I'm not normally all that into supernatural whump, but recently I've been thinking about a Whumpee and Caretaker who share a psychic connection. They can read each others minds, feel each other's emotions and physical sensations etc, etc.
One day Caretaker is with a friend when they suddenly collapse, writhing and gasping in pain exploding all over their body. The friend does everything they can to try and figure out what is wrong with Caretaker, but they seem completely fine despite acting like they are dying. Finally, after several minutes Caretaker manages to grab at their friend's shirt and force them to look at them with panicked eyes.
The first time Eddie notices is the Monday after the alleged fight with Jonathan. Steveâs bruises match up exactly with the unexplained blinding pain he felt on Saturday. He wants to ask did Jonathan keep punching, even when he knew you were down? Because Eddie could feel on his knuckles every hit that landed almost as clearly as the ones he took and he knows which stopped first.
But then Haganâs telling anyone who will listen that Jonathan did it because Steve called him queer like itâs the funniest thing in the world and Eddie decides itâs a coincidence. The universe couldnât have made that big of a mistake
The next time is after Billy. It feels like an actual punch to the stomach when he sees Steve all beat up again after another weekend of phantom concussion-induced nausea. He watches Steveâs fingers probe his swollen eye and does his best to hide his own accompanying flinch. Not that anyone would put it together, least of all Steve.
He gets his first tattoo after that. The pain doesnât really bother him, not when heâs almost certain Harrington is feeling it too. It almost feels good.
The third time he doesnât know what happened. Someone did a pretty intense job of rearranging Harringtonâs face all over again, heâs sure, but what really stuck out amidst the whole experience was the moment at the end when he couldâve sworn he felt the prick of a needle being pushed into his vein.
He seeks Harrington out after that. Because as much as he doesnât like the guy, that sequence of hurts has alarm bells ringing in his head. But they donât go to school together anymore and itâs a few days before his concern is put to rest. Eddie finds him at a moment where heâs not actively looking for him, just running errands for Wayne in town and he looks okay. Happy, even.
Heâs working the counter at Family Video with Buckley, face healing nicely. Theyâre laughing at a joke he canât hear from outside the store, and he wonders when they became friends. Buckley would be better off alone than with a friend like the Harrington he knew, so either sheâs sacrificed her individuality on the alter of Steve Harringtonâs perfect hair, or Steveâs changed at least a little since high school. But even if reality has given Steve an iota of perspective about the fickleness of teenage popularity, Eddie doesnât feel any more inclined to get involved with the guy.
He doesnât see Steve again until the boathouse after that. It doesnât register itâs Steve he has up against the wall â broken bottle to his jugular â until later and heâs fighting the urge to massage his throat too. He tries to forget about what he knows â now is definitely not the time for it to come out, and despite Henderson singing Steveâs praises all year, Eddie maintains the universe fucked up on them somehow.
Then Steve gets pulled under Loverâs Lake and the others donât know whatâs happening to him. But he does. God, he does. Itâs the worst pain heâs ever felt and heâs screaming and cursing, and the others are diving in after Steve, and he knows thereâs only one way to make it stop, but he doesnât know if he can swim with this intense pain lancing through him. Somehow he pulls himself together enough to get in the water and make it through the gate. The pain doesnât nearly stop when they save Steve, but it feels a little less like dying and that will have to be enough.
When Steve tells the girls heâs okay, Eddie feels like laughing (itâs either that or wailing in pain at this point, and the latter would give him away) because the guy is emphatically not okay. Eddie feels like throwing up, or curling into a ball and not moving, never moving, but hereâs Steve getting up and making out as if he can just walk it off. Henderson was right, Steve really is a bad-ass.
A/N:Â Thatâs all I feel like writing for now, but there may be more, not sure yet. I have another steddie soul mate drabble here if youâre interested, but otherwise, thanks for reading :)
Of course Ikkaku knew Jean Bart was a strong man, both physically and mentally. He had to be to endure years under the Celestial Dragons' heels, treated like a beast. No, less than that. The rags he wore when Law brought him to the Polar Tang still lingered in her memory, but not nearly as much as the scars that had lurked underneath. Scars that were thankfully now covered by the Heart Pirates' signature boiler suit. He was one of them now, not some inbred freak's punching bag.
Still, she worried about him. Trauma wasn't something easily brushed off, even when surrounded by those who loved and accepted you. Ikkaku knew that firsthand, and she hadn't suffered nearly as horribly or for as long in her life as Jean Bart had. One of her coping mechanisms to this day was working herself to the point of exhaustion. It both made her too tired to think and made her feel less like the crew would abandon her if she proved herself to be useful and irreplaceable.
Yes, logically she knew Law would never do such a thing, but the mind's demons rarely listened to logic.
"I'm glad it's not so bad now," she said, taking a seat on a nearby crate and offering him some water. "I can't even imagine what they put you through. Well, I can, but I get the feeling even that might fall short." Shaking her head sadly, she looked up at him with big, dark eyes full of compassion. "How many years were you their slave? I wanna know for...reasons." Specifically, how many years worth of pain and suffering would need to be condensed and inflicted upon any Celestial Dragon the Hearts would ever meet.
Jeff the killer x reader - soulmate au - not happening
Soulmate au-feeling ur soulmates pain/sharing wounds
*at the age of 16, soulmates begin to share wounds/pain, anything that happened before 16 will not show up on the other unless the first re-injures themselves*
=
Whoever your soulmate was?
Needed to calm the fuck down.
Since the age of 16 you had been constantly covered in bruises and cuts, sometimes-you had fucking BULLET WOUNDS. You were constantly in and out of the hospital, pouting within the white sterile walls as you were treated for your various soulmate injuries. Your parents were understandably worried, when one cut or bruise left another three would appear.
You were this close to finding this mother fucker and punching them out if just to make them STOP FOR FIVE SECONDS GâDAMN. If you werenât bruised you were cut, if you werenât cut you had stab wounds, if you didnât have stab wounds you had bullet wounds, and if you didnât have any of that; FUCKER WAS BEING STUPID AND RUINING YOUR LEGS. Your legs were constantly sore, arms sore, everything was sore; as if this fucker was constantly running about and never taking care of themselves.
âIf I ever find this fucker Iâm going to deck them so hardâ you muttered to yourself as you iced your ankle for the 7th time this month, fucker had sprained it, AGAIN. It was near 1 am, you were sore all over with bruises on top of that; you could hardly sleep. You sighed deeply as you heard your window slide open, a fucking serial killer had been making his rounds in your city as of late, and it seems unfortunately he had chosen your home tonight.
âAll right listen up you joker-looking fuckâ you hissed, swinging your legs around and picking up your metal bat, staring into the shocked eyes of Jeff the killer; who was not ready for your pissed-off ass. âIâve had a fucking rough two years dealing with a stupid as fuck soul mate, so either get the fuck outâ you twirled the bat, moving to get ready to swing âor get knocked the fuck outâ he just stared at you, then curled his chapped lip over his teeth.
âgo to sleepâ he snarled, dropping to the floor pathetically as you slammed the bat into his head, you groaned as your head exploded with a sharp pain. You stumbled to the side, your vision going fuzzy and edging with darkness, catching yourself on your bed as Jeff lay unconscious on your bedroom floor. âoh no fucking waaaaaayâ you nearly screamed, this fucking idiot, was your soulmate!?
You kneeled next to him, pinching his cheek and dropping your head between your shoulders as you felt that same pinch â, oh gods help meâ
-
Jeff woke up two hours later, tied down in your basement, his legs, arms, torso, and hands all pinned. âwhat the shitâ he grumbled, wincing at the pounding headache he felt. He shook his head, only making it worse âCHRIST would you stop that!â he looked up, seeing the girl he had snuck in to kill and then knocked him the fuck out, standing across from him holding her head âdo you have zero self-preservation skills?â
Jeff lurched forward, yelping as the chair tipped forward, and he ended up on the floor. you sighed, closing your eyes and pinching your nose as it flared with pain, you could already feel the blood seeping down. âI gotta be honest this doesnât usually happenâ Jeff muttered from the floor, turning his face to glare at the wall. ânoooâ you said sarcastically, crouching next to him and resting your chin in your palm âreally? I wouldnâtâve guessed~!â you dropped your false enthusiasm, glaring down at him as he rolled his eyes, struggling to get back up on his âfeetâ. You rolled your eyes back and picked up the back of the chair, lifting it and setting it back upright.
Jeff continued to struggle âwhy the fuck did you even tie me up, gonna call the police n shit?â Jeff taunted, only to yelp as you pinched your arm âow! The fuck?!...waitâ you both stared at each other for a solid minute before Jeffâs head dropped with a groan âoh gods help meâ
âthatâs what I said~â you sake with fake cheer, Jeff sucked on his teeth before looking back up at you âsoooo, what are we gonna do?â he asked, and you huffed, putting your hands on your hips, âI thinkâ you started, tapping his nose with your finger, mentally laughing at the pink that appeared on his ears âthe question is, what are you gonna do. Cuz I have a nice cozy life in this neighborhood, I donât gotta do shit. You on the other hand? Fuck up, a lot. You are constantly getting us hurt and I swear to god if you donât shape the fuck up, I will tie your ass to that exact chair and keep you down here, so the most I hurt from is rope burn.â
Jeff stared at you, wide-eyed, realizing you were very serious. âyouâre kinda hotâ he practically squeaked, out, ducking his head down as you coughed from the sudden inhalation of your spit âthe fuck?!â you laughed, nearly dying from the stupidity of it all âwhat in the hell compelled you to say that?!â
âI donât know!â Jeff screeched, trying to die from embarrassment âIt-just-slipped out!â you continued to cackle, for once happy you were the only one at home for the week. âdude, youâre fucked if youâre simpinâ that quicklyâ you snorted as you sat on the floor in front of him, letting him finally see all the bruises, scars, and injuries he had caused you. Since he started, as a killer, he really hadnât thought he would, well, have anyone. He thought once you killed, you lost that privilege of being connected to another soul, of having someone be made in the stars for you. âshitâŠfine-Iâll-fuck Iâll be more carefulâ Jeff grumbled, he was extremely reckless, and had gotten himself near death hurt a handful of times-he supposed being a bit more cautious wouldnât hurt. For the both of you. You huffed, glad he finally caved, not knowing Jeff was remembering the time he had almost bled out, after he turned 16, imagining the pain and fear you mustâve felt going through the same thing but not knowing why.
âI swear to god if you kill meâ you muttered, undoing his ropes, but Jeff just stood, turned to stare at you, then left; wondering why you hadnât called the cops on him. it was simple, you call the cops, he goes on trial, he goes to prison, shit happens, and boop youâre both dead~ yeah not something you wanted.
Jeff meanwhile, was having a breakdown; he had a soulmate, HE HAD A SOULMATE!? Fuck he had to be so much more careful now! He didnât even know he could care for someone other than himself, but even when he first slid in, the sound of your voice sent his heart racing. First, he thought it was the adrenaline, but nope! Life said; hahaha! Suffer.
He stood just outside your house for a little bit, mentally screaming trying to come to terms with it. Finally, he threw up his hands and headed back âhomeâ; which was really just an old cabin that he had taken as his own.
This was just-way too much to deal with right now.
-two days later-
He was outside your fucking work, just-what the fuck. You had a fleeting thought that maybe he wasnât there for you, but to choose his next victim, but hell be damned you would let him take one of your coworkers. You stormed right up to him, some of your coworkers sighing in relief as you did. You were a hard-headed bitch and would trash talk the biggest dude and make him back down, you could make the scrawny mf go away. âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â you hissed, pulling his arm as you walked away from work back towards home, you could feel the confusion from him.
âDonât soulmates do nice shit like wait for the other outside of work?â oh he was trying to be cute? HowâŠwell cute! Not! ânot when one is a fucking serial killer and has the worst vibes in the universe!â you hissed loudly, you could feel the pout behind his black mask, his eyes glaring at you behind his sunglasses. âyouâd think youâd want to stay out of the public eye, since, I dunno, youâve probably done that since-forever.â Jeff shrugged, pulling his arm out of your grip and tossing it over your shoulder, coughing as you elbowed his ribs
ârude-and kinda? Half hide half wander in public, If I didnât I wouldnât ever eat or showerâ You made a face, thank fuck for that then, imagine if you had to deal with a smelly serial killer soulmate. âgross, didnât need to know thatâ you muttered in response, unlocking your front door as you arrived and pushing it open, snapping at Jeffâs shoes as you entered and pointing at the wall âoff, I donât want whatever you got on those in hereâ Jeff rolled his eyes, leaning against the now closed front door and taking off his boots, putting them against the wall and following you further into the house.
âPlease tell me this won't be a regular thing? Cause I kinda have a routine goinâ and I donât need you interrupting itâ you grumbled, taking out the items you took home from work from your bag and putting them away, glaring as Jeff chuckled, leaning on the counter next to you; way too close for comfort.
âNot likelyâ he teased, watching you intently as you moved about âWeâre soulmates~ not s'posed to be apart, right?â you turned to glare at him, throwing a fake snowball you kept in the junk drawer at him; he caught it with ease and examined it, before chucking it back at you. Missing as he did. You laughed at his horrid throw.
ânot how it works, plenty of soulmates end up very far apart, not together, and even-rejectedâ you said with a sinister tone, basically warning Jeff that if he fucked up you would break the bond; and that was never a pleasant experience for the one not doing the breaking. Jeff winced, rubbing his arm, would you really go that far? Did you hate him that much already?
He decided to just hum in response, moving to sit at your dining table, watching as you moved about to get out some pots, making yourself some mac n cheese. âso did you just come around to be annoying, or do you have a real reason for being around me?â you asked as you turned, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed, staring Jeff down.
And Jeff could easily tell he wasnât wanted. He swallowed down the hurt and shook his head, standing slowly and walking back to the front door ânah, justâŠI dunnoâ he muttered zipping up his boots, putting his mask and glasses back on, and slipped out, closing the door behind him. you stared after him for a moment, then shrugged âgood riddanceâ you didnât need a serial killer in your life. Not one bit. You didnât give a fuck if he was your soulmate; he wasnât a needed component.
As the months went on, you realized you werenât hurting as much as you used to, bruises were few and far in between, cuts hardly showed up, and bullet wounds were non-existent. All in all, things were a lot easier to live with, it also meant Jeff kept his end of the deal. Stop being a dumbass.
Those months turned into a year and a half, you were long graduated from high school, moved a city over, lived with three of your good friends, had two good jobs that somehow didnât run you into the ground (most days), and werenât sporting constant bruises. All in all, life was going good; youâŠyou did think about Jeff once in a while, whenever that rare bruise showed up.
But you brushed him away most of the time, you wouldn't go back on your word. You didnât have the time nor the need for him in your life, he would only make it harder. Then one day you were getting ready to go to work, tying on your boots when your head exploded with pain, you couldnât even scream thatâs how bad it hurt. Your entire body shook as your head filled with what sounded like static, you hit the floor, your mouth ripping wide with silent screams of agony.
You could feel your nose drip with blood what was happening to him? what the fuck did he piss off to do this to the both of you?! You looked up as your computer screeched to life, grunting in pain as you struggling to shove back against your bed, watching as three figures tumbled out of the screen; one of the figures being, guess who~ Jeff!
As soon as they hit the ground the static stopped and you groaned, curling up on the floor as the three boys stumbled to their feet, Jeff dropping back in front of you and rubbing your shoulder âhey-sorry, pissed my boss offâ he croaked, glaring back at the two he pulled through the screen with him. âI can hear you laughing you glitch.â You slowly sat up with Jeffâs help, a raging headache still pounding as you opened your eyes to see a floating Link looking mother fucker, and a tall dude wearing a blue mask with black tar-like stuff dripping onto his black hoodie.
âso you must be the infamous (y/n) eh?â the Link looking one cooed, floating into your face, cackling as Jeff shoved him back, trying to I've you your personal space back as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer; still glaring at his âfriendâ âI swear to god I never told you my nameâ you grumbled, and Jeff flushed, glancing away.
âmightâve remembered your name tagâ he muttered, turning to snap at the link dude again as you sighed, holding your head in your hands as you pushed Jeff away. âcute.â You said sarcastically, standing as you wiped your nose, grimacing at the blood staining your hand ânow-quick explanation. Why the fuck are you here?â
Jeff looked ashamed again, while his âfriendsâ winced, rubbing the back of their heads âuh-like I said, got in trouble with our boss? He uh-I fucked up, plain and simple. So Iâm hiding low with you till I can go back without dying and therefore killing you in the process~!â Jeff ended cheerfully, as if him staying with you was a good thing.
âhell noâ you snapped, grabbing his hoodie collar, dragging him out of your room, down the stairs, and to the door âout, outoutoutoutout! You are NOT staying here! I have roommates, two jobs, bills, rent, life! I donât need or want you in it!â you felt an odd stab to your heart, guessing it was you rejecting the bond but it was Jeffâs heart; why didnât you want him? what was he doing wrong!?
âdamn she coldâ the link dude muttered, actually feeling bad for Jeff as you tried to shove him out the house. âWhat about what I want!â Jeff suddenly snapped back, twisting out of your grip and back into the house, taking your moment of surprise to stand his ground âyouâre only thinking about yourself, why donât you think about your fucking soulmate for once eh!?â
âBecause youâre a freakinâ serial killer?? Who kills people, for fun!? I donât care about what you want asshole, Iâm protecting myself from you! I donât care if that makes me the worst soulmate ever, now get.OUT.â Jeff just stared at you, hoping you would change your mind if he waited for long enough. But you didnât, holding open the front door, only waiting for him and his âfriendsâ to leave. Finally, he sighed, pulling his hoodie over his head and walking out, refusing to look at you as the link dude and mask dude followed him, the former saying goodbye very quietly. You slammed the door shut. âgood riddance, take twoâ you muttered, storming back upstairs for your keys.
That continued on for the next few years, Jeff making an appearance and disguised plea to let him in, only for you to turn away; iron heart locked behind a steel cage. He didnât know why he wanted to be-let into your life so badly, he knew it was the soulmate thing duh butâŠshit why did it hurt so badly when you shoved him out, met him with silence, shunned him.
Werenât soulmates meant for each other? Werenât they? Then why were you pushing him away so badly? He understood the whole âkeep a serial killer out of my lifeâ thing, he really did butâŠshit-you wouldnât even make time to just-talk to him. just once. ItâŠit hurt-a lot more then it shouldâve. Finally, after four years-Jeff gave up, he didnât try to talk to you, didnât show up at your work, and didnât even go near you.
He was done, he wasnât going to make an effort for someone who didnât give a shit. Fuck he sounded like a hypocrite, all these years being a selfish asshole, and the one time he meets someone exactly like him; he cries about it. âPatheticâ Jeff grumbled, taking a swig of whatever liquor he had taken from the last victim's house; it was strong, which was good. âAll over a fuckinâ girlâ he continued, standing on unstable feet and stumbling over to the fridge in his room.
He really didnât know why, all these years, after he had âfoundâ you, that he had thought that maybe, maybe! He would get that classic happy ending, happy with his fucking soulmate. âand she doesnât even fucking want me!â Jeff yelled, chucking the bottle into the wall, holding back tears behind gritted teeth. Suddenly he felt an intense pain in his chest, practically paralyzing him with it. He collapsed to the floor; his mouth open in agony. âgah-hel-shit-help!â he yelled out weakly, something was wrong with you, and it was causing him immense pain. âhelp!â
Ben was the first in the room, helping Jeff up as Jeff cried out, his hand taught to his chest. âdudeâ Ben muttered, pointing at Jeffâs chest, which now had shallow stab wounds. âoh fuckâ Jeff said with a grunt, he felt a very shallow pain from them, but what was causing him to shake was beneath that, it felt as if someone snapped a chord on his heart. âi-shit I need to get to herâ Jeff grabbed onto Ben, and Ben sighed, understanding what he wanted and quickly locking onto your phone, dragging Jeff with him through the computer in Jeffâs room and going on the other side through your device.
â(y/n)â Jeff whispered in horror, seeing you on the alleyway floor, chest covered in blood and stab wounds, deep ones. You coughed, you werenât dead yet, just inches away, scoffing when you saw him âcanât even get peace when-â you wheezed, clenching your eyes shut as Jeff slid down next to you, carefully lifting your wounded body into his arms, wondering why he wasnât experiencing the same pain as you. â-when dyinâ eh?â
Jeff shushed you, pressing his hand to your wound, you were bleeding out, and fast; already about to die âyou can tell me to fuck off when youâre not okay? Shit-why didnât I get any of these?â Jeff hissed out, carefully pulling your shirt up to see the damage, eyes widening as you laughed weakly and said; âI broke the bondâ
âwhy would you-â Jeff then realized thatâs the pain he felt earlier, that heart-crushing soul-destroying pain; you had broken the bond. He wasnât your soulmate anymore âwhy?â you just laughed again, feeling death at the back of your mind âbeen a bitchâ you muttered weakly, eyes starting to flutter shut âyouâŠyou didn't deserve toâŠgoâŠdown withâŠmeâ Jeff's eyes widened as you slumped in his arms, the light going out in your eyes â(y/n)?â Jeff asked, shaking your body in an attempt to wake you up â(y/n) come on this isnât funny, (y/n)!â
Ben stepped away to give Jeff a moment, feeling he was very much invading something personal. Jeff stared down at your body in shock before he sat back on his heels, staring off at nothing. five and a half years, five and a half years of trying to make you accept himâŠonly for you to end up deadâŠhe was right; people like him didnât get soulmates. Jeff slowly stood with you in his arms, pressing a wavering kiss to your forehead as he did. âmâ sorryâ he muttered, putting his hood up as he walked out the alley; risking himself as he walked into the hospital, explaining that you had been attacked, and broken the bond between the two of you before he could share your more dangerous wounds. He disappeared before they could get his name, and you were pronounced dead before arrival.
Jeff slowly closed his door when he got back to the mansion, he felt soâŠempty. You were goneâŠyou were goneâŠhis soulmate was dead. Jeff took a deep shuddering breath, rubbing his face as he collapsed into his bed. âim so fucking done with this lifeâ he muttered, feeling a tear slip down his cheek.
What a fucking waste of time.
-end-
âŠyeah, remember when I said I donât do angst? I lied~ hope I crushed ur heart to millions of pieces~
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Quiet Care
Written for @harunosakuraweekâ - Day 6: Soulmates!
M; 2.1k
Kakashi/Sakura
A nagging bit of shared unpleasantness leads Kakashi to cut off his spar with his best friend early in favour of heading home and tending to his soulmate.
Of any type. Soulmates, linked-by-ritual, magic-gone-wrong, unconventional shackles. Willing, unexpected, dreaded, forced. Friends, enemies, rivals, strangers, allies, family.
Hmm, whatâs that? Hurting one will hurt the other? Oh, how awful.
What did you say? If they stay apart too long theyâll grow sick and weak and die? How tragic.
Pardon? The only way to get unlinked is by venturing into the depths of dark and dangerous lands to get a poisonous cure thatâll cause unbearable pain and might not work? What horrible luck.
Could you repeat that? Killing one would kill the other and theyâre currently both hostages in enemy clans? That sounds like a recipe for disaster. (Yum.)
I didnât quite hear that? Thereâs actually a really simple way to unlink them and avoid all this pain but that means condemning one of them to die and the other one refuses to do it? Oh dear. (Cheshire cat grin.)
Enemies using the bond against each other? Rivals refusing to heed the warning of pain as they stretch the link to its breaking point? Bonds used as torture? Strangers torn between saving themselves and saving the other? Refusing to give up on the bond even when delirious from pain? Trapped in a bond with someone dangerous and monstrous and terrifying?
