It was truly a troublesome nuisance.
And so, he had disposed of him. That clerk was something entirely unnecessary in Jade’s garden. He had roughed him up just the right amount before throwing him out. Whether that man could survive in the outside world, or what had become of him since, Jade had no idea. It was completely beyond the perimeter of his interest.
Chime, a notification popped up on Jade’s device.
"Oh."
"What's up?"
"She says tonight’s dinner is simmered mushrooms."
"Ugh, gross."
Chuckling at his brother, who made a face of pure, unadulterated disgust, Jade slipped his device back into his coat pocket.
His sweet little mate had prepared a meal and was waiting for him back in their nest.
Ah, how incredibly lucky I am.
The monster who ruled the town purred with absolute relish, letting out a dark, deep laugh.
So, my followers told me, 'If you wrote about Mafia Floyd, you absolutely have to write about Mafia Jade too!' which is why I wrote this… but wait, isn't this just the exact same Jade I always write anyway????
Hello! I’m willow!! I post yandere x reader fics that primarily focus on dark romance. Trigger warnings: obsession, violence, nsfw scenes, non con moments, etc. (I’ll try to put warnings on my more graphic fics). Thanks for stopping by! Hope you enjoy!!! 𝜗ৎ
* All original characters, could be inspired by other fics because I’ve read so many*
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Short Stories:
“In the Quiet of my arms”
SIMON 💉- “You’re safe with me. Always. You’ll see… you’ll understand one day…”
yandere kidnapper x reader, the caring patient Yandere that kidnaps you, but has a quiet undertone of violence. (More graphic fic). COMPLETED!!! yay.
act 1:
C. 1 - Patience
C. 2 - The Cage of love
C. 3 - His Shattered Patience
act 2:
C. 4 - His Devotion
C. 5 - I need you
C.6 - Fragile Intimacy
act 3:
C.7 - The Reunion
C. 8 - Twisted Desire
extra: character description + backstory
“Haze of you”
BRADY 🥃 - “God, of course I want you. You have no idea how bad I want this—want you.”
yandere ex x drunk reader, colder Yandere that has to take you in while your friends drop you off when you drunkenly miss him. He has to battle with his inner desire to adhere to his respect for you, even if you’re so perfect. COMPLETED!!
C. 1 - The doorstep
C. 2 - The bed
C. 3- The morning after
“Where the Cypress Shadows lie”
CADE 🌽 - “Every time you walk away, I feel it in my chest… like somethin’ ain’t right. You’re mine, darlin’, don’t forget it.”
southern yandere x reader, southern yandere in small town isolates reader to stay with him ;) COMPLETED!!
act 1:
C. 1 - First glance
C. 2 - Wolf in Sheeps Clothing
C. 3 - The Rhythm of us
act 2:
C. 4 - Jealousy
C. 5 - The Orchard Confession
C. 6 - The Midnight Intrusion
act 3:
C. 7 - The cornfield chase
C. 8 - Cades ranch
“Whispers behind the curtain”
WILLIAM HAWTHORNE 🌹- “You belong to me—not by choice, nor by circumstance, but by the inevitability of my desire. And if you try… if you resist, you will find that my devotion brooks no opposition.”
regency lord yandere x reader, heavily inspired by Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. With a twist on Mr. Darcy with a yandere obsession.
act 1:
C. 1 - First Impressions
C. 2 - Shadowed Assistance
C. 3 - Unwelcome Admiration
act 2:
C. 4 - Quiet Interventions
C. 5 - First Warning
C. 6 - Unmasked
act 3:
C. 7 - Gilded Cage
C. 8 - Gaslit Courtship
C. 9 - His Breaking Point
C. 10 - Epilogue - Eternally Bound
Extra Short Characters (one shot)
Aaron 💕
Erik 💔
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LADS ~~
CALEB 🍎 -
Headcannons
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Gotham men:
(mainly the music meister -currently hyper-fixated, open to requests..)
Music Meister 🎵🎶:
Requests;
- Sick Serenade 🎵
- Blood Aria 🦇🥀
Open to writing about any Gotham men.
Dick Grayson -
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disclaimer- Chatgbt was used for grammar checking and tone correction: plot, characters, etc. belong to me. @wuthering-willows
Newton's Laws of Motion, as Demonstrated in Captivity.
yandere!jade leech x (gender neutral) reader x floyd leech
cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, non-con kissing, implied non-con, captivity, death, blood, murder, descriptions of gore and vivisection/dissection, injuries, very brief mention of suicide, the twins are absolutely awful in this one
note - thank you very dearly to @after-witch for commissioning me!!!! :D read part one to this story here.
First Law - an object at rest will remain at rest, and an object in motion will remain in motion unless acted upon by an external force.
Something shifts to your right. It’s the sound of another body, alive and breathing, once foreign to your solitary lifestyle. Now it has become your reality.
How long has it been since you’ve stirred under the same roof, trapped below in a dingy, stone cellar? How many days have you been confined to this old, stained mattress, dressed in pajamas that do not belong to you, led upstairs to the bathroom like a horse on a lead? You can’t approximate an exact timeframe, but it feels like it’s been forever.
That’s how misery tends to work. When you’re knee-deep in it, the concept of time is rendered meaningless and it stretches on into a spiraling eternity.
You’re not even sure if it’s truly morning when a persistent finger prods at your cheek. Scrunching your face, groaning slightly, you twist away from your annoying assailant. This time, rather than another poke, the chub of your cheek is gathered in his fingertips.
“Wakey, wakey! Eggs and bakey,” a high, nasally voice chirps. He tugs on your cheek harshly, forcing you to snap awake and come face to face with a shrimp. You stare at the one-eyed plushie, the soft fuzz of its face pilled in patches. Right behind, lurking like Death, is Floyd. His face gains clarity with each blink until, eventually, you’re able to discern him from the colorful blur leering at you. A delighted smile curls on his lips, and he nudges you with the shrimp. “Didja have good dreams?”
By now, you’ve learned to tell the two of them apart from their presences alone. Jade is eerily, deathly silent, creeping like a spider or a shadow, intentionally unnoticeable. But Floyd is like a breeze, ever-present and overwhelming. You can always feel him even in the dark.
“G-Good morning,” you whisper. “Um, I didn’t really dream…”
“Ya didn’t? Aww.” You search his face for an indication as to what emotion will drive him today. “Maybe tonight you’ll have somethin’ fun to dream about.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Uh… What… What exactly do you mean by…that?”
He beams at you. “We’re gonna play a game. You, me, ‘n’ Jade.”
Based on the last ‘game’ you played, one in which they took turns stabbing a knife between each of your spread fingers, you can only imagine what kind of horror they’ve cooked up this time. You glance at your bandaged fingers and frown, recalling the stinging pain from each prick and slice. At some point, it felt less like outright sadism and more like an abstract art project.
When you aren’t being treated like a trophy pet, you’re a lump of clay waiting to be sculpted by deranged hands.
Between the both of them, they never give you a moment to rest, whether physically or mentally. Some days, you find Jade is more tolerable than his brother (when he isn’t hellbent on killing you or bringing you startlingly close to that edge). And other days it’s the opposite. Sometimes Floyd’s your saving grace, an unnerving voice of reason amidst Jade’s madness. They constantly oscillate between good cop and bad cop. Worst of all, you never know what either twin is thinking and it’s led to a bottomless well of anxious paranoia.
What will they do next?
You ask yourself that a lot. What extreme will they cross, and will you be involved in the wreckage? It’s been however-long since that god-awful day in the van, and since then you still haven’t been able to answer those questions.
So you keep your head down, subject yourself to silence, and hope to blend into the corner enough so they’ll forget you even exist. It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does it’s the greatest form of relief you’ve come to know. Like being pulled from a tight space, an emergency blanket draped over your shivering form, all while kind voices reassure you of your safety.
Judging by the bright gleam in Floyd’s mismatched eyes, they’ve found another victim to toy with, which spares you from any and all murderous mischief for now. You feel bad for the unfortunate souls they drag home, but your sympathy ends at the tip of a knife. As long as it’s pointed at someone else’s throat, you can live another day. You content yourself with the logic that it’s not selfish to want to survive. It’s just a basic instinct.
Besides, today could be your last day if the twins will it. You can’t take any chances. Not when every single second is life or death. That’s why you’ve taken care to remain in their good graces, currying favor whenever possible. If Floyd wants to spoon-feed you your meals, you’ll let him. If Jade wants to info-dump about fungi facts like a nature documentary, you’ll give him your full attention. It’s been five victims since you were taken into captivity. You must be doing something right, whatever that may be, if you’ve come this far semi-unscathed.
You push yourself up onto your elbows. Having Floyd loom over you like this makes you feel like you’re suffocating, squeezed between the coils of a vicious snake. You gather the shrimp in your arms and, hugging it close, rest your chin upon its fluffy head.
“Jade’ll be down soon. He’s just gotta prepare the stuff.” Floyd turns over to lie on his back, his blank stare pinned on the ceiling. “Uuugh! But I wanna play now! Hurry up, Jade!” He kicks out like a child throwing a fit, his arms and legs spread in starfish form. It would’ve been cute if you were ignorant to the monster lurking just beneath the friendly façade. But those same hands closed around the neck of his last victim, fracturing their esophagus like it was nothing more than a brittle icicle.
“Um… I’m sure he won’t be long now,” you mumble. “If it’s a game that requires lots of preparation, Jade wouldn’t want to cut corners. He’s meticulous.”
Dangerously so.
You watched him carefully take out the eyes from another victim. When asked why, Jade simply shrugged and told you, “This is a very striking shade of blue. They’d make dazzling ornaments, wouldn’t you agree?”
You could not—not truly—but you nodded along anyway.
“Hey.” Floyd’s voice draws you out of your thoughts.
“What is it?”
“You sure like that li’l guy, huh?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I do.”
You give a nervous chuckle to soothe the tension crackling in the air. This could go so many ways. Are you supposed to have taken a fondness to the poor, weathered shrimp in your arms, or does it belong solely to Floyd? Have you unintentionally stolen it from him?! What’s the punishment for plushie thievery? Before you can spiral any further into these worrisome what-ifs, Floyd breaks the silence with a boyish giggle.
“I’m glad ya like him. Won him at a carnival, actually. Pretty cute, ain’t he? Suits ya.”
You turn the plushie over to examine its lumpy body and lolling head. It’s definitely been well-loved, although you shudder to imagine what love means to Floyd. Judging from its missing eye, it must’ve been a rough, physical sort of affection. You try not to picture yourself as the next toy he destroys.
“Do you like shrimp?” you ask because you value both of your eyes and want to stay in one piece. If you falter for even a minute… If Floyd finds himself bored… It’s a matter of when because, inevitably, you will have served your purpose as their entertainment. When that happens…
Stop. Don’t think about it.
“Mm, they’re okay, I guess. I like ’em cuz they’re small and cute.” He smirks and reaches out to poke your nose. “So just like you.”
Without meaning to, you’ve scrunched yourself into a ball and buried your face in the shrimp. Ever since that day in the van, you haven’t been able to stand his or Jade’s touch. It makes you squirm and shrivel like paper curling up and away from a raging flame. You feel gross just lying here, hidden underneath the thick, patchwork duvet. Like they’ve already cut you open and seen everything. Like every inch of you isn’t flesh and bone but, rather, maggots clinging to the rotting frame of something filthy.
“O-Oh. I remind you of a shrimp… Is that…right?”
“Mhm. S’why you’re Shrimpy.”
“Ah… G-Got it…”
With a toothy smile, he pats you on the head. You don’t fight his affection—you couldn’t even if you wanted to—but it does bring you newfound relief when steps on the stairs draw his attention.
“Gee, there ya are. Took ya long enough.”
“My apologies,” Jade says, but he doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest. Rather, there’s a shred of excitement lodged in his voice. You watch him descend the stairs slowly. In his arms, carried bridal style, is a shrouded mass. You don’t have to spend time analyzing the distinctly human-shaped figure to guess what’s wrapped up in black fabric.
In fact, once you sit up and take stock of the basement, you begin to see the preparations made for today’s game. The tray of medical tools, each one laid out in order from smallest to largest, glinting in the yellow light. They all look sharp and deadly. A biologist’s essentials for what appears to be a dissection. Your stomach churns; you bite back the bile crawling up your throat. Are you going to have to witness yet another ruthless murder? You clutch the plushie with stranglehold tightness, steeling your weak nerves.
“Ah, you’re already awake. Good.”
Jade sets the body down on the cold, cracked floor. You wonder when they’ll start struggling. When will the screams begin? Usually, it’s always before anything bad has happened and then, once faced with the threat, screams morph into desperate sobs. You’ve seen faces cycle through the five stages of grief faster than their life can ebb away.
“I assume Floyd has already briefed you on today’s activities?”
This man, you’ve since realized, is far more frightening. You’ve watched Floyd bash a human skull in; you’ve watched him crush bones underfoot like it was nothing. But this man… This horrible, remorseless man will cut a person’s consciousness away in slices, as if he’s trying to get the most out of a human life. Floyd’s violence is characterized by a number of thrilling emotions, each one felt in brutal extremes, but Jade is clinical. Detached. A machine optimized for slaughter.
Your eyes slide over to Floyd, who is now sitting at attention. “He said we’d be playing a game. That’s all.”
“I see. Then allow me to show you.”
Jade peels the covering away to reveal the nude body lying just beneath. His eyes are shut, so you can’t gauge whether he’s resting or dead.
“We’re going to play Doctor.”
“Why?” The question slips out before you can stop yourself.
But he must’ve been expecting it because his eyes crinkle with mirth. “What better way to familiarize yourself with death than to stare it right in the face?”
“Mhm! Don’t think we haven’t noticed you shuttin’ your eyes every time we bring someone down here,” Floyd says, hoisting himself to his feet and meandering over. He nudges the body in the ribs and hums. “S’no fun if you’re gonna hide all the time.”
“Indeed. And to guarantee your participation…” Jade pauses long enough to keep you in suspense but not so much that you begin to work out the angle in his scheme. He spreads the man’s arms and legs out, attaching thick, metal cuffs around each so that his vulnerability is forced. Chains are attached to each cuff, extending out into the shadows. You fight the urge to look away, knowing very well Floyd will just grip your chin and force your view. “We’ll use a point system. For every intact organ you successfully extract from this man here, you’ll receive one point. And if you refuse to play or can’t get any points, we’ll remove your organs—one for every point we earn. Those terms are acceptable, are they not?”
He smiles like he’s just asked you to pick flowers and berries with him, not dissect a person.
You have no choice. Backed into a corner, you look to Floyd for assistance. He grins slowly.
They’re both serious?!
“But… B-But that’ll…”
“Kill you? That’s kinda the point, Shrimpy. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. We’ll play nice and fair. Give ya a chance.”
“But what happens to the loser? Even if I do get points, what if…?”
“Hmm. What do you think, Floyd?” Jade’s the first to break the tense silence. “What’s a fitting punishment for the loser?”
“How about we do it like this? Loser’s gotta do whatever the winner wants.”
“No objections from me. Well, (Name)?”
Doing whatever the winner wants… Depending on the twin, it could be something dreadful or something simple. But I can’t think of an alternative that can’t be twisted into something bad. What should I do? What should I do?! You inhale a shaky breath. Think. The strategy here is to not lose. I doubt I’ll win—I’ve never dissected anything before! Definitely not a human body. I just have to get enough points to avoid last place.
“Um, that’s fine. Will it be one point for each organ?”
“You are correct.”
“We thought about makin’ some of ’em worth more—like the heart or the liver—but that’d just freak ya out more and we don’t want that. See? It’s easy. Nothin’ to it,” Floyd explains, as if his morbid support does anything for your own morals.
I just have to take out enough to put me above the loser. It’s like a biology assignment, you reason, hoping to clot runny guilt with objective logic. One that’s for a grade.
You risk a glance at the unconscious man. Is he even alive?
“H-How do we define it?”
“Hm?” Jade tilts his head at you, confusion darkening his eyes.
“Organs. What’s an organ? B-Because, technically, your skin is one big organ.”
“Ooh, clever Shrimpy.” Floyd whistles.
“Heh. I certainly wasn’t expecting that pea brain of yours to work.” Jade strides over to the tray and procures two latex gloves. He pulls them up to his elbows, flexing the fingers for good measure. “Unless you can expertly strip this man of his skin, I highly doubt you’ll be receiving any points regarding that organ. And, no, cubes of flesh do not count.”
The look on his face is oozing pride. Checkmate, his glittering eyes say. Like he’s pleased to have outwitted you. You shrink back, cowed into defeat.
All right. If I play it safe, I can target organs that are easier to remove. And if I take it slow—
“We will take turns. You’re allowed one try per turn.”
“W-What?”
“C’mon, Shrimpy. You didn’t think we’d just give ya all the time in the world, didja? That’s not how this game works.” Floyd skips over to the body and, foregoing gloves, plops down right behind where the man’s head rests. And then he begins to lightly slap each cheek. “Heeey. Wake up. We wanna get started already.”
Hold on. There’s no way—
Floyd’s sunny mood shifts and frizzes the air with a foreboding tension. “I said, wake up.” He raises his fist, readying it just above the man’s throat.
There’s movement beneath his eyes. The crack of a mouth. He groans weakly. And then his eyes open. Slowly at first until he notices Floyd looming over him, a wide, shark-tooth grin on his face.
“Heya. Welcome back to the world.”
“W-W-What the f-fuck?” he mutters, stumbling over his words. Still groggy from whatever drug was pumped into his system, no doubt.
You press yourself into a familiar corner and hug the shrimp plushie close.
No, no, no. I can’t… On a live person… No way. There’s just no way.
“Good morning,” Jade greets him, cordial like he’s a guest and not the next body to be added to their growing tally.
A second stretches on into silent minutes. And then he starts to squirm.
“W-Where am I? What’s going on?” He lifts his head and, upon viewing his naked form, begins to struggle with more force. “Hey, what the fuck is this?!”
“Shall we begin?” He lifts a scalpel from the tray.
Floyd flashes his teeth at the panicked man. “Want me to count to three? It’ll be just like gettin’ a shot at the doctor.”
“N-No. Wait. Stop!”
“Hold him still, Floyd. I would hate to make a mess out of the specimen before the fun’s even begun.”
“You got it, Jade.”
Sharp silver flickers in the light; it’s the last thing you see before you dive under the covers. You press your hands against your ears, but it does nothing to block the agonizing howls that rip right from the depths of the man’s stomach. You imagine Jade dragging the scalpel down his torso while Floyd holds him down. You think of the blood that beads to the surface, thin lines thickening into something fatal. Amidst his screaming, you can hear your heart pounding against your ribs like a ferocious animal in a too-tight cage. Suddenly, you forget how to breathe in your blanket fortress. Your fingers dig into the shrimp plushie. You want to go home. You want to go home so badly.
You remain there, scrunched up in the fetal position, while that singular thought is played on loop.
It can’t have been more than thirty minutes when the screaming finally quiets down into little whimpers and gurgled blubbering. Someone peels the blanket away and then their hand is on your shoulder, shaking you back to yourself.
“Shrimpy? You still in there? Hellooooo? Don’t drift off yet. We still gotta play.”
“I-I can’t,” you gasp, shaking your head. “T-That man—he’s alive still!”
“Yeah, and so what? There’s gotta be some challenge, otherwise it’s just boring.” When you shake your head more firmly, he sighs. “C’mon, Shrimpy… Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t make me play. It’s not a game—not to me—not to that man!”
A large hand grips a fistful of your hair. Floyd yanks your head up to look at him, and his dark expression is so terrifying it shocks a yelp right out of you.
“P-Please, Floyd…”
His empty eyes soften, and he bends down to your height. Ever so slightly, he loosens his grip. You think he might take pity on you, having finally understood the reason behind the shadows splayed under your eyes, a scar from permanent fear. But then he releases you and throws the blanket off altogether.
“Up we go!” He grabs hold of your ankles and lifts your legs.
“Wait. W-Wait!”
Despite your protests, Floyd drags you across the floor to the middle of the room, whistling cheerfully. You’re plopped down right across from Jade, and you look at him only because you can’t bear to look at the man. In your peripheral, his chest has been cut open, the flaps of skin pulled apart like petals in a blossoming lotus. He’s still alive, gasping and groaning every few seconds. You wish he wasn’t. Maybe then it would be easier to…
Who are you kidding? There’s no way you could’ve done it even if he was dead.
Floyd sits right behind you, a sturdy wall between you and your precious mattress.
“Let’s be a team!” He wraps his arms around you. Now there’s really nowhere for you to run. Not that you’d get very far with the chain still secured to your ankle. “That’s okay, right, Jade?”
“Very well. I’ll allow it.”
“Yay! Hear that, Shrimpy? You ‘n’ me are workin’ together.”
I don’t want your help, is what you’d say if you weren’t at his mercy.
“Y-Yeah… Go team…”
The twins play rock-paper-scissors to decide who will go first. Jade wins. You watch him carefully while he peruses the tools.
“Ah, right. How careless of me,” he mutters, selecting the bone cutting forceps. “We can’t have his pesky skeleton getting in the way. So many layers to the human body… Let me remedy that.”
You lift your hands to cover your eyes, but Floyd seizes your wrists. “Nuh-uh,” he whispers. “If you wanna beat Jade, ya gotta play properly.”
You crane your neck to look at him, but his eyes are locked ahead. Is he…helping me?
It’s hard to believe. But…
It’ll be over before I know it. I just need to endure until then.
Even though Floyd’s chosen to ally with you, his companionship isn’t any more comforting than Jade with his medical tools.
“Well then, shall we begin?”
Blearily, the man blinks up at him. He looks sick—like he could vomit and pass out at any minute—and he’s struggling to keep his eyes focused on one person amongst the three of you. You feel bad for him, but then you’re also relieved it’s not you in that predicament. Yet. He opens his mouth to reply, but nothing coherent comes out. Just a pathetic, haggard rasp.
Like he’s done many times before, Jade clamps the forceps around a rib bone and squeezes until it breaks. The snap that resonates through the basement is so loud it has you flinching back against Floyd’s chest. As if that’s jolted the man back from near-death, he puffs his ruined chest out and screams until his vocal chords snap. You listen to the clattering of his chains until, eventually, they fall still. Until eventually the man doesn’t make another sound.
“Oh? Is he dead already?”
“Aww. That’s lame.”
“Ah, no, he’s not. He merely fainted from the shock and the pain.” Jade gazes pointedly at you like a cat who’s about to knock something fragile off a shelf. He runs his finger over the bleeding flesh flap. The man’s body winces instinctively. “Isn’t that a delightful reaction?”
Floyd giggles. “Wonder how long he’s gonna be squirmin’ for.” He grips your chin and yanks your head towards the carnage. “Doesn’t he look like a science project? Cool, right?”
Because you’re not aiming to die today, you nod your agreement. And it is cool, in an unusual way. He looks like a broken doll lying there with his chest split open, his ribs jagged from where they were snapped off. His heart sluggishly pumps in time with an invisible death march. You’re mesmerized with his anatomy. Humans aren’t supposed to be treated like frogs or fetal pigs. It’s wrong! And yet…
You can’t look away.
You don’t want to look away.
Jade takes his turn, gracefully snipping away the thick flesh obscuring the first organ. The stomach. Blood stains the latex of his gloves, darkening the metal blades.
“Well, I believe that does it for my turn.” He smiles at you, as if to say be grateful I did the hard work.
Floyd allows you to crawl out of his arms so you can grab a pair of gloves for yourself. While you slide them on your shaking hands, you consider your first move.
This man will die soon. Should I try to end his life while he’s still knocked out? At least that will be more merciful than whatever torture these two subject him to…
Your eyes fall upon his heart. Unconsciously, you reach for the scalpel. Swallowing your fear, you curl your fingers around the dainty handle. The squirming of his heart is almost hypnotic. It’s so slow. Is it possible for a heartbeat to get like that? Is he even alive anymore? He has to be because it’s still moving.
You kneel over him and watch the pulp of his insides twist and flex faintly. It’s almost like he’s not even a living, breathing human and rather the host for some extraterrestrial creature. Maybe a parasitic worm made a home out of his core, and that’s why everything is so…squishy.
Your trembling hand inches closer. You’ll make a cut around the heart, trim away the excess skin keeping it rooted in place, and then he’ll die.
Or that’s the plan. But you can’t seem to move.
This could be me. I could be lying there, half-dead, cut open for these lunatics… It could be me.
You grab at your chest and inhale mouthfuls of stale, slaughterhouse-scented air. I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t, you think, looking on with terror reflected in your glossy eyes. I just can’t do it.
“I’m sorry. But I…” The scalpel clatters to the floor. “I c-can’t. I’m so sorry.”
Jade opens his mouth to speak, but Floyd beats him to it.
“Then that means I get two turns, yeah?” He smiles innocently at his brother. Without waiting for a response, he reaches for the man’s heart. His fingers close around the beating mass of muscle and then he pulls. Hard. It jerks the man back to himself, and he comes alive like Frankenstein’s monster, a corpse reanimated. He spasms and twitches violently, as if something’s trying to break free from his innards, his gasps so ghoulish he sounds possessed.
You watch in real time as his heart is ripped from his chest. And when the sinew snaps and the organ comes free, blood explodes from his chest. It spatters Floyd’s arm and speckles his cheek in iron-tinged kisses. The man’s eyes roll back into his head, and that’s it. His body gives a few twitches, a most peculiar postmortem phenomenon, but there’s no more life left in him.
He’s dead.
Slowly, your eyes slide from him to Floyd. He’s grinning as he admires the plump heart in his palm, a strange gleam in his lightless eyes.
Jade chuckles behind his fist. “You didn’t even need the second turn.”
Floyd hums, quite pleased with himself. “Guess that’s one point for Team Shrimpy.” Without warning, he tosses the heart at you. “Catch!”
You yelp and scramble away. The heart lands on the floor with a meaty squelch; blood pools beneath it.
To tear out a heart with your bare hands… Only a monster could do that.
“A shame. I was hoping to see how long he would last.” Pouting, Jade retrieves the scalpel and completes his turn effortlessly. “You’re up, (Name). Floyd, put the heart on ice, if you would.”
“Yeah, yeah. Already on it.” Snatching it from the floor, he walks over to the freezer pushed up against the opposite wall and places the organ inside. You imagine it sitting there, a real human heart nestled amongst the ice cubes.
The scalpel is dropped into your palms.
“You can have my turn,” Floyd says upon his return.
I don’t want your turn. I don’t want any of this!
“O-Okay…” You face the body again. The lungs are too big. The intestines, both large and small, are too snake-like. Slippery, you think. It’s not worth it if they’re all worth one lousy point. You could try one of his eyes, but then you’re not too fond of looking at them. It’s too personal. Too close. Maybe the tongue? But then you’d have to stick your hand down his throat, open his mouth wide enough, cut it out perfectly.
You shake your head. I have to participate at least once. I can’t chicken out again. I need to be strong.
You can feel their eyes burning holes through you as you lean over the specimen, a scalpel in one hand and scissors in the other. Somehow you’ve managed to quell your anxious shakes enough to make the first slice along the bottom of where the stomach rests. If you can, you’ll piggyback off of Jade’s work. Then the guilt won’t snap at you so ferociously.
In just two turns, you’ve made significant progress. The white of your gloves is stained a dark, delicious red.
“Ooh, you actually did it. Good job, Shrimpy.”
“A commendable effort indeed.”
You drag yourself back to Floyd’s side. A thick fog settles in your head. You see double for a second, but it’s quickly blinked away. Don’t panic. You did it. It’ll be over soon.
It’s not.
For the rest of the day, you take turns cutting and slicing, dragging sharp tools through flesh, until most of his major organs have been retrieved and set on ice. Some of them are in poor shape, like the intestines Floyd snipped in half just to sate his gross curiosity with the contents of the man’s most recent (and last) meal. You and Jade fought over the stomach until it was freed on Jade’s turn, thus relinquishing the point to him. By the end of it, the man’s body looks so hollow and desecrated it’s almost an abandoned house.
Somehow, just barely, you and Floyd pull through with a win.
When asked what you’d like from Jade, as per the deal arranged at the start of the game, you look him in the eyes and say, “Don’t serve me any meat dishes for the next week.”
He merely nods his acquiescence, but you can sense the smart remark hiding just beneath his tongue. Floyd doesn’t ask anything of Jade. Rather, he says, “You owe me since I helped us win, so lemme sleep with ya tonight. I’ll even take off your chains.”
If all routes ultimately lead to Floyd in the very end, then you’ve never had a chance to begin with.
But it’s not as if you can refuse, so you make space for him on the mattress after dinner.
He was right. You do dream.
About death and scalpels and dissections. About hearts and meat and skeletons. About two butcher-doctors and their shrimp specimen.
Second Law - force equals mass times acceleration.
In the following days, you’ve found yourself unchained and (mostly) free to roam the basement under intense supervision. It’s pseudo-freedom, however useless it may be.
The only catch is that Floyd must be there, so in a way he’s like a stronger, sturdier, more threatening chain. You sleep wrapped up in his arms, his own personal plushie, while you cling to the shrimp. Both twins are still adamant that you’re to be bathed and dressed by one of them, and it’s clear they don’t trust you to leave you to your own devices. Thus, you’ve sacrificed your dignity and privacy in the name of survival.
But it hasn’t been in vain.
Floyd dragged the old box TV downstairs so the two of you could watch an assortment of films on VHS before bed. Jade has even taken to bringing books of various genres for you to peruse, but he seems hellbent on converting you to the entertainment provided by nature guides and documentaries. You sort of understand the appeal, but it’s lost the minute he begins to joke about burying bodies beneath endangered plants. And you’re almost certain he has. The reality is more heinous than the jest, made entirely in truth.
So you’re right to be suspicious when you wake up to a milkshake offering. The branded cup is undoubtedly from your workplace, which doesn’t strike you as odd at first. But then you see the woman tied to the post across from you, dressed in nothing but her underwear, her mouth gagged and wrists bent behind her back. Her hair falls in limp curtains around her face. You assume she’s dead until you spy the bruise purpling on her ankle, the bone so gnarled it’s like a cluster of roots all tangled into one.
Quickly, you scan the room. Floyd’s not here, but Jade is. And he’s smiling, a shy attempt at what you think might be flirting.
“It’s your favorite flavor. You need to ingest something; you haven’t for quite some time,” he adds, and you are weak to that. To the comfort provided by your favorites. It’s been so long since you’ve tasted anything sweet, so you take it from him with only ninety-nine percent suspicion.
“Thank you?” You hesitate around the straw, but once the flavor reaches your taste buds you light up. You’re starving, and it’s entirely your fault because you’ve refused to eat anything with meat in it. You can’t bear it after that day. “Huh. So it really is…”
“Would I lie to you?”
“All the time.” But then you realize you spoke your true thoughts aloud, and you hurry to silence yourself with another sip.
Amusement lifts his features. “There’s no need to worry. I intend to be very transparent with you. I am but glass.”
“Uh-huh… Then… Where’s Floyd?”
“We flipped a coin to see who would be in charge of making the deliveries. He was the lucky winner. That just leaves you and me until he returns. So what better way to become better acquainted than with a little trust exercise?” He gestures to the woman and beams.
“If you’re going to kill me, why go through the effort of, uh, ‘bonding’ with me? I doubt it really matters anyway,” you admit.
Be careful. As volatile and unpredictable as Floyd is, he’s still leagues better than Jade.
If anyone’s going to kill you, it’s Jade. Ever since you’ve found yourself in captivity, he’s been the most detached from you. He doesn’t go out of his way to ask you about your life before the kidnapping, nor does he seem to bother himself with details about your preferences. It’s Floyd who likes to interrogate you about every sliver of your life.
“I would never. Not anytime soon, at least, so you can rest easy.” He gestures to the breakfast buffet sitting plated in front of you. “Do eat your fill.”
“Right…” Your gaze strays to the woman. Suddenly, your voracious appetite is gone. “Uh, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Is that so? A pity. And I made sure to cook everything to your liking.” Jade pretends to ponder something. “How about this? I’ll eat with you. We’ll make a game of it—Tea Party—and you can even bring your little shrimp friend.” He gestures to the plushie you’ve propped up on the pillows. “After that, once you’re energized for the day’s events, we’ll focus on her. She won’t be waking up for a while, I can assure you of that.”
With narrowed eyes, you scrutinize him carefully. What’s he doing, playing nice and innocent? There must be some sort of angle here. He can’t honestly just want you to eat, right? Unless…
You hurry to uncap the drink and swirl it around with the straw, searching the creamy liquid for anything amiss.
“It’s not poisoned, nor is any of the food. Everything is safe to consume. I promise.”
At least, if it is drugged and I pass out, I won’t have to do whatever it is he has planned.
“Then you can have the first bite,” you say, feeling behind you for the shrimp.
“That’s only fair.” Though his smile is placid enough, it doesn’t reach his eyes. He kneels in front of you and takes a spoonful of the first dish.
Still hugging the shrimp, you wait until he’s sampled everything. A few wordless minutes span between both of you. Jade licks his fork clean and, for show, pats his lips dry with a frilly cloth.
“Well? Surely watching me feast has worked up your appetite as well?”
If Floyd was here, would he offer you the same level of patience Jade has? Maybe, for just a moment, it’s better it’s Jade. Tentatively, you take hold of your silverware.
“I could kill myself with this knife. Aren’t you worried?”
“Not at all.”
“Why not?” You loathe that he’s so confident, as if he’s read you inside and out and knows all of your inner struggles.
“Because you wouldn’t want to do yourself in before I unveil today’s main course.” He smiles around a ravenous bite of mushroom risotto. “To be honest, I was a bit…disappointed with the results of our last game. I hadn’t been expecting Floyd to take your side, and while his capriciousness is certainly entertaining it left much to be desired. Your performance—and your win, quite frankly—hinged completely on Floyd’s competence. He could have thrown the game if he wasn’t feeling it, and yet his fondness for you revealed otherwise.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about… Floyd helped me because he wanted to, r-right?”
“Would you have taken out a single organ if he didn’t?”
“O-Of course! If I didn’t, the penalty—”
“I find that hard to believe.”
You grit your teeth. He’s provoking me on purpose. But why, and what for?
“What your brother chooses to do isn’t my problem. It’s not my fault he decided that on a whim.”
From his belt, he withdraws a sizable kitchen knife. It’s placed in the center, right next to a half-empty bowl of salad. “Floyd isn’t here to protect you, so I’d like to gauge how you’d really fare. And this time you aren’t allowed any cheats.” He sets down his empty bowl and strides over to the woman. “It’s time to wake up, Miss.” A few light taps to her shoulder and she groans. “I think you’ll like this game. Shall we call it Revenge?”
How original, you think bitterly, but the breath sticks in your throat when he lifts her head and her long, shaggy hair parts to reveal the familiar face hiding beneath.
“M-My boss…”
“Ah, so you do recognize her. Very good. I was worried you’d just play dumb and I’d have to pull the truth from your throat.” Jade pats her on the head and she shrinks beneath his palm. “Do you know why she’s here?”
“I…don’t. No.”
“Now that won’t do. I’m sure you have some inkling, yes? We’re both aware she isn’t a saint.”
“So you stalked me.”
“It shouldn’t come as a surprise. I do plenty of extensive research into each of my targets. If not for you, I wouldn’t have looked twice at her.”
Because of me, huh?
That’s a guilt you refuse to shoulder.
“In any case, consider this your redemption from the subpar performance you put on during Doctor.”
“What? But I… I followed the rules. The organs were intact!”
Jade sighs. “If we disregard your partnership with Floyd, individually you retrieved a grand total of one intact organ. Floyd and I both had much more than that. You would’ve lost. But, of course, if you’d prefer to consider this your punishment, I have no issues treating it as such.”
“No!” You lunge for him, arm outstretched. He hides his smirk behind his fist. “Okay! O-Okay… I’ll take the second chance. It’ll be my redemption. So… So what do I have to do?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Jade points to her just as she’s growing more alert. “I want you to kill her.”
You stare blankly ahead. He wants you to…kill a person. Your boss. Kill your boss. He wants you to kill her.
“Jade—”
“And don’t say you can’t do it.” His voice gains a dark edge. “Really, don’t. You can. Every creature is capable of doling out death if they quiet their brains and instincts enough. And if it’s your life over someone else’s, isn’t the choice clear?”
You peer at your hands. Are you really capable of it? Could you actually kill someone?
Every inch of your body is telling you it’s wrong—that you are a gentle creature and you could never cause someone physical harm. You couldn’t even do it to yourself! Jade’s right. You couldn’t kill yourself even if you wanted to because, in spite of everything, no matter how shitty your situation is, you want to live.
You pick up the knife. It’s lighter than you were expecting.
I could go for Jade. What if I got him in his leg and made a run for it? Floyd isn’t home. It’s possible. Dying lost in the forest is better than here.
But even that’s too real. You can’t stab someone. Not even your kidnapper. Not in your deepest, darkest fantasies. It’s too scary.
A shiver crawls through your body when Jade strolls over to you. He helps you to your feet and you let him because you’re holding a weapon and what if it slips and accidentally ends up lodged between his eyelids?
“I’ll show you the proper way to end a life, if you wish to be quick about it.” When you don’t reply, he frowns. “Think of it like this: the harder you stab someone, the more force you apply. So if you drive it in deep and hard enough, it’ll surely cause more than enough damage. Human flesh is thick, as you’ve seen, but with a sharp blade it’s quite easy to destroy. And if your opponent is incapacitated or weaker than you… Well, really, it’s just like kicking a snowman down in the winter.”
Jade’s hands steady your arms, and he helps you grasp the knife with more intention.
“The goal here is to kill, not to wound. You’ll want to aim for vital points.” As he instructs, he points along the woman’s body. “Since she’s tied up and has nowhere to run and no chance of fighting back, thrust out like so.” He moves your arms for demonstration. A swift, brutal stab. “Let’s try together.”
You’re urged closer towards her. No matter how hard you thrash and press back against him, he continues to push you onwards. She’s awake now, staring with wide, bloodshot eyes. As soon as recognition dawns, she begins to scream and beg through her gag. It’s all muffled nonsense, but it still has you hesitating.
“Jade… Please don’t…”
“Think of it like ripping a bandage off. I understand the first time is never easy. It wasn’t for Floyd. He’s incredibly sensitive, you see.”
Yeah, sure. The guy who ripped out a heart barehanded and laughed about it is sensitive.
You try (and fail) to tear your wrists from his iron-tight hold. He guides you to the floor, and now you’re kneeling in front of your boss. Her eyes shimmer, pleading an unspoken demand: Don’t do this. Jade coaxes you along with a gentle tug. The tip of the knife presses against her soft skin. It doesn’t draw blood, but it will soon.
You can taste your heart in your mouth. A bead of sweat waltzes down your spine.
“Three…”
“Wait, Jade! Just—” you gasp— “Just wait a minute!”
“Mm! Mmhmm!” She’s sobbing now. Every rapid shake of her head sends her hair flying out. It looks like tendrils of seaweed.
“Two. Aaand…one!”
“Stop! Don’t—”
“Mmph!”
In one swift motion he shoves you against her and—shick!—the blade sinks right into her abdomen. For good measure, he twists it to elicit a raw, wild shriek. You scream right alongside your boss. Soon, her blood will seep out onto your hands and then he’ll make you hurt her again and then—
Jade pulls your hands back and the knife comes free, clean and bloodless. Breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through your system, you stare at it.
It’s…not real.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jade says, plucking the prop knife from your hands. He pushes it down with his finger and the blade springs right back up. “Now try with a real knife.”
You follow his line of sight to the buffet, each utensil arranged for a feast. It’s surreal, a scene frozen in time, like flattened villages in the wake of nuclear tragedy. Jade allows you to shake yourself free of his grasp. You rise on unsteady feet and cross the short distance to the middle of the basement. It was here where that man died. You pick the knife up and this time it’s real, sharp enough to prick your finger or take out an eye if you swing it blindly.
What will he do to me if I refuse? I have no idea what goes through this guy’s head. He’s crazy!
“You remember (Name), don’t you? They worked for you, yes?” Jade asks, addressing your boss in a tone that’s so sickly sweet it could probably rot out all the teeth in your mouth. At that, your boss gives a frantic nod. “Then I’m sure you’ll also recall the many instances in which you treated them as though they were less than human. Like—how did you put it again? Ah, of course. Like a parasite. And all because they asked for a simple raise. You do realize you’ve lost your best employee, yes?”
Scum that should just die.
She told you that once, when she pulled you aside privately after you asked for more hours. Shouldn’t you be happy with what you have? If you get too greedy, it’ll be bad for everyone else. So just accept the hours and the pay you’re given. If you can’t do that, then you’re nothing but scum that should just die.
To the eyes of customers, working in an ice cream parlor must seem magical. To you and the rest of your coworkers, it was hell. A gruesome hell founded on a despicable hierarchy.
“Aren’t you happy Floyd and I saved you from that woman’s horrid business?” Jade presses, his question pointed and intentional.
And maybe you are. Maybe you’re relieved you don’t have to hype yourself up every day before your shifts. Maybe you’re glad you don’t have to endure anymore verbal abuse from your boss and those devils she calls her underlings.
I don’t understand… I did what I was supposed to do. I was a good worker. I never complained or threw a fit. So why me? Why would you target me?
“It’s unfortunate, really,” Jade continues, his steps echoing behind you. “Floyd and I quite liked your establishment, if only because of (Name)’s service.”
Some days I struggled to pay rent and buy groceries because of the wages you were paying me. Some days I really thought I should just quit, but where else would I make money? I’m weak and I can’t stand up for myself. You told me I’d never survive anywhere else. I was stuck under your thumb for so many years. And all while I was struggling, you looked at me like I was nothing!
“Why couldn’t you treat (Name) like a human? After all, you’re only human yourself.” Jade laughs at the morbid irony. “An employee and a boss, both missing from the same workplace. They’ll think we’re targeting your location for some inane reason and we’re not. Oh, but I do wonder what they’ll say about you once you’re gone. ‘Such a lovely boss, always so generous.’ ‘She built such a welcoming space for us to work in.’ ‘It’s a shame she’s gone. No one will ever be as kind as she was.’ Or maybe the truth will come out? What do you think?”
She stares between the both of you, her head shaking to and fro. You’re almost thankful you can’t hear her around the gag.
“Well, that’s enough from me. We have work to do, (Name).”
She looks you in the eyes and the world falls away.
Stop looking at me like that. Like I’m some disgusting parasite.
Your grip on the handle tightens, palms slick with sweat.
In the quiet eye of a roiling storm, you feel like an animal. Impulsive, every action hinging on your survival instincts. You think of Floyd’s muscles flexing and straining as he yanked at the man’s heart. You think of Jade and his terrifying precision.
You think and feel in shades of red.
And something in you—a meek, lingering patience that has been worn down and pulled impossibly taut—finally snaps.
I’m not a parasite! I’m a good, gentle human! So why are you looking at me with those eyes?!
— — —
Before you know it you’re in Jade’s arms, a heaving, screaming animal who foams at the mouth. He’s pulled you off of your boss—the strange, misshapen lump of her with its many slashes and blooming wounds. She’s unrecognizable, and there’s so much blood it’s almost like a second heartbeat keeping her alive. But you know she’s dead. The blood caked on your person, deep and dark and foreboding, tells you you’ve hit something major. You’re not even sure what you’re looking at, really.
That was a person once. Now she’s just…roadkill.
“Well done. I knew you had it in you,” Jade commends, patting your blood-flecked cheek, but the words travel through a tunnel.
You notice the red eye peering back at you. The tripod camera that’s been filming this entire mess. You don’t even think you’re real, not until he’s prying the knife—stained in gore, thin strips of skin caught on the blade—from your clenched fist, opening your fingers one by one. You’re brought down to the mattress next, lying on your back like an overturned turtle. His mouth is moving, but you can’t catch any of the words. He looms over you, and for a while he just watches you, shining with sweat and drying blood, caged between his arms. You can’t hear anything, but you can feel your heart pulsing in your chest. Your brain produces an eerie quiet devoid of thoughts or inner monologues.
Jade looks into your eyes. What is he saying?
Sound finally comes crashing in when he fits his mouth on yours.
You drown in life—in soft gasps and rustling sheets. It hurts, but that’s how you know you’re alive.
Like he did the first night, Jade sits you in a warm bath, and you soak in it. The grime and the horror and the stench of death wash right off, circling down the drain in muddy swirls. Even though he scrubs you well, you can’t shake it.
The filth.
For the rest of the afternoon, late into the night, you lay on fresh sheets, holding the shrimp plushie close to your face. There’s a beehive in your ears. Low, incessant static.
Are you even human?
“…”
“……”
Floyd flops down and snuggles up to you from behind. Since when did he get back? “Aww. Was Jade mean to ya today?” His arms wrap around you, and immediately the static stops. He smells like the outside. “Don’t take it to heart. This is just how he plays. It’s all fun ‘n’ games.” His nose is in your hair next, taking in your scent. “I gotta say, though, Shrimpy. Ya musta been real pissed to have stabbed her over fifty times. That kinda rage’s crazy, y’know.”
Is that what that was? Rage?
Because to you it felt more like hate.
Hate and desperation.
Third Law - for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
In honor of your kill, the twins replace the dingy, old mattress with a bed frame and a new mattress. The chains disappear, too. You’re awarded significantly more freedom than you had before with the chains being banished indefinitely. When you asked why, Jade said it was bad practice to keep a pet chained to one place and never permit it to stretch. He also mentioned, with a sinister smile, they could come back if you missed them so much, a statement you were quick to veto.
Now you spend most of your days burrowed under the blankets, each passing hour more sleepless than the last. You don’t want to believe it. You, a murderer. There’s just no way. You’re not a violent person. You’ve never wanted to kill your boss. Not truly!
And yet you did. You killed her.
You stabbed her so many times she was unrecognizable! You didn’t just kill her; you maimed her.
It’s not my fault, you tell yourself every day, making a scapegoat out of the shadows. Jade provoked me. It wasn’t me. I would never…
But you did. That is an irrefutable fact, one that’s been carved into your memory forever.
You killed her.
It circulates on your mind every waking second. Not even the cheesy rom-coms you and Floyd watch can blot it out.
And Jade recorded it, so now you’ll never escape it.
Maybe it’s better to just rot away here. I’m clothed and fed—bathed, even. I guess it’s not terrible…
But it is. No matter how ‘kindly’ you’re treated one day, the next days that follow are always infinitely worse. You can’t stay here.
If you stay here any longer, you might actually go crazy. Because here in this cold cube of stone—your prison—you’re reminded of the countless deaths, innocent lives taken and snuffed, all for selfish, sick thrills. And they trapped you in this wicked, cyclical web. You’re tired of it. Tired of spending every day in fear. Tired of packaging organs like they’re merely birthday presents and nothing more. Tired of watching more people die. Tired of playing executioner. Tired of being subjected to the whims of each twin, wandering hands and hungry mouths pasted to your skin. Tired of being swallowed in the filth.
No matter what that doubtful voice says, you can’t survive another second here.
You’ve always known escaping would be a challenge, even more so with both twins around. But ever since the chains were taken away, you’ve started trailing the perimeter of the basement, inching closer and closer to the staircase whenever it’s possible. There’s a door at the top of the staircase, but yesterday you observed there’s no lock. Unless it locks from the other side? You couldn’t tell, but if they’re both confident in their ability to keep you down here… Why use a lock when they could simply brute-force or threaten you into submission?
And yesterday, after your bath, they allowed you to watch TV upstairs with them while they prepared dinner. It was there where you learned an awful truth: You’ve been missing for seven months. And the portrait that flashed on the screen—that person who is most certainly you, but a you from another time—looked so healthy, a bright smile on their face. Somewhere, someone’s looking for you. A family member or a friend—someone! And you’ve been trapped in here for seven excruciating months.
Every door in the house is open today. The basement door. The door to each room. The front door.
You creep into the main room, peering over your shoulder, body tense and ready. They must be lurking somewhere. You turn to explore deeper, wondering if they’re in one of the rooms lining the hall.
Wait. Why are you looking for them? It’s a good thing they’re not here!
You inch closer towards the front door, wide open and so very inviting. Freedom winks back at you. A crisp, autumn breeze caresses your cheek. Outside, a kaleidoscope of colors beckons you into its fold. You forgot about the trees and the fresh air and the leaves—the crunchy, colorful leaves! Tears well in your eyes. It’s been too long.
You twist to look behind you. Maybe you should say farewell before—no. Absolutely not. You shake yourself out of that weird daze. Why would you, the kidnapped, walk right into your kidnappers’ arms when you’re trying to leave?
But I don’t know how to get home. I don’t know where I am. What if my boss was right? What if I can’t find work somewhere else? What if they don’t believe me? What if they never put the twins behind bars and then I’ll really be their next victim? What if—
You spy the basement door. The unthinkable happened down there. Nearly two-hundred and something days of torture, murder, death, and terror. You won’t do it again. You can’t!
Inhaling a deep breath, you take one step over the threshold. And then—
Then you run.
You run like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Like you’ll fucking die if you stop now.
Your bare feet kick up leaves and dirt as you sprint through the trees, bounding over knobbly roots and protruding rocks. It stings, but it doesn’t matter. You’re getting out of here.
You run like a pig from the slaughterhouse. And—oh, the freedom! The wind presses back against you, but you push on. You don’t care if your tears blur your vision. You scrub them away and run.
And you think you hear a stream. Somewhere, there’s running water. A route that can be followed back to civilization. You’re going home. You’re going home!
A wild smile cuts into your sunken cheeks. You’ve never known happiness as visceral and raw as this.
You leap over another root and hurry along. You’re not sure how far you’ve gone—you don’t want to stop and look back, never. You’re never going back there.
Another step forward, through the curled, crispy leaves, and metal glints in the waning sunlight. You see it a second too late.
The trap springs and the sharp-toothed clamp closes around your ankle so fast it steals the breath from your lungs.
CRACK!
Knocked off balance, you fall and land with a hard, painful thwump. The scream that tears through your throat is so shrill it shocks a murder of crows from the trees. They burst out of the branches with wild, startled caws.
No… No, please! I was going to be free!
And then you see it. A flash of teal. Bright, menacing teeth. Two pairs of big, predatory eyes.
Blood trickles down your leg, pooling between your toes, leaking onto the grass and leaves below. You give a great, heaving breath and push yourself up onto your knees. Pain rockets up to your thigh. You bite back a strangled cry.
“Told ya Shrimpy would run,” the trees say, towering over you like a council ready to send you to your death after a guilty verdict. It’s Floyd, you realize, peeking out from between two of them.
“My, my,” the trees continue, laughing to themselves. “Did you see how fast they fled?”
“Pretty funny, right? And when they were lookin’ around to see if we were nearby! Don’t the horror movies teach ya it’s bad to hesitate?”
You can’t get up. The pain is too severe, intensifying with every movement. So you drag yourself through the dirt, grunting with the effort.
“This sucks. I wanted to chase Shrimpy.”
“As did I…” You hear a sniffle and imagine he’s wiping his crocodile tears away. “Once their leg heals, perhaps we’ll put them to the test. Give them time to hide properly before we hunt them like a rabbit. I imagine it’ll be quite the exhilarating experience.”
“Ooh, good idea! Ya hear that, Shrimpy? We’re gonna train ya so you’ll be a better prey next time. Welp, time to go home.
“Not yet, Floyd. Let’s see them struggle a little longer. It would be cruel to trample on their hope right away.”
The two of them step into view, but you refuse to give up. You rake your nails through the dirt, pulling yourself past them. A trail of blood is left in your wake. They allow you to drag yourself past the next few trees before a foot comes down upon your back, effectively pinning you in place. And then your good leg is being lifted and someone’s tugging you along.
“I wouldn’t struggle,” Jade advises, peering down at you. “If you value your ankle, that is.”
“Please,” you gasp, the sound wet and thick with grief. “I don’t wanna go back. Please don’t make me.”
“And where else will you go? Certainly not back to your old life.”
“Nuh-uh. Shrimpy’s one of us now. You think those cops are gonna show ya any mercy after learnin’ what you did to your boss?”
“You committed a crime and as such you should be punished accordingly, according to society and its laws. But there are no such things here. Morals are meaningless, so you can consider yourself lucky.”
“Out here, it’s kill or be killed.” Floyd hums and yanks you along when you try to dig your fingers into the dirt. “But don’t worry. We won’t hate ya for bein’ a murderer.”
“Besides, even if escape was possible,” Jade adds, nudging your cheek with the tip of his mud-crusted boot, “did you really think it would be that easy? What a dull-witted creature you are.”
“Hey, say somethin’.” Floyd huffs. “Jaaade! Shrimpy’s gone all quiet. Did they pass out?”
No. You’ve just given up.
— — —
Snap.
Jade pops the bear trap open to reveal the ruined, broken ankle beneath. Your skin has been shredded as if it’s been put through a cheese grater. The fractured bone pokes through your flesh, the porcelain white stark against the meat of your ankle. It looks like something you’d find in a butcher’s shop.
“You poor thing…” But there’s not an iota of sympathy in his voice. “At least it was a clean break. With proper care, this will heal smoothly.”
Floyd is, however, considerably softer as he peels you from your clothes. “What’re we gonna do with you?” he’s saying, clicking his tongue. “Jade’s not very nice when he’s angry.”
When is he ever nice?
“You make it sound like I’m a villain!” he says from the next room over, sounding scandalized. “I wouldn’t do anything without proper reason.”
Yeah, right.
“Are you mad?” you whisper when Floyd helps you into the warm, soapy bath.
His lips pull apart in a strange smile. “Course I am,” he replies. “I’m pissed.”
Callused hands run up and down your arms. You sit there and let him scrub the filth from your body. For a minute, while he massages shampoo into your scalp, you ignore the searing pain. Jade returns to disinfect and bandage it some time later, once you’re dried off from the bath. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, you watch his hands work.
“Can’t you kill me?”
“Is that what you’d like? Floyd would be very sad, I’d imagine.”
“So would you!” said man protests, smacking Jade upside the head.
He feigns hurt. “Hmm. Would I?”
“Then why keep me around?”
“Why wouldn’t we? If you bring a dog home with the intention of caring for it, it’s your responsibility to keep it housebound. And if that same dog were to escape and attack an innocent person… Well, naturally, that dog would have to be euthanized. Luckily for you, your boss was never an innocent person and we would never kill our pet, no matter how much it misbehaves.” He pats your now bandaged ankle. “After all, a dog can’t learn from its mistakes if it’s dead.”
“Kinda harsh if you put it like that, huh, Jade?”
“That’s merely the truth of the matter, Floyd.”
You stare at him.
So that’s it. You’re going to be stuck here until you die. Death would be a blessing compared to this. It’s so fucked you snort. You suppress a giggle, shoulders shaking from the force of your amusement. Of course he’s not going to give you the easy way out.
Living in life is far more complicated than dying in death.
You smack your palm against your forehead and laugh, loud and full-bodied.
There’s nothing for you out there. Not anymore.
You throw your head back and you laugh until you’re crying. Everything hurts, and that’s because you’re alive.
Jade and Floyd watch you closely. They exchange a silent look. Despite their uncanny twin telepathy, you can read this emotion clearly.
summary : while having fun at the festival with your friends, you're oblivious to your own guilt and grudge. Luckily, he's here to show you the truth.
warnings : reader is Yuu and she's implied to be a girl ; swearing
a / n : HAD LOTS OF FUN WITH THIS ONE Y'ALL WO!!! Yuu betraying the NRC my beloved. Also I was definitely NOT writing this AND watching the event at the same time and that's definitely NOT why is it so short haha...
A TOAST TO @pomefioredove FOR INSPIRING ME!! Hope you like it <3 💙
P.S : maybe some grammatical mistakes or weird wording, sorry, English ain't my first language :')
The horrors, the stress, the neglect about every single thing involving your mentality and your body... all of these curses that came upon you when you first set foot in the halls of Night Raven Collage could never be cured, could they? That's what you thought before you met him. He said he can save you...
Can he? Please, you have to let him save you...
The beautiful scenery in the main hall of Nobel Bell Collage never failed to catch your eye. The way the light of the sun illuminated the beautiful stained windows could never not be pretty. Compared to the dark halls of NRC, this school was twice as pretty, that's what you thought since coming here, but you'd never dare tell anyone, you didn't need another reason for people to look down on you as they always do.
Ah there it is again. Ever since you came here, Rollo can't seem to get tired of the way his name rolls off your tongue. He's heard about you, the magicless prefect who's came from another world. And goodness, you're... perfect. Everything about you, is absolutely perfect. Your face, your voice, your silhouette, everything about you... and on top of all you're so... pure. So pure, he can sense it, the essence of it right in your soul, he wishes to keep it to himself forever, he'd never let anyone touch something so pure and beautiful. Stain it with their dirty magic.
“Something must've caught your eye for you to stop in your tracks like that, no?”
The voice coming from behind you was as calm and neutral as ever. You caught with the corner of your eye the figure stopping right next to you, looking where your eyes did just a moment ago.
“Well, you're never wrong are you?” You let out a silent laugh, at which the figure moved his eyes in you.
“The glass...is beautiful. It never fails to amaze me. You don't see this at Night Raven” Your eyes went up to look at the glass again, the one next to you looking in the same place you were.
“Hm, your comments make me think that Night Raven Collage isn't that amazing of a school that everyone would die to go in” You snorted at his snarky remark right before covering your mouth. You'd think he hates everyone from that school, but again, maybe he is, at how is looking at them, who can say he doesn't?
“Didn't take you for the humorous type, Rollo„
He looked at you again, your form snickering oh so close to his body. “Was it really that funny? I was simply saying what is on my mind...”
Your laughing came to a stop, now having your attention fully on him. “I know, it's just the way you said it is all. It was funny. And I mean, you are kind of right. Sure Night Raven is a big school, no denying that. But! I guess you could say the inside is a bit... boring”
At your words Rollo let out a laugh himself. “Hmph! Boring? I've known you for a day and I'm sure you can find a better word than boring”
“Meh, I don't wanna be mean is all” Your kindness was also something Rollo adored about you. He can see who you are under all that fake kindness you put on for your little friends at NRC. Right under all of that, the essence of your soul is naked under his praying eyes. He knows you're tired, tired of that school. Maybe he can use that for himself.
The songs and happy voices of the many people surrounding you were loud but not entirely unwelcome. After each group that was made earlier today finished their stroll through the busy streets, it was now time for everyone to gather in one place for the big show. You were currently sitting next to Rollo, watching from far away the boys who were having fun creating fireworks for the townfolk.
Isn't it weird?
You couldn't help but scowl at the sight. It was so irritating, but why exactly...?
“Are you alright?”
Rollo's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Judging by that scowl on your face, I'd say you're ready to rip everyone's heads off”
You looked at him, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye, and just for a second, you caught a glint of amusement in them. He was joking. How is it that he only does it when he's with you? You've been observing his actions ever since you came here and he seems to be a totally different person when he's with you. The handkerchief that always seems to be present when he speaks with other people, he never has it when he's with you.
“Who are you trying to lie to? Me or yourself?”
You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'm ok. I just...well...”
The silver haired boy turns his head to fully look at you, waiting for an answer “I just... don't like the loud music, at all. It always gives me the biggest headache”
Rollo let out an almost silent hm, and looked in front of him again. A minute passed before he spoke again.
...what?
The weight of his glace almost crushes you. You could feel his sharp emerald eyes looking at you, no... looking through you, you knew damn well that right now the one called Rollo Flamme was looking straight into your soul, ready to burn it to ashes at any moment.
He was right wasn't he?
You turned your head away from him, unable to return the gaze. “I... don't know what you're talking about, Rollo. I'm not lying to myself at all. I told you the truth”
He didn't stop, looking through you. “Is that so? Because when your eyes are directed exactly to your little friends over there, it's hard to think that it's just the music that's bothering you”
You were at a loss of words.
He knew
Of course he did
After all why bother hide it anymore?
You hated their guts...
You HATED that school
You hate THEM
YOU HATE IT
YOU HATE THIS DAMNED WORLD.
This time, you looked him straight in the eyes. And he knew, Rollo finally realized he got it. He was almost shocked at how easy it was to crack your fake facade. You were like him weren't you? You hated magic just like he hated it. You loathed the evil-doers of this world, the magic users. He knew he was right, he knew he was right to fall in love with you.
He couldn't help but smirk when he saw your eyes. So much hatred. My, how he loved that look of yours.
“And what do you plan on doing now?” Your voice took a much more serious tone than earlier. He simply let out a laugh.
“Me? Why nothing at all. All I need you to do — Rollo fully turned his body to you, slowly leaning to look into your eyes — is to listen to what I have to say”
The music of the festival could be heard even from the depths of the wall of the waterway tunnels. Rollo was guiding you, with a lantern in his hand, through what seemed like an endless darkness. And after what seemed like an eternity, you were the first one who spoke.
“So what exactly do you plan on doing? You haven't explained anything to me at all Rollo” He kept walking, not saying a word. More minutes passed and you were getting more and more annoyed, when was he going to-
“Why is it that you hate your friends so much? When I first saw you I could hardly tell you hated their guts” You fell silent at his question, why is it that you hate them? After all ever since you came here- ...oh, that's right. You know don't you?
“You want the truth? I'll tell you. I simply hate their guts. Ever since I came here I have been nothing but an obedient little dog to them. Cleaning all the mess they did after every overblot I was the one to clean the mess. Trouble? That idiot Crowley has me going to solve it. Students fighting? Of course, I'm the one to blame. I'm fucking tired, I'm so damn tired of all of them. No one, not a single one at that school has ever cared to check on me, because who cares?!? I'm a magicless student aren't I? I don't have feelings or anything right? I'm just a damn MAGICLESS HUMAN WHO LISTEN LIKE A FUCKING DOG!”
A predator's look. The intensity in his eyes was telling you everything. He waited for you to reach your breaking point so he can finally devour you whole. Just like a wild animal would do this his poor and hopeless pray.
Rollo didn't flinch at the sudden punch you landed on the wall next to you. You stopped walking a while ago, fully turned to you, Rollo watched your actions carefully, seeming to enjoy how you slowly became a victim to your own hatred, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark hole you made for yourself ever since stepping into this world. Stepping closer to you, Rollo raised your chin to look him in the eyes, the light of the lamp allowing you to see his beautiful yet empty emerald eyes. “See now? That's exactly why I guided you here. Your hatred for them is exactly what I need. So beautiful and so dangerous it is”
Moving closer, he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair. “What are you?-„
“So pure and so beautiful you are” You widened your eyes, your face growing warmer at his somewhat bold statement. He let go of you, grabbing your face once again, this time his being closer than it was before, the lamp illuminating half of his face as you saw the look in his eyes.
“Tell me now, Y/N. I can save you, get rid of all those dark thoughts from your head, give you a better life. I can protect you. All you need to do, is give me your word. Let me be your sanctuary”
Your breathing became heavy...can he? Can he truly save you? You'd wished to escape this for so long, you're so tired. You'd let him-
The lamp in Rollo's hands dropped on the floor as his hand held your chin so you could look in his eyes. His other hand entangled into your hair, finally pulling you for a long awaited kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, every ounce of self control disappeared. He'd been waiting for this longer than he dared to admit. If only you knew what you were doing to him. You eagerly returned the kiss, your hands diving into his hair, careful to not let his hat slip off his head, lips moving in perfect harmony as you've done this hundreds of times before. And when you parted for the first time, your panting echoed through the dark halls.
“Please, Rollo... — you grabbed onto his clothes, afraid that if you'd let go he'd abandon you just like the others — I'll- I'll let you. Please, be my sanctuary”
Rollo's eyes flickered with raw desire. “Very well then”
You looked at him with red cheeks, and before you could stop it you let the words “I love you” spill from your mouth. You knew your confession came out in a trembling voice, even if you didn't know why. Rollo looked at you and once again he kissed you, this time harder and urgent. He knew you knew he was telling you the same, that what he can't put into words he'll put into this kiss.
Picking up the lamp from the floor, he took your hand and guided you now towards the light that shot up at the end of the tunnel. “Come now my dear, I'm sure you'll like what you're going to see”
A long while passed until you two parted. Damned oxigen, you thought. The silver haired in front of you brought you closer to his face so that your foreheads touched. “How can you be magicless when I can swear that you bewitched me somehow. I'm not myself when I'm with you, did you know that? The things you do to me...”
You giggled at his remark, kissing him once more which he happily returned. “Yeah? Well, I'm glad it's me. I'm glad you chose me Rollo” He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead.
Fire Lotuses. Dangerous yet beautiful flowers that supposedly went extinct centuries ago. These flowers grew by feeding themselves with magic, sucking it out of people leaving them with no ounce of magic to live with. The methods of extinction were not revealed, therefore there was no way to stop them.
The many candles in the Nobel Bell Collage hall illuminated brightly. The students who came for the symposium were all gathered in the hall, waiting for whatever was to come. Suddenly, the loud sound of the bell echoed through the whole school. “The Bell of Salvation? At this time of the night?”
Silver looked around him surprised by the tolls of the bell.
“If I recall, we were told that the bell tolled there times a day no? Once in the morning, then evening and night. And I'm pretty sure we heard the toll for the night some hours ago. So what could the reason for this one be?”
Riddle's face twisted in confusion, his brows furrowing trying to figure out what's going on.
“U-uhm, am I the only one who's seeing t-that?”
Upon hearing Idia's voice, everyone looked in his direction.
“What's that? A flower??”
In front of them, growing from the ground, there was a beautiful crimson flower, one that had its petals beautifully colored just like wild flames. “
What's a flower doing in the middle of the-” *crack*
Another one made its way through the floor, cracking the tiles in the process. And then another, followed by thousands slowly covering the whole hall.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Sebek's voice echoed through the hall now full of crimson flowers.
“Evreyone! They-they passed out!” In the blink of an eye, every single student who got close to the flowers had passed out cold and they couldn't be woken up.
“Standing in this hall while everyone else is passed at your feet is quite pitiful. Don't you think?”
Fighting and fighting, the students tried but there was no end to those flowers, if they can't use magic then they can't do anything. “Y/N! Make sure you stay beh-...what?”
Deuce had called for you, but he now realized...you were nowhere to be found.
“Y/N?!? NO! SHIT! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hearing his calls, the others looked around them, you were nowhere in sight.
“GRIM! Did you not see where she went?!?” Sebek picked up the panicked cat, who had thought you came back with him, your quietness being a normal thing at school so he didn't bother checking if you were truly there, blaming himself for your disappearance.
“I-I don't know! I thought she was behind me I swear!” On the verge of crying he started shaking in Sebek's arms, the boy putting him down taking pity on him.
“WE NEED TO FIND THE PREFECT NOW! AND SEE TO WHAT CAUSED THESE FLOWERS TO APPEAR!”
Next to the loud green haired boy, Malleus was looking up the stairs in the hall. “Hm, perhaps, we should ask him”
Sniffling, Grim looked in the direction of Malleus' eyes. “Him? Him who?” And just after, steps could be heard on top of the stairs, indicating who was watching from afar.
And there he was. The students looked at the top for the stairs that now revealed Rollo's steady figure stepping out of the shadows. “YOU HUMAN! DID YOU DO THIS?” Sebek's voice boomed once again in the halls, at which Rollo merely laughed.
“Who me? Yes I did, I did it so I can rid this world from magic of course”
“Riding the world of magic? THAT'S ABSURD!! You damn wicked villain!”
“SHUT IT! — the first time Rollo's voice was raised, the halls trembled at the sound — ME?! I'M THE WICKED VILLAIN?? What about you? You mages tricking the world with your stupid little magic tricks?! You mean nothing but trouble! But I!- I will rid this world of your kind, making it a better place!”
He laughed as he talked, the looks of the ones amongst the flowers now flaming with anger. “You're a coward! Come the fuck down and face us if you're so determined of getting rid of us!”
“No time for that Deuce! — Riddle grabbed the first year's shoulder — we need to find a way to get rid of these flowers before their thorns find a way into the soil” Another laugh from Rollo could be heard.
“Too late for that! Just as we're speaking, the whole city is getting covered in flowers, and soon enough the whole island! You've got nothing left to do!”
The flowers slowly started getting closer to them, leaving them helpless, just then, Deuce had realized what was missing from Rollo's speech. “You- WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO Y/N?!” Rollo's calm and collected eyes met Deuce's angry ones, smiling at his expression he let out a silent laugh.
“Hah! Ask her that yourself won't you?”
*Step* *step* *step*
One by one, the expression of the students went from anger to shock. You. It was you who was now next to Rollo standing straight and looking down on them from the stairs, the same flowers that were now surrounding them, was present in your hair.
“Y-... Prefect...?” Deuce couldn't believe it, what were you doing, what-what are you doing with him?
“Prefect?! What do you think you're doing?!” Sebek's voice boomed once again. “You're with the enemy you filthy traitor?!”
Looking right back into Deuce's eyes seeing his despair, that didn't sit right with you, Deuce has never done anything wrong, but again, did he really care...?
“I truly am so sorry Deuce. You did nothing wrong, really. But I'm so tired you know?”
“W-what is that even supposed to mean Y/N? Is it me? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did I'm sorry! But why would you do such a thing?”
“Because I can't take it anymore. I'm done, Deuce. I've been treated like a damn dog every second I stayed at that school. No one, not a single person has ever thought of checking up on me, seeing if I'm ok, not even you did. I needed to be saved, Deuce, and Rollo, Rollo told me he'd save me. And he did! I feel so much better now that he did”
Empty eyes were staring into scared blue ones. Deuce understood, in a way. And the fact that he hadn't even thought about checking on you earlier... maybe if he did none of this would've happened. “Grim. I really am sorry. This time I can't accompany you anymore. Seems like you'll have to become a great mage without me”
Shaking next to Deuce's legs, was a crying Grim. “Hench-human...”
And with that, the floor around them was gone, leaving them to fall in complete darkness.
This time, the looks you gave to the ones left was boiling through them. “You all deserve this. You all are some egoistic monsters you know that?” Malleus' steeped forward trying to reason.
“Child of man this is not the-”
“QUIET! You don't get to talk Malleus. You're just like them after all, you've always been haven't you?” Rollo was enjoying this too much. The expressions those idiots Night Raven Collage students had on their faces was priceless. But as much as he'd love to stay more, you both had work to do.
“Now now Y/N. I'm afraid we have to go. We have work to do, remember” He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you responded by putting one of yours in his.
Hi! May I have a chocolate cookie, #1 , with frosting and candycanes?
[I love reading your content ♡]
thank you so much!
order #1, chocolate with frosting, candy canes
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ requisite
summary: battered, bruised, and alone again... well, not quite
tropes: only one bed, friends to lovers
characters: rollo
additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, reader running away.wav, umm fluff basically
You hadn't known who else to turn to.
Something deep, smothered and stifled by the smoke in your stomach, knew it was always going to be him. But you didn't want to burden Rollo with your bruised ribs and beaten pride. Or, painfully, but truthfully, you didn't want him to see you in such a sorry state.
Aching, broken, tired, with dry tears stuck to your skin and snot crusted on your upper lip. A disgusting display, so unlike the strong, smart Prefect that you were- that you wanted to be.
But, you had no one else. You couldn't go crawling back to Night Raven College after that fit. You couldn't face your friends, or their shock and fear at your outburst.
No. Never again.
Or, at least, not for a few days.
Whyever the Dark Mirror had worked for you, you didn't know. Perhaps you were so exempt from the rules of this school and this world, that it didn't even realize a person had passed through its threshold. Perhaps the Headmage had taken some pity on you. Each answer was more outlandish than the last.
Perhaps you didn't want to know. You had been spit out in the imposing lecture hall of Noble Bell College, darkened by night and abandoned by its usual repertoire of students. The candles on each heavy chandelier were dying, wax melting into the metal hands that cradled them. Not magical, you note. The students of Noble Bell always were a practical sort of people.
You hold your phone between two trembling hands. Now would be the time to text Rollo and tell him- everything. But you can't seem to get past the lockscreen, and each time you try the sweat and tears that had wetted your weary hands smear across the screen and sends it into a flurry of numeral confusion.
Later. The library always sounded warm and welcoming here. You can hide throughout night, and then-
"What are you doing here?"
You tense and turn, expecting a professor or a hall monitor or someone that would surely toss you outside to sleep with the sewer rats, but it's Rollo.
You suppose it has been a few months since you'd heard his voice.
"I-I- I couldn't-" it's so much harder to speak to him in person.
Rollo's eyes widen. Even in the dim light, he can surely make out your dismal state- bruised, certainly bleeding, battered and beaten as if you'd been tossed around by a typhoon. Trembling with fear and trepidation like a small animal.
"Come along," he says, not waiting for you to explain any further. You follow.
Rollo leads, though he still looks over his shoulder to surmise your shaken state whenever he hears a lull in your steps. Almost as if he means to offer his shoulder for you to rest on, but can't quite find the words to ask.
He stops in front of a heavy wooden door, slotting an iron key inside its petite lock, and pushing it open with such ease for someone of his size.
He brings you inside a bedroom, comfortable and modest, a warm fire flickering in the hearth.
"Lie there," he says, taking you to the bed. His eyes, almost gray in the dark light, are no less dull as he gives you a hardened look.
"...What were you doing out so late?" you ask him.
He sniffles, slipping away to the dark recesses of the room to sift through some drawers. "I could not sleep. I warned you of this,"
"Of what?"
Rollo returns to your side and sits beside you, at the furthest edge of the bed, a glass bottle and gauze in either hand.
"That they would hurt you," he says, simply, as if it were a matter of fact. "That you could not trust them to be gentle with someone like... you."
He dresses your cuts first, smearing some foul, herbal-smelling paste over each one. It stings, and you have to suck in your breathe to bear it.
"It's not like that,"
"Then why are you here?" Rollo deadpans, his eyes dark and lowered. "Surely, if it were an accident, or a mishap, you would be at the infirmary in your own school. But you are here. With me."
You can't come up with an excuse for that. You avoid his eyes as he takes to wiping the sweat and blood and blot off of your face with an end of his robes, as if the cloth meant nothing more to him than your comfort.
"I lost my temper," you admit.
"You surely had a reason,"
You bite the inside of your cheek, almost drawing more blood. "Not a good one. I was just..."
"Afraid," he finishes. "Fear manifests in the strangest of ways. As unforgiving as the flame, sometimes."
"Yeah," you turn away, and he uses his blood-and-blot stained hand to bring your face back towards his.
"You'll be perfectly safe here. For as long as you'd like,"
He says that, but you know he'd like you to stay. Forever.
"...Thank you,"
Rollo hums, and has you take something that tastes as strong as it smells. For the pain, he says. It's something he must have brewed himself, because it works well enough. Your bruises soften, the ache in your bones becoming naught but a numbness.
Your eyes drift across the dark room, warm from the colors of the fire but no colder or impersonal than Ramshackle was when you first made it your home. The only indications of life are the paper and quills on the desk, and, of course, the elixirs and medicines piled by potionology books.
This is his room.
"You should be thankful that you've lasted so long in such a wicked place," Rollo scolds. "If not for their limited mercy, you would have been brutalized months ago. Now, look at what they've done to you."
You don't have it in you to admit this isn't the first time. He hadn't even asked about the blot. You try to defend yourself, your mouth open, looking for soft words and finding nothing but reality.
Rollo puts you out of your misery, pulling you from the bed by your shoulders and suffocating you in a bone-crushing hug. If not for the medicine, you surely would have passed out from the pain.
"Don't frighten me like this. Ever again," he whispers, his face pressed into your shoulder.
"Ow," you say, and he swiftly lets go, letting you fall back into the feathery pillows.
"Ah... my apologies," he rasps. "...I know I cannot convince you to stay at Noble Bell. But when you do go back, the very moment your life or health is called into question, you will call for me. Is that understood?"
You manage to nod, and he noticeably calms himself. For the moment, at least.
"Very good," he says, standing. "Call for me when you wake."
His hand has not even touched the doorknob when you ask for him again. "Rollo?"
He stills. "Yes?"
"Will you stay?"
It might have been difficult to tell from the dim, warm light of the room, the dying fire flickering gold and orange across his pale skin, but you would later recall his cheeks turning rosy.
I want to start this by saying I did not create any of these. This is just going to be a master list full of Jade fics so that I, and hopefully others, can go and find a fic to reread. Also, post a comment or message me if the links don't work or aren't correct.
SERIES
BLURBS/DRABBLES
ONE-SHOT
IMAGINES
AU’S
I've had to split it up into different categories to continue adding to it.
